Seventeen
Zander watched Jared chase Harper toward the door, shaking his head even as a small smile played at the corners of his lips.
“That’s your friend, right?” Monica asked, sidling up beside him.
Zander sipped his cocktail – he was drinking in moderation this evening – and nodded. “My best friend.”
“And the guy with her, he’s a police officer, isn’t he?”
The question caught Zander off guard. “I … how do you know that?”
She tapped the side of her head, amused. “I’m psychic, remember?”
Zander was willing to play the game to a certain point, but he had trouble believing Monica was truly psychic. “I think you’re good at reading people,” he said after a beat. “I think you watch the crowd and pick people who are rather obvious so it’s easier to pretend you have special powers.”
“Do you think you’re obvious?”
Zander shrugged. “I think I’m easy to read. I don’t try to be coy. That’s not who I am.”
“And your friend?”
“What about her?”
“What if I told you I could see inside her soul, too?”
“I would say she wears every emotion she has on her face,” Zander replied without hesitation. “She’s always been that way.”
“Since you were kids and bonded over milkshakes?”
Zander snorted. “You overplayed your hand. We never bonded over milkshakes. We preferred twist cones dipped in sprinkles with a cherry on top at the Dairy Queen. Sometimes we had them dipped in chocolate, but generally it was the sprinkles because they were as colorful as our personalities.”
“Oh, that’s kind of cute.” Monica’s smile was genuine. “Perhaps you’re right about me reading people. Right now, for example, I think you’re so dedicated to your friend that you’re happy for her even though she abandoned you for the evening … again.”
Zander shrugged, noncommittal. “I’m always happy for her when it’s appropriate. This would be one of those cases. She’s happy. They’re happy. I’m happy for them.”
“Even though you’re alone?”
“I’m not alone. This cruise simply came at the wrong time. My boyfriend couldn’t get any time away from work. I guarantee, the next trip we plan like this, he’ll be with us.”
Monica stared at him for a long time, her gaze searching. Finally she smiled and patted his arm. “Well, good for you. Do you want to tell your fans another story? I think they’re champing at the bit.”
Zander brightened considerably. “I do love a good story.”
Monica snorted. “I never would’ve guessed. Come on. I’m thinking a ghost story, one featuring your blond friend is in order.”
“Oh, I have plenty of those to choose from.”
ROWAN AND QUINN WERE quiet when they got back to her room. They changed into sleep clothes, checked the photographs to see if there were any changes, and then rolled into bed. Even though they were both exhausted, sleep didn’t claim either of them right away.
“Are you leaning toward any of our suspects?” she asked quietly as he stroked her back, her cheek resting against his chest.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Quinn stretched, making sure to keep her close as he rearranged their bodies to get more comfortable. “I honestly don’t know. I think Destiny is fairly interesting. The fact that she felt the need to blab to you guys in the spa makes her suspect.”
“She left out pertinent information, though.”
“She did, which only makes me more suspicious of her,” he admitted. “Profilers believe that there’s a certain type of unsub who tries to insert himself – or herself, as the case may be – into an investigation.”
“I watch Criminal Minds, too,” Rowan teased, giggling when he poked her side.
“It’s true, though,” Quinn continued. “The sort of person we’re talking about thinks they’re smarter than law enforcement, smarter than us in this case. They want to hear the information we know and play public perception in their favor.”
“So, you think she could’ve told us that story to taint our opinion of Brady,” Rowan mused, tracing her finger over Quinn’s muscular chest.
“I think it’s possible she knew who you were from the start. I mean that you’re my girlfriend, that is. She probably realized who I was and was perhaps hoping you would be her way to get information through me.”
“And she thought she could spin us?”
“Maybe. Of course, she might be innocent. Brady had so many enemies that I would need a dry erase board to keep track of them all. She’s hardly the only person that wanted to do him harm.”
“He’s not dead, though.” Rowan was firm. “I checked right before I put my computer away. He doesn’t have the death omen. He’s alive … wherever he is.”
“I have to think that he’s holed up in someone’s room,” Quinn admitted, rubbing his cheek against Rowan’s forehead as he worked things out in his head. “Whether that’s voluntary or not, I can’t say. He’s in trouble, so I would lean toward him being held against his will. It’s always possible, though, that he has a partner who is hiding him and that something else is going on.”
“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“Well, I thought I would wake up next to the prettiest woman in the world for starters.”
Rowan rolled her eyes. “I’m starting to get why people think we’re disgusting.”
He chuckled. “Me, too.”
“I’m being serious, though. We need to make headway on this, Quinn. I have a bad feeling.”
“I know.” He sobered. “Tomorrow morning I’m going to check the rooms belonging to the people on our list. I’ll make up a plumbing emergency to go inside if I have to. They won’t stop me.”
“And what if he’s not in one of those rooms?”
