Ghostly Seas

by Lily Harper Hart

  Thirteen

  Quinn and Jared spent an hour sobering up Harper and Rowan. Thankfully, they weren’t drunk as much as tipsy. When Zander stopped by looking for Harper, a suggestion that a spa visit might be a good idea on his lips, Jared jumped at the chance. He shoved Harper and Rowan out the door, told Zander he was in charge – which put him in a really good mood – and then focused his full attention on Quinn.

  “Well, that’s not how I saw this afternoon going,” he lamented.

  Quinn barked out a laugh, amusement coursing through him. “I think we can agree on that.”

  “So … um … should we talk about what happened?” Jared was rarely unsure of himself, but he felt as if he was treading on thin ice now.

  Quinn swallowed hard. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I guess. Although … I’m not sure what to say.”

  “You must have questions.”

  “My only question revolves around the accuracy of these omens. Do you believe more than a hundred people are in danger of losing their lives?”

  Quinn nodded without hesitation. “I do. She’s never been wrong. We’ve been able to thwart several attempts, but it was always clear what was happening at the time.”

  “That means you haven’t always been able to stop what’s about to happen,” Jared mused.

  “Not always,” Quinn agreed. “We’ve lost several people, and it’s never easy. It’s hardest on Rowan, though. She considers herself a failure when that happens.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “It’s not. Are you going to tell me that Harper never considers herself a failure? I’m guessing she’s tried to help people – both living and dead – over the course of her life. It can’t always end on a high note.”

  “Definitely not,” Jared agreed, grimacing. “She takes things to heart sometimes. She’s the smartest person I know and yet she always second guesses herself. I get why, and I’m guessing Rowan is similar. I don’t like it, though. I always want her to be on top of the world.”

  “That’s not reality, though.”

  “No.”

  “Is that all you want to know?” Quinn asked, not bothering to hide his surprise. “My girlfriend can predict death with her camera.”

  “My girlfriend sees and talks to ghosts. She can send them to the other side. Sometimes she has weird nightmares that I think might be real, but she doesn’t want to admit it. Do you really want to start comparing weird girlfriends?”

  Quinn snorted. “No, although we seem to have some time. I thought maybe we could track down some of the women who had their deaths predicted by Brady. He’s still out there somewhere.”

  “Unless he’s not,” Jared countered. “We didn’t find him on the ship. Is it possible he went over the railing? I know that’s probably rare, but if I was going to kill someone on a cruise ship, that’s how I would dump the body.”

  “I’m glad to see you’ve given this some thought.”

  Jared merely shrugged. “I’m betting it occurred to you, too.”

  “Yeah.” Quinn rolled his neck. “If he went overboard, there’s nothing we can do about it. I have to continue under the assumption that he’s alive, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Questions then?”

  Quinn bobbed his head. “Questions.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  “HAVE YOU NOTICED that cucumber slices make water taste better than wine?” Zander asked, swirling a glass in front of him as his feet rested on a bench. He was in the middle of a pedicure and having a fabulous time.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Rowan said, although she happily slurped from a glass as one of the technicians worked on her feet. “I had no idea free spa treatments were part of my employment package, by the way. Had I known that, I would’ve been here sooner.”

  The woman scrubbing Rowan’s feet smiled, but she seemed lost in her own little world, apparently oblivious to the conversation bubbling around her. Rowan figured it had to be a monotonous job, so she didn’t take it personally.

  “I would live here,” Harper said, grinning when she handed her technician a bottle of blue nail polish. “Zander got me in the habit of regular spa visits and I absolutely love them.”

  “Zander is wise,” Zander announced, rakishly speaking about himself in the third person. “Zander is the smartest man in the world.”

  “Zander is a butthead,” Harper shot back. “Zander got so drunk two nights ago he passed out on the deck and almost gave me a heart attack. Zander is going to have to beg to get me to forgive him for that.”

  Zander rolled his eyes. “You puked on me. I think that’s payback enough.”

  “You puked on him?” Rowan choked on a laugh. “I … was it on purpose?”

  Harper snorted. “No. When the body showed up on the deck, I happened to be looking for Zander. I was worried at the time and convinced it was probably him. I worked myself into a frenzy and totally puked on him. That’s what woke him up.”

  “Yes, it was a lovely moment,” Zander drawled. “I think I’m going to tell my children about it one day. ‘Hey, kids, did I ever tell you about the time Aunt Harper threw up on me because she thought I was dead?’ That’s a story that will never tire in the telling.”

  Rowan laughed so hard her eyes watered. “Oh, you really are great. I know I shouldn’t say that because it will only inflate your ego, but I want to keep you with me for the rest of my life.”

  “You can’t have him.” Harper feigned seriousness. “I’ll fight you to the death for him.”

  Zander preened. “And she’s tall so she’ll squash you like a bug.”

  This time all three of them burst into hysterical gales of laughter. Death was hanging over them, but they could still see the sun through the clouds … and enjoy it.

  IT WASN’T HARD FOR QUINN and Jared to track down Brady’s victims. They weren’t exactly shy about their dislike for the man, and several were holding court in the tiki bar when it came time to track them down.

