“Fine.” The woman offered a wan smile. “I’m ... fine. I guess you could say that I’m lucky.”
“I’ll say so.” Mel’s smile was much more gregarious than that of his partner. He was good at putting victims at ease, and his world-famous charm was on full display now. “Can you tell us what happened?”
Her name was Vicky Thompson and she was a St. Clair County resident. She said she was familiar with the road and wasn’t speeding, but a deer bolting over the highway caused her to react out of instinct and overcorrect to avoid the animal. The next thing she knew, she was upside down in the ditch ... and freaking out.
“I didn’t think I could even get out of the car until that man came from nowhere to help me,” Vicky explained, rubbing her hands together. “He pulled me out of the window once he was sure I wasn’t too badly injured. I would still be in there crying if it wasn’t for him.”
Mel and Jared exchanged a curious look before turning their attention to the road.
“What man?” Jared asked finally. “Was he a passerby?”
Vicky shrugged, noncommittal. “He would have to be, right? What else would he be doing out here?”
“But where did he go?” Mel pressed. “I mean ... why did he leave? Did he give a reason for not waiting to talk to us?”
“He didn’t really speak.” Vicky was blasé. “He helped me out of the car, made sure I was all right, helped me dial 911, and then he took off.”
“Wait.” Jared held up his hand to still her. “Are you saying that he didn’t call for help?”
“No. I did.”
“What about a vehicle?” Mel asked. “You must have seen a vehicle.”
“I don’t know.” Vicky’s eyes flashed. “I don’t remember much. I was shaken. I’d just been in an accident, for crying out loud. Still ... he must’ve had a car. How else would he have gotten out here?”
“How else indeed,” Jared muttered under his breath as he turned his attention to the tire marks across the way. “That’s weird, right?”
Mel nodded. “Definitely. It’s not technically against the law, though.”
“Leaving the scene of an accident is against the law.”
“He stopped to help and then left. He had nothing to do with the accident so ... that’s not breaking the law.”
Jared disagreed, but it was hardly his biggest worry. “We should see if we can find tire treads. You know ... just in case.”
“Just in case of what?”
The younger police officer didn’t have an answer. All he knew was that he was uncomfortable with the turn of events. “Let’s just cover our bases, huh? We’ll go by the book.”
“Fine. That sounds like a plan to me.”
Two
Harper and Zander were knee deep in an argument when Jared let himself into the house shortly after his shift. He could hear them from the driveway, which didn’t bode well for the relaxing evening he had planned.
“What seems to be the problem, kids?” He shed his coat and left it on the rack before moving to the couch and giving Harper a welcoming kiss. “How come you didn’t text when you were done with your job?”
Flustered by the argument and conversational shift, Harper furrowed her brow. “I thought I did.”
“You didn’t.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry.”
She looked appropriately chastised, so Jared decided to let it go. “I was worried, but you look as if you’re in one piece.”
“She was a perfectly lovely ghost. She didn’t put up much of a fight. Er, well, after the initial moaning and groaning.”
“It was an easy job,” Zander volunteered, a cookbook open on his lap. “Harper is the one being a pain in the butt.”
“I am not.” Harper’s eyes fired, causing Jared to smirk as he sank onto the couch and collected her hand. “You’re the one being a pain.”
“I am sunshine and joy, and you know it!”
“Oh, whatever.” Harper looked to be at the end of her rope, something Jared recognized after months of sharing space with the rambunctious friends. “You’re the one who suggested I put off my move until after the snow flies because freezing rain might make it so we never see each other again.”
Zander bristled at her dismissive tone. “That’s a legitimate concern.”
Jared bit back a sigh. While Harper and Zander were never quiet — like ... never — the arguments that had popped up since news of shifting living arrangements became everyday household conversations were something to behold. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. If you’re that worried, I’ll buy extra ice melt to make sure her treks between houses are safe. Trust me. I’m the last person who wants Harper to suffer from a broken bone.”
“Ice melt?” Zander turned haughty. “Do you have any idea how bad ice melt is for the environment?”
“Honestly? No.”
“Well, it’s not good. It’s killed animals ... and plants ... and people. Harper is better staying here until April.”
Jared merely shook his head. “No. You’re simply getting cold feet. This is all going to work out for the best. Tell me what you guys were arguing about ... unless it was about Harper not moving. I cannot listen to that fight one more time.”
Harper’s smile was rueful. “You know you’re going to have to listen to that argument at least another twenty times, right? It’s not simply going to go away because you want it to.”
“You don’t know. The power of positive thinking and all that. If I put it out there into the universe, it might come back and benefit me threefold.”
“You’ve been watching too much television,” Zander chided. “I’m never going to let it go.”
“I know.” Jared rubbed his forehead and focused on the cookbook. “Are you guys arguing over dinner or something?”
“Not dinner tonight,” Zander replied. “Shawn is picking up subs, by the way. He should be home in a few minutes.”
“That sounds good.”
“We’re arguing about Thanksgiving dinner,” Zander explained. “I’m going to cook it and Harper is going to eat and love it ... if she ever shuts her hole.”
