Ghostly Worries (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 4) (8 page)

Eleven

J
ared’s
first order of business upon arriving at the station was to sort through the accumulated tips and files on his desk. As much as he would’ve liked to dwell on Harper and the Jason situation – and worry about whatever grand plan Zander had for stealing his thunder back – he couldn’t because work called and he was diligent when it came to doing his duty.

He was barely into the pile when he found an interesting note. It seemed Rosie’s car had been located in the parking lot behind the deli. Since Mel was dealing with an issue at City Hall, Jared left his pile to peruse later and headed for his cruiser.

Whisper Cove was small enough it only took him five minutes to reach the kitschy shopping center. He talked to the owner, who said he only noticed the vehicle because it had been sitting there for several days, and then headed for the car. He put on a pair of rubber gloves before trying the door. It opened without putting up a fight, which really wasn’t unheard of given the size of the town. It wasn’t like in Detroit or a bigger suburban area where locking your doors was necessary.

Jared ran his hands over the steering wheel before kneeling so he could look at the carpet underneath the driver’s seat. He saw no signs of blood. The car was a newer model and pristine inside. There were also no signs of a purse or cell phone. On a hunch, Jared moved to the back of the car and felt under the wheel rim. His fingers touched a magnetized plastic box and when he opened it he found a spare key.

He slipped the key into the lock, the car’s engine roaring to life. The radio was on but turned low – some Top 40 music spilling out of the speakers – and Jared turned his attention to the built-in GPS unit. He scanned the information as it popped up and then reached for his cell phone. If everything went as he hoped, he would have Rosie’s GPS information – a map to the last hours of her life – sent to his cell phone before he had to turn the car over to the county’s tech team for processing.

Now he was finally getting somewhere.


I
DON’T
understand
what we’re doing out here,” Zander whined, making a face as he skirted a wide patch of goldenrod. “I thought we were going back to the beach to look for Rosie there.”

“And I thought you didn’t want to go back to the beach and risk running into Jason,” Harper countered, her face intent as she picked her way through the heavy underbrush that led to the river. “I thought this would be a nice surprise for you. I was really doing it as a favor because I love you so much.”

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Zander snapped, annoyed. “You’re doing this for you. I just can’t figure out why.”

“It’s a beautiful day for a walk through the woods.”

“It’s a sweltering day, which means it’s not a beautiful day for anything other than ice cream or cruising guys at the lake,” Zander countered. “It’s never a beautiful day for a walk through the woods in my world. You know that.”

“You’ll live.”

“Not if there are ticks.”

Harper bit the inside of her cheek to keep from yelling. She loved Zander and almost always enjoyed his antics. Today happened to be the exception to that rule.

“You know I don’t like ticks,” Zander said, trudging behind Harper as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “I read a news story that said there was a tick hiding in the woods and it grew so big it ate a small child.”

“Where did you read that?”

“I just told you. I read it in the newspaper.”

“A tabloid is not a newspaper,” Harper pointed out.

“Hey, until someone proves that Elvis and an alien didn’t have a love child and that’s not how boy band music came to be, I’m not ruling anything out,” Zander said. “Just because it’s a tabloid, that doesn’t mean it’s not legit.”

“Actually I think that’s exactly what it does mean.” Harper stopped for a moment, tilting her head to the side to get her bearings and then adjusted her trajectory. “I promise we don’t have much farther to go and then after that we can get ice cream before the library job.”

“I can’t believe they’re finally getting rid of Miss Swoosie,” Zander lamented. “She’s been a fixture at the library since before we were born. I could never see her, but I loved when you would tell me what she was doing in the fun zone at the library when we were kids.”

“Yes, but apparently she’s taken to dropping books on people’s heads and the city is worried about a lawsuit,” Harper said. “She’ll be happy once we explain things to her and help her move on. Ooh, I think it’s over here.”

“Where are we even going?” Zander asked. “You haven’t told me yet and I have to say … I’m wounded. You always tell me where we’re going.”

“I just want to see something,” Harper replied evasively. “There used to be an old cottage out here years ago. I think it’s still a rental.”

Zander furrowed his brow as he followed his best friend, his mind busy. He ran their morning conversation through his head and it was only then that things snapped into place. “You said that Rosie pointed at a house in your dream. You think you dreamed about this house out here, don’t you?”

“I … don’t know.” Harper refused to lie to him. “I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. The more I think about it, the more I’m certain that it’s the old cottage from out here. Now I just need to find it to see if I’m right.”

