Wicked Games (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 17) Read online

Page 17


  “I guess we’ll find out if that’s true later, huh? For now, I’ll be leaving. I’m sure you know where to find me when you want to file your formal apology.”

  With those words, Greg flounced out of the room, leaving Jack with a sick feeling in his stomach as he turned back to Ivy.

  “Do you want to call it a draw or continue being mad?” Ivy asked after a beat.

  “It’s a draw,” Jack said morosely.

  “That’s what I figured.” Despite herself, Ivy was amused. The feeling only lasted a few seconds, though. Then she started rubbing her head because she could feel an oncoming headache. “Things keep getting worse and worse, don’t they?”

  “Yup.” Brian bobbed his head. “We’re in deep now. We need to figure out a way to get out of this ... and fast.”

  17

  Seventeen

  Jack had a problem ... and he had no idea how to fix it. As a decorated police officer, he liked to think he could handle any tense situation. Dealing with Ivy was never as easy and smooth as he would’ve liked, though.

  That was probably why he loved her more than anything.

  Before he moved to Shadow Lake, he never paid much attention to the women he dated. In hindsight, he realized that made him the bad guy in his relationship. He honestly wouldn’t have cared back then. Ivy made him want to be a better man, though.

  Despite that, he remained furious with her ... and guilty about what was to come with Greg. Somehow he was in the worst possible situation, and he hated it.

  Rather than worry about dinner, they picked up takeout at the diner and then headed home at the end of Jack’s shift. Ivy was quiet for the duration of the ride, contemplative. That concerned Jack almost as much as the fact that she’d put herself at risk to take in a meth dealer, peaceful as it may have been. Honestly, that galled him more than it probably should and he recognized he needed to get a handle on his temper.

  “Maybe we should postpone the wedding,” Ivy announced out of nowhere as they sat at the kitchen table with the takeout containers.

  An odd sensation seized Jack by the heart and he briefly wondered if he should start looking up the signs of a stroke on WebMD. “What? You want to cancel the wedding?”

  The look she shot him was dark. “I said postpone, not cancel.”

  “Isn’t that the same thing?”

  “Not in the least.” She let loose a sigh and rested her hand on top of his. He didn’t turn his over to link their fingers as he usually would. He was too frozen in terror to consider it. “I don’t want to miss out on a honeymoon with you. I’m looking forward to that almost as much as being married to you.”

  His expression softened, but the fear refused to completely ebb. “Then why do you want to postpone?”

  “I don’t want to. I want to be married to you more than anything. It’s just ... we both know Greg is going to find a way to increase my community service. It’s going to happen.”

  “That’s a defeatist attitude.”

  “Is it? You saw the look on his face. He hates me.”

  “No, honey, he doesn’t.” Jack shifted his chair so he could stare directly into her eyes, nothing between them, including the table. “He has a crush on you. Whether harmless or otherwise, it’s written all over his face whenever he sees you. He hates me because I have you ... at least I hope I do.”

  Rather than soothe his frazzled nerves and dented ego with kisses and coos, Ivy pinched his flank.

  “Ow!” He wriggled on his seat. “What did you do that for?”

  “Because you’re being an idiot, Jack.” Ivy kept her tone level, but it took effort. “The fact that you could think, even for a second, that I don’t want to marry you is insulting. I love you so much it consumes me sometimes. I worry it’s not healthy. I don’t really care, though, because I can’t live without you.”

  Jack turned sheepish. “I’m not trying to be difficult. I just ... it hurt when you said you wanted to postpone the wedding.”

  “I don’t want to do it. I also don’t want to miss out on a great honeymoon, and that’s what’s going to happen if Greg gets his way.”

  “Then I won’t let Greg get his way.”

  Ivy snorted. “And how are you going to make that happen? You don’t have any power over him, Jack.”

  “No, but I can call the magistrate and explain things. I’ll take the blame for this.”

  “No.” She immediately started shaking her head. “I don’t want you getting in trouble.”

