Ghostly Fears

by Lily Harper Hart

  Jared found the leading edge of his agitation with Zander had not only dissipated but completely dissolved. “I love you like a brother, too.”

  Zander beamed.

  “Not all the time, though,” Jared stressed. “Only some of the time … when you’re not being a complete and total turd sandwich.”

  Shawn barked out a laugh as Zander rolled his eyes.

  “As for Harper, I’ve seen her like this a few times.” Zander voluntarily changed the subject. “People always said I had the bigger ego between us – which I’m sure is true – but there are times when she has an ego so big you could take a nap under it on a sunny day.”

  Jared’s lips curved. “She’s certain that everything is going to be magically fixed by the end of the night. I don’t want her upset.”

  “Are you sure she expects things to be fixed?” Zander challenged. “From where I’m standing, I think it’s far more likely that she thinks there are answers to be found. I very much doubt she thinks Jennifer’s life is going to be fixed after the fact.”

  Jared rubbed his chin as he regarded his girlfriend, who was standing next to Harris and Delphine and seemed to be deep in conversation. It was the first time she’d willingly tried to talk to either of them. “I guess,” he said finally. “She’s certainly worked up, though.”

  Zander offered him a saucy wink. “I bet that will benefit you later.”

  “It already benefitted me this afternoon,” Jared shot back, causing Zander to frown.

  “Don’t talk dirty about my best friend. Be respectful.”

  “You started it.”

  “I’m allowed because I’ve known her longer. You can’t get away with stuff like that.”

  “Good to know.”

  BY THE TIME DINNER ROLLED around, Harper had managed to take a tour of each small group so she could converse with everyone … whether she found them of interest or not. She was no longer smiling when she circled back to Jared and Zander.

  “What’s wrong?” Jared asked, instantly alert. “Did something happen?”

  She slid her eyes to him, confused. “Why would you assume something bad happened?”

  “Because you’re no longer happy.”

  “Oh, that.” She waved off his concern. “I was never really happy. I was excited. I’m still excited, don’t get me wrong, but I’m a little nervous, too. I didn’t think I would be.”

  “Nervous for what?” Jared felt like a broken record. He kept asking her the same question in a myriad of different ways and she kept putting him off. His temper was starting to fray.

  “Soon.” Harper squeezed his hand and nodded when Bates appeared in the doorway to announce dinner was served. “Showtime.”

  Jared dragged a restless hand through his hair as he followed her, shaking his head. He was relieved when he reached the table and found Harper had been seated next to him. Byron was on her right – a position he’d been claiming on a regular basis – and Harris and Bertie were across the table.

  Jared and Byron both pulled out Harper’s chair before she could sit, causing her to smile.

  “Thank you. Such gallant gentlemen.”

  Jared managed to refrain from rolling his eyes, but just barely. “Sit down, Heart.”

  Byron chuckled as he took his seat, his eyes appreciative as he took in Harper’s pretty dress and warm smile. “I’m glad you’re here, my dear.” He patted her hand. “I think the fact that you knew Jennifer makes this somehow … easier.”

  Jared narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “Makes what easier?” he asked after a beat.

  “What?” Byron recovered from whatever melancholy had momentarily overtook him and shook his head. “I was just talking to hear myself talk. I do that sometimes.”

  “I know a lot of people who do that,” Harper offered. “My mother does it all the time.”

  “As does Zander,” Jared added. Thankfully, Zander and Shawn were positioned at the other end of the table and couldn’t hear the dig.

  “How well did you know Jennifer?” Harris asked, grabbing a roll from the basket at the center of the table. Harper kept count over the appetizer hour in the parlor. He downed three drinks. Most people would be tipsy. Harris seemed relatively normal. “Were you close friends?”

  “I wouldn’t say we were close,” Harper replied, unfolding her napkin and placing it gently in her lap. “We were certainly friendly. Zander was my best friend in high school – still is today – and we were kind of in our own little world. I wish I would’ve taken the time to talk to Jennifer. I think I might’ve been able to help her.”

  “Help her with what?” Harris was fixated on buttering his roll and didn’t bother looking at Harper. If he’d taken the time, he would’ve seen the sly way the corners of her mouth turned up and been suspicious. “There was an accident in the woods. I already told you how she died. It’s tragic, but she didn’t suffer.”

  “I don’t believe she suffered either,” Harper offered, her gaze moving to the center of the table, to where Evangeline sat. The woman looked lighter, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Her husband sat next to her, chattering away, and she paid him zero attention. Instead, she stared at nothing and smiled at everything.

  “You believe she died in the woods, too?” Byron asked, his voice raspy. “I thought … .”

  “I don’t believe she died in the woods,” Harper countered quickly. “I don’t think she’s been here since the last time you saw her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Of course she died in the woods,” Harris snapped. “I told you I talked to her spirit.”

  “And I don’t believe you.” Harper was firm, pointed, before turning back to Byron. “I need to ask you something.”

  Byron nodded. “Of course. Whatever you wish to know, I will try to answer.”

  “Okay. Did you know your grandfather killed your grandmother’s best friends in the storage shed?”

