Wicked Fun: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 7-9 Read online

  “Don’t take that tone with me,” Brian warned. “That tone is exactly why I was ready to let the boys go and wanted to cling to my daughter.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Jack rolled his neck. “My mother was haunted by the fact that I almost died. I’m not going to deny that. She looked like a different person when I woke up, and hers was the first face I saw. I was happy to see her that day because I knew I somehow made it to the other side, escaped death.

  “It became harder to deal with her after that, though,” he continued. “My physical therapy was rigorous and difficult. I stayed with her for a few weeks after I was released from the hospital, but it grated on me because she was always watching. It was as if she was waiting for me to fall apart.”

  “And we both know you’re too much of a tough guy to fall apart,” Brian teased.

  “I thought I was too much of a tough guy. I thought I survived something terrible, defied the odds, and I was destined for … something. That feeling didn’t last very long. At some point I started to despair. I got depressed. The more my mother doted on me, the angrier I got.”

  “Well, now I feel as if I’m in the position to defend you and I should make apologies, but you were going through a lot,” Brian noted. “You shouldn’t hold yourself to a standard that no one could possibly meet.”

  “When I finally made the decision to leave the south side of the state I did it in one night,” Jack explained. “The second I made the decision I felt lighter, freer. I knew it was the right decision. My mother thought otherwise and she fought me tooth and nail.

  “When I arrived up here she kept saying it was okay for me to admit it was a mistake and come home,” he continued. “I never felt it was a mistake. I loved it up here from the moment I arrived. It didn’t hurt that I met Ivy right away and she kind of … captivated me.”

  “You don’t say,” Brian drawled, amused. “I was there for that first meeting. I remember the spark.”

  “Ivy saved me.” Jack wearily rubbed his cheek. “She made me see that I had so much life left to live. She made me want to live it. I used to think it was this place that helped me breathe again, Shadow Lake that lifted the anvil from my chest. It was Ivy, though. It was always her.”

  “Oh, son, you’ve got it bad.” Brian made a clucking sound as he fought to contain his laughter. “You should write that down in a letter or something. Women love that kind of stuff.”

  Jack made a face. “I was being serious.”

  “I know you were,” Brian said. “That’s what makes it so funny.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Jack waved off Brian’s laughter. “I’m not going to let my mother get between us.”

  “Then don’t let her. Be strong, but be kind. She’s still your mother. Give her time to accept this. Ivy is strong. She can take care of herself. She’ll survive this. She’s survived a lot worse.”

  “She shouldn’t have to survive it.”

  “And yet she’ll willingly do it for you,” Brian pointed out. “Have you ever noticed that she has the same propensity to protect you that you do to protect her?”

  “That’s because she’s amazing.”

  “Ooh.” Brian made a sloppy kissing sound as he poked Jack’s shoulder. “You are so whipped.”

  “I can live with that.”

  BY THE TIME Jack and Brian climbed out of the cruiser in front of the McDonald farm they were both in markedly better moods. Jack had to admit that his older partner always managed to make him feel better. He had no idea how Brian accomplished it – perhaps it was because he raised sons himself – but Jack always felt at ease when it came to talking to Brian. He never felt as if his partner would laugh or dismiss his feelings, which was the exact opposite way he felt when in Detroit.

  Jack scanned the busy workers, looking for a familiar face, but when he noticed a bustle of activity behind the barn he pointed to alert Brian to the hubbub. Brian nodded and the two men fell into step with one another as they headed in that direction, pulling up short when they rounded the corner and found a small grouping of men staring at a hole in the ground.

  “What’s going on?” Brian asked, stepping forward.

  “There’s a hole.” One of the workers, Jack was fairly certain he identified himself as Nathan Simpson when being interviewed earlier in the week, pointed for emphasis.

  “We noticed that,” Brian replied dryly. “What’s it doing there?”

  Simpson shrugged. “It doesn’t do tricks or anything. It’s just sitting there.”

