Ghostly Worries (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 4)

by Hart, Lily Harper

  “How much money are we talking?” Jared asked, exchanging a quick look with Harper before focusing on the agitated realtor. “This place is in bad shape, but its proximity to the river must make it somewhat valuable.”

  “She was paying four hundred dollars a month,” Jenny answered, slipping her key into the lock. “That was a hundred less than the asking price, but it’s not like we had anyone else interested. I warned her the price might go up later in the summer when tourists got desperate, but she was adamant she needed the cottage right away.”

  “This place looks to have been empty for a long time,” Jared said, walking through the front door as Jenny pushed it open. “Why not fix it up?”

  “You’ll have to ask the owners that.”

  “And who are the owners?”

  “It’s some company out of St. Clair,” Jenny replied. “I can look that up for you, but I can’t remember offhand. They own a lot of rental property, although thankfully they keep the rest of it up a lot better than this place. This one just seems to have fallen through the cracks.”

  “Email the contact information to me,” Jared instructed, his eyes busy as he scanned the tiny living room. “There’s not a lot of furniture in here. Just a couch and a chair. Why would Rosie want this place?”

  “I didn’t ask her because it was none of my business,” Jenny said, frowning. “I’m a real estate agent, not a therapist.”

  “That’s never stopped you from gossiping with people before,” Zander said, walking into the cottage behind Harper. “I would think you’d be keen to know what she planned on doing out here.”

  Jenny blew out a long-suffering sigh, causing her bangs to fly up. “Fine. I asked her what she had planned and she claimed she was writing a book and she needed the ambiance to get her creative juices flowing.”

  Jared arched an eyebrow as he swiveled. “A book? That’s the first I’m hearing about that.”

  “Probably because she was lying,” Jenny said. “I don’t like talking ill about the dead – and for the record, I had no idea Rosie was the one you found under that deck until I put two-and-two together when you asked to see the property – but she couldn’t focus on anything for more than five minutes. I’m also pretty sure she didn’t read anything heavier than magazines, let alone want to write anything.”

  “So why did she want the cottage?”

  “Because she wanted a private place to meet someone,” Harper answered, lost in thought as she studied the depressing room.

  “How do you know that?” Jenny challenged. “Don’t get me wrong, I thought the same thing, but you seem pretty certain.”

  Harper shrugged. “Think about it,” she said. “This place is isolated. Rosie already had her own apartment. If she needed this space it was because she wanted to spend time with someone without drawing attention to herself.”

  “That seems like a big leap,” Jared said. “I’m not arguing with your instincts, but we don’t know that yet.”

  “I know,” Harper conceded. “I have a feeling I’m right, though.”

  “I have a feeling you’re right too,” Jared said, heading toward the hallway on the other side of the living room. “How many bedrooms?”

  “Two.” Jenny fell into step with Zander and brought up the rear as the foursome made their way through the tiny abode. “It really could be a cool place if someone would fix it up. I have no idea why no one has done it yet.”

  “Yeah, it has some charm but it’s really small,” Jared said, flicking on the light in the bedroom and letting out a low whistle. “Well, this is different.”

  “What is it?” Jenny asked, pushing her way past Harper and walking into the bedroom. Her eyes widened when she saw the huge bed, which happened to be covered with red satin sheets and about eight pillows. “This was not here when I rented the place.”

  “That means she bought it and dressed it up,” Jared mused.

  “And there’s only one reason to buy a bed like this,” Zander said knowingly. “This is a sex bed.”

  “Aren’t all beds technically sex beds?” Jenny challenged.

  “Not in your house,” Zander shot back, sticking his tongue out. He had a tempestuous relationship with Jenny that stretched back to their high school years. She wasn’t a mortal enemy by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t a friend either. “That’s the word on the street anyway.”

  “Bite me,” Jenny hissed.

  “Rosie didn’t have any other names listed on the lease, right?” Jared refused to let the potential argument derail his investigation.

  “No, it was just her,” Jenny said.

  “Well, I guess we need to figure out who she was meeting here,” Jared said. “That’s the next order of business.”

  “For you maybe, but we have actual business to get to,” Zander said, tapping his bare wrist. “We’re due at the library, Harp.”

  “I guess we should start walking back,” Harper said as she turned to Jared. “Will you call me if you find anything?”

  “Yeah.” Jared gave her a quick kiss. “I wish I could drive you back, but I need to go through this place and see if there are any clues here.”

  “I can take them,” Jenny said. “I’m heading in that direction.”

  Zander narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “What’s the catch?”

  “You have to ride in the trunk.”

  Zander cocked his head as he weighed the potential threat and the grim reality of a walk through the humidity. “I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”

  “Then I’m going to expect you to beg before I let you in my car,” Jenny said, leaving the bedroom. “I might want to see some actual tears, too.”

  “Women.”

  “WELL, THAT went well.” Harper pushed her wet hair away from her face and fixed Whisper Cove’s librarian with a bright smile. “Do you want to pay by check or credit card?”

  For her part, Donna Jordan was having none of Harper’s faux enthusiasm. “Will you look at this place?”

