“What are you guys doing here?” Quinn asked, his eyes flashing dark when he recognized the two women approaching their table in the tiki bar. He and Jared were plotting Brady sightings on a program on his computer ... and coming up with more questions than answers.
“And I love you, too,” Rowan drawled, rolling her eyes.
Quinn held up his hands in mock defeat. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Whatever.” She momentarily turned petulant before shaking her head. “We got some information.”
Quinn stared at her for a long beat. “I’m looking forward to hearing it ... after you get over being irritated with me.”
“Who says I’m irritated with you?” Rowan’s tone was breezy but the way she folded her arms over her chest told Quinn he was in trouble.
“I can tell you’re irritated with me,” he said quietly, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and giving it a little squeeze to cajole a smile out of her. When it worked, he returned the smile. “I wasn’t insinuating that I wasn’t happy seeing you. I simply thought you were spending the afternoon at the spa.”
“We did spend the afternoon at the spa,” Rowan shot back. “It’s almost five.”
“It is?” Quinn flicked his eyes to the clock behind the bar and frowned. “I had no idea it was that late.”
“We also came across someone whom you might be interested in,” Rowan added. “Someone who knew Mark Brady before he became the psychic to the stars.”
Quinn stilled, intrigued despite himself. “Are you serious?”
Rowan nodded. “Of course, I could head back to the spa like a good little girl if you’re otherwise engaged.”
Quinn glowered at her. “This is going to come back and bite me, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea.”
He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair before wrapping an arm around Rowan’s waist and tugging her into the booth seat next to him. “Tell me, most beautiful woman in the world, what information you managed to glean.”
“I don’t think you put enough effort into that tone,” Rowan complained, although she grinned when he made chomping noises against her neck. “Stop,” she whined, giggling. “You know that gives me chills.”
“That’s why I do it.”
“Stop.” She put a hand on his chest and fixed him with a firm look. “This is inappropriate for a workplace setting.”
“Oh, there’s my little prude.” Quinn beamed as Harper slid into the booth seat with Jared across the way. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”
“Ha, ha.” Rowan rolled her eyes. She was only mildly annoyed, and she leaned into Quinn to absorb his warmth for a moment before turning back to the conversation at hand. “So, we ran into a woman who went to high school with Mark Brady.”
“Her name was Destiny,” Harper offered helpfully.
“Seriously?” Jared slid her a sidelong look. “That seems ... unlikely.”
“I don’t think her real name is Destiny, but it probably won’t be hard to track down,” Harper said. “They both grew up in Des Moines, and apparently Brady’s father was a confidence man.”
“What’s a confidence man?” Quinn asked, confused.
“A conman,” Rowan answered without a beat. “A grifter, a user, a manipulator.”
“Thank you, Wikipedia.” He tweaked her nose, genuinely amused. “How did you know that?”
“I didn’t. Harper told me.”
Jared’s steady gaze landed on Harper. “How did you know that?”
“Zander makes me watch a lot of television.”
“And what show did that term come up on?”
“Lost. Sawyer was a confidence man.”
“And they say you can’t learn anything from television,” Jared teased, sliding his arm around Harper’s slim waist and nudging his iced tea in her direction. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”
Harper made a face. “I wasn’t drunk.”
“You were a little tipsy.”
“Well, I’m fine now. I drank cucumber water.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Harper waved her hand. “We left Zander at the spa with Destiny. He wasn’t done getting pampered and she liked hearing herself talk so he might get more down the line. I told him to be ready for dinner at six.”
“What about you guys?” Rowan asked. “Did you find anything?”
“I don’t know,” Quinn answered honestly. “What we found was ... weird.”
“Definitely weird,” Jared echoed.
“Well, we’re going to need more information than that,” Harper prodded.
“We have multiple people claiming they saw Brady this afternoon.”
“Really?” Harper’s eyebrows hopped. “Where?”
“At about twenty different locations on the ship,” Quinn answered. “He was sighted on the lido deck ... and by the shuffleboard games ... and in the stores ... and in the bars inside ... and even on the third floor wandering down a hallway.”
“But ... how is that possible?” Rowan asked, confused. “I guess, in theory, he could’ve moved between those places in a short amount of time. Not all of them, though. Are your witnesses reliable?”
“Our witnesses are Brady’s curse victims,” he replied. “We tracked them down here and they were going off about what a scammer he is.”
“Do you think they’re somehow involved?” Harper asked, her mind busy. “I mean ... you don’t think they did this together, do you?”
The notion hadn’t crossed Quinn’s mind, but now he was mildly intrigued. “I don’t know. I would think that unlikely, but I can’t completely rule it out. I guess it’s possible that they were all so enraged by what he did that they grouped together and threw him off the ship.”
“That’s not possible,” Rowan argued. “He still has the danger omen, not the death omen. If he were tossed off the ship, he would be dead.”
