Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus

by Lily Harper Hart

  “And your father came back,” she surmised.

  Rowan nodded. “Yeah. That’s a big secret, though, so you can’t tell anyone. He’s in hiding.”

  “Because someone is interested in your ability?”

  “How did you know that?” Rowan was amazed.

  “I watch a lot of television,” Harper replied, matter-of-fact. “That would be a total television plot. I’m guessing he has a few abilities, too.”

  “My mother did, too. They passed it on to me. He was trying to protect me. That is also a whole other conversation that has nothing to do with our current predicament.”

  Harper’s face was blank. “What’s our current predicament? I can guarantee that Zander didn’t kill Tasha, for the record. We have a murder to solve, of course, but that’s kind of a normal predicament for me.”

  Rowan’s laugh was hollow. “Oddly enough, it is for me, too. The thing is ... there’s more going on.” She reclaimed her camera and started flipping through photos. “I’ve counted and there are more than a hundred people on this ship who have the death omen. That’s never happened to me before. My record previously was two people. This is more than a hundred.”

  Harper gaped as Rowan scrolled through the photos. “A hundred people are going to die?”

  “If we don’t do something about it.”

  “Ah, well, that sucks.” Harper leaned back in her chair and let her gaze drift to the ceiling. “I need a drink.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  QUINN WALKED WITH JARED back to his room shortly before dinner. They’d been from one end of the ship to the other and come up empty. They were both feeling frustrated.

  “I don’t know where else to look,” Quinn admitted, shaking his head. “My men have been watching the footage and there’s nothing we can use. If Brady was on deck last night, the storm obliterated his image. That’s not uncommon but ... it’s weird. What are the odds we would lose all trace of him?”

  “I can’t answer that,” Jared replied, digging in his pocket for his room card. “I’m not familiar with the technology on the ship. I’m guessing it’s better than most, though, so I honestly don’t know.” He waved the card in front of the lock. “Maybe we need to think about this some more over beers. I ... .”

  He pulled up short when he realized Harper wasn’t alone in the room. He wasn’t even sure she was present until he opened the door ... and found Harper and Rowan sitting on the floor with a laptop positioned between them.

  “What’s going on?”

  Quinn followed him, his eyes going wide when he saw his girlfriend with a Corona in her hand. “Are you drinking? It’s like ... the middle of the afternoon.”

  “Thank you for the time flash, Señor Timekeeper,” Harper drawled. She wasn’t exactly drunk, but she wasn’t entirely sober either. “I don’t know what we would do without you stating the obvious.”

  “Hey!” Quinn’s temper was on full display as he gazed between faces. “What are you guys looking at?”

  “Photos,” Rowan replied, swigging from her beer. “I told Harper what’s going on, by the way. I know you’ll probably be angry but ... I needed someone to talk to. She gets it because she sees ghosts.”

  “Well, great,” Quinn muttered, steadfastly avoiding the gaze Jared tossed in his direction. “That’s just ... great. I thought we talked about this.”

  “We did,” Rowan agreed. “You talked and I listened. I need help, though. It’s too much.”

  Quinn strode forward and snagged the beer from her hand. Instead of tossing it, he took a long swig. “You’re going to be the death of me. You know that, right?”

  Rowan’s smile was sweet. “I love you.”

  He sighed. He couldn’t stay angry at her. “You should’ve talked to me about this before you did it.”

  “Harper won’t say anything.” Rowan was certain of that. “She has her own secrets. She talked to Tasha Vale today, by the way. She’s a ghost but doesn’t believe she’s dead. I interrupted them and Tasha ran away, but we’re hoping to track her down again.”

  “Oh, really?” Quinn finally found the courage to meet Jared’s gaze. “Do you believe this?”

  Jared merely shrugged. “Harper has a mind of her own.” He knelt next to his fiancée and stared at the computer screen. “Why are you guys looking at photos of the guests?”

  “Because a hundred people are going to die,” Harper replied. “We’re trying to figure out how to stop it.”

