Ghostly Wedding (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 17)

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Ghostly Wedding (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 17) Page 5

by Lily Harper Hart


  “I plan to hyphenate my name,” she explained. “Harper Harlow-Monroe. Then I would still have the Harper Harlow part on cards and not lose any ground on the professional front. I mean ... if that’s okay.”

  He smirked. “I think that’s a fun idea. Can I call you Mrs. Monroe?”

  “Only if we’re playing very specific games ... and I can call you Mr. Harlow.”

  “Oh, well, that sounds like a fun game.” The move was lightning quick, and Harper told herself she should’ve seen it coming. He had her on her back, his body on top of hers, within two seconds. “Would you like to give me a preview of this game?”

  “I thought you would never ask, Mr. Harlow.”

  “Bring it on, Mrs. Monroe.”

  With hearts connected in a way that could never be severed, they dissolved into giggles. The real world remained, as well as a mystery to solve, but tonight all they needed was each other.

  4

  Four

  Harper woke in a dream. She knew it the second she saw the hazy landscape. The question was: What sort of dream was she trapped in?

  The first time she saw a ghost it was her grandfather, who had passed away while she slept. He wanted to say goodbye. When she told her parents what happened, they wrote it off as a dream. Even at such a young age, Harper knew that it hadn’t been a dream. That didn’t mean ghostly dreams wouldn’t follow.

  Through the years she’d been plagued by dreams and yet often discarded them. She figured it was her subconscious trying to work things out. She didn’t live a normal life after all. Over the past year and a half, though, her dreams had become something else entirely and Harper was convinced that they were turning into something else.

  That’s why she paid attention now.

  “Hello?” she called out, surveying the landscape. It wasn’t exactly stark as much as muted and depressing. There was something sad about it, although she couldn’t put her name to it. “Hello?”

  Nobody answered, and yet there was a familiar noise to her right. She followed that noise, frowning when she realized she was on a bluff overlooking a lake. It was the sound of water lapping at the shore that had called to her. She didn’t recognize her location, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. This was Michigan. It was surrounded by lakes.

  “Hello?”

  There had to be a reason she was called to this place, she rationalized. And, although she wasn’t a betting person, she would’ve thrown down a healthy chunk of change on odds that it was because of the man she watched die. She was about to call out again when a sound to her left drew her gaze. She wasn’t at all surprised to find the dead man waiting for her.

  He was whole in the dream, the injuries he’d sustained in the accident somehow forgotten. He appeared bewildered as he looked between her and the lake, and sympathy washed over her as she tried to decide how to approach him.

  “Where is this place?” she asked finally, going for the mundane.

  “How should I know?” The man shot her a dirty look. “I have no idea what I’m even doing here.”

  “So, this isn’t your home?”

  “The water? No, I don’t live in the lake. I’m not a mermaid.”

  Now it was Harper’s turn to frown. “I don’t think I deserve the attitude.”

  “Well, what do you expect when you bring me to a place like this against my will?”

  Is that what he really thought? It seemed ridiculous on the face of things and yet Harper understood he was likely confused. He’d been walking across the street, minding his own business, and now he was here. How was he supposed to react?

  “I didn’t bring you here,” she said in a gentle voice, debating the best way to break the bad news to him. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Harper Harlow.”

  He furrowed his brow and took a moment to look her up and down. “And what are you doing hanging out here in the middle of the night alone, Harper Harlow? Better yet, what am I doing here?”

  “I don’t know this place so I can’t answer that.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I believe you brought me here.”

  He made a sputtering noise and shook his head. “I most certainly didn’t bring you here. If you’re about to accuse me of something—”

  Harper held up her hand to still him. “I’m not accusing you of anything, at least not the way you believe. It’s just ... I saw you earlier today. I was in a wedding shop on Main Street in Whisper Cove. I heard a loud noise out the window, looked outside, and saw a car speeding through an intersection.” She was trying to lead him to the truth without having to relate all the horrible details. Saying it was beyond her comfort level.

  “Do you want me to congratulate you or something?”

  “No.”

  “Then why mention a wedding dress? Just for the record, I’m not your type. You’re too ... annoying ... for me.”

  “Hey!” Harper knew better than letting her temper get the better of her and yet she couldn’t help herself. “Trust me. I’m not interested in you ... at all. I have a fiancé, and in a few days he’s going to be my husband. He’s the only person I’m interested in.”

  “Woohoo!” He let loose a sarcastic clap and then went back to staring at the water. “This place feels familiar to me and yet it’s not right.”

  “What’s not right about it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just ... not right.”

  “Okay.” Harper licked her lips and wrestled with her temper. “You were in Whisper Cove today. Do you remember what you were doing there?”

  “I ... don’t know.”

  “Are you familiar with Whisper Cove?”

  “Yes. I’m not an idiot.”

  He might not have been an idiot, but he had an attitude Harper didn’t appreciate. Part of her wanted to strangle him and the other wanted to pat his back and tell him everything would be okay. Neither was an option.