  “And I don’t want you being tortured, and leaving you with that man is akin to torture.”

  Amusement lit her eyes as she brushed her thumb over his eyebrow. “We’ve been over this a hundred times. It will be over in a few weeks. People manage to make it through community service without having issues all the time. We can’t ask for special treatment. That’s not fair.”

  Jack believed otherwise and he stubbornly stuck out his lower lip. “I don’t care. I can’t sit back and watch him hurt you. I’m not wired that way.”

  “I know you’re not but ... there doesn’t seem to be a way around it. I want the honeymoon we planned — even if you only agreed to the glamping because you thought it was best for me — and I don’t want to have to compromise to get what I want. That might mean pushing back the wedding a few weeks.”

  “No.” Jack was stubborn to the point of no return sometimes and that was on full display now. “I want to be married to you. If I didn’t think your mother and aunt would melt down in fantastic fashion, I would drag you to the justice of the peace right now and put a ring on your finger. I don’t want to delay anything. It feels as if we’ve been fighting to get to this point in our lives since long before we met. I don’t want to delay it.”

  “Then ... maybe we can get married at the same time but delay our honeymoon.”

  “No.” Jack shook his head, firm. “We’re getting exactly what we want when it comes to all of that. I’m not going to let our dreams get derailed, not even for a single day. I’m going to fix this.”

  “What if you can’t?”

  “I refuse to let that sort of thinking into my head.”

  She held his gaze for a full beat and then sighed. “Okay. We’ll figure it out. No delays.”

  “On anything.” He cupped her chin and swooped in for a kiss. “This is all going to work out exactly as we dreamed. I’ve waited my entire life to feel as if I belonged somewhere, to someone. I’m there, and I want things to be perfect for you. I will figure it out.”

  Ivy nodded, solemn. “Okay. I just wanted to make things easier for you. I forget how hard that head of yours is. You’re not happy unless you’re doing it the hard way.”

  Jack arched an eyebrow and pinned her with a pointed look. “Did you really just say I’m the one with a hard head and keep a straight face?”

  “Yes. My head isn’t hard. It’s the perfect consistency.”

  The way she delivered the line made him grin. “Uh-huh.”

  “It is.”

  “Yes, I agree. You never do anything in a hard-headed manner.”

  “I don’t.”

  He didn’t release her chin, instead staring deeply into her eyes. “I love you more than anything.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “You’re still in trouble for that crap you pulled with Jason Fortin.”

  “You can’t yell at me for that. He was afraid and I was trying to create the safest situation for everybody involved. I did nothing wrong.”

  “The fact that you believe that is terrifying. I don’t want to fight, though, so we’re done talking about it.”

  “I think that’s best for all concerned.”

  “I figured you would say that. Just one thing, though.” His voice was husky. “I reserve the right to bring it up again if the glamping goes wrong.”

  “The glamping isn’t going to go wrong.”

  “It’s us. It’s going to go wrong.”

  “It’s not. Have faith.”

 
He moved his hand to the back of her head and tilted her mouth up so he had easy access. “Fine. I’ll have faith.” He graced her with a torrid kiss. “Something bad is going to happen on the glamping honeymoon, though. Mark it down because you’re going to have to acknowledge I’m the smartest man in the world — in public — when it happens, too.”

  Ivy smirked. “You sound sure of yourself.”

  “I am. I don’t want to talk about it for the rest of the night, though. I just want to talk about you ... and me ... and our bed.”

  “We have to eat first.”

  “Then you’d better start shoveling it in. I have very specific plans for you, honey, and I want to get to them as soon as possible.”

  “I guess I can deal with that.”

  “Somehow I thought we would be agreement.”

  IVY AND JACK WERE A TANGLE OF arms and legs when they fell asleep, Ivy’s head resting against Jack’s shoulder. They hadn’t made plans to dream walk together — they both agreed it was important to live in the present versus constantly focusing on the imaginary worlds they created — so Ivy was confused when she landed in the spot where she’d been performing her community service.

