Ghostly Endeavor (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 19)
Page 20
“I never had a chance,” Cassie mused.
“Probably not,” Harper agreed, and that hurt to admit. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to stay here, though.”
“I’m always here. I can’t get out. This place ... it’s swallowing me whole. It will never stop.”
Harper knew better than that. “No. I’m going to give you the gift that your mother couldn’t. I’m going to release you.” With that, she dropped the dreamcatcher on the ground directly next to Cassie and stomped her foot to ignite it.
The dreamcatcher flared to life in fantastic fashion, brighter than it had ever been before, the other world visible on the other side.
Jared gasped. “Is that ... ?”
Later, Harper would wonder why he could see it. For now, though, she knew what she had to do.
“Find your peace, Cassie,” she said as the ghost was swallowed into the opening. “Don’t ever think of this place again.”
When the dreamcatcher flared out, Cassie was gone. All that was left was a broken woman, a man who could never be fixed, and three individuals with bruised hearts.
It didn’t feel like a happy ending. It was as close as Cassie would ever get though, so it had to be enough.
Even if it didn’t feel like it was.
19
Nineteen
“Harper.” Jared was tentative as he moved closer to her, unsure what he was supposed to do. Ultimately, he simply wrapped his arms around her and held tight.
Mel was calm as he moved to Mary, handcuffs in hand. Now that Cassie was gone, the color had returned to his cheeks.
“What are you doing?” Mary jumped when Mel took her wrist to slip the cuff on.
“Taking you into custody,” Mel replied calmly.
“What for?”
“Because you killed your daughter.”
“But ... .” Mary’s face was momentarily blank and then she recovered. “Who will make John’s dinner if I’m in jail?”
“Yeah, who?” John echoed.
Jared pressed a solid kiss to Harper’s forehead before turning away from her and facing off with the man in question. “I guess you’ll be making your own dinner.”
“But ... I don’t know how.”
“I hear canned soup is amazing.” Jared shook his head and moved to Mel’s side. His expression was hard to read as Mary was put into cuffs, her rights read.
“It really was an accident,” Mary insisted when Mel had quit talking. “You have to understand ... I needed her to be quiet and come home. It wasn’t too much to ask.”
“It was,” Jared countered. He felt sick to his stomach over the turn of events. “It was way too much to ask. The fact that you can’t see that—” He broke off and started shaking his head. “I don’t even know what to say to you.”
“I do.” Harper fixed Mary with a dark look. “Somewhere in there, you have to know the difference between right and wrong. When you’re in prison, months from now, thinking about what you’ve done ... it’s going to hit you.
“There is no forgiveness to be found,” she continued. “There is no respite in accepting what you’ve done because there’s nobody to forgive you. Cassie is gone. She’s ... beyond your reach now. You’ll never see her again.”
Mary managed a half smile that turned Harper’s blood cold. “But ... she’s in Heaven, right? I’ll see her again. She’ll have to forgive me by the time I get to her.”
“No, she won’t.” Harper had no idea if she was speaking the truth, but she was determined for Mary to suffer as Cassie had suffered. Sure, the woman had already suffered, but she made things so much worse than she had to. “You won’t end up in the same place she will.”
“But ... why?”
“Because you murdered your own daughter.”
“No, I just wanted her to be quiet. She was the one in the wrong. All she had to do was come home and help me get a few minutes peace. It wasn’t too much to ask.”
She kept saying it over and over. She would keep saying it over and over, Harper realized. Mary was so incredibly broken there was no putting her back together.
“I just can’t.” Harper turned away from the woman and stared at the lone framed photo on the wall. It featured John, Mary, and a young Cassie. All stared blankly at the camera, posing in front of the house. There were no other photos. It was as if somebody realized it was weird not to have family photos and checked a box by snapping one.
“Harper ... .” Jared rested his hand on her back, uncertain.
“I’m okay,” she reassured him, flashing a smile she didn’t really feel. “You have to deal with this. I’ll get out of your hair.”
Jared worked his jaw as she turned to leave. “You’re not in my hair,” he said before she could go. “I just don’t think it’s good for you to be here right now. Go outside, find Zander, get some air.”
“I think I’m going to go home.” All Harper wanted now was space to decompress. “I’ll see you there later.”
Jared hesitated and then nodded. “You most definitely will. I’ll bring dinner home.”
“Sounds good.”
“Whatever you want.”
“You pick.” She made herself smile even though it was the furthest thing from her mind. “I’ll eat whatever you bring.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Jared was insistent. “Just ... I have to deal with this first.”
“Of course you do. I did my part. Now it’s time for you to do yours.”
JARED CALLED ZANDER AT LEAST TEN TIMES once Harper left for home. Zander always responded in the same way. Harper was in her house and didn’t want anyone hanging around. Zander visited multiple times to check on her, delivering sweets and iced tea, but Harper’s response was always the same.
She wanted to be alone and think.
Neither man was happy with that response.
Jared loaded up in town. He picked up pizza, wings, breadsticks, and a giant cookie from the pizza shop. He picked up her favorite Chinese takeout with extra egg rolls as well. Then he stopped by the bakery and bought a huge cake. His arms were laden down with food when he walked into the house.
Harper, who was on the couch in her pajamas and flipping through channels on the television, looked up in surprise. “What the ... ?” She automatically got up to help him.
“Sit down,” Jared ordered. “I’ll deliver dinner to you, whatever you want.” He dropped the items he was carrying on the counter. “In fact, if you don’t want what I’ve bought, I’ll order more. Just tell me what you need.”