  Harper’s smile was rueful as she took in the standing water in the library’s basement. It seemed Miss Swoosie, the ghost of the librarian who died in the building back in the seventies, ultimately didn’t want to go without a fight. Between the Ghostbusters jokes and Eric’s nonstop yammering in her ear about staying clear of the camera, Harper was at her limit when she finally managed to snag the persnickety ghost in the dreamcatcher two hours after the job began. This was after Miss Swoosie caused the toilet in the basement to overflow, a pipe to burst, and tipped over two bookshelves on the main floor.

  “I told you it might not go as planned,” Harper warned, making a face. Donna was friends with her mother and she was used to disappointing looks from women in that age group. “We caught her … eventually.”

  “And I didn’t even get wet or dirty this time,” Zander said, appearing in the doorway with a dubious look on his face. “You look like a drowned rat, Harp.”

  “I feel like a drowned rat,” Harper admitted, fruitlessly trying to dry her damp hands on her soaked shorts. “So, where did we land on the check thing?”

  “I’ll write you a check, but only because I can’t have this getting out and I know you’re likely to make a scene,” Donna said, shaking her head as she walked out of the bathroom. “You’re a mess, girl. I guess it’s good you already snagged your man.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I tell myself every morning when I look in the mirror,” Harper deadpanned, exchanging an annoyed look with Zander. “What is all of this stuff down here? Are you hoarding the good books or something?” She moved toward a stack of books on a library cart a few feet away.

  “Don’t touch those,” Donna warned, extending a finger. “Those are new books I ordered for a woman who requested them and I haven’t even gotten to them yet.”

  “They’re self-help books,” Harper said, ignoring Donna’s admonishment and picking the top one up. She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. She preferred a rousing mystery –
or even a hot love story – over non-fiction. “They’re about snagging a man with money.”

  “I didn’t pick them out,” Donna said. “You know I love my Emory.”

  Emory Jordan, Donna’s husband, was a nice guy with a drinking problem. Everyone in Whisper Cove loved him because he picked up the tab whenever he got lit. That was one of the reasons Donna was forced to continue working even though she obviously wanted to retire.

  Something niggled the back of Harper’s brain as she stared at the books and she glanced at Zander for confirmation. “What did Jared say about Rosie’s GPS when we were sitting in his car waiting for Jenny to show up?”

  “That it led him to the cottage,” Zander replied. He was already bored with the conversation. “You should really listen to your boy toy more often. You’re going to hurt his feelings if you’re not careful. He’s already worried about Jason the Jerkface swooping in and stealing you. If you ignore what he says he’s going to develop a complex.”

  Harper frowned. “I … what?”

  “Nothing,” Zander said, shaking his head as he realized too late that he should’ve kept his trap shut. “I’m just projecting my dislike for Jason on Jared. Why are you asking about the GPS?”

  “I know Jared mentioned the GPS leading him to the cottage, but I thought he said something about the library being on it, too,” Harper said. “It stuck out because I didn’t think Rosie was the type of woman who would go to the library. Jenny pretty much confirmed that.”

  “Oh, you know what, now that you mention it I think you’re right,” Zander said. “He did say something about the library.”

  “The woman who wanted these books,” Harper said, turning toward Donna. “Was her name Rosie, by any chance?”

  Donna shrugged. “I think it was. I would have to double-check, but that sounds right.” Harper described Rosie to be sure and Donna nodded when she was finished. “That’s her.”

  “So Rosie rented a cabin in the middle of nowhere and wanted self-help books on how to make a man with money love her,” Harper said. “It seems to me she had a specific person in mind when she did both of those things.”

  “Yes, but we don’t know who,” Zander pointed out.

  “I don’t suppose Rosie mentioned who she was dating when she stopped in, did she?”

  Donna shrugged, suddenly sober. “We’re talking about the girl they found under the deck, right?”

  Harper nodded.

  “I didn’t realize it was the same girl until now,” Donna said. “That’s too bad. She seemed nice but manic about dating and finding a man. It couldn’t just be any man either. It had to be a rich one. I told her my Emory wasn’t rich but that didn’t mean I loved him any less.”

  “How did she respond to that?”

  “Not well,” Donna replied. “She said that money was more important than love. If she could have both that would be great, but if forced to choose she would opt for the money every time.”

  “That’s kind of sad, huh?” Harper’s heart rolled as she considered what it must be like to exist with that sort of outlook on life.

  “Yeah, I figured she would outgrow that kind of thinking eventually,” Donna said. “She was young, after all. We all do stupid things when we’re young.”

  “I didn’t,” Zander argued, earning a cuff and shake of the head from Donna. “What? I was always smarter than everyone.”

  “Only in your own mind,” Donna said. “It’s too bad this girl never got a chance to get over herself. I thought she might when I saw her downtown last week. She was with a guy and they looked as if they were having a good time.”

  Harper’s shifted from one foot to the other, her interest piqued. “What guy?”

