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

by Lily Harper Hart

  “And you like Quinn,” Harper surmised. “You trust him, have faith in his decisions and instincts. If he believes Rowan, you believe her, too.”

  “Yeah. The question is, do you believe her?”

  Harper nodded. She’d been expecting the question. “She’s like me … only different. What she can do is real. She showed me the photos. She took new ones and showed me those, too. She’s the real deal.”

  “And you think finding Tasha’s ghost will help us stop this, right?”

  She held her palms out and shrugged. “I can’t say that with any degree of certainty. I simply don’t know where else to look.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. I promised Quinn I would help him with a project this morning, so I’ll lend my services to you for a ghost hunt this afternoon. Does that sound fair?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great.” He leaned in for a kiss but paused when she spoke again.

  “I’ll spend the morning searching with Zander and Rowan.”

  He groaned. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

  “You’re smart and pretty, too.”

  “Well, praise be.”

  ZANDER WASN’T IN HIS ROOM when Harper and Jared stopped to collect him for breakfast. There was, however, a note affixed to the door.

  “What is that?” Jared asked, reading over her shoulder when she removed the sheet of paper from the crack between the door and frame.

  “What’s it look like?”

  “Well, rawr.” Jared made a hissy noise and pinned her with a dark look. “I thought you were in a good mood this morning.”

  “I am.” Harper flashed him an apologetic smile as she opened the note. “I just … why did he leave me a note?”

  “I don’t know. What does it say?”

  “It says he’s hanging out with the people he met last night, that they’re having breakfast together and he’ll see me later.”

  To Jared, that was good news. “So, what’s the problem?”

  “He misspelled my name.”

  Caught off guard, Jared narrowed his eyes and stared harder at the note. “That’s weird. He spelled it Helper, like Hamburger Helper. He must have still been drunk when he wrote it.”

  That didn’t sound right to Harper. “He was only going to have one or two.”

  “We’ve all said that before.”

  “Yeah, but … he was so hungover after the other night that he swore he was never drinking again.”

  “We’ve all said that before, too. I said it quite often when I was in the academy.”

  “Right.” Harper wrinkled her nose. “In theory, what you’re saying makes sense. I don’t believe it, though. I think there’s something wrong.”

  “And what makes you say that?”

  “Because … he spelled my name wrong. He knows how to spell my name. He learned in kindergarten at the exact same time I did. In fact, he had an easier time learning to spell my name than I did his. Zs always screwed me up.”

  She was adorable when annoyed and Jared had to stop himself from petting her. “Is the letter in his handwriting?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well … how do you think he’s in trouble if he wrote the note himself?”

  “I don’t know.” Harper’s eyes fired with annoyance when Jared rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t do that. I’m not being a Nervous Nellie.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” Jared held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m simply trying to ascertain why you’re working yourself into a tizzy like this.”

  “A tizzy?” Harper’s eyebrows practically flew off her forehead. “I’m not in a tizzy.”

  “You’re worried.”

  “He almost died the other night. Excuse me for worrying about my best friend.”

  “Geez.” Jared had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling. That wouldn’t help his situation and the last thing he wanted was to engage in a fight. “He wrote the letter.”

  “And spelled my name wrong.” Harper pointed to “Helper” again. “He’s asking for help.”

  “Except there’s nothing in the letter that says he needs help,” Jared argued. “If he was in trouble, why not spell it out?”

  “Because someone was obviously watching him write the note.”

  “He was in the hallway, though,” Jared persisted. “If someone was with him, someone dangerous, he would’ve called out when passing our room. He would’ve yelled for help.”

  Harper opened her mouth to argue further and then snapped it shut. He had a point. “Well … maybe he was being selfless and trying to save me. He could’ve thought that I would be in danger if he yelled.”

  Jared eyed her with an unreadable look. Harper couldn’t decide if it was pity or annoyance he was feeling. “Heart … .”

  “You don’t believe me. I get it.” She threw her hands in the air, mimicking a motion Zander often made when he was at his limit. “Fine. I’ll find him myself.”

  “Hold up.” Jared grabbed her elbow before she could storm off. “Before you lose it, let’s check the dining room for him. If he’s not there, we’ll ask Quinn if we can watch the video footage of the hallway from last night. We’ll know pretty quickly who he was with when he came by.”

  “Oh.” Harper was momentarily placated. “I didn’t know we could do that.”

  “Quinn can do that. We can ask him to help us. I think that’s the smarter play than running off half-cocked.”

  “I’m not half-cocked. I’m not even a quarter-cocked.”

  “Good to know.”

  “I appreciate your help, though.” She sounded formal, as if she were talking to a traveling salesman, and it grated Jared.

  “Thank you, Ms. Harlow,” he drawled. “I’m glad to be of service.”

  She realized her mistake when it was too late to take it back. “You’re going to turn this into a thing, aren’t you?”

  “In the immortal words of Zander Pritchett, you have no idea, but you’d better prepare yourself.”

  Harper sighed. “I guess I had that coming.”

  “Definitely.”

