Wicked Beginning: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 1-3 (41 page)

“Ivy!”

She didn’t get a chance to answer before the blackness claimed her.

Ivy woke up in the ambulance, the blaring siren causing her ears to ring as Jack clutched her hand and a paramedic worked on the opposite shoulder. Jack was ashen, his jaw clenched, and he looked as if he was going to pass out at any moment.

“What happened?” Ivy’s voice was thick as she tried to make her muddled brain work.

“You’re okay, honey,” Jack said, his voice cracking. “You’re … .” A tear slid down his cheek. “Oh, thank you for waking up.”

Ivy was stunned by the show of emotion. Despite the pain raging through her shoulder, her only concern was for him. “Are you okay?”

Jack barked out a harsh laugh. “Other than having a heart attack, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Focus on yourself.”

Ivy shifted her attention to the paramedic working on her arm. She recognized him as Jimmy Douglas. He was one of Max’s friends and graduated a few years ahead of her. “I’m not going to die, right?”

Jimmy smiled. “You’re not going to die. It’s just a flesh wound. It’s going to hurt like a bitch for a few days, but you’re going to be fine. You shouldn’t even have any scarring.”

Ivy turned back to Jack. “I’m fine. I’m going to worry about you now.”

“Don’t … honey … .” Jack struggled to collect himself. “Please don’t do that. Focus on yourself. I … I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Ivy was confused. “You didn’t shoot me, and I’ve given you plenty of reasons to take a shot since we met.”

Jack pushed Ivy’s hair away from her forehead with a shaky hand, his other hand tightening as he gripped hers. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I know it’s going to be okay. You don’t have to keep saying that. You’re starting to freak me out.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Jack promised. “I … I’m so sorry.”

“WHERE
is she?” Max hurried to Jack’s side thirty minutes later, the fatigued police officer taking a break from his incessant pacing to lean against the lobby wall.

“She’s being treated,” Jack replied dully. “They wouldn’t let me go back with her because they said I was too much of a distraction. They forced me to stay out here. I … she’s going to be okay.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Jack answered. “We were having a good time. She brought me a picnic. I … she bent over to pick up the picnic basket and the next thing I knew she was spinning around. I didn’t even hear the shot until it was already over.”

Max studied Jack’s wan face. “She’s going to be okay, right? Jimmy said she was going to be fine when he called. I’m a little worried given your reaction.”

“She’s going to be … fine.” Jack almost choked on the words. “It’s not a deep wound.”

“Well, we’ll never hear the end of it,” Max said, going for levity. “She’s a hypochondriac. You’re going to have to get used to that. Whenever she gets a cold in the winter she acts as if the world is ending.”

“This isn’t a cold, Max,” Jack said, his tone harsh. “She was … shot.”

“I know she was shot,” Max retorted. “Don’t you think I know that? I almost had eight different heart attacks while I was driving here. I’m trying to make you feel better. I’m worried you’re going to keel over.”

Jack pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Worry about your sister.”

“Yes, well, my sister is going to be more worried about you than herself,” Max countered. “Pull yourself together. She needs to see that you’re okay.”

Jack sucked in a steadying breath. “I’m sorry. I … .”

“I know,” Max said, lowering his voice. “It’s going to be all right. Come on. Let’s go and see Ivy.”

“They said I couldn’t go back there.”

“And I said you could,” Max said. “Come on. I promise it’s going to be all right.”

“THAT
hurts,” Ivy turned her head away from Dr. Martin Nesbitt and frowned as Max and Jack moved into the room. “Make him stop putting that needle in my arm. I don’t like it.”

Max smirked, dropping a quick kiss on Ivy’s forehead before turning to the doctor. “I’m glad to see you survived getting shot only to freak out about a needle.” He was secretly relieved to see her agitation.

“You know I don’t like needles.”

“That’s why that whole ‘I’m getting a tattoo’ threat you bandied about senior year didn’t scare anyone,” Max said. “She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?”

Nesbitt nodded. “She’s going to be fine,” he said. “Well, she’s going to be fine as long as she lets me treat this wound. I needed to numb the area before I can clean and sew it up. She’s being a pain.”

Ivy scowled. “I think I have the right to be a pain.”

“You do,” Nesbitt agreed. “I would prefer you not be in pain when you’re inflicting it on others, though. I’m funny that way.”

“It doesn’t really hurt that much,” Ivy said, her eyes drifting to Jack. He looked lost. “I’m fine, Jack.”