  “I honestly didn’t expect to see her with anyone because she seemed fixated on finding a rich guy and this guy looked middle-income at best,” Donna said. “Last week I was down at the bistro for dinner, though, and when I was leaving, I saw her by that restaurant that just opened up. She was talking to a guy … and laughing. I thought she might finally be getting somewhere.”

  Harper could barely contain herself. “What guy?”

  “I can’t remember his name,” Donna said, tapping her lip as she racked her brain. “He used to live here and just moved back. Um … Jason Thurman. It’s the guy who just opened the restaurant.”

  Harper’s heart plummeted at the news as surprise washed over her. “Are you sure?”

  “Honey, they don’t grow men who look like that on trees in these parts,” Donna said. “I’m sure it was him.”

  “Well … crap.”

  Thirteen

  In her head Harper knew she should go straight to Jared and tell him what Donna related to her. In her heart she had to question him herself, because she was worried if the finger pointed in his direction it would never shift away again.

  She found him in his restaurant, the front door open but the main dining room empty as he sat at a table and pored over some paperwork. She took a moment to study him, marveling at how handsome he’d turned out, and then squared her shoulders.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Jason glanced up, surprised by the interruption but thrilled by the guest. “Harper,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to you,” Harper said, taking a small step forward as she glanced around at the newly painted restaurant. “This place looks really great. You’ve done a marvelous job here.”

  “Thank you,” Jason said, knitting his eyebrows together. “Not that I’m not happy to see you – and please drop by whenever you get an inkling to visit – but you look as if you have something on your mind.”

  “I do,” Harper confirmed, pressing her lips together as she considered how to proceed. She hadn’t given much thought on how to approach Jason. She’d been more focused on ditching Zander without making him suspicious. It wasn’t easy, but when she mentioned walking back out to the cottage to talk to Jared, Zander excused himself quickly with some previously unmentioned numbers sheets that needed to be balanced back at the office.

  “Is this about Jared?”

  Jason’s question caught Harper off guard. “Jared? Why would I be here about Jared?”

  “I just thought … .” Jason caught himself before he said the wrong thing. “I don’t know. You two seemed to have a good time last night.”

  “We did,” Harper enthused, sitting in the chair Jason gestured toward and accepting the glass of iced tea he poured from the pitcher on the table. “The food was wonderful and the ambiance was nice. Jared was a little disappointed you didn’t have a longer dancing session, but somehow I think he’ll survive.”

  “We plan on getting a live band for weekend nights down the road, but I didn’t want that to overshadow everything right away so I told them no more than thirty minutes last night,” Jason said. “I’m surprised Jared is a dancer. He doesn’t look like a dancer.”

  “I was surprised, too, but he always manages to keep me on my toes.” Harper’s face lit up with a fond smile. “How did the opening go on your end? People seemed happy with the set-up.”

  “We got good feedback,” Jason replied. “We had a couple of snafus in the kitchen, but everything went great, for the most part. I think it’s going to be a good investment.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay, Harper, you’re obviously distracted,” Jason said. “You have a reason for being here. You might as well tell me what it is. I have a feeling I know but … I’d rather hear it from you.”

  “Okay.” Harper licked her lips. “Were you dating Rosie Sawyer?”

  Jason opened his mouth to answer and then snapped it shut, instead screwing his face up into a confused expression. “Who?”

  Harper couldn’t read his reaction so she repeated the question. “Rosie Sawyer. I have a witness who saw you with her by the restaurant several days ago.”

  “I don’t know who that is,” Jason said, confused.

  “That’s the dead
woman who was found under your deck.”

  “Oh.” Jason made a face. “I didn’t know her name. It’s not like there are daily newspapers around here. I didn’t realize the police had released her identity yet.”

  “I don’t think they have, but that’s not really the point,” Harper said. “I need to know if you were dating her.”

  “How could I be dating her if I don’t know who she is?”

  Harper shrugged. “Someone saw you with her in front of the restaurant a few days ago,” she said. “This individual said you were talking and acting as if you were on a date.” Harper fudged that last detail, but she figured there was no way Jason could call her on it.

  “I haven’t dated anyone since I got to town,” Jason clarified. “I’ve wanted to date someone, but I haven’t gotten around to asking yet. As for talking to a woman … I think I know who you’re talking about, but that was really a brief thing.

  “A woman approached me outside the restaurant,” he continued. “I think it was on Monday, but I can’t really remember. The days sort of meld together when you’re this busy. Anyway, she wanted to know if I had private rooms for couples where they could eat but be segregated from the rest of the guests. I told her that wasn’t a thing and then she asked about the restaurant and we got to talking. It was hardly a date.”

  “Oh.” Harper’s cheeks flooded with color. “I’m sorry. When I heard Rosie was talking to you I had to ask. I mean … she was found under your deck.”

  “I get that,” Jason said. “What I don’t get is why you beat around the bush to ask the question. Did you think I was hiding something from you?”

  Harper held her hands palms up and popped her shoulders up and down. “I didn’t know what to think,” she said. “I just knew I had to ask you about it because … well … I was worried you would become the prime suspect.”

  “So you came straight to me instead of Jared,” Jason mused, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I should be thankful for that.”