  “And then he dropped his voice like he was an extra from The Exorcist and looked me square in the face,” a boisterous blonde intoned from the center of a small group of women. “He said ‘you’re going to die before the night is out unless you let me take this curse off you.’

  “Now, I didn’t believe for a second I was going to die, but he made me wonder a little bit,” she continued. “No one wants to die while they’re on vacation. I mean … I know better and yet I still paid him to take the curse off. What does that say about me?”

  Sympathetic murmurs sprang up from the crowd and another woman bellowed her agreement.

  “He did the same thing to me!” she said. “I hope he gets a disease on his unmentionable parts and it falls off.”

  Jared pressed his lips together to keep from laughing as Quinn led the way to the bar.

  “What’s going on?” Quinn asked the man behind the bar as he sidled between two stools. “Are they getting rowdy?”

  Demarcus shrugged as he dried a glass. “It’s the ‘I Hate Mark Brady’ fan club,” he replied. “They’ve been doing imitations of him for an hour. I don’t think he has a lot of fans on this ship.”

  “I wondered about that the first night,” Quinn admitted. “Still, what’s making them congregate here? Do they know he’s missing?”

  “He’s missing? I didn’t know that. I’m pretty sure they don’t either. If you want to tell them, though, I bet each one of them will be willing to do the naked pretzel with you.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Quinn said dryly.

  “Hey, there are some fine-looking ladies over there.”

  “I have a beautiful girlfriend already.”

  “You definitely do.” Demarcus winked at Quinn before focusing on Jared. “I recognize you. You’re Harper Harlow’s boyfriend.”

  Jared nodded. “I am. How do you know Harper?”

  “I met her earlier today.”

  “Are you the one who gave her the beer?
”

  Sensing trouble, Demarcus shifted from one foot to the other. “Um … .”

  “It’s fine if you did,” Jared said hurriedly. “I’m simply curious how she managed to get her hands on it in the suite.”

  “Rowan might’ve placed a call to me and I might’ve bent the rules and sent someone up with drinks for them,” Demarcus hedged. “I definitely didn’t do that if I’m going to get in trouble, though.”

  Quinn snickered. “You’re not going to get in trouble. It’s fine. They’ve sobered up and are enjoying the spa.”

  “Whew.” Demarcus mocked wiping his forehead. “I’m glad I’m not going to be locked in fake jail for the duration of the trip.”

  “Ha, ha.” Quinn flicked his ear. “I’m interested in the women. What possessed them to start a ‘Bag on Brady’ party?”

  “Oh, that’s such a better name than what I came up with,” Demarcus groused. “I should’ve thought of that.”

  “Dude, tell me,” Quinn prodded.

  “I don’t know what spurred it,” Demarcus replied. “You should ask them. They seem eager to talk.”

  “Fine.” Quinn wasn’t thrilled with the idea of climbing into the middle of a lioness circle, but he didn’t see where he had a lot of choice. “Come on.” He tapped Jared’s arm to get him to move forward. “I’m not doing this alone.”

  “Why do I have to go with you?” Jared whined.

  “Are you afraid of them or something?”

  Jared nodded without hesitation. “Look at them. They’re liquored up and ready for a fight. They’ll eat us alive.”

  Quinn happened to agree, but he had no choice. “Suck it up … and let me do the talking.”

  “Gladly.”

  Quinn approached the women with a bright smile on his face, hoping he looked friendly and open rather than militaristic. The women wouldn’t talk if they thought they were participating in an interrogation.

  “Hello, ladies,” he called out, putting his charm on full display. “I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about Mark Brady.”

  “Oh, you mean the psychic to the stars?” one of the women gritted out, rolling her eyes.

  “That would be the individual we’re looking for,” Quinn confirmed, ignoring the way the nearest woman looked him up and down as if he were a porterhouse steak. “We’re trying to find him. It seems he missed a call time and I was just wondering if you’ve seen him around.”

  Quinn thought it was a simple way to insert himself into the conversation. He was massively wrong.

  “Why would we care where he is?” The woman who had been talking when they entered the tiki bar squared her shoulders. “We think he’s the scum of the earth.”

  “He tried to lick my ear,” a pretty brunette announced, wrinkling her nose. “As if I would ever let anyone – especially him – do that to me.”

  “He tried to lick your ear?” Jared was appalled. “Was this before or after he lifted the curse on you?”

  “During the process.”

  “That’s a little gross.”

  “It’s a lot gross,” Quinn countered, shaking his head. “I plan to have a serious conversation with him about that … as soon as I track him down. Has anyone seen him recently?”

  “I saw him,” a black woman announced from the back of the group. She had a cocktail clutched in her hand and fire in her eyes. “He was on the lido deck right after lunch. He was looking for more victims.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” another woman countered. She had red hair, which seemed to match her personality. “I saw him out by the shuffleboard area right after lunch. He wasn’t by the pool.”

  “He was inside right after lunch,” a blonde with the most impressive rack Jared had ever seen in real life argued. “I saw him by the shops. He wasn’t outside.”

  All the women started talking at once, sniping at one another. They all claimed they saw Brady after lunch, but they all pointed out different areas the sightings allegedly occurred.