  “You were hit by a car today,” she volunteered. Dragging out the conversation wasn’t going to get either of them anywhere. “You were crossing at an intersection and a woman in a red car struck you.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What do you have to be sorry about?” His attitude was still surly and yet his stance seemed to be softening. “You’re not the woman who hit me, are you?”

  “I just told you I was in a wedding shop when it happened.”

  “Maybe you’re lying.”

  “What’s my motive for lying? For that matter, what’s my motive for hitting you? I don’t even know you.”

  “Maybe you’re one of those irrational women I see on the news, There are stories out there about women getting their periods and losing their minds.”

  Harper folded her arms across her chest. The more this guy talked, the more she disliked him. “Do you believe that?”

  He held her gaze for a beat and then chuckled. “Not really. I kind of wanted to see how you would react, though.”

  “Did I disappoint?”

  “No.” His smile disappeared. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t feel as if I belong here, and yet I can’t leave. I don’t ... understand.”

  “I think you don’t want to understand,” Harper countered. “You were hit by a car today.”

  “You’ve told me that twice now.”

  “And yet you haven’t asked what happened to you after you were struck, if you were transported to the hospital, or maybe sustained a head injury. That says to me that you already know what happened.”

  Slowly, he tracked his eyes to her. “You’re saying I died.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think this is all really weird, and I would like to wake up now.”

  “You’re not asleep. I am, but you’re not.”

  “How do I know you’re even real?” His voice took on an edge. “Maybe I was in an accident. Maybe I really am in the hospital. Maybe you’re a figment of my imagination.”
>
  “Or maybe this is what I do,” Harper shot back. “It is, by the way. This is what I do. I communicate with ghosts. Sometimes I help them cross over. Other times I forcefully remove them from situations. Always I try to listen and serve as a sounding board.”

  “Is that what you’re doing for me now?”

  “I don’t know. Like I said, you called me to this place. I’m actually at home, in bed with my fiancé.”

  “So, this is a dream.”

  “My dream. It’s more for you.”

  “Well, that’s just great.” He worked his jaw and went back to staring at the water. “I don’t want to be dead. I’m not done. I ... can’t be done.”

  “I’m really sorry. You’re most definitely dead, though.”

  “How do you know you’re not dead?”

  “Because I’ve been at this a very long time. I get that you’re frustrated, and I don’t blame you for being angry, but if I’m going to help you I need some information.”

  “You’re going to help me?” He rolled his eyes. “How are you going to help me? You just told me I’m dead. I think that means I’m beyond help.”

  “Nobody is beyond help,” Harper countered. “Just because your earthly body has failed, that doesn’t mean your soul can’t be helped.” She took a tentative step toward him. “There’s more than one world. You can move on to the next with my help.”

  “And what if I don’t want your help?”

  “I don’t think it’s going to matter. My fiancé is a detective with the Whisper Cove Police Department. He’s working your case. Whether you like it or not — or he does, for that matter — I’m in this.”

  “And what do you need from me?”

  “Anything you can give me.”

  “I don’t remember what happened.”

  “Fair enough. Can you tell me what you were doing in Whisper Cove?”

  “I ... don’t know. It’s all very hazy. None of it makes sense. I just keep circling.”

  “That’s not unheard of. Being ripped from your life is often traumatic. Tell me something about yourself, though. Like ... what’s your name?”

  He snorted. “Your fiancé isn’t very good if he hasn’t been able to figure out my name.”

  “You didn’t have a wallet on you, no identification. They’re hoping to get a hit on DNA, or from the news coverage. There’s been nothing yet, though.”

  “Well, great.” He rubbed his forehead. “That’s just great.”

  “You could help us if you give me your name.”

  “Peter Humphrey. I at least know that.”

  Harper had to tamp down her excitement. The name was definitely a good start. “What do you do for a living?”

  Peter raised his chin and stared at the moon, which was perched high above the bluff. It looked unnaturally large, but that was also a result of dreams and ghostly conscious colliding. “I don’t remember it all, and I’m starting to feel funny, as if I won’t be able to stay here much longer.”

  “That’s also normal,” Harper reassured him. “It’s going to take you some time to work out how to adjust to your new reality.”

  “Lovely.”

  “I still need a place to look. The name is great. You have to give me something else, though.”

  “There’s only two words that keep rolling through my head. I feel as if I should know what they mean and yet ... it’s just beyond my grasp. Have you ever known something and then somehow forgot? You get that feeling that if you could just relax, you would remember.”

  “I’m familiar with the feeling.”

  “No matter how hard I try, I can’t remember.”

  “I’m sorry. Tell me the two words.”

  “Montgomery Manor.”

  Harper was taken aback. “Wait ... are you talking about the mansion on the bluff?” Even as the question escaped, she drank in her surroundings again. This time, when she looked at the spot over Peter’s shoulder, she could see lights shining through the fog. They were the sort of lights that would accompany a huge house, all alone in the darkness.