  “A hundred people are going to die?” Jared’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “How? I mean ... how?”

  “We don’t know how.” Harper shrugged and made a face when Jared stole her beer. “Hey! That’s mine.”

  “You’re sharing now.” Jared took a long pull and slid his gaze to Quinn. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on? These two are tipsy and the story might lose something in the telling because of that.”

  Quinn shrugged as he heaved out a sigh. “It’s kind of a long story.”

  Harper raised her hand. “I can tell it fast.”

  “Oh, really?” Quinn wasn’t convinced. “Give it a shot.”

  “Rowan sees death omens in photos,” Harper replied, grimacing at Quinn in an effort to irritate him. “She’s been able to do it since she was a kid. She tries to keep the people in her photos safe and it doesn’t always work. Right now, there are death omens in over a hundred photos. She’s never had that many at once. Something bad is going to happen.”

  Jared pursed his lips. “Is that true?” He directed the question toward Quinn.

  “Yeah.” Quinn was sheepish. “It’s true. We’re trying to figure it out, but we’ve never dealt with a situation like this before. Previously, all the omens showed up on individual photos. Once, I think I remember the omen showing up on two different photos at the same time. This is something else entirely.”

  “So ... how do we figure out what sort of catastrophe we’re looking at?” Jared was calm as he swatted away Harper’s hand when she tried to reclaim the beer. “This has to be something that happens on the ship, right? How do we figure out what?”

  “Rowan has a list of all the catastrophes that could happen,” Harper offered. “Some of them are freaky.”

  “We’re not using that list,” Quinn insisted. “I thought I threw away that list.”

  “I had a backup,” Rowan replied simply. “I’m so afraid of what’s going to happen I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  Quinn took pity on her as he pulled her in for a tight hug. “We’re going to figure this out. I promise you that. Please don’t let this consume you.”

  “Of course we’re going to figure this out,” Harper said brightly. “We both have gifts. There has to be a reason we came together now, right, Jared?”

  Jared smiled at his future wife. “Right. You’re going to sober up first, though.”

  Harper beamed at him. “Good idea.”

  “I’m full of them.”

  Thirteen

  Quinn and Jared spent an hour sobering up Harper and Rowan. Thankfully, they weren’t drunk as much as tipsy. When Zander stopped by looking for Harper, a suggestion that a spa visit might be a good idea on his lips, Jared jumped at the chance. He shoved Harper and Rowan out the door, told Zander he was in charge – which put him in a really good mood – and then focused his full attention on Quinn.

  “Well, that’s not how I saw this afternoon going,” he lamented.

  Quinn barked out a laugh, amusement coursing through him. “I think we can agree on that.”

  “So … um … should we talk about what happened?” Jared was rarely unsure of himself, but he felt as if he was treading on thin ice now.

  Quinn swallowed hard. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I guess. Although … I’m not sure what to say.”

  “You must have questions.”

  “My only question revolves around the accuracy of these omens. Do you believe more than a hundred people are in danger of losing t
heir lives?”

  Quinn nodded without hesitation. “I do. She’s never been wrong. We’ve been able to thwart several attempts, but it was always clear what was happening at the time.”

  “That means you haven’t always been able to stop what’s about to happen,” Jared mused.

  “Not always,” Quinn agreed. “We’ve lost several people, and it’s never easy. It’s hardest on Rowan, though. She considers herself a failure when that happens.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “It’s not. Are you going to tell me that Harper never considers herself a failure? I’m guessing she’s tried to help people – both living and dead – over the course of her life. It can’t always end on a high note.”

  “Definitely not,” Jared agreed, grimacing. “She takes things to heart sometimes. She’s the smartest person I know and yet she always second guesses herself. I get why, and I’m guessing Rowan is similar. I don’t like it, though. I always want her to be on top of the world.”

  “That’s not reality, though.”

  “No.”

  “Is that all you want to know?” Quinn asked, not bothering to hide his surprise. “My girlfriend can predict death with her camera.”

