“It’s a party barn,” Mel corrected. “No one lives here.”
“Oh, well, that makes it so much better,” Jared drawled, dropping to his knees so he could study the trampled grass to his right. “Someone has definitely been out here. I wonder if we should call the state police and have them get an evidence team to grid the grounds.”
“I think that would be a tremendous waste of time,” Mel countered.
“And why is that?”
“I think you should see inside before I answer that question. You’ll probably understand the situation better if you look inside first.”
“Fine.” Jared hated it when Mel acted as if he knew something the younger police officer couldn’t possibly grasp. He scuffed his feet against the packed earth of the trail as he followed Mel to the big barn door. “I don’t see why we can’t just call the state police and have them give this place a good once over. It probably wouldn’t even take that long.”
“I’ll show you exactly why not.” Mel grunted as he tugged on the door and pulled it open, the bright sunshine flooding the large space with enough light that Jared could poke his head inside and immediately see why Mel thought bringing the state police into the investigation was a bad idea. “Now do you see?”
Jared groaned when he realized what they were dealing with. The barn was littered with discarded plastic cups and trash, the entire two-story structure serving as a smorgasbord of possible clues and red herrings. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Now you see.” Mel smirked. “This place is full of DNA – probably some we don’t want to think about how it got here – and other stuff.”
“Like condoms.” Jared made a face as he pointed toward what was clearly a used condom on the ground. “This place is disgusting.”
“It’s definitely disgusting,” Mel agreed as he slowly began walking through the barn. “We need to get the organizers out here to get this place cleaned up. They can’t leave it like this.”
Jared was back to being confused. “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying. Why would people come back and clean?”
“Because that’s part of the rules for using this place.”
“It’s abandoned, though.”
“Yes, but there are still rules.” Mel met Jared’s curious gaze and heaved out a sigh. “Like I said, the annual Halloween party has been going on for a very long time. Every year a group of kids – I call them kids, but they’re actually young twenty-somethings – decide to be the ones to organize the party.
“As part of the deal – which is unsaid, but everyone manages to follow the rules – the kids are responsible for cleanup before and after the party,” he continued. “They have to be diligent about the trash, too, because otherwise this place will become infested with scavengers.”
“You’re talking like rats and stuff, aren’t you?” Jared grimaced as he darted his gaze into the corners of the barn. “Great. Now I won’t be able to get the idea that rats are running around out of my head.”
“That’s because you’re kind of a little girl at times,” Mel teased. “As for evidence, I’m not sure what we can expect to find here. Maggie was strangled, not stabbed, so isolating DNA evidence we’re sure is from her is going to be downright impossible.”
“We should still look around in case anything stands out.”
“We definitely should,” Mel agreed. “There’s no time like the present to start. I’ll hit the main floor and you head upstairs.”
Jared swallowed hard and eyed the dusty second floor with overt distaste. “Why do I have to handle the second floor?”
“You’re younger and I’m the boss.”
“You just don’t want to go up there.”
“Which is why, as your superior, I’m ordering you to do it.”
“Ugh.” Jared was disgusted as he picked his way through the barn. “I already know I’m going to hate this.”
“At least you’re in a good mental place,” Mel said brightly. “Just make sure you watch where you step.”
“Oh, gross. There’s a cheeseburger on the floor over here.”
“It could be worse. Trust me.”
“I DON’T THINK you’re listening to me.”
Zander was irritated at being back at the cemetery so early in the morning – especially when the grass was frosted over and his fingers cold – and he was in the mood to take it out on Harper.
“I’m listening to you,” Harper shot back, refusing to meet her friend’s even gaze as she stared at the police tape that marked off the area where Maggie’s body was found. “I just don’t happen to agree with you.”
“I think that’s your biggest problem in life,” Zander groused. “You don’t listen to me as much as you’re supposed to. It’s frustrating and leads to issues.”
Harper stilled long enough to glance over her shoulder. “What issues are you referring to? I don’t have any issues.”
“Oh, you have issues.” Zander scuffed the soles of his shoes over the cobblestone walk. “I’m talking about painting your kitchen pink. I know you think it’s a bad idea – probably because Jared fancies himself too manly for a nice salmon color that will warm the cockles of his cold heart – but I think you should consider it.”
Harper narrowed her eyes until they were nothing but glittery blue slits. “Have you ever considered that you’re a complete and total pain in the posterior when you want to be?”
Zander wasn’t bothered in the least by the comment. “Pink is going to be huge on those home improvement shows in the near future. Just you wait. It will be already too late for you by then because you’ll have picked a stupid color like custard or banana, but I’ll remember … which essentially means I won’t let you forget this moment.”
“Oh, whatever.” Harper was tired of talking about interior design. “I was thinking of going with blue.”
“Blue?” Zander was incredulous. “Do you want to be depressed?”
“Obviously so since I brought you to the cemetery with me,” Harper grumbled as she moved away from the spot where Maggie’s body was discovered and fixed her attention on the mausoleum across the way. She was immediately caught off guard when she read the name on the building out of habit. “Huh.”
