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

by Lily Harper Hart

  “I saw him,” a black woman announced from the back of the group. She had a cocktail clutched in her hand and fire in her eyes. “He was on the lido deck right after lunch. He was looking for more victims.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” another woman countered. She had red hair, which seemed to match her personality. “I saw him out by the shuffleboard area right after lunch. He wasn’t by the pool.”

  “He was inside right after lunch,” a blonde with the most impressive rack Jared had ever seen in real life argued. “I saw him by the shops. He wasn’t outside.”

  All the women started talking at once, sniping at one another. They all claimed they saw Brady after lunch, but they all pointed out different areas the sightings allegedly occurred.

  “What do you make of that?” Jared asked after several minutes of arguing. “They couldn’t have all seen him.”

  “No. I don’t know what to make of that.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “I have no idea.”

  EVEN THOUGH THEY’D SWORN off drinks for the rest of the afternoon, Harper and Rowan had a fine time living it up in the spa with Zander. They were in the middle of facials, their faces pointed at the ceiling as warm towels rested over special masks, when conversation turned to more serious matters.

  “Do you think the psychic’s disappearance has anything to do with the murder?” Harper asked.

  “I think it’s too coincidental for them not to be linked,” Rowan replied. “I’m not an expert, though. I guess it’s possible.”

  “I think they have to be linked, too,” Harper admitted.

  “Wait … what psychic?”

  The question didn’t come from a member of their group, and when Rowan shifted her towel, she found a woman sitting in a chair to her left. She was in the middle of getting her feet pumiced, and she’d obviously arrived in the middle of the conversation.

  “I’m sorry,” Rowan offered. “I didn’t realize we weren’t alone. You probably don’t want to listen to our gossip.”

  “That’s not true.” The woman’s smile was bright. “I’m Destiny Stone, by the way. I run a magic shop in Des Moines and I’m a ghost hunter by trade.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Harper pushed herself upright. “I’m a ghost hunter, too.” She pulled the towel from her face. “Harper Harlow.”

  Destiny’s mouth dropped open. “Holy … it’s really you.”

  “What’s really me?” Harper looked over her shoulder, confused.

  “You’re you,” Destiny blurted out. “I saw you on television. You were at an old asylum. That was some crazy stuff.”

  “Oh, right.” Harper managed to keep her smile in place, but just barely. “I was on television. Never again, though.”

  Destiny’s lips curved down. “You didn’t like it?”

  “Not even a little.” Harper opted for honesty. “Most of what that episode showed was edited together out of order. It didn’t happen the way they showed it.”

  “Well, that’s television.” Destiny wasn’t especially bothered by the admission. “What were you talking about before? What psychic is missing?”

  “Mark Brady,” Harper replied, seeing no reason to lie. “He seems to have hidden himself away somewhere on the ship.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” Destiny was a talker, and she seemed perfectly content to blab about a variety of different topics. “He’s a grifter. He’s known for running the second things get hot. Of course, he’s on a cruise ship. There aren’t that many places to run just now, are there?”

  “What do you mean?” Rowan asked, intrigued. “How do you know he’s a grifter?”

  “It’s common knowledge.”

  “But … I’m sure people say that about most everyone on this cruise,” she hedged, shooting an apologetic look in Harper’s direction. “Why do you specifically think he’s a grifter?”

  “Because he grew up in Des Moines,” Destiny replied, matter-of-fact. “He tells people he grew up in Salem, Massachusetts and is descended from witches, but that’s a total lie. He was two years ahead of me in high school. I actually saw him in the dining room that first night and waved at him, but he pretended he didn’t recognize me.”

  Rowan was flabbergasted. “So … you’ve known him your whole life?”

  “I wouldn’t say my whole life. I’ve known him since grade school, though. He’s got a terrible reputation in psychic circles, by the way. I’ve never talked out of turn about him, but I keep my ear to the ground.”

  Rowan very much doubted that Destiny refrained from talking out of turn about Brady, but opted to let the comment slide without poking holes in the story. “What can you tell us about him? Do you know how he got into the business?”

  “His father was a confidence man.”

  Rowan was confused. “I’m not sure what that is.”

  “A conman,” Harper supplied, thoughtful. “It’s how some people refer to conmen. We’re talking about the guys who have affairs with women to steal the family funds and the like.”

  “Oh.” Rowan made a face. “How did you know that?”

  “Zander makes me watch old movies.”

  “And rightfully so,” Zander called out from beneath his towel. “You would have absolutely zero culture without me.”

  “And the world would be a sadder place,” Harper teased, casting her friend a fond look. “I’m interested in hearing more about Brady’s father, though. Did he teach his son how to run a long con?”

  “Technically I think the psychic gig is a long con,” Destiny replied. “I think each particular job he does is a short con. I was surprised to find him on the ship, especially on the payroll, but he was always charming. He gets picked up for numerous first jobs. He never gets picked up for second jobs.”

  “I can see that,” Rowan said. “I would love to hear more about him, though. What can you tell us?”

  “Oh, I’ve got all the dirt.” Destiny beamed, seemingly happy being the center of attention. “Do you want me to start in grade school or high school?”