  “Okay, well, why are you staring at it?” Brian asked, changing tactics. “I would assume there are holes all over the place when you’re dealing with a farm. You’ve got crops … and fence posts … and other stuff you stick in the ground.”

  Jack made a face. “You don’t know much about farming, do you?”

  “I have a farm.”

  “You have corn and some vegetables.”

  “No one is talking to you,” Brian shot back. “Why are you guys so worked up about the holes?”

  “Because this is like the tenth one that popped up over the past two days,” Simpson replied. “Jim Sterling stepped in one when he was trying to catch a chicken and darned near broke his leg. Then someone was driving a tractor on the south pass and they hit one and it just about knocked a wheel off the tractor. That’s on top of old Lionel. He was in the barn and someone dug a hole in there and he stepped in it and almost broke his neck when he was falling. He missed the corner of the feed bin by like two inches.”

  Jack arched an eyebrow as he glanced at Brian. “But … why?”

  “If we knew that, it wouldn’t be a mystery,” Simpson replied. “That’s why everyone is actively searching for holes now.”

  “And not the fun kind of holes,” another man offered, waggling his eyebrows.

  Jack made a disgusted face. “What did you just say?”

  The man balked. “I was talking about golf holes.”

  “Of course you were,” Brian muttered, shaking his head. “So these holes just started popping up all over the farm?”

  Simpson nodded.

  “Does it look as if someone found anything when they were digging the holes?” Jack asked.

  Simpson shrugged. “How would I know that?”

  “You would know if someone pulled something out of one of the holes.”

  “Well, in that case, I’m going to say no,” Simpson said. “I just know there are a bunch of holes and we have to go around filling them in when we find them so no one accidentally steps in them.”

  Jack turned to Brian, his expression unreadable. “Could it be some sort of joke?”

  “Do you know how hard it is to dig a hole that big in cold weather like this?” Brian asked. “Even if you have the equipment – and that looks like a fence post digger tool was used right there – we’re dealing with some hard ground. It’s not easy to shift dirt in these weather conditions.”

  “So … that’s no on it being a joke?”

  Brian shrugged. “I have no idea what it is, but it’s pretty freaking odd.” He glanced around, not stopping until his gaze landed on the house. “The holes aren’t really an issue for us, though. Let’s hit Wayne first. He has some uncomfortable questions to answer.”

  WAYNE opened the door after the first knock, his eyebrows lifting when he recognized his visitors.

  “Gentlemen, you should probably come in from the cold.”

  “Thanks, Wayne,” Brian said, wiping his feet on the mat before following the man into the house. “How are you doing?”

  “I guess as well as can be expected,” Wayne replied. “I’m here picking out some photos for the memorial service. Actually I’m grabbing the boxes so I can drop them at Gilly’s house. She wants to pick out the photos, but Darren doesn’t want her exhausting herself so I agreed to grab them.”

  “How is she doing?”

  “Well, she disappeared this afternoon and gave everyone a good scare, but other than that she seems to be okay.”

/>   “She disappeared?” Jack’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Did you find her?”

  “Yeah, it turns out she just needed some air and a female to talk to,” Wayne replied, rubbing his chin. “It seems that she felt cooped up because Darren has been smothering her. There’s also only men on the property and she needed someone to talk to.”

  “Did she go to a friend’s house?”

  “Actually she went to see Ivy Morgan.”

  Jack stilled, surprised. “Ivy? When?”

  “This afternoon,” Wayne answered. “Didn’t she tell you?”

  “No, but I haven’t talked to her either.” Jack shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. He wouldn’t admit it in front of an audience but he was mildly irritated Ivy didn’t share that tidbit. “Did she say what they talked about?”

  “She hasn’t been overly chatty since it happened,” Wayne explained. “She’s been big on having a stiff upper lip and being strong because she thinks her father would want her to be strong. She doesn’t realize that he was proud of her no matter what.