“No offense, Harp, but you’re not psychic,” Zander pointed out. “You can talk to ghosts, but last time I checked you didn’t have any other mystical powers. Although … and follow me on this … just the other day I mentioned that I thought you might be able to read minds. What if it came true?”

Harper didn’t want to laugh. It wasn’t a funny situation, after all. Someone was dead and possibly in a horribly violent manner. She couldn’t stop herself, though. “Then that would make you psychic, too,” she sputtered, giggling.

“Not psychic,” Zander corrected. “Perhaps I can see the future. That’s going to come in really handy next time I get suckered in by a guy’s looks at the gym. Now I’ll be able to know if his armpits smell like sewer scrapings before I get to the awkward part of the date where I have to make up a family emergency and escape.”

“Yes, that’s definitely going to make your dating life so much easier,” Harper said, pulling up short when she walked behind a large outcropping of trees and the cottage from her dream popped into view. It looked exactly like it had the night before, sagging front porch and all. “I knew it.”

“You knew what?” Zander asked, joining her. “Is this the cottage from your vision?”

“It wasn’t a vision. Don’t say vision. That’s too … out there.”

“Yes, because talking to ghosts is normal and down to earth,” Zander said. “Is it, though?”

Harper pressed her lips together and nodded. “What do you think it means?”

Zander shrugged. “I have no idea,” he said, his earlier complaints forgotten. “Let’s take a look around and find out. I’m dying to see what’s inside. If it’s a giant tick, though, we’re running. I have no tolerance for a giant tick.”

“Shouldn’t you be able to use your new power to see if there is a giant tick in there?”

“Good point. You’re still going first.”

J
ARED
stared
at the red line on his phone screen. It led him out of town and into the woods and he was still following it. Since Rosie’s body was discovered in town, he wasn’t sure what he would find at the end of the victim’s GPS line, but he followed all the same.

Jared was still getting used to the ins and outs of a town that didn’t put up street signs at every intersection, although he wouldn’t trade the comforting vibe of Whisper Cove for anything. It was odd, but when he first moved to town he couldn’t wait to find a job in a bigger market so he could leave. Now he had no inclination to find another job and he couldn’t imagine settling anywhere else. Whisper Cove was his home … and Harper had a lot to do with that.

He’d considered telling Harper what Jason said the previous evening. He firmly believed the key to a lasting relationship was good communication. He couldn’t figure out a way to tell her without sounding territorial – or worse, whiny – so he let it go. He had faith things would work out the way they should, but he was also annoyed by Jason’s intentions.

Jared followed the line on his phone as it led him onto a dirt road that forked off into a tree-laden area thick with wild foliage. His destination ended at a small cottage in the middle of the woods. It was completely isolated and there were no dwellings in relative proximity. Jared killed his engine and climbed out of the car, cocking his head to the side when he realized he could hear the telltale sounds of a river behind the house. He couldn’t see it, but the water was obviously there.

Jared moved closer to the house, his eyes busy scanning for signs of a struggle or personal belongings. He was so lost in thought he didn’t register he was hearing low voices until he was almost to the corner of the cottage. Then he realized he recognized the voices and could do nothing but shake his head.

“There’s not a tick inside, Zander,” Harper said.

“You can’t possibly know that,” Zander argued. “I maintain that there could be a really big bug inside and you can’t argue against it until you open the door and prove there’s no bug inside. Until you open the door it could be there. You can’t prove a negative.”

“So you’re saying it’s like Schrodinger’s cat,” Harper mused. “Without proof we’re essentially stuck.”

“You’re such a geek,” Zander muttered. “I can’t believe you snagged someone as hot as Jared – his freakishly big nipples notwithstanding – when you’re such a geek. You’re hot – don’t get me wrong – but you’re a geek. I mean … Schrodinger’s cat? It’s a good thing you had sex with him before he figured this stuff out.”

Jared had to suck on his lip to keep from laughing. As annoying as he found Zander’s early morning visits to the bed they shared, he adored their banter. They were a joy to listen to, especially when they discovered a tangent they couldn’t ignore.

“Here’s the problem,” Harper said. “When I insisted we come out here, I didn’t think we would find the cottage. I thought I was remembering things wrong. Now that I know that it’s real … .”

“And that you’re apparently psychic,” Zander added.

