Ghostly Visions: A Harper Harlow Mystery Books 10-12

by Lily Harper Hart

  “I guess.” Jared rubbed his cheek. “I don’t like it when she’s mad at me.”

  Mel chuckled. “Oh, son, you’ll learn to relish fights like this. Once you’ve been married as long as me the quiet is something to welcome ... and the making up is worth a few hours of unhappiness. Trust me. You guys are going to be fine.”

  Jared fervently hoped that was true.

  “WHERE ARE WE GOING?”

  Zander made a face when Harper parked on a nondescript residential street, killed the engine of her car, and immediately exited the warm vehicle and started moving toward a house.

  “Hey!” He was offended when she didn’t immediately answer and smacked his hands on top of the car to get her attention before she could disappear. She’d been a real pill since they left the police station twenty minutes before — morose, pouty, and furious — and he was at his limit with her silence. “Where are we going?”

  Harper paused and regarded her best friend as he pinned her with a plaintive look. “This is Carl Gibbons’s house,” she said finally.

  “Oh.” Zander pursed his lips. “Obviously you’re looking for his ghost.”

  “He’s the only one who can officially clear my mother right now.”

  “Not in the eyes of the law ... and Uncle Mel. Only you can see him. I mean ... .” Zander trailed off, understanding blooming. “Oh, geez. You’re starting to wonder if your mother is truly capable of killing someone, aren’t you?”

  Harper was horrified by the question. “Of course not.”

  Zander waited for her to continue.

  “I don’t think my mother is a murderer,” she said, trying again. “That’s not who she is. She doesn’t like dirt and grime. There’s no way she’s going to stab someone.”

  Zander felt unbelievably sad for his best friend. “You’re upset because you think she’s capable of murdering someone. I agree about the dirt thing. She’s unlikely to want to cause a mess. She’s the type of person who could compartmentalize a murder and not even feel guilty about it, though. I happen to agree with you on that front.”

  “She’s my mother.” Harper was plaintive. “I’m not supposed to wonder if she’s capable of killing another human being. In my heart, I’m supposed to somehow know that she would never do anything of the sort.”

  Zander blew out a long-suffering sigh. “That’s fairy tale talk, Harp. We live in the real world ... at least most of the time. Your mother is capable of killing someone. We’re capable of killing people, too, if it comes to it.

  “No, we’re not capable of murdering someone for no good reason, but we would kill to protect one another,” he continued. “I have no doubt about that ... and neither do you.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Maybe. It’s not all that different when you really think about it, though. Your mother could kill under the right circumstances. They’re simply not the same circumstances we could kill under. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

  “It feels like a bad thing to me.”

  “Yes, well, you’re going through a crisis.” Zander peeled himself away from the car and joined his best friend in the middle of the road. He was rueful as he slung an arm over her shoulders. “We’re going to get through this.” He was calm. “You need to vent, and I get that, but this isn’t Jared’s fault.” He took himself by surprise when he said the words. It wasn’t often that he felt the need to take up for the police detective who changed his world ... and potentially in a detrimental way. “He feels really bad.”

  Harper narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “Since when are you on Jared’s side? I thought you hated him because he stole me from you.”

  “No one can ever steal you from me.” Zander was firm. “I’m the king of all men and you can’t bear for me not to be in your life.”

  “That’s true.” Harper rubbed her nose. “Seriously, though, why are you taking his side?”

  “Because he’s upset ... and he loves you ... and he’s doing the best that he can.” Zander opted for sincerity. “He’s the love of your life. He’s hurting. You’re hurting. You need to come to a place where you can hurt together ... and move on together.”

  “I thought you were leaning toward the idea of me moving out of the new house and in with you and Shawn,” she challenged. “This could be the best way for you to get what you want.”

  “No, it couldn’t.” He shook his head. “You love Jared beyond reason. He loves you, too. This ... this is just a temporary setback. We’ll clear your mother and then everything will be back the way it should be.”

  “And what if it’s not?”

  “I don’t let ridiculous ‘what if’ scenarios take up residence in my brain.”

  “That’s probably why people insist you live in La-La Land.”

  “If you think I’m going to take that as an insult, you’re wrong. I’m fine with living in La-La Land.”

  Harper heaved out a dramatic sigh. “I just ... hate this.”

  “He hates it, too. He’s terrified he’s doing you real harm, though. I saw it on his face when he was in the interrogation room with you. He’s afraid, Harper, and that’s not fair to him. You need to suck it up and make nice with him.”

  “Fine. I don’t want him suffering. I don’t want to suffer either, though. He wasn’t completely perfect in this entire thing.”

  “He wasn’t,” Zander agreed. “You need to meet in the middle.”

  “Fine. We’ll meet in the middle. Are you happy?”

  Zander chuckled as he kissed her forehead. She honestly was one of his two favorite people in the world and that would never change. “Yes. Let’s see if we can find a ghost, shall we? It would be helpful if we had another suspect to focus on.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  FRAN OFFERED UP A WIDE SMILE when she saw Jared and Mel on her front stoop. Her lips curved down after a few seconds, though, when she realized how unhappy they looked.

