Wicked Beginning: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 1-3 (44 page)

“Well, well, well. You don’t look so bad for someone who was shot … other than that dirty look on your face.”

Felicity Goodings studied Ivy from behind the counter of her magic shop the next morning. In truth, while Ivy was a beautiful girl, she looked downtrodden and miserable right now. That wasn’t enhancing her beauty.

“Ha, ha. You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.” Ivy hopped up on one of the stools across from her aunt and let loose with a dramatic sigh that would only be welcome on a teenage television show.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Felicity tamped down her laughter. When she first heard Ivy was shot she was in her car and on the way to the hospital without giving it a second thought. She never had children of her own, so her sister’s children became surrogates. She loved both Max and Ivy with her whole heart.

After talking to Max, though, he explained Ivy was in no mood to be smothered – at least by family – and it would be better to wait to see her. Felicity knew it would only be a matter of time before Ivy came to her.

They were kindred souls – even though Ivy refused to acknowledge the magical things sprouting up in her life – and Felicity was convinced Ivy was coming into her own as a witch. She would never tell her niece that, though. The girl wasn’t ready for something like that.

“Why would anything be wrong?” Ivy asked, sarcasm practically dripping from her tongue. “My life is perfect. Haven’t you heard?”

Felicity pursed her lips. Something was definitely going on here. “Why are you so depressed?”

“I was shot.”

“I know you were shot. You were the lead story on the local news two days running.”

Ivy knit her eyebrows together. “I was? I didn’t know that. Did they use a photograph? I hate the way I look in photographs.”

Felicity couldn’t rein in her smile this time. Of course that would be the thing Ivy focused on. “They used a nice photo of you and Max,” she said. “I believe your brother supplied it from his own personal stash. He looked very handsome in it.”

Ivy scowled. “That means I probably looked goofy, doesn’t it?”

“Actually you looked beautiful,” Felicity countered. “It was taken last summer at the nursery. You had a beautiful skirt on, and a bright smile on your face. You’re wearing neither today.”

Ivy glanced down at her plain cargo pants and simple black shirt. “I’m not in the mood to dress up.”

“I can see that,” Felicity said. “Do you want to tell me what happened to inspire this mood?”

“Jack broke up with me.”

Felicity wasn’t sure if she heard her niece correctly. “I’m sorry … what?”

“Jack dumped me,” Ivy said matter-of-factly. “Actually, I’m not sure we actually got to that part. He waited with me in the hospital until Max showed up and then he just … took off.”

“I don’t understand,” Felicity said, confused. “Jack adores you. You two fight like you’re going to rip each other’s clothes off any second. Why would he do that?”

“He’s done with me.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. She could tell Ivy was feeling sorry for herself. The things she was saying about Jack made absolutely no sense, though. She’d seen the duo together. The atmosphere around them positively crackled when they were in the same room. “What did he say?”

“What does that matter?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes. She was in no mood for games. “Is Jack struggling because of what happened to him?” Despite her best intentions, Felicity accidentally got a gander at Jack’s wretched past when she inadvertently read his aura weeks before. She promised to keep it to herself, but since Ivy already knew about the shooting she wasn’t breaking any oaths. “You know it’s probably hard for him to deal with a shooting when it happens to someone he cares about. You should have a little patience.”

“Yes, this all my fault,” Ivy deadpanned. “I did not come here to listen to you take up for poor Jack and his moody bag of tricks.”

Felicity chuckled. She couldn’t help herself. “Let me see if I understand what’s going on,” she suggested. “You got shot and Jack freaked out. Instead of doting on you like you thought he should, he disappeared to freak out on his own.

“You overreacted and cut him out of your life and now you’re feeling sorry for yourself,” she continued. “Does that about sum it up?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you tell me how it happened while I pour you a soothing cup of tea,” Felicity prodded. “I might slip a mood elevator in there, but that can only help right now.”

Ivy rolled her eyes but launched into her story anyway. She didn’t come to her aunt because she wanted the woman to take Jack’s side. She came to her aunt because she needed a sounding board that wasn’t Max, Michael, or Luna. When she was done, Felicity was more sympathetic.

“Well, I’m not going to pretend that Jack did the right thing,” she said. “If you ask him how he feels about all of this, he’s probably going to say he did everything wrong. Still … .”

“I knew you were going to take his side,” Ivy hissed.

Felicity ignored her niece’s outburst. “Still, Jack went through a horror that you cannot possibly relate to.”

Ivy wordlessly gestured to her shoulder.

“Yes, a flesh wound that took seven stitches to close up is the same thing as several gunshot wounds to the chest, isn’t it?”

Ivy made a face. “I’m not saying it’s the same thing.”

“What are you saying?”

Ivy was frustrated. “He promised he wasn’t going to break my heart.” The tears she’d managed to avoid all day threatened to return. “He promised not to purposely hurt me.”

“Do you honestly think that’s what he’s doing?” Felicity asked, squeezing Ivy’s hand to offer her reassurance. “Do you think Jack feels so little for you that he just tossed you away without a second thought?”

“That’s exactly what I think.”

“Then you’re an idiot,” Felicity said, refusing to mince words. “Jack is so enamored with you he can’t see straight. He has been since you two sparred at your very first meeting. He fought his attraction to you as long as he could – failed miserably during the process – and then gave in because he was tortured without you.

“On your very first official date a cop was shot and Jack watched him die on the pavement,” she continued. “He was already shaken up before you were injured. How do you think he felt watching you hit the ground right next to him?”

“Probably better than I felt.”