“I don’t know.” That was the truth. “I agree that we’re running out of time. I have a bad feeling, too, and you’re in the center of that bad feeling.”
“That’s not a very romantic sentiment.”
“Not that way,” he chided, shaking his head. “You’re at the center of my fear. I’m so worried you’re going to be in the middle of things when they go down I can’t see straight.”
“We already talked about this. I’ll do my best.”
“I know. I’m not trying to guilt you.”
“You can’t freak out about this,” she said calmly. “It will distract you. We’ll both be careful … and go from there. That’s the best we can do.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not the best I can do.” Quinn’s smile was so large it eclipsed his features when he flipped them both over and rolled on top of her. “I think we both need something to relax us before sleep.”
Rowan matched his grin. “I’m guessing you have something in mind.”
“Such a smart girl.”
“Smart and pretty, right?”
“The smartest and prettiest.”
“Okay. Wow me. I could use it.”
“Your enthusiasm is only one of the things I love about you.”
A NIGHT OF ROMANCE was just what the doctor ordered.
Harper woke relaxed, refreshed, and ridiculously comfortable. She was ready and raring to go. She had a ghost to find, after all. The focus so far had been on Brady’s disappearance, not Tasha’s murder. She was the only one who could force momentum for Tasha, and that’s exactly what she planned to do.
“Don’t even think about moving,” Jared mumbled against the back of her neck, his breath warm as it tickled her ear. “I’m not ready to greet the day yet.”
Harper remained where she was, torn. “I think we should get up.”
“Since when are you the morning sort? Are you sure you’re the real Harper? You haven’t been replaced with a droid, have you?”
Harper sighed, amused despite herself. “Not last time I checked. I slept well, though. I don’t know what it is, but the water rocks me or something. It’s weird.”
�
��It’s like being in a hammock.”
Harper thought about that. “Huh. I know I joked about it earlier, but you’re right. I hadn’t even considered that.”
Jared smiled. He could practically hear the gears in her mind working.
“It is like a hammock,” she said after a beat. “We rock just enough to get a little motion. We can hear the water outside, and it’s soothing. It’s like hammocking.”
Jared chuckled, delighted with her to an extent that should’ve been criminal. “Good grief. I love you.”
“I know. You love hammocking, too. That’s the reason we’re sleeping so well.”
“I love you more than hammocking, just for the record.”
“That’s good to know.” She rolled so she was facing him, enjoying the way the sunlight filtering through the window glinted against his morning stubble. “You really are too handsome. It makes me go weak in the knees sometimes. Nobody should be as pretty as you. It’s just not fair.”
Jared’s grin was lightning quick. “You’re definitely my favorite person in the world.”
“Does that mean you want to go on a ghost hunt with me today?”
His smile slipped. “Is that your plan? Is that what you’re going to do with your day?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
He nodded without hesitation. “You’re on vacation. You’re supposed to be hanging with others of your ilk. Do that … out on the deck and away from danger.”
Harper made a face. “My ilk? What does that even mean?”
“Ghost hunters.”
“Are you sure that’s what you meant?”
“Yes.”
She sighed, the sound long and drawn out. “I know you don’t want to hear it because you’re you, but I can’t just forget about Tasha. She’s out there. For all we know, I’m the only one who can talk to her.”
“You don’t know that.” Jared wasn’t prepared to let it go. “I looked over the sheets Quinn had in his office yesterday. There are at least three hundred people on this ship who claim to see ghosts.”
“Claim. That’s the operative word.”
“Do you believe you’re the only person in the world who has this ability?”
“No.” Harper shook her head, firm, remembering another friend from Michigan. “In fact, I know I’m not. Ivy could see them, too.”
“Only when she was around you.”
“No. She saw them before we met. I think she’s been seeing them for a long time. She just doesn’t always realize it. She’s more apt to look now.”
“Fair enough.” Jared’s fingers were gentle as they brushed Harper’s flaxen hair away from her heart-shaped face. “If you’re not the only one who can see ghosts, why can’t someone else pick up the heavy lifting?”
“You know why.”
“Actually, in this particular case, I don’t.” Jared met her gaze head-on. “Why can’t we put the other ghost hunters on this?”
“Because I don’t think most of them are legit.” It was hard for Harper to admit, but he wasn’t going to let it go so she had no choice. “I’m not saying I’m better than them. It’s just … I think that some of them lie about being able to see ghosts because they think it’s a cool way to make money.”
It took everything Jared had not to smile. “You are better than them, and I’m not just saying that because I love you.”
“Then why are you pushing me on this?”
“Because I’m afraid.” Jared opted for honesty. “I love you, Heart. I don’t know what to think of those omens that Rowan can see. She’s not my girlfriend, so I’m skeptical. The thing is, Quinn isn’t.”
“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 hi
m, 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.”
18
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.”
Ghostly Seas: A Harper Harlow and Rowan Gray Mystery Page 17
