Ghostly Visions: A Harper Harlow Mystery Books 10-12

by Lily Harper Hart

  “You’re definitely weird,” he agreed. “You’re just the right amount of weird, though.” He pursed his lips as he regarded her. “I don’t suppose you’d like to break that streak, would you?”

  She chuckled, obviously amused. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s the middle of the day, after all.”

  “A snowy day.” He jabbed his finger toward the window by way of proof. “I think we should have a serious discussion about this. I don’t want to be predictable.”

  “We’re not predictable.” Harper finished her hot cocoa and left the mug on the dining room table before cutting over to the couch where Jared sat. “I see ghosts for a living,” she reminded him. “You believe me without question and never give me grief about it. How could that ever be construed as predictable?”

  It was a sound argument, but Jared was having none of it. “Why don’t you sit on my lap when you say that?”

  “No way.” Her expression was playful as she darted around his outstretched arms. “We have a million things to do. We’re supposed to be deciding on furniture and other necessities. We have one couch, a really old table my mother found at a garage sale and insisted we borrow from her, and like two pots and pans. We need to get serious about decorating this place.”

  “Oh, I’m serious.” His eyes sparked with interest as she did a little dance. “Let’s take the catalogs into the bedroom and flip through them in there.”

  “If we go in the bedroom ... .”

  “We’ll have a lovely afternoon,” he finished. “You’d better start running now because I’m going to catch you, Heart.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t think we should be inappropriate like this. We should be grown-ups.”

  “Start running.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’m going to catch you.”

  “I believe you’ve already caught me.” She edged toward the hallway. “Are you going to do it twice?”

  “I’m going to do it for the rest of our lives.” He hopped to his feet. “Here I come.”

  AN HOUR LATER, JARED HAD A lazy smile on his face as Harper cuddled next to him in bed. The snow continued to fall outside, creating a cozy atmosphere as he tucked in the blankets around her.

  “So much for your theory regarding afternoon entertainment,” he drawled.

  She giggled as she brushed her hand over his chest. “I haven’t been proven wrong on that point. We’re supposed to be picking furniture. That was the whole point of taking the day off together.”

  “I thought the whole point was that we saw the forecast over the weekend and didn’t want to deal with the snow,” he challenged. “We decided to take personal days ahead of time so we could watch the snow fall from the safety of our new house. We even stocked up on groceries and everything.”

  “That was simply an added benefit.”

  He moved his hands over her back, taking a moment to enjoy the way her body fit against his. “We should look at furniture, though.” He blindly felt along the small table he was using as a nightstand and came back with a Pier One catalog. “Oh, look what I found.”

  Harper laughed as she rolled to his side, remaining comfortable in the crook of his arm as he opened the catalog. “That’s convenient.”

  “It is,” he agreed, his hand automatically smoothing her mussed hair. “We have a lot of decisions to make, Heart. It’s time to get serious.” He used his most authoritative voice. “We have like five pieces of furniture and the only comfortable piece is the couch I brought ... and you hate the pattern.”

  She balked. “I don’t hate the pattern,” she countered. “It’s just ... okay, I hate the pattern. I simply don’t like red plaid. It’s weird.”

  “So, we’ll pick out a new couch.”

  He said it in such an easy manner that Harper felt odd arguing with him. Still, she knew it was necessary before they disappeared down a rabbit hole and found themselves in financial trouble. “We both spent a decent amount of money on this place,” she noted, choosing her words carefully. “We have some put away, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to spend all of it on furniture.”

  Jared slid her a sidelong look. “What do you mean? You want to keep living like this? The only good pieces of furniture we have are your bed from the other house and the beanbag I brought from my teenage room at home.”

  “And the nightstand.” She gestured toward her side of the bed, to where the matching nightstand rested.

  “And the nightstand,” he agreed. “We need another nightstand, though. I have stuff I like to keep close to the bed. Your dresser also matches the set, but it’s not big enough for two sets of clothes, so we need another dresser.”

  “I got the set at Art Van. We can head over there.”

  Jared pursed his lips. “We will. I just think we should wait until it’s not snowing. Maybe we can do that over the weekend.”

  “You just want to see if you can get in another round of naughty afternoon sex,” she admonished.

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I guess not.” She rested her head on his chest as he flipped through the catalog. “I wasn’t trying to be a pain when I suggested we not spend all our money right away. It’s just ... it makes me nervous to drain my savings account completely. When I first went into the ghost hunting business, I told myself that it would only be an option as long as I didn’t go into debt.

  “My parents screamed up and down about debt during their fights when I was a kid,” she continued. “My father saw nothing wrong with debt and my mother absolutely hated it. She also hated not having nice things ... so she added to the debt as much as him. I mistakenly thought they were fighting only about the debt for a time, so it warped my view a bit.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” He brushed his lips over her forehead as he considered what she was saying. “I don’t see how we can add living room furniture without replacing the couch. It all needs to match.”

  “It definitely needs to match,” she agreed. “That doesn’t mean we need a new couch, though. The couch itself is comfortable. What if we just get a cover for it?”

