“Do you two know each other?” Jared asked pointedly.
Zander started to shake his head, but the man emphatically nodded and threw him for a loop.
“Of course we know each other,” he said. “We surfed the rum runner wave together last night. Zan the Man was the hit of the party. By the way, you must be his friends.”
“We are,” Jared confirmed, shaking the man’s hand. “I’m Jared.”
“I thought your name was Sourpuss.”
“Excuse me?” Jared arched an eyebrow.
“Sourpuss,” the man repeated. “Zander said your parents hated you and gave you a crappy name and that’s why you’re always working out because you need to overcome it. Well, that and your circus nipples. He said you can hang things off them. Is that true?”
Jared shot an incredulous look toward Zander, who had the grace to look abashed.
“Some of this is starting to come back to me,” he lamented. “I do kind of remember talking about your nipples.”
“You and I are going to have words before this is all said and done,” Jared warned. “I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Zander waved off the potential diatribe and focused on Harper. “Let’s get something to eat. We’ll handle your problem after.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Harper said on a sigh. “She disappeared during the ‘Zan the Man’ talk. She’s gone.”
“Well, that will give us some time to come up with a plan for when she comes back,” Jared suggested.
Harper merely nodded. “Fine. I guess I’m hungry.”
“Nothing that will look gross if you throw it up,” Zander ordered.
“Listen, Zan the Man, I’ll eat what I want.”
“I really do like the sound of that name. I know you guys think it’s dorky, but I like it.”
“You would,” Jared said, putting his hand to the small of Harper’s back. “Come on. It’s time for lunch. Then we’ll strategize and figure this out.”
8
Eight
Despite hours of discussion, Jared felt as if he got absolutely nowhere with Zander. The man legitimately couldn’t remember what happened, which left Jared nowhere to turn for answers.
They spent the bulk of the afternoon on deck, Jared claiming a hammock and Harper crawling in with him even though her focus was elsewhere. No matter how he tried to get her to relax, it was a losing proposition. Harper had her eyes peeled for the ghost and Jared finally gave up and read a book until he felt weariness overtake her. When she drifted off into a nap, he took the opportunity to scan the deck.
“I know you’re angry,” Zander said, keeping his voice low from his spot on a lounger nearby. “I really didn’t mean for this to happen, though.”
Jared flicked his eyes to him and merely shook his head. “I don’t blame you for this.”
“You don’t?”
“No. You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”
“Yeah, but ... I’m a murder suspect.”
“You’re not.” Jared was firm. “That security guy had no choice but to question you. Quite frankly, we’re lucky that you weren’t a victim, too. So, no matter how down you’re feeling, keep in mind that things could’ve been a whole lot worse.”
Zander was silent for a moment, contemplative. “Did she really think I was dead?”
Jared’s fingers were gentle as they stroked down the back of Harper’s head. She slept hard no matter what was going on around her, so he knew she would be out for a bit and they were free to talk.
“We were both worried,” he replied finally, opting for the truth. “She was on the border of freaking out. I kept telling her everything was going to be okay because I honestly couldn’t imagine life if the alternative were true. There’s no doubt we were afraid, though.”
“Even you?”
Jared scowled. “You just want to hear me say it, don’t you?”
Zander enthusiastically bobbed his head.
“Fine. I was worried, too. Believe it or not, I like having you in my life. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a pain in my backside more often than not, but you’re a good guy. You’re also important to Harper. She wouldn’t get over it if something happened to you.”
“And rightly so.” Zander puffed out his chest. “I’m the center of her world.”
“We’re both the center of her world,” Jared corrected. “She needs both of us because ... well, because this is the life we’ve built. It involves all three of us.”
“And Shawn.”
“And definitely Shawn,” Jared agreed. “If Shawn wasn’t in our lives, you would be doubly intolerable. I can’t have that.”
“Oh, I can feel the love.” Zander mock clutched at his heart and then winked at Jared to let him know things were okay between them. “By the way, you hugged me.”
Jared’s scowl deepened. “I remember.”
“I think you love me, too.”
“Don’t push it.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
QUINN WAS WIPED BY THE time he met Rowan outside the dining room. He felt as if he’d been slogging his way through quicksand the entire afternoon, and all he could think about was some downtime with his favorite person. She looked equally tired when he caught up with her.
“Hey.” He dipped down to give her a kiss, pushing her hair away from her face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She nodded, although there was no light to her eyes.
“Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.” Quinn could take almost anything except Rowan being in pain. He wasn’t built to withstand that. “Tell me what’s going on. Did something happen with your father?”
“He’s doing research. He doesn’t know why I’m seeing multiple omens either.”
“Then why are you freaking me out?”
She met his gaze head-on. “Do you know how many different ways there are to sink this ship? How many legitimate multiple-casualty scenarios we could face? Sally and I made a list this afternoon and it isn’t pretty.”
The fear fist gripping Quinn’s heart eased as he stared at her. “That’s how you spent your afternoon?”
“We have to figure out what’s going to happen if we’re going to stop it.”
