Rowan grinned at them, completely enamored. Quinn recognized the look on her face. She was bonding with Harper and she didn’t even realize it. He sensed trouble, but he couldn’t call her on her attitude until they were in private. Harper obviously didn’t care that people knew about her gift. Rowan was another story.
“You guys are cute,” Rowan announced. “I love how cute you are.”
“I love being cute,” Jared replied, smiling indulgently as Harper poked his side.
“What about your relationship with Zander?” Quinn asked. He wasn’t quite done digging for information. His instincts told him it was unlikely Zander was a murderer, but his instincts had been wrong a time or two. He was nowhere near done asking questions.
“What about my relationship with Zander?” Jared asked, leveling his gaze on Quinn. “There’s nothing funny about our relationship, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Oh, their relationship is hilarious,” Harper countered. “It’s like spending time with The Three Stooges. Jared and Zander spend hours every day smacking each other on the head.”
Quinn snickered at the visual. “I bet. It must be difficult to have another man stealing so much of your fiancée’s attention.”
“I realized a long time ago that Zander was always going to be part of the package with Harper,” Jared explained. “He’s more than her best friend. They’re often joined at the hip. He’s part of our lives and that’s never going to change.”
“Do you all live together?”
“Not any longer.” Jared recognized that Quinn was digging for specific information. Since he didn’t think it could possibly hurt Zander — and perhaps actually help — he opted to play the game. “When I first met them, Harper and Zander lived in this adorable cottage together. It was close to the river and they were co-owners.
“Once Harper and I started dating, the cottage started feeling a little closed in,” he continued. “I knew that Zander would melt down if I moved Harper too far away from him, so when the cottage across the road came up for purchase, I knew exactly what I had to do.”
“Oh, you moved across the street?” Rowan’s eyes sparkled. “That’s a great idea.”
“That seems invasive to me,” Quinn muttered.
“It’s a compromise,” Jared corrected. “Harper and Zander work together. She finds trouble because of the ghosts. I like knowing Zander and Shawn are across the road should something happen if I’m working a late shift or something.
“Plus, well, you’ve met him,” he continued. “He needs to be close to Harper or he will completely fall off the rails. Harper isn’t as intense as Zander, but she likes having easy access to her best friend. This way, they’re like five hundred feet apart. Plus, we have better river access so we can have a hammock.”
“I ... what does a hammock have to do with anything?” Rowan asked, confused.
“Hammocking is my favorite summer sport.”
“I don’t think that’s a sport, man,” Quinn countered, grinning. “I also don’t think that’s a word.”
“Oh, it’s more than a word. It’s a lifestyle.”
Harper laughed when Jared moved his face to her neck and gave her a noisy kiss. “He loves his hammock,” she explained.
“I guess so.” Quinn pursed his lips as he crossed and uncrossed his legs at the ankles. “I guess it’s fair to say that you believe Zander isn’t a suspect in the murder of Tasha Vale, huh? I’m guessing you wouldn’t allow Harper to hang out with him if you thought he was dangerous.”
Jared’s expression was amused. “Yeah, you don’t believe Zander is a murderer,” he drawled. “You interviewed him — which you had no choice but to do — but you don’t believe he’s guilty of what happened to that woman any more than I do. You’re obviously struggling to narrow down suspects, though. If you need help, I can lend an ear.”
“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time I’ve investigated a murder,” Quinn said. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fully capable of investigating without your help.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t capable,” Jared shot back. “This is my job, though.”
“It’s my job, too. I appreciate the offer, but I have to keep the investigation clean. I don’t think it would look good if the good friend of my chief suspect helped me solve the case.”
“Zander isn’t your chief suspect, though,” Jared pressed.
“Just because I don’t happen to believe he’s the man we’re looking for, that doesn’t mean that I can completely rule him out,” Quinn argued. “He was on the deck when she was killed. He wasn’t all that far away. He should’ve heard something. The fact that he didn’t ... well, it’s suspect.”
“He was drunk,” Harper countered, her eyes flashing. “If he’d been awake, he would’ve helped. He would’ve saved her.”
“Or died with her,” Jared said.
Harper’s expression turned dark. “Don’t joke about that.”
“I’m not joking, Heart.” Jared stroked his hand down the back of her head. “I didn’t mean to upset you. That wasn’t a joke, though. We got lucky that Zander was only dead to the world. There’s a chance our killer didn’t even know he was there. Otherwise, honestly, what’s the difference between one murder and two?”
Harper was appalled. “Don’t say things like that. He’s okay. He’s over there playing Sherlock Holmes with the psychic. I don’t want to think about him not being okay.”
“I know.” Jared slipped an arm around her slim shoulders and pulled her close. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was mean and insensitive. I won’t say it again.”
Harper didn’t look convinced. “I don’t like thinking about it.”
“I know.” Jared kissed her forehead and met Quinn’s steady gaze over the table. “What? I didn’t mean to upset her. Don’t give me that look.”