  “I didn’t even think about that.” His fingers were light as they trailed down her spine. “I don’t see why we can’t do that. Then we can get some comfortable chairs and a table. That table we’re using looks as if it came from the world’s worst garage sale.”

  “It probably did,” Harper said. “My mother picked up a lot of dinnerware – and that table – from friends right before we moved. I’m guessing those friends couldn’t unload the things we were given and that’s how we ended up with them.”

  “That makes me feel better.” He kissed her cheek and turned another page. “I get what you’re saying about not emptying our accounts. The house was a big purchase. My job is regular, though. I’m not in danger of anything bad happening. I can take care of both of us going forward if it’s necessary.”

  Instead of reacting with relief, as he expected, Harper fixed him with a dark look. “Excuse me?”

  Jared sensed he’d stepped into the thick of it but wasn’t sure how he managed it. “Um ... what?”

  Harper’s frustration was palpable. “I’m fully capable of adding to the joint finances.”

  “I didn’t say you weren’t.”

  “You insinuated it.”

  “I most certainly did not,” Jared shot back, refusing to back down. “I know you’re going to add to the finances. I never doubted that for a second. There’s no need to get all worked up about it.”

  “What makes you think I’m worked up?”

  “I’ve met you.”

  Harper’s expression darkened. “I think you’re being a pain in the butt. All I said was that I was capable of adding to the finances. We’re doing this together. That’s what we agreed on when we decided to move in together.”

  “And then we got engaged.” He tapped the engagement ring he’d bought her with the help and guidance of her best friend Zander. “Things are slightly different now that we’re getting
married.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Well ... for starters, you’re going to be my wife.”

  Harper pulled back so she could prop herself on an elbow and stare at him. “And you’re going to be my husband. How does that change anything?”

  “It’s my job to make sure you’re taken care of.” Jared barreled forward, oblivious to the minefield he was about to walk into. “I have to make sure you get everything you need and that’s what I intend to do.”

  Harper narrowed her sea-blue eyes until they were nothing more than glittery slits. “And what’s my job?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If your job is to take care of me — probably because I’m a weak female, right? — then what’s my job?”

  It was only then that Jared realized he’d made a colossal mistake. “Oh, well ... .”

  Harper waited, practically daring him to add to the trouble he was already facing.

  “You’re looking at this the wrong way.” Jared regrouped quickly and squeezed her waist under the covers. “I wasn’t saying that I didn’t think you could help. I know you can help. I want you to help.”

  “You just think you have a greater responsibility to take care of me than I have to take care of you.”

  “No. That’s not what I was saying.” Jared extended a warning finger. He sensed the conversation slipping away from him and that’s the last thing he wanted. “We’re both equals in this relationship. You know I see you that way. Don’t make this a thing.”

  “Oh, I would never make this a thing.” Harper rolled her eyes as her phone dinged on the nightstand. “I think you’ve made this a thing all on your own.”

  Jared couldn’t disagree with her, even though he really wanted to. “Ignore whoever that is … especially if it’s Zander. I thought we decided to spend the day together with no interruptions.”

  “Trust me. An interruption can only do you some good right now.” Harper flopped on her side of the bed and answered the call. She expected to hear Zander on the other end. They used to share the house across the road together, and the proximity of the new house was one of the major selling points when Jared selected it because he knew Harper wouldn’t do well if she was separated from her best friend, and they were still adjusting to not being on top of each other all the time. Instead of her best friend, though, she found her mother waiting with breathy anticipation.

  “Hello, Harper.” She sounded chirpier than usual, something Harper wasn’t sure how to gauge.

  “Hello, Mom.” Harper ignored the face Jared made. Her mother was difficult under the best of circumstances. This was obviously not going to be one of those days. Still, she was glad for a break from the conversation. She sensed it would get out of hand before either of them could rein it in. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, well, you know.” Gloria Harlow was the prim sort. She liked to get the niceties of a conversation out of the way before drilling deep. Harper was used to it so she didn’t think twice when Gloria started to babble. “This snow is something, huh?”

  “Yeah. I’m not a big fan of the snow,” Harper agreed, wiggling away from Jared when he tried walking his fingers over her midriff.

  “You’re not out chasing ghosts in this, are you?” Gloria wasn’t a fan of Harper’s chosen profession. When her only daughter admitted to seeing ghosts as a child, she was convinced Harper was plagued with mental illness. It was only after a few harrowing rescues and other feats that shouldn’t have been possible that Gloria began believing Harper was special. That didn’t make her happy, however. In fact, there were times Harper was convinced her mother would’ve preferred it if she really was suffering from some form of mental malaise because that would’ve given Gloria something to fix.

  As it was now, there was nothing technically wrong with Harper. That didn’t mean Gloria wasn’t regularly searching for a cure.

  “I’m home,” Harper replied, making a face when Jared’s hand started creeping toward her. “Hold on a minute.” She held the phone away from her mouth and glared at her fiancé. “I’m not happy with you right now. Stop doing that.”

