Wicked Times (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 3) Read online

  Jack found himself in Ivy’s favorite meadow when the dream claimed him, his heart rate increasing as he glanced around. There she was … sitting in her fairy ring. Her back was to him and she was resting her head against her knees as she sat on the ground and stared at the weathered tree that looked as if it had a wizened face carved into it.

  Jack remained behind her, his heart clenching as he watched her. Was she in pain? Did she eat dinner? Was she alone at the house? God, did she wait for him only to find he abandoned her?

  Jack didn’t have answers to those questions. The ones he supplied via his imagination filled him with internal disgust. How could he leave her after she was shot? She was never going to forgive him. He didn’t blame her.

  Instead of approaching, instead of offering a lame excuse that would only hurt both of them, Jack settled on the ground and rested his head against the roughened bark of a nearby tree and watched her. He spent hours like that. He never uttered one word … and she never turned around.

  “WAKE up,” Brian ordered the next morning, tossing a glass of water on Jack’s face and causing him to bolt upright.

  “What the hell?” Jack sputtered.

  “You were snoring loud enough to wake the dead,” Brian said, moving away from Jack’s bed. “What are you even doing here?”

  “I … what … I live here! What are you doing here?”

  “I’m looking for you because you were supposed to be at work an hour ago,” Brian answered, his tone hostile. “Now, I wasn’t initially worried because I figured you were at Ivy’s house and you didn’t want to wake her. Imagine my surprise when I found out that wasn’t the case.”

  Jack stilled. “You didn’t go over there, did you?”

  “I did,” Brian replied, irked. “I knocked on her door and found an incredibly angry Max on the other side. Don’t worry, Ivy didn’t wake up. They gave her powerful painkillers that knocked her out once she finally relented and let Max shove them down her throat.”

  “That’s good,” Jack murmured, rubbing his forehead. He had a killer hangover. “What did the doctor say?”

  “The doctor said you’re an ass.”

  Jack rolled his eyes and tossed the covers off of him as he shifted his legs to the side of the bed. His stomach felt queasy. “What did the doctor really say?”

  “She’s fine, Jack,” Brian snapped. “She’s going to have a rough day today, but then she should pretty much be back to normal. That is if she’s done crying by then.”

  Jack rolled his neck, cracking it. “Why was she crying?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “I have no idea,” Jack lied. “What did Max say?”

  “What did Max say?” Brian was beside himself as he strode around Jack’s bed and lifted his partner’s cell phone. He wordlessly powered it up, his finger gliding over the screen until he found what he wanted. He put Max’s voicemail on speaker so they both could hear it.

  “Jack, I don’t know what’s going on, but Ivy is really upset,” Max said, his voice calm. “She said you left her. I told her she was overreacting and that you were probably just out getting some air, but she’s kind of … hurt. Call me when you get this.”

  Jack’s heart sank. “I … .”

  “We’re not done,” Brian said, waiting as another message kicked in.

  “Okay, Jack, I’m not going to lie. I’m worried.” Max’s voice was cold this time. “It’s been an hour. They’re going to release Ivy in another hour. Why aren’t you here? She says you’re gone and you’re not coming back. I … don’t you even think about doing this to her. This was exactly what she was afraid of. I … call me.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” Jack said softly.

  “Oh, there’s another one,” Brian said, his smile grim as Max’s voice filled the air for a third time.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Max seethed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You abandoned her after she was shot. You’re a … piece of crap. Don’t you ever come near her again. It’s two in the morning and she’s refusing to take the painkillers because she doesn’t want to see you in her dreams. She’s afraid to sleep. She’s in pain! I hate you. Don’t you ever even think about looking at my sister again. I’m not joking. I will kill you.”

  Jack was gutted. Max would only say those things if he was at his wit’s end. For that to happen, Ivy would have to be wrecked. “I … .”