Harper’s eye roll was so pronounced it caused Jared’s heart to fill with warmth. The expressiveness of her face was one of his favorite things about her.
“Are you anti-Thanksgiving dinner and nobody told me about it?” Jared teased, poking her side. “I don’t know if we can continue if you don’t love mashed potatoes and turkey.”
“I’m fine with mashed potatoes and turkey,” Harper said. “I’m not fine with Zander’s insistence on taking over everything. We were supposed to be doing this together. You know, a last hurrah before we split into different houses. He’s being bossy, though, and I’m sick of it.”
“Ah. I see.” And, because he did see, Jared settled in for what he was sure would be a bitter stretch of days. He knew why Zander was picking a fight. The man couldn’t deal with his emotions — he was legitimately sad about Harper moving out — and the field he chose to wage his battle on was the Thanksgiving dinner table.
For her part, Harper was only arguing back because she was nervous. The idea of living away from Zander, even only across the road, made her antsy. Jared recognized this, found her reaction mildly cute, and decided to participate in the argument.
“So, what’s the problem?” He asked before the sniping could recommence. “Is there an argument about deep-fried turkey versus pan-roasted turkey? If so, I don’t care either way as long as there is turkey.”
The look on Zander’s face, the horrified bafflement, told Jared he’d taken a misstep. “What did I say?” He looked to Harper for help. “I was trying to be a peacemaker.”
Harper chuckled as she patted his leg. “You couldn’t possibly realize that Zander thinks deep-fried turkey is an abomination.”
“If turkey was meant to be deep-fried, there would be more things made out of turkey on sticks,” Zander barked. “Turkey is meant to be rubbed with garlic and herbs, loved, and delica
tely roasted at the perfect temperature over hours to trap in moisture. It is not meant to be lowered into a vat of bubbling oil for thirty minutes.”
Jared recognized right away that he’d stepped in it. “I take it back. Roasting turkey is the only way to go.”
Harper smirked at her boyfriend’s discomfort. “We actually agree on the turkey. What we don’t agree on is the sides.”
“Stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, rolls. That’s all I need,” Jared offered.
Zander’s scowl was back. “That’s the Neanderthal way of celebrating Thanksgiving.”
“I don’t think Thanksgiving was around when the Neanderthals were,” Jared offered helpfully. “Besides, since they were focused on fire and using rocks as tools, I’m pretty sure they would’ve taken their turkey any way they could get it.”
Zander’s expression was withering. “Oh, you’re so witty.”
Despite himself, Jared chuckled. “I am. I thought about being a standup comedian — or a clown — when I was a kid. Ultimately, being a police officer won out. The lure of clown college still calls to me.”
Harper pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Jared was a master when it came to messing with Zander. He knew exactly what to say to drive her best friend batty.
“You would make a lovely clown,” Zander said dryly. “I honestly think you should’ve gone that route. Harper would’ve never moved in with you then. She’s terrified of clowns.”
Harper balked. “I’m not terrified.”
Jared’s grin was lazy as he slid it to her. “I didn’t know you had coulrophobia.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Fear of clowns.”
“I can’t believe you know that word,” Harper marveled. “I didn’t know that was a real thing.”
“They have a phobia for everything.” Zander waved his hand dismissively. “To be fair, though, clowns are creepy. I don’t like them either. Sure, I would protect Harper if a killer clown attacked, but otherwise, I would like to avoid them.”
“Me, too.” Harper involuntarily shuddered as she shifted closer to Jared. “Don’t ever dress up like a clown, by the way. You’ll be sleeping alone for weeks until I can get the memory of that white makeup out of my head.”
“Duly noted.” Jared pressed an absent kiss to Harper’s forehead before shifting his eyes to the opening door.
Shawn, his arms laden with subs and bags of fries, grinned when he saw everyone grouped together. “This looks nice. No arguing tonight?”
“Oh, they’ve been arguing,” Jared countered. “Right now they’re fighting over sides for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Fun.” Shawn delivered the subs and fries to the coffee table. “Speaking of Thanksgiving, my mother is not coming. She says she will be here for Christmas if she can manage, but she’s trying to spread her time between my siblings and me, and she doesn’t want to visit until we’re officially living together so she can cast aspersions on our decorating choices.”
Zander’s expression turned imperious. “No one can cast aspersions on my decorating choices. My taste is impeccable. That’s why Harper and Jared are going to let me serve as an interior designer at their place.”
Now it was Jared’s turn to snort. “Over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Let’s not argue about this again,” Harper suggested, holding up her hands to dissuade her boyfriend and best friend from throwing down. “Let’s go back to talk about sides. Although, you said your mother might be coming for Thanksgiving, Jared. Is she?”
“She’s not,” Jared replied, choking back a smirk at the relieved look on Harper’s face. She picked the oddest times to be nervous, and Jared was amused she seemed legitimately worried about meeting his mother. “She is, however, coming for Christmas.”
Harper’s eyelids fluttered. “She is?”
“Yup. She wants to see the new house, too, but she wants to wait until we’re actually moved in. She’s spending Thanksgiving with my sister and Christmas with us.”