  “My girlfriend sees and talks to ghosts. She can send them to the other side. Sometimes she has weird nightmares that I think might be real, but she doesn’t want to admit it. Do you really want to start comparing weird girlfriends?”

  Quinn snorted. “No, although we seem to have some time. I thought maybe we could track down some of the women who had their deaths predicted by Brady. He’s still out there somewhere.”

  “Unless he’s not,” Jared countered. “We didn’t find him on the ship. Is it possible he went over the railing? I know that’s probably rare, but if I was going to kill someone on a cruise ship, that’s how I would dump the body.”

  “I’m glad to see you’ve given this some thought.”

  Jared merely shrugged. “I’m betting it occurred to you, too.”

  “Yeah.” Quinn rolled his neck. “If he went overboard, there’s nothing we can do about it. I have to continue under the assumption that he’s alive, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Questions then?”

  Quinn bobbed his head. “Questions.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  “HAVE YOU NOTICED that cucumber slices make water taste better than wine?” Zander asked, swirling a glass in front of him as his feet rested on a bench. He was in the middle of a pedicure and having a fabulous time.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Rowan said, although she happily slurped from a glass as one of the technicians worked on her feet. “I had no idea free spa treatments were part of my employment package, by the way. Had I known that, I would’ve been here sooner.”

  The woman scrubbing Rowan’s feet smiled, but she seemed lost in her own little world, apparently oblivious to the conversation bubbling around her. Rowan figured it had to be a monotonous job, so she didn’t take it personally.

  “I would live here,” Harper said, grinning when she handed her technician a bottle of blue nail polish. “Zander got me in the habit of regular spa visits and I absolutely love them.”

  “Zander is wise,” Zander announced, rakishly speaking about himself in the third person. “Zander is the smartest man in the world.”

  “Zander is a butthead,” Harper shot back. “Zander got so drunk two nights ago he passed out on the deck and almost gave me a heart attack. Zander is going to have to beg to get me to forgive him for that.”

  Zander rolled his eyes. “You puked on me. I think that’s payback enough.”

  “You puked on him?” Rowan choked on a laugh. “I … was it on purpose?”

  Harper snorted. “No. When the body showed up on the deck, I happened to be looking for Zander. I was worried at the time and convinced it was probably him. I worked myself into a frenzy and totally puked on him. That’s what woke him up.”

  “Yes, it was a lovely moment,” Zander drawled. “I think I’m going to tell my children about it one day. ‘Hey, kids, did I ever tell you about the time Aunt Harper threw up on me because she thought I was dead?’ That’s a story that will never tire in the telling.”

  Rowan laughed so hard her eyes watered. “Oh, you really are great. I know I shouldn’t say that because it will only inflate your ego, but I want to keep you with me for the rest of my life.”

  “You can’t have him.” Harper feigned seriousness. “I’ll fight you to the death for him.”

  Zander preened. “And she’s tall so she’ll squash you like a bug.”

  This time all three of them burst into hysterical gales of laughter. Death was hanging over them, but they could still see the sun through the clouds … and enjoy it.

  IT WASN’T HARD FOR QUINN and Jared to track down Brady’s victims. They weren’t exactly shy about their dislike for the man, and several were holding court in the tiki bar when it came time to track them down.

  “And then he dropped his voice like he was an extra from The Exorcist and looked me square in the face,” a boisterous blonde intoned from the center of a small group of women. “He said ‘you’re going to die before the night is out unless you let me take this curse off you.’

  “Now, I didn’t believe for a second I was going to die, but he made me wonder a little bit,” she continued. “No one wants to die while they’re on vacation. I mean … I know better and yet I still paid him to take the curse off. What does that say about me?”

  Sympathetic murmurs sprang up from the crowd and another woman bellowed her agreement.

  “He did the same thing to me!” she said. “I hope he gets a disease on his unmentionable parts and it falls off.”