  “Don’t bother making excuses,” Brian warned. “I’m on Max’s side on this one – which is why I’m deleting these messages so you can’t have him arrested for threatening a police officer.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Jack said, forcing himself to his feet. “I … I needed some time to myself. I needed to think.”

  “No, you needed to drink and wallow in your misery,” Brian corrected. “Do you know what I find interesting?”

  “I don’t really want to hear this.”

  Brian ignored him. “You were shot in the chest and left for dead,” he said. “You then turned around and watched your girlfriend get shot and instead of giving her a shoulder to lean on, you abandoned her and made things worse. That’s a pretty obnoxious personality defect you’ve got going on there.”

  “Is there something else you wanted to tell me?” Jack asked, shuffling toward the bathroom. “Do you have actual news or do you want to yell at me some more? If you’re going to yell, you could at least make coffee while I’m in the shower.”

  Brian studied his partner for a moment. They’d only known each other for a short amount of time, but he could see the man crumbling in front of his eyes. Despite knowing Jack’s tortured past, Brian was having trouble mustering any sympathy for a man who would do what Jack did.

  He tossed the file he was carrying on Jack’s bed. “Make your own coffee.”

  “What is that?” Jack asked, his eyes zeroing in on the file. “Is that the ballistics report?”

  “It is,” Brian replied.

  “What does it say?”

  “The gun used to shoot Ivy came up with two matches in the system,” Brian replied coolly. “The first was a recent entry. Those results came in yesterday.”

  “It was Mark Dalton, wasn’t it?” Jack was dumbfounded. “Whoever shot Mark drove over here to shoot Ivy. Why?”

  “I can’t be sure that Ivy was the target,” Brian answered. “She wasn’t the only one in the park yesterday. I collected her picnic basket, by the way. I was going to drop it off this morning, but Max’s rage flustered me … not that I blame the boy. He’s always had a protective streak a mile wide where his sister is concerned.”

  “I don’t care about the picnic basket,” Jack seethed. “Screw the stupid picnic basket. Are you saying you think I was the target?” Jack swallowed, his mouth somehow dryer than it was moments before. “God. Are you saying Ivy was shot because of me?”

  Despite his anger, Brian felt pity welling in his chest. The next round of answers would most assuredly be enough to drop his partner to his knees. He wasn’t pulling punches, though.

  “I told you there were two ballistics matches,” Brian said. “Don’t you want to know what the second one was?”

  Jack waited, his patience wearing thin.

  “The third shooting was in Detroit,” Brian replied. “It was a little more than seven months ago.”

  Jack’s heart hammered, blood rushing past his ears as he realized what he was about to hear. “No … .”

  “Yes,” Brian countered. “The gun used to shoot Mark Dalton is the same gun that someone used to fire at Ivy yesterday. It’s also the same gun your old partner used to plug you in the chest.”

  Jack’s heart sank. “I … that’s not possible. Marcus Simmons is dead. He tried to outrun law enforcement when they were closing in on him after my shooting. He ran into a guardrail on the freeway and his car flipped over the edge and exploded.”

  “I’m not saying it’s Marcus,” Brian said. “I’m saying it was his gun. What you have to ask yourself is who had ties wi
th Marcus. Someone managed to get his gun, and if I’m not mistaken, they’re going after you for a reason. Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t seem to know a lot of anything this morning,” Brian said. “Why don’t you think about it for an hour or so and get yourself together. I’ll meet you back at the station in a little bit.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Spend some time away from you,” Brian replied. “You’re not my favorite person right now and I can’t drink to run away from my problems because I have a job to do. You need to take a shower, drink some coffee, and do some thinking.

  “I’ll apologize to Ivy.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Brian shot back. “You need to think about who is going after you. You’ve already fouled up Ivy’s life. If I were you I would sear the memory of that picnic into your brain, because it’s probably the last happy memory you’re going to have with her.”

  “Don’t say that,” Jack protested.

