“Harper can see ghosts,” Rowan explained, hoping that would somehow put her father at ease. “She was on a television show because of it ... although she hates that show so maybe you shouldn’t watch.”
“Definitely don’t watch,” Harper agreed.
“You see ghosts?” Paul asked, intrigued. He wasn’t exactly relaxed, but his shoulders lost some of the stiffness they’d been carrying. “How does that work?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always been able to see ghosts. I thought it started when my grandfather died, but it turns out, I could see them long before that. I just couldn’t remember because I was so young.”
“Her grandfather could see ghosts, too,” Rowan explained. “He died before being able to tell her about it, though. She’s perfectly normal, in case you’re wondering.”
Harper’s grin widened. “Just like Rowan, who can see death omens with her camera. We’re normal and proud of it.”
For the first time since the conversation started, Paul chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you found each other.” He wasn’t sure what to say given the surreal situation, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “I take it you two have bonded.”
“We went to the spa together today,” Rowan admitted. “It was kind of fun. We had our toenails painted and interrogated a woman who knew our missing psychic in high school.”
The amusement fled Paul’s features. “What missing psychic?”
“Oh, right.” Rowan sobered. “I haven’t talked to you since the latest development. In addition to the dead body, which you only got vague details about because I wasn’t quite sure what was happening at the time, the psychic who put on a show at dinner the other night is missing.”
“I see.” Paul rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “Give me a breakdown of the victim and this psychic.”
Rowan kept the story concise but left nothing out. When she was finished, Paul looked even more concerned than when the conversation started.
“Well, that can’t be good.”
Harper snorted. “Is that your professional opinion?”
“I can tell you’re all mouth,” Paul noted.
“I am,” Harper agreed. “That doesn’t mean I’m not good at my job.”
“Harper grew up in Whisper Cove,” Rowan added. “That’s not far from where we used to live. She still lives there.”
“Really?” Paul’s eyebrows hopped. “I’ve visited Whisper Cove a number of times. In fact, the first Christmas after Rowan’s mother died, I took her to the holiday festival up there.”
“You did? I ... huh. Now that you mention it, I remember that. They had hot chocolate and you were worried I would accidentally drink the alcoholic kind they were handing out.”
“That hot chocolate is still a thing,” Harper said, grinning. “I had some just a few weeks ago.”
“I remember liking Whisper Cove a great deal,” Paul admitted. “It was quaint and homey, quiet. There was no bustle of traffic and yet the town was only twenty minutes from a mall. I actually considered moving Rowan up there for a hot second.”
“You did? I didn’t know that.” Rowan marveled at how her father always managed to surprise her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wasn’t sure if it was right for you,” Paul admitted. “You were dealing with a lot. I thought a change of scenery might do you well. Then I realized that yanking you away from the house we shared with your mother was probably a mistake, so I dropped it.”
“It would’ve been cool if you moved to Whisper Cove,” Harper supplied. “You could’ve hung out with Zander and me.”
“I’m sure that would’ve been a loud and zany couple of years.”
Harper snorted. “You have no idea.”
“What about the dead woman?” Paul asked, steering them back on course. “Do you know anything else about her?”
“Not a lot,” Rowan replied. “Her name is Tasha Vale, but we’re pretty sure that wasn’t her real name. Quinn is off running background checks right now with Harper’s fiancé. He’s a police detective in Whisper Cove.”
“Well, at least you have help.” Paul rubbed the back of his neck and considered the new information. “I’ve been doing research — at least to the best of my ability — on the omen. The only thing I can come up with for why you’re seeing so many is that there’s going to be some sort of mass-casualty situation.”
Harper pressed her lips together to keep from laughing while Rowan held her face impassive.
“Yeah, we’ve pretty much figured that out ourselves,” Rowan said. “I made a list and there are more than a hundred different things that could go wrong on this ship and cause a catastrophe. I don’t know which one to focus on.”
“Out of curiosity, have you taken a photo of yourself?” Paul asked, uncomfortable.
“Of myself?” Rowan was confused.
“To see if the omen is in the photograph.”
“Oh. I hadn’t considered that.” Rowan scratched an invisible itch on the side of her nose. “I’m not sure I want to know if I’m going to die.”
“Yeah, well, I want to know.” Paul was firm. “Take the photo.”
Rowan made a grumbling sound under her breath but retrieved her camera. On a whim, she snapped Harper’s photo before sitting down and taking a selfie. She didn’t bother posing because she had no intention of keeping the photograph. When she turned the camera over, she found her snapshot free of the omen.
“I’m clear,” Rowan said after a beat.
Paul exhaled loud. “That’s good. That’s really good.”
Rowan flipped to Harper’s photograph. “Harper is okay, too.”
“That’s very good.” Paul beamed at Harper. “Aren’t you happy to be safe?”
Harper merely shrugged. “I tend to find trouble wherever I go — that’s what Jared says anyway — so I’m not convinced things won’t change down the line. Time isn’t set, right? Things could shift.”
“Well, aren’t you just a ray of freaking sunshine,” Paul groused.