“No, that’s not why I was staring,” Quinn said. “It’s something you just said. I never considered it.”
“What did I say?”
“I assumed that Zander was with Tasha on the deck right before it happened, that maybe they were talking and he passed out or something,” Quinn replied. “That might not be what happened, though. If someone was watching Tasha and she was talking to Zander, then he would’ve been a threat no matter how recently he passed out.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Jared said, his hands busy over Harper’s back as he hugged her. “I think I’m missing your point.”
“I told you the video footage is hard to see,” Quinn explained. “It turned foggy after midnight and Tasha was close to the railing. I didn’t really look for Zander, though. I zeroed in on the area right around the time of death. Maybe, if I look earlier in the evening, I’ll see Zander and that will go a long way toward clearing him.”
“Technically, I think you’ve already cleared him,” Jared persisted.
“I can’t base an investigation on my gut,” Quinn said. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but Zander will remain a suspect until I have a reason to rule him out.”
“And how will that video footage allow you to do that?” Harper asked, lifting her head. “How will it help?”
“If Zander was in that chair a significant amount of time before Tasha was killed, if he’s unmoving and passed out on the footage, it seems likely that what Jared said is true,” Quinn explained. “He might be alive because the killer simply didn’t know he was there.”
Harper involuntarily shuddered. “It sounds like a long shot to me. Still, if you can clear Zander, that would make all of us feel better.”
“I can give it a shot. I’ll put men on the footage first thing in the morning. We might be able to clear your buddy by noon.”
“That would be great.” Harper brightened. “That will get him out of his funk and back in vacation mode.”
“That’s the most important thing,” Jared said.
Harper’s glare was pointed. “Don’t you start.”
“I’m going to start something else,” he teased, kissing her. “Ok, let’s collect Zander and head back to the rooms. I don’t want to risk any of us being out late again.”
“That’s probably wise,” Quinn said. “A storm is rolling in. It’s supposed to be a doozy.”
“Then let’s get him and go,” Harper said. “I want to make sure we’re all safe tonight.”
Jared nodded grimly. “That’s the plan.”
Ten
Zander wasn’t keen on being torn away from the psychic to the stars, but the moment he heard the clap of thunder when they hit the main deck on their way to their rooms, he changed his mind. He was exhausted and needed sleep ... and nobody wanted to be out in the storm.
Harper and Jared rolled into bed — and into each other’s arms — the second they finished brushing their teeth. The storm was loud outside and the ride was a bit choppier than usual, but it didn’t stop either of them from slipping into slumber.
By the time they woke the next morning, the storm seemed to be over, which was a relief for both of them.
“How are you feeling?” Jared asked, pushing her hair away from her face. She slept hard, so that usually meant she was plagued by bedhead. She hated it. He found it adorable.
“I’m okay.” Harper’s smile was quick and fast. “I know you were worried about me yesterday, but I’m honestly okay.”
“I was definitely worried,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You seem all right, though. I think we both needed the sleep.”
“We did.” She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. “That was some storm last night. I thought there was a chance I might get sick from the rolling, but it wasn’t so bad.”
“I thought I might toss my cookies there for a bit myself,” Jared admitted as he trailed his fingers over her spine. “Once I fell asleep, though, I slept hard.”
“Me, too.”
“Are you hungry?”
Harper nodded. “Yeah, but I want to stay like this for five more minutes. I mean ... if that’s okay with you.”
He grinned as she shifted lower, and met her gaze. “I want to stay like this forever. I’m pretty sure that’s why I proposed.”
She rolled her eyes. “We couldn’t make it more than a week because neither one of us likes pizza enough to live on it for the rest of our lives.”
He barked out a laugh, genuinely amused. “Well, maybe we’ll luck out and get a new sort of delivery service, huh?”
“That would be nice.” Harper rubbed her nose against his morning stubble. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“No, I really love you.”
He paused. “Are you saying I really don’t love you?” he asked finally.
“No, I just love you more this morning.”
“Oh, really?” His eyebrows hopped. “And why is that?”
“Because you held it together for me yesterday when I was falling apart. I needed that.”
“Heart, I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but I was falling apart just as much as you,” Jared admitted. “I honestly understood the odds of Zander being the body on the deck were slim, but between your worry and that little niggling voice in the back of my head, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something horrible was going to happen either.”
She smirked, amusement washing over her. “It’s good to know you’re not always perfect.”
“Oh, I was still perfect. I was simply worried and perfect at the same time.”
“Good to know.” She tightened her grip on him. “Jared?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.”
Jared was well aware of that. “You’re not going to have to find out. He’s safe. He’s going to stay safe. In fact ... .” He broke off and looked at the small clock resting on the nightstand. “We have just enough time.”
“For what?”
“To do this for ten minutes, shower, and then collect him for breakfast. I figure you guys will want to spend a bit of time together today.”
“And that won’t bother you?”
“No. I’m going to volunteer my services to Quinn again.”
“You are?” Harper was confused. “But ... why? He made it pretty clear yesterday that he doesn’t want your help.”