  “What do you make of that?” Jared asked after several minutes of arguing. “They couldn’t have all seen him.”

  “No. I don’t know what to make of that.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “I have no idea.”

  EVEN THOUGH THEY’D SWORN off drinks for the rest of the afternoon, Harper and Rowan had a fine time living it up in the spa with Zander. They were in the middle of facials, their faces pointed at the ceiling as warm towels rested over special masks, when conversation turned to more serious matters.

  “Do you think the psychic’s disappearance has anything to do with the murder?” Harper asked.

  “I think it’s too coincidental for them not to be linked,” Rowan replied. “I’m not an expert, though. I guess it’s possible.”

  “I think they have to be linked, too,” Harper admitted.

  “Wait … what psychic?”

  The question didn’t come from a member of their group, and when Rowan shifted her towel, she found a woman sitting in a chair to her left. She was in the middle of getting her feet pumiced, and she’d obviously arrived in the middle of the conversation.

  “I’m sorry,” Rowan offered. “I didn’t realize we weren’t alone. You probably don’t want to listen to our gossip.”

  “That’s not true.” The woman’s smile was bright. “I’m Destiny Stone, by the way. I run a magic shop in Des Moines and I’m a ghost hunter by trade.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Harper pushed herself upright. “I’m a ghost hunter, too.” She pulled the towel from her face. “Harper Harlow.”

  Destiny’s mouth dropped open. “Holy … it’s really you.”

  “What’s really me?” Harper looked over her shoulder, confused.

  “You’re you,” Destiny blurted out. “I saw you on television. You were at an old asylum. That was some crazy stuff.”

  “Oh, right.” Harper managed to keep her smile in place, but just barely. “I was on television. Never again, though.”

  Destiny’s lips curved down. “You didn’t like it?”

  “Not even a little.” Harper opted for honesty. “Most of what that episode showed was edited together out of order. It didn’t happen the way they showed it.”

  “Well, that’s television.” Destiny wasn’t especially bothered by the admission. “What were you talking about before? What psychic is missing?”

  “Mark Brady,” Harper replied, seeing no reason to lie. “He seems to have hidden himself away somewhere on the ship.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” Destiny was a talker, and she seemed perfectly content to blab about a variety of different topics. “He’s a grifter. He’s known for running the second things get hot. Of course, he’s on a cruise ship. There aren’t that many places to run just now, are there?”

  “What do you mean?” Rowan asked, intrigued. “How do you know he’s a grifter?”

  “It’s common knowledge.”

  “But … I’m sure people say that about most everyone on this cruise,” she hedged, shooting an apologetic look in Harper’s direction. “Why do you specifically think he’s a grifter?”

  “Because he grew up in Des Moines,” Destiny replied, matter-of-fact. “He tells people he grew up in Salem, Massachusetts and is descended from witches, but that’s a total lie. He was two years ahead of me in high school. I actually saw him in the dining room that first night and waved at him, but he pretended he didn’t recognize me.”

  Rowan was flabbergasted. “So … you’ve known him your whole life?”

  “I wouldn’t say my whole life. I’ve known him since grade school, though. He’s got a terrible reputation in psychic circles, by the way. I’ve never talked out of turn about him, but I keep my ear to the ground.”

  Rowan very much doubted that Destiny refrained from talking out of turn about Brady, but opted to let the comment slide without poking holes in the story. “What can you tell us about him? Do you know how he got into the business?”

  “His father was
a confidence man.”

  Rowan was confused. “I’m not sure what that is.”

  “A conman,” Harper supplied, thoughtful. “It’s how some people refer to conmen. We’re talking about the guys who have affairs with women to steal the family funds and the like.”

  “Oh.” Rowan made a face. “How did you know that?”

  “Zander makes me watch old movies.”

  “And rightfully so,” Zander called out from beneath his towel. “You would have absolutely zero culture without me.”

  “And the world would be a sadder place,” Harper teased, casting her friend a fond look. “I’m interested in hearing more about Brady’s father, though. Did he teach his son how to run a long con?”

  “Technically I think the psychic gig is a long con,” Destiny replied. “I think each particular job he does is a short con. I was surprised to find him on the ship, especially on the payroll, but he was always charming. He gets picked up for numerous first jobs. He never gets picked up for second jobs.”

  “I can see that,” Rowan said. “I would love to hear more about him, though. What can you tell us?”

  “Oh, I’ve got all the dirt.” Destiny beamed, seemingly happy being the center of attention. “Do you want me to start in grade school or high school?”

  Harper and Rowan exchanged tight smiles.

  “I think high school will be more than enough,” Rowan answered.

  Destiny shot her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Great. It all started in freshman year when he convinced the principal that he couldn’t come to class before ten because he had a medical ailment.”

  Harper internally groaned but kept her smile in place. They needed the information. Destiny was more than willing to provide it. She would simply move at her own pace. They had no option but to put up with it.

  Hopefully it would be worth it.

  14

  Fourteen

  Harper and Rowan tracked Quinn and Jared down after their spa trip, leaving Zander behind to pamper himself and continue to dig information out of Destiny if she offered up anything of note.