Ghostly Visions: A Harper Harlow Mystery Books 10-12

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Ghostly Visions: A Harper Harlow Mystery Books 10-12 Page 3

by Lily Harper Hart


  “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.”

  Jared opened his mouth to argue, but Zander gave him an almost imperceptible shake of his head, forcing him to change course. “Okay. I’ll stay out here and finish my dinner. You should relax for as long as you want in the tub.”

  Harper forced a smile that didn’t make it all the way to her eyes. “That’s the plan.”

  Jared waited until Harper disappeared into the bedroom to speak again. “What was that?”

  “Don’t get worked up about it,” Zander supplied. “She never wants to talk about him. I told you before, it’s not because he was the love of her life. It’s the guilt she feels because he wasn’t that fuels her.”

  “I think it’s more than that,” Jared persisted. “She was clearly upset when I mentioned another accident happening in the same spot.”

  “She was upset because she thinks she failed Quinn,” Zander countered. “You have to understand, she pictures him out there wandering around the woods looking for someone to help him cross over.”

  “Is that a possibility?” Shawn queried.

  Zander shrugged. “I guess, in theory, it could be like that. It’s far more likely that Quinn slipped away and his soul passed over on its own. Remember, ghosts are the exception. Not everyone comes back as a ghost.”

  “Why would she assume that Quinn is a ghost?” Shawn asked.

  “Because, in the hours after the accident, she wanted to be proactive,” Jared said. “She originally thought he was out there suffering, right? The medical examiner said there was too much blood at the scene for anybody to survive. She imagined a terrible death, and finding his ghost is the only way to alleviate the weight she feels pressing her down where his death is concerned.”

  “That’s basically it in a nutshell,” Zander agreed. “Harper cared about Quinn. She’s too good of a person to ever date someone without feeling something. She didn’t love him, though. I think, especially now that she knows what real love is, she feels guilty. Quinn only stayed in the area because of her.”

  “Oh, so she thinks that if she let him go, he would probably still be alive,” Shawn surmised. “She can’t take that on herself. It’s not her fault. It was an accident.”

  “Tell her that,” Jared said ruefully. “She can’t completely let it go. I shouldn’t have brought up the accident.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Zander promised. “A good night’s sleep will make everything better.”

  Jared could only hope that was true.

  Three

  Harper woke with a smile, which allowed some of the worry squeezing Jared’s heart to ease. He cuddled her close the moment her eyes popped open and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “How did you sleep?”

  “I slept fine. How did you sleep?”

  In truth, Jared’s slumber had been more restless. He woke at least five times, checking on Harper to make sure she wasn’t awake and fretting each time he shifted. “Good. I could hear the wind outside, though. I think it’s going to be another cold day.”

  “You should get used to that.”

  “I miss hammocking.”

  Harper broke out into a wide grin. Before this past summer, Jared had never been in a hammock. Once introduced to the joys of a lazy day by the water, book in hand, he was almost impossible to drag from the hammock.

  “May will eventually wind its way around. Until then, we can go snowshoeing and skiing.”

  Jared made a face. “That doesn’t sound nearly as much fun as laying around with you in nothing but a skimpy bathing suit. You’re going to be buried in snow pants and coats for winter events.”

  “True, but just think how much fun it will be to shed the winter clothes and snuggle together under a blanket by the fire.”

  “Good point.” Jared gave her another kiss before stretching, his eyes drifting to the window. “We should start taking loads of clothes to the house. In fact, I’ve been packing stuff at my rental and I’m almost completely done. I want to get out of there so Jeff can take over the space.”

  “How many loads do you think you have?”

  “Only two. None of the furniture there is mine.”

  “Well, then let’s pick a day over the weekend to drive out there,” Harper suggested. “Between your truck and my car, we should be able to handle everything. I’m sure we can con Zander and Shawn into helping us carry the boxes, too.”

  Jared cocked a dubious eyebrow. “Zander?”

  Harper shrugged. “Well, Shawn at least. He’ll probably be able to guilt Zander into helping. If that doesn’t work, we’ll gush about how strong Shawn is and Zander won’t be able to stop himself from competing.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” Jared lazily trailed his finger up and down Harper’s spine. He wanted to question her about her reaction the previous evening, but he was convinced it was a poor idea. Still, he couldn’t shake the inclination. “About last night ... .”

  “What about it?”

  “I’m sorry if I said something to make you uncomfortable.” Jared ran his hand down the back of Harper’s hair to smooth it. She wasn’t a fan of her bedhead, but he couldn’t get enough of it. She looked adorable upon waking. Of course, Jared thought pretty much everything she did was adorable. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Harper rubbed between her eyebrows as she regarded him. “I know. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. It’s just ... I don’t like thinking about it. It makes me sick to my stomach.”