His annoyance caused Harper to smile. “I’m a true joy. For now, I’m glad I’m not going to die. That doesn’t mean I’ll lower my guard.”
“You definitely shouldn’t,” Paul agreed. “As for what to do, Rowan, I honestly don’t know. It seems to me that a lot of people are in danger and I can’t give you any ideas on how to help them.”
“I don’t know either.” Rowan slumped in her chair. “It all feels so overwhelming. The thing is, I have to believe that Tasha dying, Brady going missing, and the multiple omens are all tied together. I think it’s too much of a coincidence otherwise.”
“I would tend to agree,” Paul said. “I don’t know that it shifts how you should react either way. You need to be careful.”
“I’m always careful.”
“No, you’re not. You’re brave and strong and you do what you think is right. That doesn’t always equate to being careful.”
“Yes, Dad.” Rowan winked at him, amused. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I can’t help it. You’re my daughter. I’m always going to worry about you.”
“That’s why we have to figure this out,” Rowan said. “We have so much else going on. We don’t have time for this, too.”
“Well, focus on that before this.” Paul was firm. “One can wait. The other ... obviously not. The most important thing is your safety.”
“We just have to figure out what’s going to happen. I’m not sure how to do it, though. There are too many variables.”
“So, break them down one at a time.”
“I don’t see how we have another choice.”
Fifteen
Jared and Quinn split up the background searches, both sitting at computers in Quinn’s office. They didn’t speak — there was no need really — and the silence was comfortable as they worked, the only sound coming from clicking keyboards.
“I have something,” Jared said about an hour in.
Quinn lifted his eyes and wa
ited.
“That Destiny Stone person Harper and Rowan ran across, her real name is Debbie Simpkins.”
“Well, we all knew that Destiny wasn’t her real name,” Quinn drawled.
“Actually, I’ve heard about real people being named Destiny,” Jared countered. “I think it was probably a little too coincidental for a paranormal shop owner to legitimately boast that name, but it’s not unheard of.”
“Thank you, Mr. Practical.”
Jared smirked. He enjoyed Quinn’s sarcasm even if he was still getting to know the man. “Debbie Simpkins filed a police report against Mark Brady in 2009.”
Quinn did the math in his head. “That’s about a decade ago.”
“After they were out of high school,” Jared agreed. “They would’ve been in their early twenties.”
“Okay. What was the report for?”
“Assault.”
Quinn’s eyes went wide with surprise at the information. “What kind of assault? Is she saying he raped her?”
“No, it was more of a physical altercation,” Jared replied. “They were both at an outdoor festival in Des Moines. Destiny was selling crystals and other stuff while Mark was giving readings.”
“Okay. I’m not sure how that leads to assault.”
“There was some kerfuffle at the festival.” Jared furrowed his brow as he read the report. “Apparently some woman was going to buy some crystals from Destiny and Mark told her the crystals would bring her bad luck if she did, so she changed her mind.
“Destiny was irritated because that cost her money and she and Brady started sniping at each other across the grounds,” he continued. “It sounds like things escalated, with both sides saying hateful things to each other. Then Brady called her a ‘talentless hack’ and she threw the biggest crystal she had at his head. He caught it and tried to smash it into her head.”
“That sounds more like an exchange than an assault.”
“Yeah, well, Brady is a good six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than Destiny. The cops probably figured they needed to send a message.”
“I can see that.” Quinn considered the story. “The girls didn’t mention that. I’m betting Destiny conveniently left that part out of her conversation with them.”
“Yeah. I don’t know that fighting over a lost sale ten years ago is reason to murder someone today, though.”
“We don’t know he’s dead,” Quinn reminded him. “In fact, according to the omen on his photo, he’s merely in danger.”
“You put a lot of stock in these omens. What if the omen is wrong?”
“It’s not. And I don’t put a lot of stock in the omens. I happen to have faith in Rowan.”
Jared inhaled through his nose. “I get that,” he said finally. “I have faith in Harper, too. It’s just ... I can’t quite wrap my head around these omens. How do you deal with it?”
Quinn shrugged. “Believe it or not, you get used to them.”
“Are you used to them?”
“Mostly.”
“And you don’t wish they would go away?”
Quinn opened his mouth to answer in the negative. It was an automatic response. Then he thought better of it. “I don’t know,” he hedged after some quiet contemplation. “I love her. I wouldn’t change anything about her. I don’t want her to be something she’s not.
“The thing is, she could be in danger thanks to this situation before it’s all said and done,” he continued. “She could lose her life if I’m not strong enough, or fast enough. Someone could try to take her from me, which I will not allow.
“So ... I don’t know how I feel about that,” he said. “I want her with me forever. I want her safe. That means we would be better off if she was ‘normal.’” He used the appropriate air quotes. “I wouldn’t change her for anything, though.”
“I get it.” Jared was sincere. “I feel the same way about Harper. I worry her ability will get her into trouble because she can’t say no to ghosts when they need help, but I don’t want her to change who she is. It’s a slippery slope.”
“It is,” Quinn agreed.