  “Son, I know you’re hurting and part of me feels badly for you,” Brian said. “That doesn’t excuse what you did. You did the one thing you told her you wouldn’t do.”

  “What?” Jack already knew the answer. He needed someone else to say it to make his misery complete.

  “You broke her heart.”

  Seven

  “Hey, kid. What do you want for breakfast?”

  Ivy fixed Max with a dark look as she shuffled toward the kitchen table shortly before ten. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Pancakes it is.”

  “I said I wasn’t hungry,” Ivy barked, irritation with Max’s jovial nature and her own hurt warring for supremacy in her muddled mind. “I don’t want to eat.”

  “Well, you’re going to eat,” Max countered, refusing to coddle his morose sister. He loved her, but he’d often found tough love to be the best option when she got in a mood … and her current mood looked to be one for the ages. “I’ll make you pancakes and you’ll feel better.”

  “Did you ever think maybe I don’t want to feel better, Max?” Ivy challenged. “Did you perhaps think I want to … do whatever I want for a change?”

  Max ran his tongue over his teeth as he considered how to answer. “So, do you want blueberries in your pancakes?”

  “Ugh!”

  “Ivy, I know you’re upset,” Max said, his expression softening. “I know that Jack taking off hurts more than the gunshot wound. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I’m going to beat him up. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Leave him alone, Max,” Ivy said, her voice cracking. “Just … let him go. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  Max didn’t believe her. “You’re not letting him go. You’re upset … and you’re angry … and I’m hoping you’re going to turn into one of those real housewives I see on television and beat his car with a baseball bat. You’re not letting anything go right now. That’s written all over your face.”

  “Let me be, Max.” Ivy was petulant as she reached down to stroke her black cat behind his ear. Nicodemus slept with her the entire night, not moving as much as a whisker as she cried herself to sleep. He was the only thing she wanted to be around right now.

  “I can’t do that, Ivy. You’re my sister and I love you.”

  The sound Ivy made was something akin to a wounded animal and Max couldn’t stop himself from going to her. He knew that crying was the last thing she wanted to do, but he also knew that was the one thing she desperately needed to do. He pulled her in for a hug, holding her tightly against his chest as she dissolved into tears.

  “I knew this was going to happen,” she sobbed.

  “I’m going to beat the piss out of him,” Max promised, rubbing her back. “I’m so sorry.”

  IVY couldn’t go to the nursery – mostly because she didn’t want to deal with the hundreds of questions she knew well-meaning customers would flood her with if they caught sight of her – so she opted to work in her own garden after breakfast in lieu of further wallowing.

  Max put up a token fight, but when she promised to keep her arm bandaged and not do anything requiring brute strength, he left her with her beloved plants. She needed time alone to think.

  Ivy was angry. There was no getting around it. Jack promised he would never purposely hurt her in one breath and walked away with the next. She expected it from the beginning. She had no idea why she was surprised. No, that wasn’t true. She knew why she was surprised. She believed his lies because she wanted them to be true. There could be no other explanation.

  Ivy was so lost in thought she didn’t hear Brian when he parked in the driveway, only looking up when he dropped the picnic basket close to her knees. For one brief moment hope flared in Ivy’s heart, only to be cut short when she realized who was visiting.

  “Thank you for bringing this back to me,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as unnaturally squeaky to him as it did to her. “This is one of my favorites. I’m glad I didn’t lose it.” Along with everything else, she added silently.

  Brian forced a tight smile. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine. It barely hurts.” That was kind of true. The pain had diminished to a dull ache thanks to the painkillers. “They say I’ll be back to my usual charming self tomorrow.”

  “That’s good,” Brian said, sitting on the bottom step of the porch so he could watch Ivy work. “How are … other things?”

  Ivy sighed. She knew why Brian was the one making the rounds instead of his partner. “You can tell Jack there are no hard feelings,” she said stiffly. “I expected him to walk away so I’m not surprised. I’m fine. He doesn’t have to feel guilty.”