  Whatever question he was expecting, that wasn’t it. Byron let out a huge gasp, and there was nothing theatrical or fake about it. He was legitimately stunned. “What?”

  “Their names were Dorothy and Belle.” Harper barreled forward, barely taking a breath. “They somehow got locked in some storage shed behind the house and burned alive.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Harris challenged.

  “I know the story,” Byron interrupted. “They weren’t murdered. There was some sort of tragic accident.”

  “I honestly don’t think so.” Harper saw no reason to lie. It was time to put her cards on the table. “Your grandmother was extremely close with them and your grandfather didn’t like it.”

  “How do you know that?” Byron seemed legitimately curious.

  “Because I spent some time with them this afternoon,” Harper replied. “Not a lot, mind you, but a fair bit. They’re hanging around with your grandmother.”

  Byron shifted in his chair. “Excuse me?”

  “What is she saying?” George asked.

  “She says Grandmother’s ghost is still hanging around. I didn’t realize that.”

  “Why would you realize that?” George challenged. “Ghosts aren’t real. You set up this entire thing to prove something that can’t be proven. You invited a bunch of crackpots here, Byron. You need to kick them out.”

  Byron ignored his father and held Harper’s clear gaze. “Are you saying you talked with my grandmother?”

  Harper nodded. “I did. What’s more important is that your mother talked to her.”

  Byron snapped his eyes in Evangeline’s direction. “Is that true?”

  “Of course it’s not true,” George scoffed. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

  Harper opened her mouth to yell at the man to shut up – she respected her elders, but she’d had her fill of George Jessup – but Evangeline handled the heavy lifting this go-around for her.

  “George, if you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all,” Evangel
ine snapped. “I’m in the middle of a conversation with my son. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me, so … shut up.”

  George’s eyes flashed with fury. He was in his seventies, but it was obvious he was ready to throw down. “Now you listen here … .” He reached for his wife, but Jared was on his feet.

  “If you put your hands on her, I will arrest you,” Jared warned, his eyes flashing with ominous intent. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  George appeared surprised to be addressed in such a manner. “I want you out of my house,” he hissed.

  “It’s not your house, Dad,” Byron shot back, rolling his neck as he glanced between faces. Finally, he focused on Harper. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to do here.”

  “I’m sure you don’t,” Harper replied, her hand automatically going to Jared’s suit sleeve so he didn’t crawl over the table to give George a piece of his mind. “I’m going to explain, though. Before that, I need to ask you one more time about Madeline. Are you sure you don’t know where she is?”

  Byron’s face twisted. “Why do you keep asking me that? She’s not here. She takes off like this all the time. She’s a complete idiot. She thinks that this is going to get me to change my mind and leave her everything in my will.”

  “I’ve told her I get everything, but she just won’t let it go,” Richard offered with a wink.

  “Except you don’t get everything,” Harper countered, watching the younger man closely for a reaction. Instead of being upset, though, he seemed more amused.

  “I will be inheriting more than I can ever spend,” Richard replied. “I’ve tried to talk my father into donating a building in downtown Detroit – maybe an art studio for inner-city kids or something – but apparently he’s going to let me decide what to do with my half of the money. I’m leaning toward that, in case you’re interested.”

  He hadn’t missed a beat, Harper realized. That answered one of her questions. “I think that sounds like a great idea. Leaving your mark on a community like that … well … it’s great.”

  “It’s a waste of money is what it is,” George barked. “That’s all the people in this family do is waste money.”

  “Since it’s our money to waste, perhaps you should stuff it, George,” Evangeline shot back. She was clearly at her limit with her husband. “In fact … you should definitely stuff it.” She took the roll that George was buttering and shoved it in his mouth. “I think we’ve all had more than enough of your mouth.”

  “Hear, hear.” Zander lifted his hands in the air and applauded.

  “Yes, Father. Now would be a good time for you to be quiet,” Byron agreed. “Harper, you’re upending dinner a bit. I would really like to know what’s going on.”

  “And I would like to tell you. It’s just … .” She trailed off when Bates appeared in the open doorway and cleared his throat. The butler looked shockingly pale, which told Harper she’d been right on the money.

  “What is it, Bates?” Byron feigned patience as he focused on his butler.

  “Sir, there is a fresh vehicle in the driveway,” Bates offered, his voice shaky.

  “A fresh vehicle?” Byron’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t understand. I didn’t clear the ferry for anyone. How did someone get over in a vehicle?”

  “I cleared the vehicle,” Evangeline replied, her gaze landing on Harper. “I really am sorry for all of this, Byron. You’ll never know how sorry. I did what I had to do, though.”

  “I don’t understand.” Frustration practically oozed out of Byron’s pores. “What’s going on? Who is outside?”

  Harper rested her hand on his wrist to get his attention. “I think you’re supposed to see this one for yourself. Don’t worry. We’ll all go with you – stopping us at this point would be a wasted effort – and we’ll help you understand.”

  Byron was still beyond puzzled. “But … who is it?”