She stared at him a minute, her face blank, and then blew out a sigh. “How many times have you been on the phone with Zander today?” she asked after a beat.
Jared was suddenly the picture of innocence. “What makes you think I was on the phone with Zander?”
“Because he was over here ten times and was rather insistent. If you weren’t ordering him around, he would’ve given up after five times.”
Jared wasn’t going to fall for that. “No, he wouldn’t have given up after five times. That’s not who he is.”
Harper worked her jaw and then grinned. “I guess he might not have given up after five times,” she hedged. “I know you called him, though.”
“How?”
“Because I know you.”
He thought about lying. It wasn’t their way, though. Ultimately, he raised his hands and shrugged. “I love my wife more than anything. If she’s upset, I’m upset. When I can’t be with her, it’s nice to have a pushy best friend who just so happens to live across the road. I’m not going to apologize for using that to my advantage.”
Harper let loose a sigh, resigned. “I guess I can’t blame you there.” She leaned into him, breathing in his scent and smiling when his arms came around her, and held tight. “I love you, Jared.”
“I love you more than anything,” he whispered as he rubbed his cheek against hers. “I don’t know what to do for you, though, and it’s making me feel helpless.”
&n
bsp; “You don’t have to do anything for me.”
“But ... I do. You’re sad. I don’t like you sad.”
“I’m not sad,” she countered.
He pulled back far enough to fix her with a “yeah, right” look.
“I’m not falling apart,” Harper clarified. “I’ve just been thinking all afternoon.”
“About what?”
“About all of it.” Harper held out her hands. “I don’t know what to say about it, what you want to hear. Everything about it sucks. It’s all a tragedy.”
“It is a tragedy,” he readily agreed. “It’s so freaking tragic it makes me want to cry.”
“I had a long bath and cried in there. I’m good. Now.”
He tapped her chin to get her to look up at him. “I don’t believe you. You’re not done crying over this.”
“I’m as done as I’m going to get,” Harper replied. “There’s no fixing this situation, Jared. Cassie got the happiest ending she was ever going to get. She got away. That’s all she ever wanted.”
“And you gave her that gift.” He tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I didn’t give her that gift,” Harper countered. “She was always meant to be there. Fate kept her here for a little bit. I simply opened a door. She walked through it. She’s where she’s supposed to be now ... away from her parents.”
“You’re still sad.”
“How can you look at Mary and not be sad? She’s a victim in all of this and yet she’s also the perpetrator. She shows no remorse. It’s as if she can’t understand.”
“Yeah, I’m willing to bet she gets put in a hospital and not prison,” Jared said, moving his hand over the back of Harper’s hair as he swayed back and forth. “She won’t ever get out, but she needs mental help. Eventually, she might understand what she’s done.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
He was quiet a beat. “You really don’t like her, do you?”
“Not even a little. I want to feel sorry for her, but what she did in that cemetery — my cemetery — will always haunt me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She rested her head against his chest. “I’m haunted by more than one thing. That doesn’t mean I’m not happy ... with you.” She tilted up her chin for a kiss, which he gratefully obliged her on. “You don’t have to worry about me,” she added on a whisper.
“Well, I do worry about you. That’s never going to change. For tonight, though, what do you say we make ourselves sick on Chinese and pizza and then go to bed early?”
“I think that sounds fun, although ... .” Harper focused on the bakery box. “What’s in there?”
Jared’s lips curved. “You have to wait until after you eat your dinner to find out.”
“Oh, that’s not fair. Give me a hint.”
He couldn’t deny her, especially tonight. “There might be salted caramel cheesecake in there.”
She perked up. “Seriously? You call that cake a heart attack on a plate.”
“I stand by that ... but it’s okay to indulge occasionally. I think we both need to indulge in food and each other tonight.”
“What about tomorrow?”
He tilted his head and scratched his chin, debating. “Tomorrow we’ll play it by ear. I’m thinking that we both might be sick or something and have to spend the day in bed.”
Harper’s grin was impish, her eyes light. “You can’t call in sick so soon after the honeymoon.”
“I can do anything as long as I have you.”
“Yeah, but ... .”
“We could spend the day in the hammock. The weather is supposed to be great.”
He didn’t have to say another word.
“Sold ... as long as we can eat the cheesecake in the hammock.”
“Something tells me that can be arranged.”
She threw her arms around his neck for one more hug. “Even though we’ll never understand, we’ll get through this,” she promised. “We’re not the Merriweather family. We’ll be able to move on from this.”
“I’m counting on that.”
“Good. All I want is for you to be happy.”
“As long as I have you, I’ll be forever happy.”
His heart filled with love. “Right back at you,” he whispered.
Her grin was wide. “So ... cheesecake or pizza first?”
“I was thinking we would put it all out on the table and eat it at the same time.”
“Oh, and they say you’re not a genius.”
He frowned. “Who said that?”
Harper was suddenly oblivious. “I’ll get the forks and plates.”
“I’m going to kill Zander,” Jared groused, having no doubt who said he wasn’t a genius. “I’m adding that to the to-do list for our sick day tomorrow.”
“Well, then there will be fun to have all around.”
“Now and forever,” Jared agreed. “He doesn’t get any of my cheesecake. I’m warning you now.”
“That sounds like a good punishment.”
“I thought so. It’s just the beginning, though. There will be more.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
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About the Author
Amanda M. Lee and Lily Harper Hart
I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my novels. I have a particular brand of humor that isn’t for everyone – and I know that.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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