  “Heart, I get that. I wish you would talk to me, though.”

  “I don’t know what there is to say.” Harper propped herself on an elbow and pressed her hand to his chiseled chest. “He’s gone. He’s been gone a long time. He was gone long before you entered my life. I don’t want you worrying about him.”

  “I’m not worried about him,” Jared clarified. “I’m worried about what you feel for him. Wait, that came out wrong. It makes me sound jealous. I don’t feel jealous.” That was mostly true. In his darkest moments, something he would never admit to anyone, he occasionally felt a twinge of jealousy regarding Quinn.

  It would’ve been better, he theorized, if Quinn hadn’t died and he could’ve made a clean break with Harper. The death notwithstanding, which obviously weighed on her heavily, it was the guilt that fueled her most. She blam
ed herself for much of what happened, and Jared couldn’t help but wonder if that would be different had the relationship been allowed to come to its natural end.

  “I know you’re not jealous.” Harper’s smile was easy and heartfelt. “Just for the record, though, you have nothing to feel jealous about. I love you ... completely.”

  “I love you, too.” Jared cupped the back of her head. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

  “I think I do. I feel the same way about you.”

  “Still, I shouldn’t have brought up Quinn’s death,” Jared persisted. “I didn’t realize it would upset you the way it did. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.”

  “I’m still sorry.”

  A smile, unbidden, curved Harper’s lips. “You’re even cute when you’re apologizing for no reason.”

  “I have a way about me,” Jared agreed.

  “I wasn’t upset because you brought up Quinn,” Harper clarified. “I simply don’t like to talk about it because it gives me nightmares.”

  “It does?”

  “I dream about what it must have been like for him; to be hurt, dying, and trying to find help. In my dreams, I can feel the blood pouring out of me as I struggle to stay on my feet. It used to be that I was searching for Zander in my dreams, because I needed help and he always wants to help. Don’t tell him, but that shifted to you several months back.

  “I’m always looking for you, bleeding out, and I know I’m going to die,” she continued. “I’m desperate to find you so I can tell you I love you one last time, be with you when I go instead of alone. I think that’s what bothers me most, that he was alone.”

  “Oh, Heart.” Jared dragged her onto his chest and tightened his arms around her back as he pressed his cheek to her forehead. “I think that dying alone could be one of the worst possible things. Although, dying in your sleep sounds like the easiest. If you know you’re dying, though, being alone has to be the most terrifying thing imaginable.”

  “Yeah.”

  “The thing is, and I don’t know a lot about the case because obviously I wasn’t here, but if Quinn was severely injured he was probably dazed and numb,” Jared offered. “Most likely, he didn’t know what was happening. It would’ve been like going to sleep.”

  “I hope that’s true. The idea of him suffering makes me feel sick.”

  “I know. You have a good heart.” Jared took them both by surprise when he switched positions and rolled so Harper was under him, causing her to giggle. “Now, I was thinking, perhaps we can go overboard on togetherness to make both of us feel better about these deep thoughts neither of us wants to dwell on before breakfast. How does that sound?”

  “Like the best offer I’ve had all day.”

  “That’s what I was going for.”

  JARED NEVER GOT TO eat breakfast with his makeshift family. A phone call from Mel — one telling him that Vicky Thompson had a setback — forced him to drag on clothes and leave the house with wet hair.

  He met his partner at the hospital lobby and asked the obvious question rather than utter a friendly greeting.

  “What happened?”

  Mel held his hands palms out and shrugged. “I just got here myself. Daniel Steele — don’t make romance books jokes, whatever you do — called first thing this morning and insisted I get out here. He said he needed to talk about Vicky Thompson. I assumed there was something wrong — like maybe she remembered something — but all he would tell me was that she died in the night.”

  All the oxygen whooshed out of Jared’s lungs. “What? She died? But ... how? I mean, she was a little banged up after the accident and emotionally worked up, but she didn’t suffer any life-threatening injuries.”

  “You know as much as I do,” Mel said. “We’re supposed to meet Daniel in his office.” Mel led the way to the secretary station at the center of the lobby. “We’re here to see Daniel Steele. He’s expecting us.”

  “Certainly, sir.” The nurse, whose name tag read “Kimberly,” gave Jared a shy smile as she pressed a button on her phone. “Are you here together?”

  “We’re not a couple or anything, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mel said dryly. “We’re both going to the same meeting, though.”

  Jared pursed his lips at his partner’s dark expression. “What?”

  “You have a strange effect on women. They all go weak at the knees and giggly whenever you’re around. It’s annoying.”