“Oh, geez.” Quinn looked to the sky, as if praying for patience to continue the conversation. “Okay, well ... how many?”
“A hundred and forty-two.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. We took every scenario we could come up with and there are a hundred and forty-two.”
“Can you give me some examples?”
“Well, there could be a fire that traps people in one part of the ship so they can’t escape. The good news on that one is that the ship probably won’t sink unless the fire makes it all the way to the bottom deck. We ran probabilities.”
“You ran probabilities, huh?” Quinn worked overtime to tamp down his frustration. “I can’t believe you spent the entire afternoon doing that.”
“That makes two of us. I’m going to have nightmares.” She poked at her eyes, which only served to tug on his heartstrings.
“Okay, you need to put these scenarios out of your mind because they’re not going to help.” He rubbed her shoulders to loosen the tension she was carrying there. “Come on. They’re having a New Orleans feast tonight in the dining room. You love crawfish.”
Rowan brightened considerably. “I didn’t know they were going Cajun in the dining room tonight.”
“I thought that would make you feel better.” He kissed her cheek and prodded her through the door, taking a moment to scan the room for signs of trouble before ushering her toward the buffet table. His gaze landed on a table toward the center of the room, to where three familiar faces sat. Zander, Jared, and Harper looked to be having a good time and, conveniently, there were open seats at their table. Since he’d never made it back to question Zander a second time, an idea began taking shape.
“I want to join those guys,” Quinn noted as he pointed toward the t
able.
Rowan looked up from the gumbo she was ladling and followed his finger. “How come?”
“Because the guy with the dark hair is the one who was sleeping on the deck.”
“I thought you said we needed a break from serious talk.”
“We’ll get a break. I just want to talk to them. I researched their group a little.”
“You told me that.”
“She can supposedly see and talk to ghosts.”
Rowan’s face remained blank. “So?”
“So, I want to see what she has to say.”
“But why?”
“Let’s just say I’m curious enough to volunteer a bit of time and ask a few questions. If you’re not up to it, though, I can shelve the plans until later.”
“No, it’s fine.” Rowan waved off his concern. “I could use a conversation that doesn’t revolve around the chandelier in here accidentally falling down and crushing a hundred people in one fell swoop.”
Quinn arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, you definitely need a break from that.”
JARED SAW ROWAN AND QUINN when they were still across the room and wasn’t surprised when they headed in their direction. He barely got a warning out for Zander and Harper before the couple grabbed chairs on the other side of the table.
“You don’t mind if we sit here, do you?” Quinn asked pointedly.
“Of course not,” Jared lied, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “The more the merrier. That’s what I always say, at least.”
“You never say that,” Zander fired back. “If that were true you wouldn’t complain when I climb into bed with you and Harper every Sunday morning.”
The look Jared shot Zander was withering, but the comic timing of the duo was enough to cause Quinn to relax, at least marginally.
“Obviously you guys spend a lot of time together,” Rowan noted, shifting her plate so she could have easier access to the gumbo. “I’m Rowan, by the way. I’m the ship’s photographer.”
“I remember you.” Harper smiled. “You took our photograph when we arrived.”
“Are you two together?” Jared asked Quinn.
“We are,” Quinn confirmed. “She’s my better half.”
“Oh, good grief,” Zander muttered, rolling his eyes. “Let me guess, you two are all lovey-dovey, too, huh?”
Quinn shrugged, unbothered by the question. “We like a good bit of schmaltz.”
“Great.” Zander pushed the shrimp on his plate around with his fork. “This whole vacation sucks.”
Harper half-heartedly patted his shoulder. “It will get better.”
“Definitely,” Quinn agreed. “What are the odds you’ll wake up next to a dead body two days in a row? Tomorrow will have to be better just by that merit alone.”
Despite himself, Zander chuckled, the sound utterly humorless. “You have a point.” He picked up one of the prawns by the tail and bit into it, waiting until he was finished chewing to speak again. “Have you found anything out about what happened to her?”
“We haven’t,” Quinn replied, opting for honesty. “I was going to track you down earlier, but I got distracted talking to some of the guests traveling with Tasha. That wasn’t her real name, by the way. It was Tara. She changed it years ago to go along with her magic shop persona.”
“I think she might have told me that,” Zander admitted as he rubbed his cheek. “I can’t remember, though. It’s all a blur.”
“How much did you drink?” Harper queried. “You can usually hold your liquor well enough not to black out. The only time I remember you blacking out is when we were in high school and had no idea how stupid we were being by drinking an entire bottle of Jim Beam.”
“I don’t know.” Zander pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. He was fidgety and couldn’t quite get comfortable. “I honestly don’t know how much I drank. I don’t think it was all that much.”
“Think hard,” Jared prodded. “What do you remember?”
“Just being at the bar. She was upset because the psychic said she was going to die. She paid him to take the curse off her, of course, and was angry at herself for doing it. She knew he was a grifter, but she was nervous enough that she said she would rather be safe than sorry.”