  “Listen, Ivy, I’m not making excuses for him,” Brian supplied. “I just … he’s got a lot going on right now. If it’s any consolation, I think the absolute last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.”

  “That’s not any consolation, Brian,” Ivy replied. “I don’t care, though. I knew it would happen – no matter what he said – and it’s done now. I don’t expect anything from him. If he’s expecting me to make a scene … well … he’s fresh out.”

  “I think both of you are in a lot of pain right now,” Brian said. “I don’t want to add to your troubles, but we got the ballistics back from your shooting yesterday. There are some things we have to talk about.”

  “Oh,” Ivy said, realization dawning. “God, I’m so stupid. I thought Jack sent you here to make sure I was okay.”

  “No, he doesn’t even know I’m here.”

  “Well, that’s great,” Ivy said, rolling her neck until it cracked and gripping her small rake so hard her knuckles whitened. “He didn’t even care enough to see if I was okay. I … wow.”

  “Ivy, no,” Brian said, immediately shaking his head. “You’re following the exact wrong line of thinking. I do not want to get between the two of you – and I told him this morning that I was on your side – but he’s killing himself with guilt over what happened.”

  “Of course he is,” Ivy said. “He’s a brooder. It’s all about him.”

  “I know that’s how it feels right now, but Jack is … a freaking mess,” Brian said. “He drank himself to sleep last night and I woke him up with a glass of water to the face. He wasn’t in much of a state to think about much of anything while I was over there.”

  “Well, that’s the one good thing anyone has managed to tell me today.”

  Brian offered Ivy a wan smile. “Kid, I don’t think you’re grasping everything that’s going on here,” he said. “Jack cares about you a great deal.”

  “Yes, because you often leave someone in the hospital after they’ve been shot because you care.” Ivy knew she sounded bitter and yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself from piling on the vitriol. “I guess all those romance books I read as a teenager had it all wrong.”

  “Ivy, Jack is just as upset as you are right now,” Brian supplied. “In fact – and I know this sounds awful because you were the one who
was shot – but I think he’s taking it worse than you. He blames himself.”

  “He should blame himself. He walked out of the hospital without even saying goodbye.” Tears threatened to spill over. “He said he was getting some air.”

  “Yeah? Well, he found that air in the bottom of a bottle.”

  “Good. I hope he has a horrible hangover and throws up.”

  “We all hope that,” Brian agreed. “I … .” He looked up when he heard the front door open, pressing his lips together as he regarded Max. “I’m not causing trouble. There’s no reason to hover.”

  “It’s fine, Max,” Ivy said, waving him off. “We’re just talking.”

  “That’s good,” Max said, jingling the keys in his hand. “I have to run out to the lumberyard. There was some sort of accident with one of the workers. I have to be there to fill out some paperwork.”

  “Is it anything serious?”

  Max shook his head. “No. I still have to go out there. That’s what happens when you’re the boss.”

  “That’s fine,” Ivy said. “I’m fine. You can see I’m fine. Go and take care of your business. We’ve already spent more than enough time together for one twenty-four hour period.”

  Max smirked. “I know you love me no matter what you say,” he said, tousling her hair. “I called Dad.”

  “Oh, Max! I don’t need anyone smothering me today.”

  “He’s not going to smother you, drama queen,” Max countered. “I wanted him to know that I was leaving and you were on your own. I told him you promised not to do anything kooky. He’s agreed to stay away and not check on you for a couple of hours if you agree to text him if you need something.”

  “Like what?”

  “He’s willing to beat up Jack, too.”

  Ivy scowled. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop saying things like that? You can’t threaten a cop in front of another cop.”

  Max glanced at Brian, sheepish. “Yes, well, I already admitted I left a threatening message on Jack’s cell phone last night, so it’s not exactly a surprise to Brian that I’m going to beat him up.”