Jack forced a smile onto his face when he realized she was looking at him. “I know, honey. You should let the doctor treat you the right way, though. You don’t want that shoulder to get infected and have your arm fall off because you’re being difficult.”

“See, listen to Jack,” Max chided. “You’re going to be really hard to marry off if you’re missing an arm. The attitude is enough to scare most men away.”

Ivy narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to beat you when I get out of here.”

“Not with one arm you’re not.”

Ivy let loose with a long-suffering sigh, resigned. “Fine. Poke and prod me. I just don’t want to see it.” She tilted her head and focused on Jack again. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to make you dinner.”

“Ivy … .”

Max cut Jack off, worry the man was about to say something entirely stupid washing over him. “I’ll order pizza for everyone,” he said. “That’s my idea of cooking anyway.”

“That sounds good,” Ivy said, her eyes wary as they searched Jack’s face. He looked as if he was about to fall apart. She longed to offer him solace, but she had no idea how to do it. “Do you want to eat pizza with us?”

Jack frowned. “You were just shot,” he hissed. “You can’t be worrying about pizza. For crying out loud … .”

Max grabbed Jack’s arm and twisted it, scorching him with a harsh look. “Do you want to step out into the hallway with me?”

“Max, leave him alone,” Ivy ordered. “He’s just … upset.”

“I’m upset?” Jack’s voice bordered on shrill. “You were shot. Why aren’t you upset?”

“It’s just a flesh wound, Jack,” Ivy said, her face twisting. “I … I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to him,” Max snapped. “He’s being a … butthead.”

“Leave him alone, Max.” Ivy’s lower lip trembled. “You’re making things worse.”

“Don’t cry, honey,” Jack said, exhaling heavily through his nose as he tried to rein in his runaway emotions. “I’m sorry. I’m going to go out into the hallway and … get a drink of water. It’s going to be okay.”

Ivy mutely nodded, but she looked miserable.

“Get your arm taken care of the proper way,” Jack instructed. “Make sure you take care of that first and foremost.”

Ivy nodded again.

Jack flashed her a weak smile, moving to leave the room and then turning back. He strode to Ivy’s side and dropped a kiss on her forehead, lingering with both hands on either side of her face. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispered.

He left her with Max, trying to push the threatening tears in her eyes out of his mind as he trudged down the hallway. He moved toward the lobby, skirting to the side when he saw Michael and Luna Morgan hurry in the direction of their daughter’s room. He watched them go, his heart rolling, and then he walked out of the hospital and didn’t look back.

“I CAN’T
believe this happened,” Luna said, fussing over Ivy as she tried to make her comfortable. “I … this is beyond words.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Ivy said, rolling her eyes as her mother attempted to fluff her pillows. “Stop that!”

Luna frowned. “When your daughter gets shot, you get to make a big deal out of it. Shut your mouth and let me handle this my way.”

Ivy’s irritated gaze bounced from her mother to her father. “Do you want to help me here?”

“No. Once your mother is done fretting it becomes my turn. I’m going to put her to shame.” Michael was unruffled by the disgusted sound Ivy made in the back of her throat. “I’m going to double my efforts every time you make that noise.”

“Why couldn’t I be an orphan?” Ivy complained.

“That is not funny,” Luna snapped, waving her finger in Ivy’s face. “I’ve just about had it with you and that’s a pretty impressive feat given the fact that you were just shot.”

“I was barely shot, Mom,” Ivy said. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

“That’s because it’s all numbed up,” Max supplied. “It’s going to hurt tomorrow. Trust me.”

“That’s why we’re giving her painkillers,” Nesbitt said, striding back into the room. “Okay. I checked over your X-rays … .”

“Why did she need X-rays?” Luna interrupted. “I thought it was just a flesh wound.”

“Mom, let it go,” Ivy interjected. “I don’t care what documentary you saw on Oprah’s television network. One X-ray is not going to give me cancer.”

Nesbitt nodded knowingly. “I see where this is going. Ivy is correct. She’s not going to get cancer from this. I promise.”

“I still don’t understand why she needed an X-ray if it’s just a flesh wound,” Luna pressed. “Are you lying to me? Is this an elaborate cover-up to make me think she’s not hurt as badly as she’s really hurt? Oh, God, is she going to die? Tell me now.”

“Okay, we need to cut down your caffeine intake,” Michael said, cracking his neck as he pulled his wife away from the doctor. “You can see Ivy, right?”

Luna nodded.

“Does she look like she’s dying?”

“No.”

“Then she’s not dying,” Michael said, although he looked mildly troubled himself when he locked eyes with Nesbitt. “She’s not, right?”