  Eighteen

  Jared recognized Harper wasn’t in the mood to forgive him for not immediately jumping on the “Zander has been kidnapped” bandwagon. He was calm throughout breakfast, though, and he forced Harper to eat even though she was much more interested in staring at everyone in the dining room.

  “Heart, you need to stop this.” Jared was firm. “You’re being ridiculous. Zander is perfectly fine.”

  “If you say so.” Harper was chillingly blasé.

  “Heart ... .”

  “What?” Harper’s eyes flashed with fury.

  Jared leaned back in his chair as he regarded her. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of real anger when it came to his fiancée. “What do you want me to do?” he asked finally, caving.

  “I want you to go with Quinn,” she replied quietly. “I want you to find out where Mark Brady is. I want you to look at the video footage — like you promised — and see who was with Zander when he wrote that note. That’s what I want you to do.”

  Jared ran his tongue over his teeth. “Fine. I will do all those things. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find Zander.”

  He sighed. “Heart ... .”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Her tone was biting. “I’m serious about this, Jared. I’m going to find him. Something is wrong. I know it is.”

  “I would prefer you wait for me.”

  “No.”

  “Will you at least promise to stick close to Rowan so I know you’re not alone?”

  It was the desperate pleading in his eyes that did her in. “Fine.” Harper regrouped, holding her hands up to calm herself. “I will make sure I’m with Rowan so you don’t have to worry. That’s all I can promise you, though.”

  “I guess it will have to do.”

  “Yeah.” She rubbed her cheek before glancing at his plate. It was only half-emp
ty. “Finish your breakfast so we can go.”

  “Not unless you eat something.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Are you trying to kill me?” Jared’s voice whipped past fury before banking just as Quinn and Rowan arrived at the table.

  Quinn recognized the tension rolling between Harper and Jared and merely arched an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

  “Do you want me to strangle you?” Harper hissed, completely losing herself in the moment.

  “Now is not the time,” Jared offered, pinning Quinn with a quelling look. “Harper is having a bit of a ... mood. It’s probably best not to poke her unless you want to get mauled by a bear.”

  “I’m way past bear,” Harper warned.

  “What’s going on?” Rowan asked, legitimately concerned.

  “Harper thinks Zander is in trouble,” Jared replied. “I happen to disagree ... and we’re at a crossroads.”

  Adopting a pragmatic disposition, Rowan took the seat next to Harper. “Why do you think Zander is in trouble?”

  “Because he misspelled her name on a note,” Jared answered for his fiancée.

  “She was asking me,” Harper growled.

  “I was asking her,” Rowan agreed, her voice soothing. “What kind of note did he leave?”

  Harper handed over the note she’d been reading (and rereading over and over again) so Rowan could study it. Quinn looked at the piece of paper over his girlfriend’s shoulder and merely shrugged when he was finished looking at it.

  “I don’t see the issue,” the security guru said blankly.

  “Of course you don’t,” Harper drawled. “You’re a man.”

  “And here we go,” Jared muttered, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t think now is the time to push her, Quinn. She’s not going to take it well.”

  “I don’t understand why she’s so worked up.”

  “He misspelled my name,” Harper barked.

  “He did misspell her name,” Rowan agreed, thoughtful. “Helper. Maybe he was asking for help.”

  “That’s what I said,” Harper enthused, leaning closer to the other woman. “I want to look for him, find that Monica woman and ask her if she’s talked to him.”

  “I think we can manage that,” Rowan said.

  “I want him to check the video feed from our hallway last night to see who Zander was with,” Harper added, extending her finger in Quinn’s direction. “You can make him do that, right?”

  Rowan swallowed hard. There was such determination in Harper’s blue eyes she had no choice but to shift her gaze to Quinn and gauge his reaction. “I can ask,” she replied lamely.

  Quinn blew out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, geez.” He dragged a restless hand through his hair as he shifted from one foot to the other. “I’ll look at the footage,” he volunteered finally. “I’ll give it due diligence and make sure my men are on the lookout for Zander. That’s all I can do.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Harper said primly, squaring her shoulders. “I’ll handle the rest of it.”

  Quinn turned suspicious. “And exactly how are you going to handle it?”

  “Don’t you worry about that.”

  “I will worry about that,” he countered, firm. “What do you have planned?”

  “I’m going to find a ghost,” Harper replied, matter-of-fact. “I’m going to find a ghost, find my friend, and then do a little dance for Jared when it becomes clear that I’m right and Zander was in trouble the entire time.”

  “That sounds ... healthy,” Quinn said after a beat. “Stay out of trouble, though, and don’t do anything reckless.”

  Harper averted her gaze. “I never do anything reckless.”

  Jared made a growling sound deep in his throat.

  “What?” Harper protested. “I never do anything reckless ... without Zander by my side. That’s what I meant to say. I can’t do anything reckless because he’s missing and in danger.”

  “Yeah, that’s an interesting semantics argument,” Quinn deadpanned, focusing his full attention on Rowan. “You promised to be careful … for me. I expect you to follow through. Help Harper, but don’t do anything stupid. If you find something, call me and I will handle it.”