  “As for Ivy, well, Gilly just said she needed someone to talk out her feelings with and that Ivy made a good sounding board,” he continued. “I think Gilly’s biggest problem is that she’s excited about the baby coming and yet she’s also sad because of her daddy’s passing. It’s a rough spot for her to be in.”

  “I guess I never thought of that,” Brian said, sympathy washing over him. “It can’t be easy on her.”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  “That’s one of the reasons we decided to talk to you first,” Brian said. “We’ve been doing some digging and it has come to our attention that the farm was in financial trouble. You didn’t mention that the other day.”

  Wayne furrowed his brow. “Financial trouble? Well, I’ll admit it hasn’t been the easiest year, but I wouldn’t say the farm is in trouble.”

  “But Ron had a large balloon payment coming due on a lien,” Jack prodded. “The bank said it was a big payment. Now, we know Ron had the money to cover it in an account at the credit union, but that was hardly the only bill coming due.”

  “I guess if you’re not used to how things work on a farm that you would think that, but we take out liens on the property every year to get through certain periods,” Wayne explained. “We usually take out the liens in the winter to help fund the spring planting and then we ride the summer and fall months to pay it off. Whatever is left in the accounts after the payout is considered profit and then we do it all over again.”

  “Oh, well, I guess that makes sense.” In truth, Jack had no idea if that made sense. The idea of operating a farm was foreign to him. He figured Ivy might know better and he planned to feel her out on the situation later in the day. “So you believe the farm was running normally?”

  “I do,” Wayne confirmed, bobbing his head. “I’ve been over the books twice since Ron died and I see nothing out of the ordinary. I think I would notice if something was off.”

  “Well, I’m glad you explained that to us,” Brian said, his face unreadable. “There’s something else we need to discuss with you, though. It’s the type of weapon used to kill Ron. We got the ballistics report today and it sent up some red flags. It seems an antique gun was used in the murder. A Colt, in fact.”

  Wayne widened his eyes and Jack thought he looked legitimately surprised. “An antique Colt? That can’t be normal, can it? I mean … I don’t consider myself up on murder or anything, but I watch the occasional crime show … and that can’t be normal.”

  “When it comes to murder there’s not necessarily a normal, but I know what you mean,” Brian said. “It’s not normal. That’s a rare gun. The problem is, if you’re a gun enthusiast, that’s one of the guns you always try to get for your collection. I know I have one.”

  “I only have a shotgun at my house and a hunting rifle so I’m probably out of the demographic, but I don’t know anyone who has a Colt,” Wayne offered. “I believe Ron had a few guns, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t have anything that old.”

  “Were the guns kept here in the house?” Jack asked.

  Wayne nodded. “There’s a gun safe in the basement.”

  “Can you open it for us?”

  “Follow me.” Wayne led Jack and Brian to the basement, pulling a stringed key from a hook on the wall and opening the safe. He took a step back to give the police officers a clear view of the weapons inside. “Take a look.”

  Brian knelt so he could study the assembled firearms. “We’ve got a shotgun, two hunting rifles, and a revolver. None of them are antiques, though. I also see an empty slot here where it looks like another weapon was housed up until recently.”

  Wayne leaned forward, interested. “Where?”

  Brian pointed. “See the dust? There’s a clear spot that indicates something else was resting there up until a few days ago or so.”

  “Do you think it was a Colt?” Wayne asked.

  “That’s just what I was going to ask you.”

  “I have no idea what was there,” Wayne admitted. “I never came down here to look, though. I guess you could ask Gilly, but I’m not sure she would know the answer either. I can guarantee she hasn’t been waddling up and down these steps over the past few months. They’re narrow and dangerous.”

  “Well, we need you to ask around,” Brian said. “We need to find out if anyone here had access to an antique Colt.”

  “Or if Ron had one and someone knew how to get their hands on it,” Jack added.

  “Okay,” Wayne said, rubbing his forehead. “I’ll get on it and report back as soon as I have answers.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Sixteen

  “I see you got my text.”