  “Not until you forgive me.” Jared tickled her ribs. “I don’t want this to ruin our day.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I can tell from my mother’s tone that she’s about to tell me something that will ruin our day. You’re free and clear from the blame.” Harper returned the phone to her ear. “We’re looking at furniture catalogs.”

  “Oh, that sounds nice.” Gloria was obviously distracted because she didn’t utter one passive aggressive comment when Harper brought up her furniture situation. Gloria had been fretting about the hodgepodge of furniture for weeks. “Do you think you can abandon that for a little bit and visit me?”

  Harper found the question odd given the fact that her mother was a weather alarmist under normal circumstances. “Um ... well ... it’s kind of bad out.”

  “It is,” Gloria agreed. “I still need to see you.”

  “Why?” Harper was instantly suspicious. “Did you do something? If you vandalized Dad’s property again I’m going to tell Mel the truth if he questions me.” Since her parents were mired in the world’s longest — and most bitter — divorce, Harper’s mind actually jumped to what she considered the worst possible scenario. Her mother had been increasingly bold when it came to messing with her father.

  “This has nothing to do with your father.” Gloria was firm. “It has to do with me.”

  “Is something wrong with you?”

  “Well ... .”

  Harper’s heart sank. “Are you sick?”

  Jared, who was in the middle of trying to tickle his fiancée again, stopped playing and turned serious. Harper and her mother weren’t especially close, but the illness of a parent was always a concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Harper shrugged instead of answering. “Mom, you need to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help unless you tell me the truth.”

  “Yes, well ... .” Gloria made a throat-clearing sound on the other end of the phone. “The thing is, I’m at Carl’s house. You remember Carl, right? What am I saying? Of course you do. We’ve been dating for a few weeks now.”

  Carl Gibbons. That was his name and about the only thing Harper remembered about him ... other than he combed his hair in a ridiculous way to cover his bald spot. He was a divorce attorney, which is how her mother met him. She never dated her own divorce attorneys, but she was more than happy to erase a business relationship right from the start so she would be free to see whomever she wanted.

  “I remember him.” As far as Gloria’s dates went, Carl bothered Harper less than most ... although that wasn’t saying much. “Why are you calling if you’re with your friend?”

  “Because he’s dead ... and I’m pretty sure he was murdered.”

  Whatever she was expecting, that wasn’t it. Harper’s heart plummeted. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I need your help.”

  She needed more than help, Harper surmised. She glanced at Jared, who obviously couldn’t hear Gloria’s end of the conversation and was still operating under the assumption that something was wrong with her physically.

  “Give us a few minutes, Mom,” Harper said finally, resigned. “Jared is with me. We’ll be right there.”

  “Oh, thank you so much.”

  “We’re going to need an address.”

  Two

  “I don’t understand.” Jared dutifully climbed into jeans and a T-shirt without complaint, grabbing a comfortable flannel shirt from the closet and shrugging into it as he watched Harper mull over two sweaters. “Why would your mother call us instead of 911 if her boyfriend is dead?”

  Harper shot him a withering look. “I would think that’s rather obvious,” she said. “You’re a cop.”

  “I am,” he agreed. “It’s just ... how does she even know he’s dead? Maybe he’s unconscious and needs an ambulance.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough.” Har
per settled on a black sweater and tugged it over her head, the ends of her hair standing on end thanks to the buildup of static electricity. “Do I look okay?”

  Jared pinned her with a dubious look. “As compared to what?” he challenged. “Your mother isn’t going to critique your outfit at the scene of her boyfriend’s death.”

  Harper wasn’t so sure about that. “You never know.” She finger-combed her hair as she strode through the house and collected her boots at the front door. “Come on. I think she’s freaking out.”

  Jared was directly behind her and didn’t need urging. “I’m right here.” He looked her over with a studied gaze, making his mind up on the spot. “Maybe you should stay here and let me check on her, huh? I promise I’ll call the minute I know something.”

  “Don’t even.” Harper’s cheeks flushed with annoyance. “I know you think I need to be taken care of, but I’m perfectly capable of handling my own mother. That’s not going to change.”

  “And here we go,” Jared muttered. “I don’t want to fight. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Most women would be happy to have a man who stands by them no matter what. I guess you’re not most women, though.”

  “Are you just figuring that out?”

  Harper shot him a look before grabbing her coat from the closet. “Let’s go. I promised her we wouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

  “I’m coming.” His earlier mood a distant memory, Jared slipped into his coat and grabbed his keys from the small console table that rested against the foyer wall. “We’re going to talk about this later, though.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  THE DRIVE TO CARL GIBBONS’S house took ten minutes despite the fact that it was less than a mile away. The roads were atrocious, and even though Jared had four-wheel-drive, he found himself struggling to make it through intersections because the plow trucks hadn’t yet been through the side roads.

  “This is a mess,” he muttered as he navigated a particularly high drift. “I don’t think anyone should be out in this.”

  “My mother needs help.” Harper’s tone was shrill, her knuckles white as she gripped the door handle and stared out the passenger side window. “She wouldn’t have called unless she was desperate. She only calls to nag or when something is really bad.”