  “Should I be afraid?” she asked after a beat.

  “I don’t know.” Mel decided to be straight with her because the woman had been through so much already. “We need to talk to Junior again. Is he here?”

  “He’s in the living room.” Fran wiped off her hands on a towel and ushered the two men into the house. “Are you going to arrest him?”

  “I don’t believe that’s on the table at this time,” Mel replied. “We do have a few questions for him, though.”

  “This way.” Fran’s expression was hard to read as she led the two detectives through the house. “Junior is a good boy. Whatever has upset you ... well ... I’m certain he can explain it.”

  “I truly hope so, ma’am.” Mel meant it. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Fran again after everything she’d been through.

  Junior sat on the couch in the living room, a large folder open in front of him. He arched an eyebrow when he realized who was visiting. “Did something happen?”

  “A few somethings,” Mel said as he sat in the chair across from the couch. “We brought Gloria Harlow in for questioning.”

  “I see.” Junior’s emotions weren’t on display as he waited for Mel to continue. He was shuttered and in control.

  “The neighbor says she heard fighting the day before your father’s body was found,” Mel explained. “It was Gloria and your father. Gloria threw a pillow at him.”

  “I doubt that killed him,” Junior pointed out. “I’ve never heard of a thrown pillow being listed as a cause of death.”

  “That didn’t kill him,” Mel agreed. “It does make us wonder if the fight continued until later in the night, though. Gloria says she left.”

  “And you don’t believe her?”

  “Actually, we believe she left,” Mel replied. “The neighbor said she stormed off. The question is: Did she come back?”

  “Do you have evidence that suggests she came back?”

  Jared made a face. “You’re acting more like Gloria’s lawyer than the deceased man’s son. How come?”

>   “I’m merely trying to figure out what happened to my father, the same as you,” Junior replied simply. “I have trouble believing Gloria killed him. She clearly wasn’t in the relationship for the long haul.”

  “We brought her in for questioning all the same,” Mel noted. “We had no choice.”

  “And what did she say?”

  “That she and Carl were arguing about you.”

  Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it. Junior finally showed an emotion ... and it was surprise. “Me? Why would they be arguing about me?”

  “Well, according to Gloria, she spent some time talking to you at a charity event the night before and Carl wasn’t happy about it,” Mel responded. “Apparently Carl thought you were flirting with her.”

  Junior snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

  “And yet ... .”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Junior said after a beat. “I’m an intern at the circuit courthouse. I was at the charity event because it was frowned upon to skip the event. I did talk to Gloria, but it was only because I felt it rude to ignore her. We only talked for a few minutes.”

  “And your father didn’t act as if his nose was out of joint regarding the interaction?” Jared queried.

  “He didn’t. He seemed fine. I’m not sure why he would think I would want to flirt with Gloria. I mean ... she’s old enough to be my mother.”

  Jared had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting. He could just picture Gloria’s expression if she heard the derisive way Junior phrased the comment. She would melt down. It would be more abhorrent than being accused of murder. He almost wanted to tell her as a form of payback given how things were currently going in his life. He knew that would only make things worse, though.

  “The way Gloria made it sound, your father was the competitive sort,” Mel prodded. “Is it possible he simply wanted to believe you were interested in Gloria because that would mean he bested a younger man?”

  “I guess.” Junior looked legitimately confused. “I don’t know what to tell you. Gloria wasn’t flirting with me. I would tell you if she was. She didn’t even seem all that interested in having a conversation with me. I think she did it because it was expected. I certainly wasn’t flirting with her. I mean ... she’s okay, but she’s not exactly my type.”

  “I can see that.” Mel rubbed his forehead. “I can’t remember if you told us before and I don’t have my notes handy. How many times did you meet Gloria?”

  “Technically I’ve met her three or four times, but I only spent time with her once while she was dating my father.”

  “How have you met her more times?”

  “She’s a regular fixture in lawyer circles. She seems to date a new divorce lawyer every month.”

  “Ah.” Mel made a face as he turned to Jared. “What do you think?”

  “I think that Carl sounds a little nutty,” he answered, thoughtful. “Either Gloria is lying about his reaction or Carl was incorrectly overreacting to things that weren’t really happening.”

  “Which do you think is true?”

  “I don’t know. We need to find out, though.”

  “Definitely, although I don’t even know where to start.”

  Twelve

  Carl was moping around his backyard when Harper and Zander tracked him down. Even though he was an equal partner in GHI, Zander tended to let Harper handle the heavy lifting when it came to ghosts. He focused on the books and being her wingman when a dangerous job came up. Since he couldn’t see ghosts like his best friend could, that seemed like the wisest course of action. That didn’t mean he was going to allow her to hang around in a dead man’s yard with a killer on the loose.

  “You’re back,” Carl noted when he saw Harper. He almost looked relieved. “I’ve come to a conclusion, by the way. I’m dead.”

  Harper worked overtime to maintain a sense of calm as she regarded him. “I believe I told you that yesterday.”