  “I have the same effect on certain men, too,” Jared offered, smirking. “Just ask your nephew.”

  “Oh, please.” Mel rolled his eyes. “You’re not Zander’s type. He would’ve dumped you right away because of the over-sized nipples thing. You wouldn’t have made it to a second date with my nephew.”

  Jared widened his eyes to comical proportions. “I don’t have oversized nipples.”

  “That’s not what Zander says.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s a freak.”

  “You’re just figuring that out?” Mel inclined his chin when a man appeared at the security door and motioned for them to enter the isolated clerical wing of the hospital. Jared fell into step with his partner and allowed Mel to do the talking since he clearly knew the man in charge. “Daniel, this is my partner, Jared Monroe. Jared, this is Daniel. He’s the hospital chief.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Jared offered.

  “You, too.” Daniel led the two men to his office, firmly shutting the door before taking a seat behind the rich mahogany desk arranged at the center of the room. “You’re the man dating Harper Harlow, correct?”

  Jared nodded, immediately on edge. “I am. We’re moving in together.”

  “She’s a nice girl. I golf with her father. He’s a bit of a crazy man. Harper is lucky to be sane given how Phil acts.”

  “Her mother isn’t much better,” Mel noted. “Harper is an absolute joy, though. She always has been.”

  Jared narrowed his eyes. “You call her a pain all the time.”

  “She is a pain, at least from my perspective,” Mel countered. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love her. I’ve known her longer than you.”

  “Whatever.” Jared pushed whatever argument he planned to engage Mel in out of his mind, at least until after they were finished at the hospital. “So, Vicky Thompson died? Do you have any idea how?”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about.” Steele steepled his fingers and rested his elbows on the desk. “Ms. Thompson was brought in after a rollover accident on County Line Road.”

  “We know, Daniel,” Mel said dryly. “We were there.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just ... this whole thing has taken me by surprise.” He mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. “Her initial injuries were mild. She had a bruised rib, several bumps and contusions, and she seemed mildly confused. We thought she might have a concussion, so we ran a few scans, but they came up empty.”

  “Did you release her?” Mel asked.

  Steele shook his head. “Just to be on the safe side, we decided to keep her for observation. I pulled her file myself. She was resting comfortably and watching television. She didn’t have any visitors, although she placed a call on her cell phone. That’s it.”

  “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this,” Mel hedged, confused. “Is there something you’re leaving out?”

  “At some point in the night, she coded,” Steele volunteered. “Our crash team went in, treated her, but couldn’t bring her back.”

  “That means you need to conduct an autopsy, right?” Jared queried.

  “That’s ongoing right now, but I don’t think it will be necessary,” Steele said. “While in the room, one of the nurses noticed a slight discoloration in the IV bag next to Ms. Thompson’s bed. It was blue when it should’ve been clear.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means someone injected something into the bag,” Steele replied. “We’re not sure what, but the substance looks to be caustic. We�
�re running tests, but whatever it was, Ms. Thompson succumbed relatively quickly.”

  “Wait.” Mel shifted on his chair, confused. “Are you saying that she was poisoned?”

  “Until we have the test results back, I can’t say that with complete certainty,” Steele cautioned. “If I were a betting man, though, I would wager on cyanide to be the answer when we get the report back.”

  Jared was dumbfounded. “Cyanide. But ... how?”

  “We don’t know. No one registered to see her, and as far as we know, she didn’t receive visitors. Ms. Thompson was alone in her room for the duration of the evening, at least as far as we can tell.”

  Jared’s busy brain kicked into overdrive. “Could someone have injected the poison into the IV bag? I mean ... like a nurse or something.”

  “I guess that’s a possibility, but why?” Steele challenged. “What would the motive be?”

  “Maybe you have one of those angel-of-death nurses, or a doctor, on your staff,” Mel suggested.

  “I believe an angel of death believes he or she — and it’s often a she — is helping those in pain,” Steele explained. “Killing them is an act of mercy, whether real or imagined. Ms. Thompson wasn’t in any pain. Sure, she was keyed up from the accident, but her injuries were minor. She should’ve made a full recovery. She certainly wasn’t uncomfortable due to pain.”

  “So there has to be a reason to kill her,” Jared mused, rubbing his chin. “Maybe the rollover wasn’t really an accident.”

  “She said she lost control of her vehicle,” Mel argued. “She said she overcorrected because she saw a deer and that caused the car to roll over. I’ve seen it before in that area, and deer are prevalent.”

  “For the record, I talked to the duty nurse assigned to Ms. Thompson’s floor,” Steele said. “She said she didn’t spend a lot of time talking to her, but the deer story was repeated multiple times. Ms. Thompson was apparently very upset because she totaled her car.”

 

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