  Rowan nodded solemnly. “I promise to call you before getting into trouble.”

  “No, not before.” Quinn wagged a finger. “You call me instead of getting into trouble. Not before. I don’t like you insinuating that you’re going to get into trouble no matter what.”

  Rowan managed to hold off on rolling her eyes, but just barely. “I won’t get into trouble. You have my word.”

  “Thank you.” Quinn gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll be in touch if we see anything on the video footage. You do the same if you hear anything of note while questioning people.”

  Rowan perfunctorily bobbed her head. “Yes, sir.”

  “Cute.” He gave her another kiss before turning to Jared. “Are you ready?”

  Jared nodded as he held Harper’s gaze. “It’s going to be okay,” he said finally. “We’re going to find Zander. I’m sure he’s safe and will regale people with this story for years to come.”

  Harper didn’t crack a smile. “You should get going.”

  Jared’s heart hurt at her distant expression. “I love you, Harper, no matter how angry you are at me. I’m sorry you’re so upset.”

  She relented, but only a little. “I don’t want you spending your morning worrying about me. I have everything under control.”

  “I have no choice but to worry about you. That’s what love is.”

  “Yes, well ... good luck with your work.”

  “Good luck with your work too.”

  “Thank you.” She rested her hands on her lap as she waited for him to leave.

  On impulse, Jared grabbed the front of her shirt and hauled her up so he could kiss her senseless. He felt better after, even though they were both breathless. “I love you. Be good. Don’t leave Rowan’s side. If Zander really is in trouble and you find him, I’m looking forward to the dance.”

  Harper’s lips curved. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “You will.” He stood to join Quinn. “Keep in mind that you’re the most important thing to me. I will not make it if something happens to you.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to me.” Harper meant it. “We’re getting married. I can’t die before I let Zander act as our wedding coordinator. That wouldn’t end well.”

  Jared scowled. “He is not our wedding coordinator.”

  “I’ll let you tell him that.”

  “I will.”

  “Okay,” Harper smirked. “Be careful and make sure you come back to me.”

  Jared sobered. “Right back at you.”

  ROWAN, TRUE TO HER WORD, was gung-ho to help Harper track down Monica.

  “I think she’s our best place to start,” Rowan agreed. “Where do you want to look for her?”

  Harper tapped her bottom lip as she considered the question. “I don’t know. I was thinking that we could find out what room she was in, kick the door in, and then simply look for Zander at our leisure.”

  Rowan managed to keep a straight face, but just barely. “Well ... that’s an idea.”

  “I have to find Zander.” Harper was firm. “My heart is racing a mile a minute. I know he’s in trouble. I can feel it to my bones. There’s no other reason for him to misspell my name.”

  Rowan remained calm. “I can find out what room she’s in.”

  “Do you have to go through Quinn to do it?”

  Rowan shook her auburn head. “No. Demarcus can tell me. He has access because of the bar bills.”

  “Will he tell Quinn what we’re doing?”

  Rowan shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Do you care? I mean ... if they show up while we’re investigating they’ll probably yell, but it will be too late to do anything about it because we’re investigating.”

  “That is a very good point. Let’s get her room number.”


  “Come on.” Rowan gestured for Harper to follow, taking a shortcut through the bowels of the ship that was only accessible to employees. “Once we get the room number from Demarcus, we’ll stake out the room and decide what to do. I mean ... we can solve this without the guys. We’re both smart women.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  DEMARCUS WAS LESS THAN thrilled when Rowan showed up demanding room number information.

  “I’m not supposed to give you that information,” he whined, rubbing his forehead as if he were fighting off a terrible headache. “You know that.”

  “You’ve done it before,” Rowan argued.

  “Yes. The looks on your faces tell me I probably shouldn’t do it today, though.”

  “Why is that?” Rowan adopted what she hoped was an innocent expression. “We don’t have anything planned. We’re simply looking for Harper’s friend Zander. He seems to be missing.”

  “Again?” Demarcus arched an eyebrow. “You should get that guy a collar, Harper.”

  “I’ll consider it,” Harper said. “We need that room number first, though.”

  To buy himself time, Demarcus continued wiping down the counter and avoiding eye contact. “Why do you need the room number?”

  “Because that psychic is the last person I saw Zander with and I want him back right now.” Harper was at her limit, her emotions bubbling up to the point where they were threatening to take over, and her voice cracked. “He’s my oldest friend, my best friend. He’s like a brother to me ... except I actually like him. I can’t just ignore the fact that he might be out there and in trouble.”

  Demarcus opened his mouth but didn’t immediately say anything.

  “We’re not going to do anything stupid,” Rowan offered. “In fact, you’re more than welcome to tell Quinn and Jared what we’re doing if it will make you feel better to tattle.”

  “I would feel better if you didn’t call it tattling,” Demarcus countered.

  “Call it whatever you want.” Rowan didn’t back down. “Give us the room number, wait five minutes, and then call Quinn to tell him what we’re up to. I won’t get mad if you do it.”