  “I know, but I wasn’t ready to hear it.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I’m interested in hearing your answer regarding ghost sex. If I can’t look forward to that, I might as well curl up in a ball under that bush and never move again.”

  Harper arched an eyebrow and glanced at the dormant lilac bush he gestured toward. “Well, that’s certainly an option,” she said after a beat.

  “What’s an option?” Zander asked, stomping his feet on the snow-packed earth to garner some warmth. “Can’t we force him to join us in the car? I mean ... seriously. This is inhuman.”

  “Carl is upset because of the lack of sex in his future,” Harper volunteered.

  “Well, I can’t really blame him there. I would be upset, too.”

  “He wants to know if ghost sex is a thing,” Harper added.

  “That’s kind of gross. I mean ... well ... is it a thing?” Zander changed his opinion on a dime. “I would kind of like to hear the answer to that.”

  “See!” Carl puffed out his ethereal chest. “It’s not just me. People want to know stuff like this.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Harper pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead to center herself. “I need to know if you’ve given some thought to your death, Carl. It’s important that we figure out who killed you.”

  “I have given it some thought.” Carl was grave. “I know exactly who killed me.”

  “You do?” Hope welled in Harper’s chest. “Who?”

  “It was a conglomerate of people I beat in the court system.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They want me to pay because they were on the losing end of my magical presence and that’s how I ended up here.”

  Harper blinked several times in rapid succession. “Did you make that up in your head?” she asked finally.

  “No. It’s a real thing.”

  “It is not.”

  “It is, too.”

  “It is not.”

  “It is, too.”

  “It is not!” Harper practically exploded. “A conglomerate of the people you beat in court didn’t join together to kill you. It was a specific person.”

  Carl made a sniffing sound. “There’s no need to be rude. I believe I’ve been through enough without having to put up with your attitude. I’m the one who is dead.”

  “I’m sorry.” Harper held up her hands in defeat. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just ... your neighbor says that my mother was here the night before you died. She says that you and my mother were arguing. Do you remember that?”

  Carl’s expression turned thoughtful as he considered the question. “I don’t know. Who is your mother again?”

  If he wasn’t already dead, Harper would’ve throttled him on the spot. “Gloria Harlow,” she gritted out.

  “Oh, right.” Carl brightened considerably. “You’re much more attractive than your mother. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “What did he say?” Zander asked when Harper’s expression turned murderous. “Did he say anything good? Please tell me he cleared your mother.”

  Harper ignored the questions. “Carl, this is important. Do you remember arguing with my mother?”

  “Vaguely,” he replied after a moment’s contemplation. “I seem to remember having a brief kerfuffle. I don’t believe it was a big deal, though. A pillow might’ve been thrown. She certainly didn’t kill me.”

  Harper was ridiculously relieved to hear him say it even though she already believed the exact same thing. “Great. That’s good.”

  “Although ... she was only going home for a little bit and then she was coming back. I can’t quite seem to remember her coming back. I guess it’s possible she killed me during her return visit. She was the only one I was expecting, after all.”

  Harper frowned. “What? Are you saying she was supposed to come back?”

  “Yes. She had a few errands to run. I was going to pop a Viagra while she was gone so I could wow her.”

  Harper slapped her hand o
ver her eyes, which was a ridiculous gesture because her ears were what were currently being offended. “Oh, my ... I don’t need to hear about your Viagra habits!”

  Zander snorted. “Oh, did he need the little blue pill to romance your mother? That is so ... wait. Ask him how he expects to have ghost sex if he needs Viagra. I very much doubt anyone is manufacturing ghost erection pills.”

  Harper glared at him. “Is that important right now?”

  “They don’t make ghost Viagra?” Carl was beside himself. “That has to be a mistake. Who can I talk to if I want to rectify this situation? It can’t be allowed to continue.”

  Harper suddenly felt weary as she glanced between the whiny ghost and her shivering best friend. For the first time in a long time, she felt helpless. The last time she could remember feeling that way she was walking through a field, looking for the ghost of her dead boyfriend. Sure, that boyfriend turned out to be alive and a criminal, but at the time she didn’t know that.

  Back then, she used to feel helpless quite often. She had no idea what she was going to do with her life or how she was going to move forward. Luckily for her, that was no longer the case.

  “You need to think about what happened to you, Carl,” Harper admonished. “It’s important. You were killed and there’s a murderer on the loose. He or she could strike again. Do you want that?”

  Carl held his hands palms out and shrugged. “I can’t decide why I’m supposed to care. I mean ... I’m already dead. If others die it’s no longer my concern.”

  “You’re all heart, Carl. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “No, and I would smack them if they did. A heart gets you nothing but trouble. I’m a survivor.”

  Harper found his response laughable. “You’re not a survivor. You’re dead.”

  “Well ... you know what I mean.”

  And, because she did, all Harper could do was nod. “Think about the night you died,” she ordered. “Think about what happened after my mother left. Something happened. You were killed. I would think you’re not the sort of man who will just sit back and allow that to happen without consequences. I mean ... don’t you want payback?”