  “I don’t know what it means,” he insisted, his voice becoming faint. He was starting to disappear. “I just know it’s important. It was so, so important.” He looked momentarily lost. “Why can’t I remember why?”

  “I don’t know.” Harper reached out her hand but it passed right through him. “I’ll do some research. We’ll figure it out.”

  “That won’t make me any less dead.”

  “No, but it might give you the strength you need to move on to the next world. I promise I won’t give up looking for answers.”

  Peter was already gone before she finished the sentence.

  JARED WOKE BEFORE HARPER, WHICH was the norm in their house. On weekends, when neither of them had to work, they enjoyed lounging around in bed until noon. They spent entire mornings chatting, laughing about old movies and television shows, talking about what they had planned for the week. There was nothing they loved more than spending time together.

  On weekdays, however, Jared often had to pull a kicking and grousing — sometimes even grunting — Harper into work mode. Today, though, she seemed to sense he was awake and opened her eyes accordingly.

  “Hi.” Her smile was sleepy but genuine. “I love that when I wake up now I know it’s going to be a good day because you’re here.”

  Jared grinned at her. “I love you, too.” He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Can you believe, in a few days, you’re going to be my wife?”

  “I can, Mr. Harlow.”

  He smirked and kissed the tip of her nose. “So cute.”

  “Yes, I’m like a bunny in a suit.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Bunnies are cute. That means bunnies in suits are extra cute.”

  “Oh, well, I’ve never been one to gush over bunnies. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “I guess,” Harper agreed, running her hand over his chest. “I’m a little excited about the wedding, too. I don’t like to admit it to Zander because he keeps reminding me of when I was a kid and kept telling him I was never going to get married, but it’s pretty much all I can think about.”

  “I’m glad, because you’re all I can think about.”

  They lapsed into amiable silence, Jared running his hands over her back as he kissed her forehead and thought about the day he could refer to her as his wife. Harper, however, suddenly remembered the dream from the previous evening.

  “Oh, something happened,” she said, bolting to a sitting position. “I can’t believe I forgot about it.”

  Jared cocked an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know?”

  “I had a dream.”

  “Was I naked?”

  She shot him a rueful smile. “It wasn’t that sort of dream. It was the other kind.”

  All traces of mirth left his features as he regarded her. “Meaning the sort of dream that involves ghosts and dead bodies.”

  “That would be the kind,” Harper agreed. “I talked to him. The dead guy. He was standing on a bluff, overlooking the lake. He didn’t know he was dead.”

  “How do you know it was the real deal and not a normal dream?”

  “Because he gave me a name.”

  Jared rolled to a sitting position. She’d pulled names out of dreams more than once at this point, and they’d always checked out. “What’s the name?”

  “Peter Humphrey.”

  “Did he give you anything else?”

  “No, he was all over the place. He was crabby, said he couldn’t remember what he was doing in Whisper Cove. He didn’t tell me much of anything about himself. He was bitter about being dead.”

  “Do you blame him? As far as I can tell, he was minding his own business when his life was cut short.”

  “I don’t blame him, although we don’t yet know the circumstances that led to him being targeted the way he was.”

  “Don’t we? Someone ran him over in cold blood.”

>   “But why? Maybe he was a bad guy. Maybe he hurt this woman’s mother ... or daughter ... or even her. Maybe she lost her mind when she saw him or something.”

  “I guess that’s possible. We have no proof of it, though. Right now, he’s simply a victim. I don’t want to cast aspersions on him before we have proof.”

  “I don’t either,” Harper conceded. “I mean ... he was kind of rude. He didn’t come across as an altogether bad guy, though. Part of me felt sorry for him.”

  “And the other part?”

  “I was a little annoyed that he was meandering through what little time we had together. It took me forever to convince him he was dead. He thought maybe he was dreaming and I wasn’t a real person.”

  “And you have such a trustworthy face.” Jared smiled as he combed his fingers through her morning-mussed hair. She slept hard, which often meant her hair was standing on end when she woke in the morning.

  “I know. Who wouldn’t trust this face?” Harper circled her finger in front of her nose before turning serious. “He did say one other thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Montgomery Manor.”

  Jared waited for her to expand. When she didn’t, he held out his hands and shrugged. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

  “It’s a house, up the lakeshore a bit. It’s not technically in Whisper Cove.”

  “Is there something special about the house?”

  “Not that I know of. It’s owned by a woman named Lila Montgomery. It’s been in her family for at least three generations, I think. She’s older, keeps to herself. She lost her family a long time ago. She’s really rich and used to throw amazing parties back in the day. That’s the rumor anyway.

  “I read about some of the parties when I was researching property that might be haunted back when Zander and I were first starting up GHI,” she continued. “I was trying to drum up clients by offering my services for free. I thought for sure Montgomery Manor was haunted — it has that look — but I never found anything actionable so I didn’t visit the house.”

 

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