  “Oh, man.” She made a face as she glanced around, frustrated. “I can’t even get away from this place in my sleep.”

  She was rueful as she studied the landscape. She couldn’t figure out why her subconscious had insisted she visit this place ... especially when there was nothing of note to pay attention to.

  Then she saw it.

  Out of the corner of her eye, a hint of black caught her attention and when she looked in that direction, she saw a shadow. It wasn’t a normal shadow, of course. It wasn’t a shady spot offered by a tree. It was something else entirely, and it caused her to shudder. The figure — because that’s what it was — was upright, and it looked like a woman.

  “What the ... ?” Ivy licked her lips and searched the location for additional signs of movement. Finding none, she moved in the direction of the trees. That’s where the shadow disappeared. That’s where it was waiting for her. Dream logic was a terrifying thing, but Ivy recognized that one thing for certain. The shadow was an entity ... and it wanted to talk to her.

  Once she crossed from the field to the trees, Ivy’s anxiety ratcheted up a notch. It was darker beneath the canopy, and even though she knew that didn’t necessarily mean she was in danger, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something monumental was about to happen.

  “This is where I died,” a voice announced, causing Ivy to jerk her head to the left. “This is where I took my last breath.”

  Ivy let loose a strangled cry when she realized the shadow was standing directly next to her and she could make out human features underneath all the shimmery black. The entire thing was freaky and she had no idea what to make of it. “Sasha.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a revelation. In her heart, she knew who the shadow belonged to. She’d seen a similar phenomenon once before.

  “Of course it’s me.” Sasha’s voice had somehow mutated, was more raspy than Ivy remembered. It sounded dark, and perhaps not from despair. “Who else do you know that died out here?”

  “That’s a fair point.” Ivy hated how shaky her voice sounded. “I ... um ... don’t know what to say about any of this.”

  Sasha cocked her head to the side. “I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to avenge me.”

  “But ... that’s not really my job.” Even as she said the words, Ivy recognized they weren’t what Sasha wanted to hear. “I just mean ... I can’t help you. I have other things to focus on. Jack is going to help you, though. He’s going to figure out who did this.”

  Wisps of annoyance rolled over Sasha’s face. “Are you kidding me? You already know who did this.”

  Ivy shook her head, bewildered. “I don’t know who did this. Why do you think I know who did this?”

  “Because I can see what’s in your mind. I know.”

  Ivy didn’t believe that. In her heart, she recognized the dream for what it was. Her subconscious was desperate for her to figure out the answers. That way there was still a chance she and Jack would be able to enjoy the honeymoon of their dreams. She wanted that so badly her imagination was manifesting in ridiculous ways.

  And then something occurred to her.

  “Wait.” She slid her eyes to Sasha, her mind busy. “You’re the thing I saw outside of Jason’s house the night we went there to confront him.”

  Sasha sent her a “well, duh” look and rolled her eyes. “How can it possibly have taken you this long to figure that out?”

  Ivy wasn’t a fan of the woman’s tone, but it did beg a particular question. “You have a dark soul.”

  “Excuse me?” Sasha arched an eyebrow. “Is that any way to address the dead? I was murdered. I think I deserve a little respect.”

  “That very well may be,” Ivy conceded, her spine starting to stiffen. “You’re evil, though. I’ve seen this before. I mean ... not this exact thing. I’ve seen a corrupted soul, though. If you had one, that means you weren’t the innocent girl everyone believed.”

  “Oh, now I know I’ve been insulted.” Sasha folded her arms over her chest, haughty. “I can’t believe you would dare say that to me.”

  Ivy ignored her tone. “You were with Jason at the golf course that night.” She was trying to work things out in her head. If a dark version of Sasha remained, then there had to be a reason for it. Her subconscious believed she already knew that reason. Perhaps she did. “He said you wanted a bad boy but were upset when you found out what he did for a living. What if that wasn’t true?”