“And that,” Harper said, bobbing her head. “I think maybe we should call Jared. This could be a crime scene. We can’t break in, especially if there’s like blood and stuff. That could totally ruin everything.”

“Yes, that would be a shame,” Zander agreed. “Do you want to hear my thing?”

“Probably not.”

“My thing is that you used to be a lot more adventurous before you started sleeping with the cop,” Zander said, ignoring Harper’s annoyed tone. “You used to have no problem breaking into places. Now it’s all ‘oh, no, I can’t upset Jared.’ What happened to you, Harp?”

“Is that your impression of me?” Harper was obviously annoyed and instead of continuing his eavesdropping, Jared decided to make his presence known.

“Personally, I prefer the real thing,” he said, moving to the side of the house and causing Harper and Jared to jump. “Don’t worry. I’m not a tick.”

“You scared me,” Harper said, slapping his arm for emphasis. “How long were you listening?”

“Long enough to wonder how you two get any work done in a day,” Jared said, chuckling. “What are you doing out here?”

“I … this is the cottage from my dream,” Harper admitted.

“I figured that out while listening to you,” Jared said. “You should’ve called after you figured it out but before considering breaking and entering.”

“I wasn’t sure until we came and saw it,” Harper explained. “If you were really listening, you heard that I didn’t want to break in because I didn’t think it was fair to you.”

“I did hear. You’re such a good citizen.” Jared smacked a loud kiss against her cheek before turning to Zander. “I heard what you said, too.”

“Did you hear the part where Harper may be psychic and I can see the future?”

“No, but … that sounds fun,” Jared said, glancing at the cottage. “What do you know about this place?”

“It’s a rental,” Harper replied. “I don’t know who owns it, but it’s been a mess for as long as I can remember. I don’t think it sees a lot of tourist traffic … for obvious reasons. I bet Jenny knows who the owner is.”

“Well, I say we figure out who owns it before breaking in,” Jared said. “I’m just spit-balling though. If you want to break the law, I’d be more than happy to arrest you.”

“What would the bail be like?” Harper grinned as she flirted, pursing her lips until they were too enticing to ignore.

“Steep, but I think we can work something out,” Jared said, pressing his lips against hers.

“Oh, I’m so going to puke,” Zander muttered.

“I think you’re just in a dating rut so you can’t help yourself from being bitter,” Jared said, his eyes twinkling. “I can’t let you guys break in. I can, however, let you sit in the air-conditioned cruiser with me while I make a few calls and get someone to open up this place for us.”

“You had me at air-conditioning, man,” Zander said, slapping Jared’s arm.

“You had me when you smiled.” Harper’s face was so pretty when she wrinkled it up into an adorable expression Jared couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again. “Just out of curiosity, though, how did you end up out here?”

“I found Rosie’s car and followed the GPS,” Jared replied. “She picked up groceries, ice cream, and stopped at the library over the course of her last day. She definitely spent time here, too. That’s why I have to insist you two don’t break in.”

“Do you think she was killed in there?”

“I don’t know,” Jared answered, opting for honesty as he pushed a strand of Harper’s hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to take any chances, though. Let’s see what we can find out, shall we?”

Twelve

J
enny Porter was
in a mood when she showed up at the cottage – and it wasn’t a good one.

“If there’s a dead body in here I’m going to be totally ticked off,” she announced, climbing the steps to the cottage with keys jangling in her hand. “No joke. These are new shoes.”

“Yes, but you got them from the bargain bin at the grocery store,” Zander intoned, earning a murderous look from Jenny.

“No one is asking you to go inside,” Jared said, tugging on his limited patience as he trailed behind the feisty real estate agent. “We just need entry for an investigation.”

“Yes, and you’re working on a murder that everyone is talking about and have the ghost-hunting duo at your side,” Jenny shot back, searching until she found the correct key on her ring. “Now, it might be cute if I thought it was ‘Take Your Girlfriend and Her Best Friend to Work Day,’ but we all know it’s not. That means you’re here for a reason, and I’m guessing that reason is has something to do with death.”

Jared wasn’t bothered by Jenny’s tone. “We believe the victim visited this home on the day she died,” he said. “I need to know who rented it.”

“I looked that up before I headed in this direction,” Jenny replied. “Your call made me curious. Her name was Rosie Sawyer. She rented it about four weeks ago and paid the security deposit and everything. She was paid up through the end of summer.”

“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.”


W
ELL
, 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.”

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