  Harper’s smile was warm enough that it lit up her entire face. “It’s Jennifer. I think you’re going to want to answer the door yourself. Trust me on this one.” With those words, she got to her feet and headed out of the room. “Come on, everybody. The main event is finally here.”

  Jared shook his head but hurried to catch up with her. “You and I are going to have a really long talk about secrets later.”

  She smiled benignly at him. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  19

  Nineteen

  Jared had to scramble to catch up with Harper. She was tall, boasted long legs, and that meant she could stride with the best of them. She made a striking figure in the dress. He took a moment to admire her ... and then turned to business.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered in a low voice.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she reassured him. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know everyone else was following. By the time she reached the foyer, she was almost shaking she was so excited. She still wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure she was right. She was mostly sure … but not totally certain. She was rewarded for her faith when she hit the parlor and found a striking woman standing beneath the chandelier.

  “Jennifer.”

  The woman turned slowly and smiled when she caught a glimpse of the blonde. “Harper. You haven’t changed a bit.”

  Harper couldn’t say the same. “You’re different. Only your eyes are the same.”

  Jennifer chuckled. “That’s what happens when you’re in hiding.”

  “Yeah, well ... welcome home.” Harper smoothly stepped out of the way when she heard a gasp behind her.

  Richard was the first to break through the milling crowd and he immediately stalked toward his sister. “What are you doing here?”

  Jared narrowed his eyes as the siblings embraced. There was no weirdness between them, which made him suspicious. “You knew she was alive.”

  Richard took a moment to run his hand down the back of his sister’s hair, probably to collect himself if Jared had to guess, and then nodded as he turned back. “I knew.”

  “You knew!” Byron’s face was so red when he finally stepped to the forefront of the group that Harper worried he was about to have a heart attack.

  “You should sit down,” she insisted, taking a step toward him.

  Byron easily sidestepped her, pretended he didn’t see her, and remained focused on his daughter. “I knew it.” The statement was barely a whisper and then he recovered. “I knew it,” he said more forcefully this time. “I knew you weren’t dead.”

  “Which is why you set up this shindig, right?” Harper pressed. She was determined to find answers ... for everybody. “You hired those who communicate with the dead to prove she was alive. You wanted to force the issue by bringing together everyone – including your family – and then shoving us inside a pressure cooker.”

  Jennifer held her father’s gaze a long time. They still hadn’t embraced. Finally, she turned back to Harper. “I think the better question is, how did you know?”

  “I didn’t. Not fully. I had a feeling. This house has a lot of secrets ... and three souls that know all of them.”

  Jennifer furrowed her brow. “You’re talking about the ghosts.”

  “Belle, Dorothy, and your great-grandmother,” Harper confirmed. “They whisper if you listen ... constantly really … and you listened. You’re like your grandmother. You can hear them. That’s why you tried to hang out with us in high school.

  “I apologize for that, by the way,” she continued, her mouth flapping away without any true direction. “I thought you glommed on to us because you felt like an outsider, too. I was too involved with my own stuff back then. I didn’t realize ... any of it. I wish you would’ve told me, though.”

  “I was afraid to tell you,” she admitted, rueful. “You were starting to make a name for yourself even back then. People said you could see ghosts, talk to them. I’d been hearing voices for a long time. I didn’t tell anyone because I was afraid they would lock m
e up.”

  “Which is why your grandmother didn’t tell anyone either,” Harper surmised. “Her mother told people and it didn’t end well for her ... or the people she told.”

  Jennifer’s reaction was muted. “How did you figure that out?”

  “I wasn’t sure I had it completely right,” Harper admitted. “I had a feeling ... and a few dreams. Then I started really thinking about things. I was angry at myself for never looking for you. That should’ve been one of the first things I did ... and yet it never even occurred to me.

  “I know Zander and I were all about each other and shut out the rest of the world a bit when we were younger, but I like to think we weren’t so self-absorbed that we would completely forget about you,” she continued. “That’s when I realized I didn’t look because I never believed you were dead. Sure, that could’ve been wishful thinking, but I thought it was more.”

  “You were smart even then,” Jennifer said on a laugh. It was obvious she was uncomfortable with the conversation. “When I heard from Richard that my father called you in, I figured it was probably time to come home. I didn’t want you spending all your time looking for a person who wasn’t really dead.

  “I read about what happened with Quinn Jackson,” she explained. “You spent years looking for him, right? That’s what Richard said. You spent years looking for a man you thought was dead and sacrificed yourself in the process. Then he came back from the dead and almost killed you. It must be weird for you to know two people who came back from the dead, huh?”

  “You were never dead. You disappeared.”

  “Most people believed I was dead.”

  “Only because they couldn’t see beyond the money,” Harper pointed out. “They thought you had no reason to run. I remember how sad you were ... and afraid. I wish I would’ve known why. Maybe then you wouldn’t have gone into hiding.”

  “This is all lovely,” George interjected, his tone rough. “I’m sure you can catch up later and pat each other on the backs for being so smart and great with your ghost stuff. That doesn’t answer the question: Where have you been, young lady?”