Sensing a change in her demeanor, Zander shifted so he was facing his best friend. “What are you ‘huh-ing’ about?”
Harper pointed at the mausoleum. “That.”
“What about it?”
“Read the name on the top.”
“Ezra Standish.”
Harper waited for Zander to put it all together.
“I don’t see why that’s important,” Zander said finally. “Is it because it’s a biblical name?”
“Oh, geez.” Harper slapped her hand to her forehead. “You really are slow sometimes. Ezra Standish is the former owner of the Standish barn, which just so happens to be the last place Maggie Harris was seen alive.”
“Oh.” Zander furrowed his brow and cuffed the back of Harper’s head when she walked in front of him. “Don’t ever call me ‘slow.’ I’m fast like lightning.”
Harper snorted as she kept going in the direction of the mausoleum. “Yes, you’re the Pink Lightning. That’s your new superhero name.”
“I like it.” Zander followed Harper, peeling off so he could look through the mausoleum window before fixing her with a curious stare. “Do you think that it’s something other than a coincidence that Maggie’s body was found close to the Standish mausoleum? If so, I’m going to be honest even though you probably don’t want to hear it. I think you’re reaching. Ezra Standish has been gone since before we were even born.”
“I know.” Harper thoughtfully tapped her bottom lip. “It seems too weird to be a coincidence, though. I mean … what are the odds?”
“I think you’re grasping.”
“No, I really want to know what the odds are,” Harper pressed. “You’re good with numbers. What are the odds it was a coincidence?”
“I honestly don’
t know,” Zander replied after a beat. “It would take me some time to figure it out. I’m willing to do that for you, though, if you’re willing to consider pink for your kitchen.”
Harper let loose a face that even a best friend couldn’t love. “I will never paint my kitchen pink. You know I don’t like the color pink.”
“Only because I made that joke about you looking like Princess Hubba-Bubba when we were teenagers and you tried on the pink prom dress. I think you should be over that by now.”
Harper pointed her finger at Zander, her expression dark. “You agreed never to bring up that dress again. We were going to take that image to the grave with us.”
“Well, I forgot we made that agreement. That doesn’t really matter, though. That is not the pink I was talking about. I was suggesting something with a hint of peach to it, something that literally makes you smile when you see it.”
“McDonald’s breakfast sandwiches make me smile when I see them, but I’m not going to paint my kitchen the color of Ronald McDonald’s hair either.”
“Just … consider it.”
Harper wanted to wrestle Zander down and put a handful of dirt in his face, but she refrained … mostly because she knew she would never hear the end of it if she got dirt on his favorite pair of jeans. “No. Pink is off the table. You consider blue.”
“I don’t like blue.”
“Since when?”
“Since I decided pink was the color your new kitchen wants to be,” Zander replied without hesitation. “I’m not joking, Harp. I can hear spaces inside homes speak and your kitchen is one of those spaces. It wants to be pink.”
“Oh, whatever.” Harper didn’t bother to hide her eye roll as she licked her lips and stared at the mausoleum. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.” She decided the only way to escape the kitchen conversation was to force Zander to focus on something new. “I think we need to try something different.”
“I agree.” Zander was solemn. “You’re finally seeing things my way. I can’t tell you how relieved I am about that. Let’s go to Home Depot right now.”
Harper scowled. “Not that, you ninny!” She lightly smacked the back of his head. “I’m talking about Maggie Harris. You remember the woman who was murdered, right? Her needs are a lot more important than our needs right now.”
“You can’t live your life for others … even if those ‘others’ are dead.”
Harper made a gagging sound in the back of her throat. “I hate it when you decide to be a fortune cookie out of nowhere.”
“As if I would ever be some random fortune cookie.” Zander was understandably offended. “What are you even talking about if not the kitchen paint?”
“Maggie.” Harper was at the end of her rope. “We came here because we found her body here two nights ago. We were hoping if her ghost remained behind that it would be here. That might not be the case, though, because there’s a very good chance that Maggie didn’t die here.”
“Oh.” Realization slowly dawned on Zander. “Ghosts usually hang close to where they died, not necessarily where their body was discovered. You’re very smart.” He lightly tapped the end of Harper’s nose. “That means we need to go to the Standish barn.”
“That’s exactly where we need to go.”
Zander heaved out a sigh. “Fine. If it’s gross in there, though, you’re on your own.”
“I’m well aware of your cleanliness rules.”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do.” Harper also knew that Zander wouldn’t abandon her in the barn with a ghost possibly close by and a murderer on the loose no matter how dirty it was. He simply liked to complain. “We should head out there now. If we expect to get answers, Maggie is the one person who can give them to us.”
“So … let’s do it. On the way out there, we can stop by Home Depot since it’s right on the way and get some paint samples.”
“Ugh.” Harper was beyond exasperated. “When are you going to let this go?”
“When your kitchen is pink.”
“So … never?”
“If that’s how you want it to be.”