“I want to make sure that Zander is cleared,” Jared replied, matter-of-fact. “The sooner that happens, the better it is for all of us.”
“What if he won’t let you help?”
“You let me worry about that.”
“UGH. WHAT IS THAT NOISE?”
Rowan wasn’t a morning person, so when Quinn’s phone started going off a full thirty minutes before her alarm, she didn’t take it well.
“Oh, poor Rowan,” Quinn teased, kissing her forehead before leaning toward the nightstand to grab his phone. “I think you’ll survive.”
“You don’t know,” Rowan shot back, squeezing her eyes shut. “I read a story in the newspaper once that said it’s entirely possible for people to die if they don’t get enough sleep.”
“I believe they were probably talking about extreme insomniacs,” Quinn noted. “Getting eight and a half hours of sleep instead of nine isn’t exactly the same thing.”
“I’m done talking to you.”
“Oh, my heart.” He touched the “answer” spot on his phone and pressed it to his ear. “Davenport.” He kept an arm around Rowan’s back as she burrowed into his chest. It was as if she knew he would have to leave shortly and she was trying to get her fill while she could. “And you’ve entered his room just to be on the safe side?”
Rowan lifted her chin to stare at Quinn, concern replacing morning malaise.
“Okay.” Quinn bobbed his head, resigned. “Get on the cameras — and don’t forget the job I left last night — and see what you can find. I’ll be in my office in thirty minutes.” He disconnected and slowly shifted his eyes to Rowan. “There went my plans for you this morning.”
She forced a smile. “What’s wrong? I’m almost afraid to ask, but I have to know. Is someone dead?”
“No, sweetie.” He gave her a quick, reassuring kiss. “No one is dead. Yet.” He hated adding the last part but he felt it was necessary. “Someone is, however, missing.”
“Who?”
“Mark Brady.”
Rowan couldn’t quite identify the emotions rolling through her as she slowly moved to a sitting position. “The psychic to the stars?”
“One and the same.” Quinn moved his fingers over her arm, noting the goosebumps that had broken out upon her skin. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Do better than that.”
The look Rowan shot him was withering. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. The guy is a douche — and he’s not dead, at least as far as we know — but the entire thing is weird.”
“Did you take photos of him?” Quinn asked.
Rowan nodded. “Yeah. He didn’t have the omen.”
“Can you do me a favor and check again?”
“I should’ve thought of that.” Rowan scrambled out of bed, leaving Quinn to miss her warmth. When she returned with her laptop, he made sure to wrap the blankets around her as she scanned through the photos. “Huh.”
“What is it?” Quinn propped himself on an elbow and angled his head so he could see the computer screen. “What’s going on?”
Rowan pointed. “He has an omen, but it’s not the death omen.”
“It’s the one that means danger, right?” Quinn had trouble keeping the omens straight in his head. So far, Rowan had seen three different symbols. Before arriving on The Bounding Storm, she’d only seen one. The new omens were hard to grasp, although Quinn recognized Rowan would eventually have to get over her reservations.
“That’s what Sally told me,” Rowan replied after a beat. “She recognized the symbol from her time in New Orleans. I’ve only seen it
once before.”
“There’s no death omen on that photo, though,” Quinn pointed out. He’d trained himself to recognize the omens no matter where they showed up in a photograph. “That’s good. That means he’s not dead.”
“Probably not dead,” she clarified. “I don’t think being in trouble precludes someone dying.”
“No. I agree.” Conflicted, Quinn rested his forehead against her temple. “I don’t want you getting worked up over this situation. We’re going to find him. Odds are, he’s naked in some woman’s bed somewhere. I have to figure that he occasionally takes sex as payment when removing one of those curses he keeps talking about. That’s why it’s always women who end up with the curses.”
Rowan made a face, horrified. “Do you think that’s true?”
He shrugged. “I think it’s likely.”
“Ugh. That is horrible.”
“I agree with you there.” He wrapped his arms around her, being careful to protect the laptop as she continued to stare. “I have to get going. I’ve got men all over the ship looking for Brady. I need to join in, though.”
“Do you want me to help? I mean ... I can stick with you all day if you need me.”
“I always want you with me.” He meant it. “You need to focus on photos, though. I want fresh photos of everyone you can manage so we can track the omen situation ... and by that I mean the death omen situation. I still think we’re dealing with a big event and I don’t want to lose sight of that.”
“Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“If I had my druthers, we would spend the entire day in bed and tune out the rest of the world. That doesn’t appear to be an option today. We have to do what we have to do ... and that means figuring out what’s going on with those death omens and trying to track down the missing psychic. I think we’re going to have to split duties on this one.”
She recognized what he was saying. That didn’t mean she liked it, but she understood. “Okay. I’ll keep on the death omens.”
“Good.” He kissed the corner of her mouth softly. “Keep in touch throughout the day. I want to know that you’re safe ... and if you’ve managed to track anything down.”
Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus Page 49