  Harper and Rowan exchanged tight smiles.

  “I think high school will be more than enough,” Rowan answered.

  Destiny shot her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Great. It all started in freshman year when he convinced the principal that he couldn’t come to class before ten because he had a medical ailment.”

  Harper internally groaned but kept her smile in place. They needed the information. Destiny was more than willing to provide it. She would simply move at her own pace. They had no option but to put up with it.

  Hopefully it would be worth it.

  Fourteen

  Harper and Rowan tracked Quinn and Jared down after their spa trip, leaving Zander behind to pamper himself and continue to dig information out of Destiny if she offered up anything of note.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Quinn asked, his eyes flashing dark when he recognized the two women approaching their table in the tiki bar. He and Jared were plotting Brady sightings on a program on his computer ... and coming up with more questions than answers.

  “And I love you, too,” Rowan drawled, rolling her eyes.

  Quinn held up his hands in mock defeat. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Whatever.” She momentarily turned petulant before shaking her head. “We got some information.”

  Quinn stared at her for a long beat. “I’m looking forward to hearing it ... after you get over being irritated with me.”

  “Who says I’m irritated with you?” Rowan’s tone was breezy but the way she folded her arms over her chest told Quinn he was in trouble.

  “I can tell you’re irritated with me,” he said quietly, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and giving it a little squeeze to cajole a smile out of her. When it worked, he returned the smile. “I wasn’t insinuating that I wasn’t happy seeing you. I simply thought you were spending the afternoon at the spa.”

  “We did spend the afternoon at the
spa,” Rowan shot back. “It’s almost five.”

  “It is?” Quinn flicked his eyes to the clock behind the bar and frowned. “I had no idea it was that late.”

  “We also came across someone whom you might be interested in,” Rowan added. “Someone who knew Mark Brady before he became the psychic to the stars.”

  Quinn stilled, intrigued despite himself. “Are you serious?”

  Rowan nodded. “Of course, I could head back to the spa like a good little girl if you’re otherwise engaged.”

  Quinn glowered at her. “This is going to come back and bite me, isn’t it?”

  “You have no idea.”

  He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair before wrapping an arm around Rowan’s waist and tugging her into the booth seat next to him. “Tell me, most beautiful woman in the world, what information you managed to glean.”

  “I don’t think you put enough effort into that tone,” Rowan complained, although she grinned when he made chomping noises against her neck. “Stop,” she whined, giggling. “You know that gives me chills.”

  “That’s why I do it.”

  “Stop.” She put a hand on his chest and fixed him with a firm look. “This is inappropriate for a workplace setting.”

  “Oh, there’s my little prude.” Quinn beamed as Harper slid into the booth seat with Jared across the way. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”

  “Ha, ha.” Rowan rolled her eyes. She was only mildly annoyed, and she leaned into Quinn to absorb his warmth for a moment before turning back to the conversation at hand. “So, we ran into a woman who went to high school with Mark Brady.”

  “Her name was Destiny,” Harper offered helpfully.

  “Seriously?” Jared slid her a sidelong look. “That seems ... unlikely.”

  “I don’t think her real name is Destiny, but it probably won’t be hard to track down,” Harper said. “They both grew up in Des Moines, and apparently Brady’s father was a confidence man.”

  “What’s a confidence man?” Quinn asked, confused.

  “A conman,” Rowan answered without a beat. “A grifter, a user, a manipulator.”

  “Thank you, Wikipedia.” He tweaked her nose, genuinely amused. “How did you know that?”

  “I didn’t. Harper told me.”

  Jared’s steady gaze landed on Harper. “How did you know that?”

  “Zander makes me watch a lot of television.”

  “And what show did that term come up on?”

  “Lost. Sawyer was a confidence man.”

  “And they say you can’t learn anything from television,” Jared teased, sliding his arm around Harper’s slim waist and nudging his iced tea in her direction. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”

  Harper made a face. “I wasn’t drunk.”

  “You were a little tipsy.”

  “Well, I’m fine now. I drank cucumber water.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Harper waved her hand. “We left Zander at the spa with Destiny. He wasn’t done getting pampered and she liked hearing herself talk so he might get more down the line. I told him to be ready for dinner at six.”

  “What about you guys?” Rowan asked. “Did you find anything?”

  “I don’t know,” Quinn answered honestly. “What we found was ... weird.”

  “Definitely weird,” Jared echoed.

  “Well, we’re going to need more information than that,” Harper prodded.

  “We have multiple people claiming they saw Brady this afternoon.”

  “Really?” Harper’s eyebrows hopped. “Where?”

  “At about twenty different locations on the ship,” Quinn answered. “He was sighted on the lido deck ... and by the shuffleboard games ... and in the stores ... and in the bars inside ... and even on the third floor wandering down a hallway.”

  “But ... how is that possible?” Rowan asked, confused. “I guess, in theory, he could’ve moved between those places in a short amount of time. Not all of them, though. Are your witnesses reliable?”

  “Our witnesses are Brady’s curse victims,” he replied. “We tracked them down here and they were going off about what a scammer he is.”

  “Do you think they’re somehow involved?” Harper asked, her mind busy. “I mean ... you don’t think they did this together, do you?”