“I’ve only been up two hours and I already need a nap.”
“Try taking some vitamin D supplements. They’ll make you feel better … as will a pink kitchen.”
“I can’t even look at you right now.”
7
Seven
Harper made a face upon exiting Zander’s vehicle in front of the Standish barn and catching sight of Mel’s cruiser.
“I guess we weren’t the only ones who thought it was a good idea to check this place out, huh?” Zander didn’t bother to look at Harper, instead focusing his attention on the paint samples he held in his hand. “This is called Heartbreaker. What do you think of it?” Zander held up a color that made Harper involuntarily shudder.
“I think my heart would break having to look at that color for the rest of my life.”
Zander offered an exaggerated expression that was both twisted and somehow cute. “The rest of your life? You only stick with a kitchen color for three years. Give me a break.”
Harper abandoned her interest in the barn and focused on Zander. “Since when is that the rule?”
“It’s always been the rule. Everyone knows you get bored of a color in three years.”
“I’ve never heard that rule.”
“You never heard the rule about not making a slurping noise when sharing my soda at the movie theater either and yet some things should just be common sense.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m not painting my kitchen that color. It’s never going to happen.”
“Do you want to bet on it?”
“Sure.” Harper turned back to the barn and pulled up short when Mel and Jared walked through the open door. They looked as surprised to see Harper and Zander as the ghost-hunting duo was to see them. “Hey.”
“Hello, Heart.” Jared recovered quickly. “Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here?”
“Looking for Maggie’s ghost.” Harper saw no reason to lie. “We went to the cemetery first, but we have no way of knowing if Maggie was killed there and since we know she was still alive – at least for a little bit – while here, this seemed like the place to start.”
“Oh, well, smart.” Jared was used to hearing about ghosts so he didn’t even blink an eye at Harper’s explanation. “Anything yet?”
“We just got here. The only thing we’ve had time to do is argue about paint colors.”
“Ah.” Jared shifted his eyes to Zander and frowned when he saw the paint strip Zander was staring at. “I will never agree to that color.”
“There are four colors on here,” Zander pointed out.
“And they’re all so ugly I wish I was color blind.”
“Ugh. You have no taste.” Zander focused on Harper. “Don’t listen to him. I think Heartbreaker is the way to go.”
“I’m going to pass.” Harper turned a pretty smile to Jared. “You’re not going to give us grief about being here, are you? I was a little worried when I saw your cruiser, but then I figured you would probably be fine with it so … you’re fine with it, right?”
Jared was amused despite himself. “Would you stop if I wasn’t?”
“No.”
“Then I’m fine with it.” Jared arched an eyebrow when he realized Zander and Mel were discussing paint colors, their heads tilted together as they stared at the brightly-colored strips. “We’re not picking any of those colors.”
“This one really isn’t that bad,” Mel argued, snagging the sample from Zander’s hand and holding it up. “It’s called Pink Cadillac. What’s classier than that?”
“Whatever.” Jared placed his hand at the small of Harper’s back. “Come on. I’ll go back through the barn with you. It’s absolutely filthy. I want to make sure you don’t accidentally trip and get hepatitis.”
Harper beamed. “That’s the best offer I’
ve had all day.”
“UGH. WHAT A HOLE.”
Zander was beside himself when he saw the state of the barn.
“That’s pretty much what I said.” Jared leaned against the wall as he watched Harper pick her way through the garbage. “Heart, be really careful. You could get something disgusting – and potentially incurable – if you touch the wrong thing.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse than this,” Harper noted. “I’ve even seen this place looking worse than this. Who ran the party this year, though? They’re supposed to clean before leaving.”
“That’s a good question and I’m trying to find out the answer.” Mel grabbed a garbage bag from the bar counter and opened it. “We could do a little something to clean things up before we leave, though, just to make sure there’s no food around.”
“I don’t see why the food is such big deal.” Zander wrinkled his nose. “It’s the stale beer that smells.”
“Yes, Milwaukee’s Best.” Harper was amused as she scented a cup. “Ah, it brings back fond memories of college parties.”
“You must have been going to parties without me because I never attended a party where they served Milwaukee’s Best,” Zander complained.
“You did. You just didn’t know it. In fact … .” Harper broke off as a hint of movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She tilted her head to the side and focused on a dark corner of the upstairs loft. “Huh.”
Jared followed her gaze. “Do you see something?”
Harper nodded.
“A ghost?”
Another nod.
“Is it Maggie?” Mel was the one who asked the obvious question. “If she could point us to who hurt her, that would be great.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” Jared sneered.
“I don’t, but if Harper can point us in the right direction, I’m always happy to listen.”
Harper shook her head as she stared at the dark figure. It was more of a shadow than a fully-formed ghost, although Harper had no doubt she could change that if she pushed hard enough. “It’s not Maggie.”
Jared stilled, surprised. “What do you mean? Are you saying there’s another ghost up there? Should we be looking for another body?”
Ghostly Distress (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 9) Page 6