  Jack met Ivy in front of the Italian restaurant, a smile on his face as he pushed away from his vehicle and dropped a quick kiss on her upturned lips. His mother changed the dinner venue at the last second – Jack couldn’t help but wonder if she did it because she figured Ivy might not be able to make it – but he turned the tables on his mother and invited Ivy’s entire family to the cute bistro. It was located one town away from Shadow Lake – but only fifteen minutes driving distance – so Jack was thrilled when Luna, Michael, and Max agreed to the event. Felicity, on the other hand, was busy with Thanksgiving dinner preparations so she begged off. Jack had a feeling it was because she was leery of potential fighting so he didn’t blame her for bowing out.

  “I did get your text,” Ivy said, running her hand over the front of his dress shirt and smiling. “You look nice.”

  “So do you,” Jack said, looking her up and down. “You’re wearing a skirt that shows off your ankles. You’re a wild woman.”

  Ivy balked. “I show off my ankles.”

  “Most of your skirts barely show off your ankles,” Jack pointed out. “This one actually shows off part of your calves. I’m impressed. Sometimes I forget you have legs.”

  “You won’t forget when I kick you in the behind,” Ivy grumbled, gripping her coat tighter to ward off the cold. “Aren’t you freezing? You didn’t have to wait for me.”

  “Only my mother and Denise are in there so far and I didn’t feel like listening to them complain. I was kind of looking forward to spending a few minutes alone with you.”

  Ivy beamed. “Oh, well, in that case … .” She leaned into him, pressing her head to his chest as he stroked her back. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, relishing their moment of shared warmth.

  Jack let out a sigh as he rocked from side to side. “So, I heard you had a visit from Gilly McKinnon today. You failed to mention that earlier.”

  “We didn’t get a chance to talk earlier,” Ivy protested, pulling her head back. “How is that my fault?”

  Jack shrugged. He wasn’t exactly angry. He wouldn’t describe himself as ambivalent either, though. “You could’ve called. Wayne told Brian and me when we stopped at the farm to discuss antique weapons. By the way, you don’t know anyone with acc
ess to an older model Colt revolver, do you?”

  Ivy pursed her lips as she tilted her head to the side. “I think Brian has one.”

  Jack cocked an eyebrow, amused. “I can’t believe you know that. Brian told me about his gun and said I might be surprised how many people collect them. I thought perhaps you knew some gossip my partner might’ve missed.”

  “You might not realize this because you think all country folk talk about guns and pumpkins, but I don’t spend a lot of time worrying about what sort of firearms my neighbors are buying,” Ivy admitted.

  “Guns and pumpkins?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Not even remotely,” Jack said, tucking a strand of Ivy’s hair behind her ear as he smiled. “Tell me about your day with Gilly.”

  “It wasn’t really a day,” Ivy countered. “She heard the story about Aunt Felicity and me freaking out about having to kill a live turkey so I was fresh on her mind and she went for a drive to clear her head. She was going past the nursery and saw the greenhouse door open and took a chance. She’s ready to pop any second so I was just glad her water didn’t break when I was trying to clean up the greenhouse.”

  “Yes, thank you for that lovely visual,” Jack deadpanned, earning a grin for his lame joke delivery. “What did she want to talk about?”

  “Nothing regarding the case, if that’s what you’re worried about. I did ask if they were in financial trouble and she denied it. I felt kind of bad because she looked worried when she left.”

  “Yeah, we talked to Wayne about that and he said it was normal to take out big loans in the winter and pay them off in the fall so I’m not convinced we’re heading in the right direction on that one. I can’t decide if that sounds like a legitimate business plan or not. You own a business. Would you do that?”

  Ivy tapped her bottom lip as she considered the question. “No, but I don’t have nearly as much overhead as they do. I grow the bulk of my own plants from seedlings so even though I lose quite a few of them in the rooting process I’m not out very much money when it happens.