Quinn broke a breadstick in half and handed one side to Rowan, who was busily shoving gumbo into her mouth as if her life depended on it. If he had to guess, he figured she’d skipped lunch, which was not a habit he wanted her embracing.
“I talked to Brady,” Quinn volunteered after a beat. He had no idea why he was sharing information with the Michigan trio, but he was curious how they would react so he decided to go with his gut instinct. “He didn’t come right out and say he made up that nonsense, but he couldn’t remember who he said was going to die and he was nursing a hangover of his own.”
“Do you think he was drunk when he made the predictions?” Harper asked.
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m honestly not sure it matters. He was a real jerk and had no idea who Tasha was. He told so many different women they were dying that he forgot their faces.”
“Wait ... women?” Jared tilted his head to the side as he stuck out his tongue and panted for a second. “Sorry. I think my mouth is on fire.”
Harper giggled as he slammed half of his glass of water before breaking off to pant again. “He’s not used to spicy food. Sorry.”
“I hate to break it to you, but this isn’t spicy when it comes to New Orleans fare,” Quinn noted. “Our chef tames it down because true Cajun food will make you sweat through your shirt.”
“That’s a lovely visual,” Zander drawled. “Go back to the psychic guy. Do you think he’s involved?”
“I have no idea,” Quinn said. “He answered my questions, although grudgingly, and I have no proof he was there last night. I don’t have anything to hold him on.”
“What about cameras?” Jared asked. “I would think this ship would be full of them.”
“It is, but the ones on the deck aren’t always reliable after dark,” Quinn explained. “Up close to the actual structures, they’re pretty good. Toward the railings, they’re not great. We keep improving them, buying the better technology when it becomes available, but there’s no perfect system.”
“I guess I didn’t think about that.” Jared leaned back in his chair as Harper’s fingers snaked onto his plate to grab a crawdad. “Go ahead and eat all of them. I told you I wasn’t going to eat bugs no matter what.”
“They’re not bugs,” Harper argued.
“Technically they are,” Rowan countered. “They’re good bugs, though.” As if to prove it, she cracked one open and popped it into her mouth. “Our chef is from New Orleans and she keeps promising she’s going to take me there for the real deal. I’m looking forward to it.”
Quinn’s smile was indulgent as he watched her. “I swear, you could live off shellfish for your entire life. Every meal. You wouldn’t care.”
“This is true,” Rowan agreed. “Not fish, though.”
“Not fish. You hate fish.” Quinn turned his attention to the other side of the table and found Jared lost in thought. “What are you thinking?”
“You said that Brady told a bunch of women they were going to die. Does that mean he didn’t tell men the same thing?”
“I ... .” Quinn took a moment to think about his response. “You know, I’m not sure. Everyone I talked to who had a curse was female. That doesn’t necessarily mean he left men out, though.”
“I’m betting he didn’t want to run the risk of ticking off a guy,” Harper offered, grabbing another crawdad from Jared’s plate. “He probably assumes that women are more gullible, ready to fall for anything, and less likely to put a boot in his behind if they catch him being a jerk.”
“Then he’s never met you, Heart,” Jared teased, kissing her temple. “You would kick him hard.”
“I would,” she agreed, grinning.
“Is it important to find out if that g
uy puts curses on people?” Zander asked.
Quinn’s shoulders hopped. “I don’t know. Now that Jared mentions it, though, I wouldn’t mind finding out. It seems a little pointed if he’s only going after women. I’m curious enough to initiate a full background search on him.”
“Well, I can find out if he does the curse shtick with men,” Zander offered, taking everyone at the table by surprise.
“How are you going to do that?” Harper asked, curious.
“I figured I would just head over there and stroke his ego,” Zander replied. “He’s the center of attention, and it’s mostly women oohing and aahing over him. As Harper can testify, straight women love me. They’ll make it difficult for him to send me away.”
“Straight women love you?” Quinn asked, dubious. “Is that really a thing?”
“It’s definitely a thing,” Harper agreed. “People try to steal him from me all the time. He’s like a unicorn. He’s pretty ... and perfect ... and draws attention no matter how many people are around.”
Quinn looked to Jared for help. “What do you think?”
“I don’t see where it can hurt,” Jared replied, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Harper’s back as he stared at the gregarious psychic. “There’s something about that guy I don’t like. I don’t know that he’s dangerous, but if you go over there, Zander, make sure you don’t start drinking and lose your head.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Zander said. “I have no intention of drinking ever again. I mean ... ever. I’m going to message Shawn and have him throw out every bottle of liquor in the house.”
Harper snorted. “You always say that. In two days, you’ll be back to drinking.”
“I will not. I’m strong.” He thumped his chest for emphasis. “If I say I’m not going to drink, I’m not going to drink.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Jared encouraged. “I think you should go over there, though. Try to see if you can feel him out about the curse thing.”
“If he’s smart, he won’t be doling out curses on the heels of a woman’s death,” Quinn supplied. “I don’t think he’s that smart, though.”
Ghostly Seas: A Harper Harlow and Rowan Gray Mystery Page 8