  Sasha snorted. “Jason isn’t nearly the criminal mastermind that he thinks he is. Why do you think he came to you to protect him from your boyfriend? He’s a poser.”

  Poser. The word reverberated through Ivy. She was missing something. “Were you killed because of something you were doing, Sasha?”

  “You mean trying to get out of this town?”

  It was a sentiment Ivy was familiar with, although not from personal experience. She’d never felt it. Not only was Shadow Lake her home by default, but she also happened to love the town. Others, though, felt trapped by the confines of small-town life. Most of the kids who graduated from the local high school were desperate to get out. They wanted to sample city life, even if they ended up moving to a different area once the realities of a new world seeped in. Since there was no industrial base, there weren’t a lot of options for teenagers planning a future. For people like her and Jack, things worked out. Not everyone was that lucky, though.

  “Where did you want to go?” The question was lame but Ivy was still trying to reason things out and it gave her a buffer.

  “Does it matter?” Sasha’s eyes flashed with impatience. “Anyplace is better than here.”

  “I guess.” Ivy rubbed the back of her neck. “I know you think I’ve figured out who killed you, but ... I really haven’t. If you could tell me, that would be great.”

  “You know.” Sasha’s voice turned dark and dangerous.

  “I don’t. I’m sorry. I keep racking my brain and I don’t have an answer.”

  “You know.” Sasha’s tone was accusatory. “You just don’t want to help me because you think I’m evil.”

  “Oh, that’s not true,” Ivy protested, shaking her head. “I mean ... you have a dark soul. It’s obviously still running around because I saw it that night at Jason’s house.” She paused a beat. “Hold up. What were you doing at Jason’s house? He wasn’t the one who killed you.”

  “He killed my dreams,” Sasha shot back hatefully. “He’s the reason I ended up dead in the first place. If he’d just stuck to the original plan and not tried to branch out ... .”

  “Branch out?” Ivy’s eyebrows drew together. “Wait, do you mean with the meth dealing? Were you involved in that?”

  The look Sasha shot her was withering. “Have you not been listening? I didn’t want to stay here. I hated it here. I
hated everything about this place. My parents wouldn’t give me the money I needed to get out, though. They said I had to work for it ... even though there were no jobs here.”

  “Oh, geez.” A theory started taking shape in the recesses of Ivy’s mind. “You were dealing, too. You were only dating Jason because you either wanted to keep an eye on him, or maybe even steal his clients. That’s the answer to the riddle.”

  “And what riddle is that?” Sasha asked, a smug smile on her face. “Is my complicated life vexing you?”

  Ivy ignored her snarky attitude. “I couldn’t figure out why you were dating Jason. You seemed above him. Maisie? She’s a total loser magnet. She makes sense. You, though ... you seemed above that.”

  “I was above that. I was so much better than him. The true crime was that he didn’t realize it.”

  “He didn’t kill you, though.” Ivy wasn’t certain of much, but she was sure of that. “Someone else was there that night, someone you were working with.”

  Sasha smirked. “You’re getting closer.”

  “Someone who was familiar with the area where you were found,” Ivy muttered, more to herself than anybody else. “Someone who was working on my crew. He or she knew you would be discovered in the woods.”

  “I guarantee that wasn’t set up out of the goodness of anybody’s heart.”

  “Probably not,” Ivy agreed, thoughtful. “The answers are right in front of me, though.”

  “They are,” Sasha agreed, shifting closer. Her eyes were on fire. “Now wake up and solve my murder, you incompetent idiot! I might not have been able to escape like I wanted, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want others to pay for what was done to me. It’s up to you to see that happens. So ... wake up right now!”

  18

  Eighteen

  Ivy woke with a start, bolting to a sitting position in bed, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Jack.” His name was a tremulous whisper on her lips.

  “Hmm.” His eyes were still closed, his face serene in sleep. On a normal morning, Ivy would’ve been more than happy to snuggle close to him and rub her cheek against his morning stubble. It was one of her favorite rituals to start the day. There were more important things happening today, though.

 

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