“You’re being a complete and total pain,” Felicity grumbled. “Jack panicked. He didn’t know what to do, so he panicked. It happens sometimes. I know you’ve put Jack up on some kind of a pedestal, but he’s entitled to make a few mistakes. You’re not exactly perfect yourself, my dear.”

“I wouldn’t have left him if he was shot.”

“You’re not haunted by the same memories Jack is,” Felicity reminded her. “You saw his dreams. You saw what he survived – and how he tortured himself with the memories. Don’t you think he’s doing the same thing now?”

Ivy worried her bottom lip with her teeth, conflicted. She’d been pushing those very thoughts out of her mind because it was easier to hate Jack than have empathy for him. If she understood his plight, if she gave in to the sympathy, then she would be right back where she started. “It hurts to think about him.”

“I’m sure it hurts him to think about you, too,” Felicity said. “He has guilt about your shooting plaguing him. He blames himself because whoever did this is going after you to punish him. He’s dealing with a lot more than you are right now.”

“He still broke my heart.”

“Or perhaps he merely delayed your happy ending,” Felicity suggested. “You two are not going to be able to stay away from each other no matter what. Jack may think he’s protecting you, but he’ll be back because you’re the only thing keeping him sane.”

“Well, that’s a sad commentary on his mental fortitude.”

“You make me laugh, girl,” Felicity said, snickering. “We both know that you’re going to forgive Jack once he gets his head out of his rear end. Instead of working against him, why don’t you try helping him so you can get this nastiness behind you and have a better picnic.”

Ivy stilled. “What do you mean?”

“Ivy, I think you’re missing a very important piece of this puzzle,” Felicity said. “The gun used to shoot Jack … and the police officer in Bellaire … and you … was thought to have burned up in the same fiery car crash that claimed Jack’s former partner.”

“How do you know that?”

“I called Brian because I wanted information on your shooting,” Felicity replied, not missing a beat.

“So you knew about all of this before I told you? Why did you make me go through the entire story again?”

“Because I wanted to see what kind of spin you put on it. You could be a human carousel.”

“Oh, whatever,” Ivy muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. “If that gun was supposed to be destroyed, how did someone get it?”

Felicity internally chuckled. Ivy was finally thinking things through clearly. “That’s one of the important questions we need answers to,” she conceded. “The other one involves Jack’s partner. This is obviously retribution for what happened in Detroit. Someone is sending Jack a message, although we can’t be sure what it is yet. So, what we need to ask ourselves is who loved Jack’s partner enough to want revenge?”

“Huh.” Ivy was lost in thought. She hated it when her aunt was right. “How can we find out the answers to those questions?”

Felicity’s eyes twinkled. “I was hoping you would ask that. I have an idea.”

JACK
sucked in a deep breath and then punched in Laura Simmons’ phone number. He hadn’t seen the amiable woman since her brother shot him and left him for dead in the street. She didn’t come to see him in the hospital – although he didn’t blame her for that – and he didn’t go to Marcus’ funeral.

They met several times throughout his three-year partnership with Marcus, mostly at family barbecues and the like. She’d always been pleasant, if a little scattered, and a few times Jack worried she developed a crush on him. He didn’t think that would be a problem this time.

“Hello.”

“Laura?”

“Yes, this is Laura. Who is this?”

Jack had only a split-second to decide if he was going to retreat. When Ivy’s sad face flitted through his mind, he forced himself to be strong. “It’s Jack Harker.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a full thirty seconds. Jack was almost convinced she hung up on him when she found her voice. “I … wow, Jack. It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” Jack agreed. “I … um … how have you been?” As much as he wanted to get straight to the point he knew he would turn Laura off if he immediately started grilling her on the disposition of her brother’s body and what happened to his personal belongings.

“I’m okay,” Laura said. “It’s been … difficult … but I’m managing. How are you? I heard you moved.”

“I did,” Jack said. “I moved to a small town called Shadow Lake. It’s in the northwestern part of the lower peninsula.”

“That sounds … very different … from what you were doing down here.”

“I needed something different,” Jack said. “I needed a change. I needed a place where the pressure was lessened.”

“Did you find that in Shadow Lake?”

“I did.”

“Well, I’m happy for you,” Laura said. “Listen, Jack, I probably should’ve come to see you in the hospital after what happened. After Marcus died, it didn’t seem right and my mother was having trouble understanding everything the cops were saying. She didn’t believe he could possibly be guilty. It was a horrible time.”

“I understand that, Laura. I didn’t expect you to visit me. I wasn’t really in the mood to see people.”

“I’m sure you weren’t. I still should’ve made the effort to come and see you. It was just too hard.”

“It was hard on all of us,” Jack said, his discomfort rising. This was not what he wanted to talk about. “Laura, I didn’t just call to catch up on old times. I need to know what happened to your brother’s body after the explosion.”

Silence.

“Laura?”

“That’s a really strange question, Jack.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack offered. “There’s been a spot of trouble up here … two shootings in fact … and the ballistics came back as a match for Marcus’ gun. I need to know how that’s possible.”

“I’m not sure I have an answer for you, Jack. I never even wondered about what happened to his gun. I always assumed it burned up with him in the fire.”

“I did, too,” Jack said. “It doesn’t seem to be the case, though. What about Marcus’ body?”

“You don’t think he’s behind this, do you?” Laura asked. “I can assure you that he died in that fire. They ran dental records.”

“I don’t think it’s him,” Jack clarified. “I’m just getting all of my ducks in a row.”

“Well, he was cremated,” Laura explained. “He was burned pretty badly and they recommended we not see him … so we didn’t. We had him cremated and my mother put his ashes in an urn. It’s on the mantle above her fireplace.”

“And you have no idea what happened to his gun?”