  Jared pressed his lips together to keep from laughing as Quinn led the way to the bar.

  “What’s going on?” Quinn asked the man behind the bar as he sidled between two stools. “Are they getting rowdy?”

  Demarcus shrugged as he dried a glass. “It’s the ‘I Hate Mark Brady’ fan club,” he replied. “They’ve been doing imitations of him for an hour. I don’t think he has a lot of fans on this ship.”

  “I wondered about that the first night,” Quinn admitted. “Still, what’s making them congregate here? Do they know he’s missing?”

  “He’s missing? I didn’t know that. I’m pretty sure they don’t either. If you want to tell them, though, I bet each one of them will be willing to do the naked pretzel with you.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Quinn said dryly.

  “Hey, there are some fine-looking ladies over there.”

  “I have a beautiful girlfriend already.”

  “You definitely do.” Demarcus winked at Quinn before focusing on Jared. “I recognize you. You’re Harper Harlow’s boyfriend.”

  Jared nodded. “I am. How do you know Harper?”

  “I met her earlier today.”

  “Are you the one who gave her the beer?”

  Sensing trouble, Demarcus shifted from one foot to the other. “Um … .”

  “It’s fine if you did,” Jared said hurriedly. “I’m simply curious how she managed to get her hands on it in the suite.”

  “Rowan might’ve placed a call to me and I might’ve bent the rules and sent someone up with drinks for them,” Demarcus hedged. “I definitely didn’t do that if I’m going to get in trouble, though.”

  Quinn snickered. “You’re not going to get in trouble. It’s fine. They’ve sobered up and are enjoying the spa.”

  “Whew.” Demarcus mocked wiping his forehead. “I’m glad I’m not going to be locked in fake jail for the duration of the trip.”

  “Ha, ha.” Quinn flicked his ear. “I’m interested in the women. What possessed them to start a ‘Bag on Brady’ party?”

  “Oh, that’s such a better name than what I came up with,” Demarcus groused. “I should’ve thought of that.”

  “Dude, tell me,” Quinn prodded.

  “I don’t know what spurred
it,” Demarcus replied. “You should ask them. They seem eager to talk.”

  “Fine.” Quinn wasn’t thrilled with the idea of climbing into the middle of a lioness circle, but he didn’t see where he had a lot of choice. “Come on.” He tapped Jared’s arm to get him to move forward. “I’m not doing this alone.”

  “Why do I have to go with you?” Jared whined.

  “Are you afraid of them or something?”

  Jared nodded without hesitation. “Look at them. They’re liquored up and ready for a fight. They’ll eat us alive.”

  Quinn happened to agree, but he had no choice. “Suck it up … and let me do the talking.”

  “Gladly.”

  Quinn approached the women with a bright smile on his face, hoping he looked friendly and open rather than militaristic. The women wouldn’t talk if they thought they were participating in an interrogation.

  “Hello, ladies,” he called out, putting his charm on full display. “I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about Mark Brady.”

  “Oh, you mean the psychic to the stars?” one of the women gritted out, rolling her eyes.

  “That would be the individual we’re looking for,” Quinn confirmed, ignoring the way the nearest woman looked him up and down as if he were a porterhouse steak. “We’re trying to find him. It seems he missed a call time and I was just wondering if you’ve seen him around.”

  Quinn thought it was a simple way to insert himself into the conversation. He was massively wrong.

  “Why would we care where he is?” The woman who had been talking when they entered the tiki bar squared her shoulders. “We think he’s the scum of the earth.”

  “He tried to lick my ear,” a pretty brunette announced, wrinkling her nose. “As if I would ever let anyone – especially him – do that to me.”

  “He tried to lick your ear?” Jared was appalled. “Was this before or after he lifted the curse on you?”

  “During the process.”

  “That’s a little gross.”

  “It’s a lot gross,” Quinn countered, shaking his head. “I plan to have a serious conversation with him about that … as soon as I track him down. Has anyone seen him recently?”