Wicked Warning (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 5) by Lily Harper Hart Page B

eyes on Jack. “Just … five minutes. I have to see for myself.”
    “Okay.” Jack immediately gave in. “You have to hold my hand and promise not to wander away, though.”
    “And Jack is up high on the teeter-totter,” Brian muttered.
    “Deal,” Ivy said, extending her hand. “You still have to massage me when we get home, though.”
    “And Ivy takes the dominant position,” Brian said, chuckling as Jack cuffed the back of his head.
    It didn’t take the trio long to search the area immediately surrounding the cabin. The woods were too thick to venture into, and after a few minutes Ivy was ready to admit defeat. That’s when a dark swatch of fabric on a nearby bush caught her attention.
    “Do you see that?”
    Jack followed her finger with his eyes and nodded. “I do,” he said. “Stay close.” Jack moved toward the fabric, applying plastic gloves before touching it. After testing it for a moment, he flipped it over and frowned. “Bellaire Middle School. It looks pretty old and ragged. I think it’s been out here for some time. I don’t think this is evidence we care about.”
    Ivy felt differently and shifted her eyes to Brian. “Do you know what that is?”
    Brian nodded. “Yup.”
    “Does someone want to tell me what it is?” Jack asked.
    “The kids in Alden don’t have their own school,” Brian supplied. “They’re bussed to Bellaire – and sometimes Mancelona – and they attend school there. Jessica attended Bellaire Middle School when she went missing.”
    “Oh.” Jack turned to Ivy. “I guess your intuition was right after all. I told you.”
    “I told you,” Ivy shot back.
    “I’m telling both of you to shut up,” Brian charged. “We need to get this to the lab. I don’t know if they can ascertain who it belongs to, but … it’s a start.”
    “It is,” Jack agreed. “I’m just worried where it’s all going to end.”

Eleven
    “ I don’t like it ,” Ivy said later that night, putting a bowl of pasta in the middle of the table and settling across from Jack. “It seems somehow … wrong.”
    “What do you mean?” Jack asked, reaching for a slice of warm bread and holding it up so he could inhale the heavenly scent. “Seriously, honey, you could be the perfect woman. You’re the prettiest thing in the world to look at and you cook like an angel.”
    Ivy arched a challenging eyebrow. “And what if I couldn’t cook? Would you still like me then?”
    “More than anything,” Jack replied. “We could live on takeout, don’t get me wrong. Other than the feet-tasting mushrooms, though, you’re the best cook I’ve ever been around.”
    “I’m going to get you to like morels if it kills me,” Ivy muttered.
    “We’ll see what happens in May,” Jack said. “Now, go back to what you were saying. What don’t you like about this? You’re the one who came up with Dorsey as a suspect.”
    “I know,” Ivy said. “I didn’t think he was a real suspect, though. I thought you would be going out there to rule him out. I don’t understand why he won’t answer questions.”
    “It’s not just that he won’t answer questions,” Jack said. “It’s that he sits there and stares at a wall and pretends he doesn’t hear us talking.”
    “Can’t you … I don’t know … beat him up and make him talk?”
    Jack barked out a hoarse laugh. “This isn’t television, Ivy,” he said. “Dorsey has rights. We have a mental health expert coming in tomorrow. I’m not sure what good it’s going to do, but we have to follow the rules.
    “It would be helpful if we could take Jessica to the station and have her identify him,” he continued. “Brian brought the subject up to her parents and they were … not thrilled with the idea.”
    “I don’t blame them,” Ivy said, twirling her fork in her pasta. “Oh, crap. I cooked shrimp for your half of dinner and forgot it.”
    “I don’t need shrimp. The vegetarian pasta is fine.” Jack always felt guilty when she