The doctor was used to Michael and Luna’s eccentricities. Max broke quite a few bones during his athletic high school years – and Ivy broke a few herself – so he was accustomed to their histrionics. “She’s fine,” he said. “The bullet ripped through tissue in her shoulder. She was probably lucky that she was crouching at an odd angle when whoever it was fired at her. I’ve sewn up the wound and she’s going to be absolutely fine.”

“I want a second opinion,” Luna said.

“Ignore her,” Ivy hissed. “When can I get out of here?”

“You can go home tonight as long as you promise to be careful and rest,” Nesbitt said. “In fact, I would recommend getting some dinner into you and then taking the painkillers so you can sleep for a good ten hours.

“Your brother is right, even with the painkillers you’re going to be sore tomorrow,” he continued. “You are not to lift anything at that nursery. You are to keep the wound free and clear of dirt. I also think you should probably have someone stay out at the house with you to make sure you don’t overextend yourself.”

“I’ll be doing that,” Luna said.

“You will not,” Ivy shot back.

“I’ll do it,” Max said. “I’m used to her being a hypochondriac.”

“I don’t want you staying there either,” Ivy said, grimacing when she attempted to cross her arms over her chest. “I don’t want any of you staying with me.”

“Ah, I get it,” Max said, cocking a challenging eyebrow. “You want Detective Studmuffin to tend to your wound. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? I don’t think you’re allowed to do
that
until your shoulder heals either.”

Ivy, stilled, glancing around as realization finally settled in. “Where is Jack?”

Max shifted, confused. “I … don’t know. He’s probably still out calming himself down. He’s kind of a basket case. Do you want me to find him?”

Ivy shook her head, her heart twisting and causing more pain than the bullet. “No. I know where he’s at.”

“Where?”

“He … left me.”

“Tell me what we have.”

Brian Nixon jerked his head up at the sound of his partner’s voice. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the hospital with Ivy?”

“Ivy is in good hands,” Jack replied, his tone flat. “She’s being taken care of there. I need to know what’s going on here.”

Brian sighed, exasperated. Jack was a pig-headed mule on a good day. Someone going after Ivy was not a good day in his partner’s book. “We found the bullet on the ground next to the picnic basket. It’s cute that you two decided to have a picnic, by the way. You’re going to have all the busybodies in town atwitter because of that romantic gesture.”

Jack ignored the dig. “What about the shooter? Did anyone see the shooter?”

“We’re canvassing the neighborhood now,” Brian replied, tugging on his limited patience. He understood Jack’s concern. He wasn’t sure how much mania he could put up with, though. “That park is open, but the shot could’ve come from any direction. What direction do you think it came from?”

Jack searched his memory. “It came from the east.”

“That narrows it down,” Brian said, shifting his attention back to his computer screen. “We’re running the ballistics on the gun. It’s not going to come back tonight, though. If we’re lucky we’ll have it first thing in the morning. If we’re not lucky, it could take another day.”

“There has to be something to do,” Jack pressed.

“There is,” Brian said, choosing his words carefully. “Ivy needs to be taken care of. She was the one who was shot. Your only job for the rest of the day and tonight is to take care of her.

“I called the hospital,” he continued. “Jimmy said she was going to be fine and they were releasing her. Why aren’t you there to see her home?”

“Because finding out who shot her is more important than listening to her and Max argue about pizza!”

Brian held up his hands to ward off Jack’s imminent explosion. “You are a mess, son. You need to collect yourself. I suggest doing that before going back to Ivy. Take a walk or something.”

“She was standing right next to me,” Jack muttered. “She was right there and then … she almost wasn’t.”

“And I know what happened to you in Detroit,” Brian said, lowering his voice. “This has to be hard for you. She’s still the one who was shot. Pull yourself together and go to her. You’ll feel better when you see her.”

Jack wasn’t so sure. “Fine. I’ll leave. We’d better have those ballistics back first thing in the morning.”

“Hopefully Ivy will be able to kiss that surly attitude of yours away before morning,” Brian called to Jack’s retreating back. He didn’t get a response.

JACK
didn’t return to the hospital. Even as guilt ate away at him for hours, he stayed away from Ivy’s house. Instead he returned to his home, switched off his phone, and drank himself to sleep. He had to be sure he didn’t dream. If she found him in his dreams, he would have no excuse. He couldn’t bear the thought of those clear blue eyes accusing him of doing wrong when he already knew in his wounded heart that he was making a huge mistake.

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 with 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.”