Quinn stroked his hand down the back of her head. “I didn’t think about that. Although ... it’s possible he didn’t die when he hit the water. He could still be out there, floating.”
“And the odds of anyone finding him?” Rowan challenged. “You told me that was virtually impossible.”
“It is.”
“So, he would have the death omen.” She refused to back down. “I checked before we hit the spa. He still has the danger omen. That means he’s not dead.”
“Okay.” Quinn held his hands up in capitulation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you riled up.”
“I’m still trying to understand these omens,” Harper interjected in an effort to keep the duo from fighting. “What happens if we somehow save Brady? Does the omen disappear?”
Rowan nodded.
“Then that means the same for the mass casualties,” Jared noted. “If we change something, somehow affect the outcome, it will show up on the photographs.”
“Exactly. That’s the goal. We can’t simply forget about Brady, though. He’s out there.”
“He might be tied to this,” Jared suggested. “Maybe everything is part of the same story ... although I’m not sure how. I’m talking about Tasha dying, Brady disappearing, and whatever the mass-casualty event is.”
“I think that’s possible, but I’m not sure it behooves us to investigate everything as if it's tied together in case it’s not,” Quinn said. “I think we should take everything separately, and if it fits together at the end, great. If it doesn’t, we won’t have lost any time.”
“Time is the issue, though, isn’t it?” Jared pointed out. “We don’t have a lot of time. Whatever is going to happen will be soon. There are only a few days left on the cruise.”
“There are,” Quinn agreed, pressing his forehead in frustration. “I’m not sure where to look next.”
“I am.” Jared flashed a smile. “We take the information Harper and Rowan got for us and look into Brady’s background. We can’t move forward on Tasha’s murder or the poten
tial catastrophe, but we have actual information on Brady. We need to focus on that. We might find something of interest.”
“We can do that,” Quinn agreed, his eyes slowly tracking to Rowan. “What are you guys going to do? We still have an hour and a half before dinner.”
“We’re going back to my room so I can talk to Dad,” Rowan replied without hesitation. “He said he was going to call — and in about fifteen minutes — so I’m hoping he has information to help us.”
Quinn pursed his lips. “That sounds like a plan.”
“So, basically we’re splitting again until dinner,” Jared said. “We’ll compare notes then.”
Harper nodded as she leaned in to give him a kiss. “This is kind of fun, huh? It’s like we’re spies trying to save the world.”
Jared chuckled. “That’s not exactly what I was thinking, but if that floats your boat, more power to you.”
“I think it sounds fun.”
“You would. Don’t forget to collect Zander before dinner. I don’t want him wandering around on his own after dark. He could get in trouble, and nobody needs that.”
Harper offered up a saucy salute. “Yes, sir.”
“You may think that’s sarcastic, but I find it hot,” Jared shot back.
“You’re kind of a pig that way, sir.”
His grin was slow and sly. “I am. You’ll have to punish me for it later.”
“Oh, geez.” Quinn rolled his eyes to the sky. “I hope this isn’t how we sound to others when we’re flirting.”
“I’m sure it’s not.” Rowan patted his knee under the table. “I’m certain we’re the exception to that rule.”
“We’d better be.”
ROWAN WAS NERVOUS AS she clicked the link to join the video call with her father. Harper had thoughtfully offered to leave her alone for the conversation, but Rowan wanted the woman close in case she thought of important questions to ask. This might be their only shot for a conversation before trouble found them … and in a big way.
Paul’s face flashed into view seconds later, and his smile was so large it took up nearly half the screen. “Hello, Rowan.”
“Hi, Dad.” Rowan shifted on her chair, nervous. “How are you?”
“We’re fine. We’ve been digging deep on The Phoenix Society and have found a few tidbits, but they can wait until we get you through ... well, whatever it is we need to get you through.”
“We’re not alone,” Rowan said quickly, gesturing for Harper to join her. “This is Harper Harlow.”
Paul’s smile faded. “Um ... maybe I should call back later.”
“It’s fine,” Rowan said hurriedly. “Harper is helping me with this. Um ... she is different, too.”
“Totally different,” Harper agreed, offering up a half-wave. “For the record, I’m glad you didn’t try to kill anyone when you came back from the dead.”
Rowan’s cheeks burned as Paul fixed her with a harsh glare. “She didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Her boyfriend came back from the dead a few months ago and the first thing he tried to do was kill her. It’s a whole big thing.”
“Huge thing,” Harper agreed, throwing herself in the chair next to Rowan and grinning at Paul. “I’m glad to know that you’re not trying to kill anyone.”
“Yes, well ... .” Paul licked his lips, unsure how to proceed.
“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 cat
astrophe. 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.”
Ghostly Seas: A Harper Harlow and Rowan Gray Mystery Page 14