They lapsed into silence before turning back to their work. They’d basically said all they could say on the subject. Things were quiet again, the only noise emanating from clacking keys, and they were focused on their work. This time, Quinn was the one who broke the silence.
“I can’t find any ties between Tasha and Brady, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” he said. “They could’ve crossed paths at various events and there’s simply no record of it.”
“If we find Brady, we’ll have to ask him,” Jared said dryly.
“I’m thinking we’re going to find Brady.” Quinn was talking to himself more than Jared. “He’s somewhere on this ship. I’m sure of it.”
“That means he has to be in a guest room, right?” Jared queried.
“Yeah. It’s possible for him to be hidden. Guests aren’t required to let housekeeping into their rooms. If they put up the ‘Do Not Disturb’ signs, the maids bypass them. He could be in one of those rooms.”
“Do they keep a list of people who turn away maid service?”
Quinn nodded, thoughtful. “They do. That still doesn’t give us the right to enter.”
“No, but maybe we can run the names and come up with something there.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I found another guest who has clear ties to Brady, by the way. No ties to Tasha, but there’s a Ginger Bozeman who works the circuit as a psychic. From what I can tell, up until seven years ago she was the top psychic and got all the cushy jobs. She lost her prime positioning when a story about her having sex with an underage male surfaced.”
“Wait ... what?” Jared wrinkled his nose. “She’s a child molester?”
“The boy in question was seventeen,” Quinn replied. “The incident reportedly happened in California. The age of consent in Iowa is sixteen. The age of consent in California is eighteen. Ginger was twenty-three at the time.”
“Oh, well ... .” Jared trailed off, unsure how he felt about the situation. “She was six years older than him, which honestly isn’t that much in the grand scheme of things. He wasn’t an adult, though. Was there any coercion in the situation?”
“It doesn’t look like it,” Quinn replied, his gaze fixed on his screen. “The boy’s name isn’t mentioned because he was a minor. When news came out, Ginger tried to weather the storm, but Brady kept making a big deal about it, said she wasn’t fit to be around families. That put her status as a psychic in jeopardy because she worked a lot of parties.”
“That’s convenient,” Jared mused. “Do you think he set up the situation?”
Quinn held his hands out and shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. If the kid was underage, Ginger should’ve been held accountable for what she did. There seems to be some confusion in the police files, though.”
“And what confusion is that?”
“She swears up and down she thought he was twenty. The kid said he told her he was underage, but she says that’s not true. I don’t know what to think about it.”
Jared tugged on his bottom lip. “Do you think it’s possible Brady set her up to fall?”
“I do.”
“Well, she would definitely go on the enemies list.”
“And she’s here on the ship. Apparently she’s trying to make a comeback.”
“I can see her being pushed to the edge if she realized Brady was here,” Jared said. “I guess that means we need to talk to her.”
“Or at least watch her room,” Quinn said.
“Yeah.” Jared turned back to his computer screen and continued reading. He was busy for 10 minutes before he spoke again. “I’ve got another one,” he said. “Potter Granger. He fancies himself a warlock who casts curses for money. He and Brady used to live together in Chicago when Brady made the big move from Des Moines.”
“Potter Granger?” Quinn was understandably dubious. “As in ... Harry Potter?”
/> “I’m guessing so.” Jared was amused despite himself. “I don’t think these people care how stupid their names sound. That’s not really important. It says here that Brady convinced Granger to cover his rent for six months, swearing he had a contract coming in and would pay him back, and then he disappeared in the middle of the night and left Granger on the hook for the rent himself.
“Granger tried taking Brady to small claims court, won a judgment, and then Brady never made good on paying that judgment,” he continued. “The outstanding total is less than ten grand but ... if Granger was mad enough, there’s always the chance he decided to get his vengeance.”
“It seems Brady has ties to people all over the place,” Quinn commented. “This world is smaller than I envisioned.”
“And getting smaller,” Jared said. “I’m almost afraid to see how many more of these people we find.”
“That makes two of us.”
QUINN AND JARED IDENTIFIED another two potential suspects by the time they met Rowan, Harper, and Zander outside the dining room. Zander, his skin practically glowing, was regaling the two women with tales of his dashing spa mission when they arrived.
“And then I told her I would love to hear the story about how Brady slept with the mayor’s daughter in Aspen and then claimed he was up late reading the Bible with her,” he said.
Quinn and Jared exchanged amused looks.
“Did she mention the part where she filed assault charges against Brady?” Quinn asked, sidling up to Rowan long enough to press a kiss to her mouth. “Hey, Ro. How is my favorite girl?”
Amused, Rowan hiked an eyebrow. “If you’re talking about me, I’m fine.”
“Who else would I be talking about?”
“I don’t know. You seem ... weird ... though.”
“We’ve been delving through the sundry history of Mark Brady,” Jared volunteered. “I think we both feel a little dirty after the fact. The guy is ... not good.”
“How not good?” Harper asked, accepting a hug from Jared.
“The guy is a complete and total scammer,” Quinn replied. “He’s screwed people over left and right, including Destiny.” He relayed the story they’d uncovered, keeping it brief. When he was done, only Zander looked surprised.
Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus Page 54