  The notion hadn’t crossed Quinn’s mind, but now he was mildly intrigued. “I don’t know. I would think that unlikely, but I can’t completely rule it out. I guess it’s possible that they were all so enraged by what he did that they grouped together and threw him off the ship.”

  “That’s not possible,” Rowan argued. “He still has the danger omen, not the death omen. If he were tossed off the ship, he would be dead.”

  Quinn stroked his hand down the back of her head. “I didn’t think about that. Although ... it’s possible he didn’t die when he hit the water. He could still be out there, floating.”

  “And the odds of anyone finding him?” Rowan challenged. “You told me that was virtually impossible.”

  “It is.”

  “So, he would have the death omen.” She refused to back down. “I checked before we hit the spa. He still has the danger omen. That means he’s not dead.”

  “Okay.” Quinn held his hands up in capitulation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you riled up.”

  “I’m still trying to understand these omens,” Harper interjected in an effort to keep the duo from fighting. “What happens if we somehow save Brady? Does the omen disappear?”

  Rowan nodded.

  “Then that means the same for the mass casualties,” Jared noted. “If we change something, somehow affect the outcome, it will show up on the photographs.”

  “Exactly. That’s the goal. We can’t simply forget about Brady, though. He’s out there.”

  “He might be tied to this,” Jared suggested. “Maybe everything is part of the same story ... although I’m not sure how. I’m talking about Tasha dying, Brady disappearing, and whatever the mass-casualty event is.”

  “I think that’s possible, but I’m not sure it behooves us to investigate everything as if it's tied together in case it’s not,” Quinn said. “I think we should take everything separately, and if it fits together at the end, great. If it doesn’t, we won’t have lost any time.”

  “Time is the issue, though, isn’t it?” Jared pointed out. “We don’t have a lot of time. Whatever is going to happen will be soon. There are only a few days left on the cruise.”

  “There are,” Quinn agreed, pressing his forehead in frustration. “I’m not sure where to look next.”

  “I am.” Jared flashed a smile. “We take the information Harper and Rowan got for us and look into Brady’s background. We can’t move forward on Tasha’s murder or the potential catastrophe, but we have actual information on Brady. We need to focus on that. We might find something of interest.”

  “We can do that,” Quinn agreed, his eyes slowly tracking to Rowan. “What are you guys going to do? We still have an hour and a half before dinner.”

  “We’re going back to my room so I can talk to Dad,” Rowan replied without hesitation. “He said he was going to call — and in about fifteen minutes — so I’m hoping he has information to help us.”

  Quinn pursed his lips. “That sounds like a plan.”

  “So, basically we’re splitting again until dinner,” Jared said. “We’ll compare notes then.”

  Harper nodded as she leaned in to give him a kiss. “This is kind of fun, huh? It’s like we’re spies trying to save the world.”

  Jared chuckled. “That’s not exactly what I was thinking, but if that floats your boat, more power to you.”

  “I think it sounds fun.”

  “You would. Don’t forget to collect Zander before dinner. I don’t want him wandering around on his own after dark. He could get in trouble, and nobody needs that.”

  Harper offered up a saucy salute. “Yes, sir.”<
br />
  “You may think that’s sarcastic, but I find it hot,” Jared shot back.

  “You’re kind of a pig that way, sir.”

  His grin was slow and sly. “I am. You’ll have to punish me for it later.”

  “Oh, geez.” Quinn rolled his eyes to the sky. “I hope this isn’t how we sound to others when we’re flirting.”

  “I’m sure it’s not.” Rowan patted his knee under the table. “I’m certain we’re the exception to that rule.”

  “We’d better be.”

  ROWAN WAS NERVOUS AS she clicked the link to join the video call with her father. Harper had thoughtfully offered to leave her alone for the conversation, but Rowan wanted the woman close in case she thought of important questions to ask. This might be their only shot for a conversation before trouble found them … and in a big way.

  Paul’s face flashed into view seconds later, and his smile was so large it took up nearly half the screen. “Hello, Rowan.”

  “Hi, Dad.” Rowan shifted on her chair, nervous. “How are you?”

  “We’re fine. We’ve been digging deep on The Phoenix Society and have found a few tidbits, but they can wait until we get you through ... well, whatever it is we need to get you through.”

  “We’re not alone,” Rowan said quickly, gesturing for Harper to join her. “This is Harper Harlow.”

  Paul’s smile faded. “Um ... maybe I should call back later.”

  “It’s fine,” Rowan said hurriedly. “Harper is helping me with this. Um ... she is different, too.”

  “Totally different,” Harper agreed, offering up a half-wave. “For the record, I’m glad you didn’t try to kill anyone when you came back from the dead.”

  Rowan’s cheeks burned as Paul fixed her with a harsh glare. “She didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Her boyfriend came back from the dead a few months ago and the first thing he tried to do was kill her. It’s a whole big thing.”

  “Huge thing,” Harper agreed, throwing herself in the chair next to Rowan and grinning at Paul. “I’m glad to know that you’re not trying to kill anyone.”

  “Yes, well ... .” Paul licked his lips, unsure how to proceed.