“Oh.” Harper’s cheeks burned as she absorbed the words. “That means we’re going to need to get a guest room ready.” She scratched her cheek, her mind working at a fantastic rate. “We don’t even have a bed for the guest room.”
“Chill out, drama queen.” Jared gave her hand a firm squeeze as he fought the urge to laugh. Harper very rarely appeared flustered. She was a strong and confident woman, which was one of the things that first drew him to her ... other than her looks, of course, but he didn’t want to be shallow and focus on that. She was positively apoplectic now. “My mother is one of the easiest people in the world to get along with. I’ve told her all about you. She’s already as in love as I am.”
Harper nodded absently. “Right. We’re going to need sheets ... and towels for the guest bathroom ... and I’m sure we’re going to need fifty other things.”
“Don’t worry about that, Harp,” Zander admonished as he unwrapped his sub. “We can fix that together. We have plenty of time. We need to focus on Thanksgiving before we worry about Christmas. Both of your parents are coming for dinner, right?”
Harper crashed back to the here and now. “Yes.” Her dislike of the conversational shift was obvious. “My mother claims she’s bringing a date, which means my father will probably bring a date, too.”
Shawn’s forehead wrinkled. “I thought they were divorced.”
“It’s a never-ending process,” Zander explained. “They spent more than twenty years fighting to the point where Harper dreaded they would get a divorce only to wait until she was an adult to spring it on her. The divorce has been ongoing for years, though. They’re fighting over every little thing in the property dispute ... including those black tulip bulbs your mother picked up from the Netherlands, right?”
Harper nodded, her face going slack. “Yes. There’s an odd number of bulbs somehow, even though they both swear up and down there were twelve when they bought them. They’re both convinced that someone stole the missing bulb.”
“Don’t animals eat those things?” Jared asked, taking the time to unwrap Harper’s sub for her to make sure she ate.
“That’s what I said, but they’re convinced it was stolen and now they’re going to mediation over the bulb. They’re never going to get divorced at this rate.”
“Maybe that’s the point,” Shawn suggested, taking everyone by surprise. “Maybe they don’t really want to get divorced so they’re putting on a big show to drag things out.”
“That would be nice, but I don’t think so,” Harper said. “They’re far too interested in making each other miserable than harboring feelings of love for one another. They’re just ... weird people.”
“I think they’re fun,” Zander countered. “Dinner will be fine. Your parents will serve as the entertainment.”
Harper wasn’t happy at the prospect. “Maybe we should lock them out of the house or something.”
“We’ll save that as a last resort.” Zander was all business as he turned back to the cookbook. “By the way, Jared, you’re not allergic to anything, are you? I talked to Uncle Mel this afternoon, and he reminded me that he’s allergic to sage. I want to make sure I don’t accidentally kill anyone.”
“I don’t have any food allergies,” Jared confirmed. “When did you talk to Mel?”
“Um ... I think you guys were at the hospital. That’s what he told me anyway. Why?”
“Because, he didn’t tell me he talked to you,” Jared complained. “If he had, I would’ve known you and Harper were fine and I wouldn’t have worried.”
“You don’t have to worry,” Harper reminded him as she popped a fry into her mouth. “I can take care of myself. I know what I’m doing.”
“Love makes it impossible for me not to worry.” Jared kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m a slave to my feelings for you. I can’t change it, so you’re going to have to live with it.”
“Fair enough.” Harper swallowed her
fry. “Why were you at the hospital, by the way? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“No. There was an accident out on County Line Road, not far from the water. A woman rolled her car and was injured. She seemed fine on the scene, but the paramedics insisted on transporting her to the hospital just to be on the safe side. We had a few follow-up questions after the initial consult, so we talked to her there.”
“Is she okay?”
“She seems fine. A little banged up, but nothing to get worked up about. Mel says that’s a dangerous road. It’s right where Quinn Jackson was killed.” Jared realized his mistake too late to take it back. He hadn’t meant to bring up the man’s death so cavalierly. “I mean ... I’m sorry.”
Harper’s face drained of color before she collected herself. “It’s fine,” she said after a beat. “It was a long time ago.”
“What was a long time ago?” Shawn asked, curious.
“Harper’s former boyfriend died on that road,” Zander replied, his gaze heavy and his voice low. “They never found his body, just his vehicle. It was a bad accident. It was assumed he wandered into the woods and succumbed to his injuries, although we can’t be sure.”
“That’s awful.” Shawn looked to Jared, sympathy positively rolling off him. “I can’t imagine dealing with something like that. Is there no way to search the woods?”
Jared cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “It’s been a long time, years. Mel told me that dogs were sent into the woods, but they never found a trace of him. It’s unusual but not unheard of. At this point in time, well, finding him would be a fluke. There wouldn’t be much left of his body.”
“Oh.” Realization dawned on Shawn. “That’s ... awful.”
“It is,” Harper agreed, abandoning her sub on the table and standing. “It was a tragedy. I looked for his ghost but never found it. I’ll always be sorry that I couldn’t lay him to rest.”
“Where are you going?” Jared asked gently. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not really. I think I’m going to take a bath.” Harper averted her eyes. “You guys can split my sub between you.”
Ghostly Despair (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 10) Page 2
