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Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus

Page 23

by Lily Harper Hart


  “We still have to try.”

  Quinn squeezed her hand. “Of course we have to try. I’m going to track her down right now. We’ll go from there.”

  Three

  Jack changed into shorts and a polo shirt to walk the deck with Ivy as they prepared to set sail. Once they christened their room, he was anxious to take a tour. He’d done more traveling than Ivy, but even he was new to the cruise liner experience.

  “This is kind of neat, huh?” He picked a lounger close to the railing and patted the spot between his legs so Ivy could get comfortable.

  She offered up zero complaints as she settled, smiling as Jack wrapped his arms around her and staring at the shoreline as the boat moved out to sea. The view was spectacular, the sun high in the sky, and her thoughts were as sunny as the bright light bathing them in warmth. “Do you smell that?”

  Jack nuzzled closer, the romance of earlier lingering in a manner that made him feel unbelievably relaxed. “I do. You smell like ... summer.”

  Ivy made an exaggerated face. “Not that ... although you’re even schmaltzier than normal.”

  “I don’t care. We’re on vacation. If I can’t be schmaltzy on vacation, what’s the point of leaving home?”

  “Fair enough.” Ivy rested her head against Jack’s chest. “I was talking about the ocean air, though. It smells ... salty.”

  “That’s because it’s salt water.”

  “I know that.”

  “I was simply pointing it out.”

  “It just ... feels different. I don’t know how to explain it. Like it’s a special gift because I don’t have to work. For days I don’t have to work. I don’t think I’ve fully wrapped my head around that.”

  Curious despite himself, Jack cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head as he studied her strong profile. “Have you ever had a vacation, honey? Like … taken actual time off work.”

  “Of course.”

  She said it too quickly. Jack was instantly suspicious. “When?”

  “I’ve been on lots of vacations. Just this past winter I was on a sort of vacation because the nursery was closed.”

  Ivy’s nursery was her pride and joy, a business she built from scratch. It was located on the backside of her property, and the hardest part about convincing her to join him on vacation had been promising that her father would be more than happy to run the business while she took a week off.

  “You didn’t take off any time over the winter.”

  “I did so.”

  “You did not.” Jack refused to back down. “You made lotions and soaps all winter, that lip balm your brother loved so much he threatened to eat it.”

  “That’s more of a hobby than anything else.”

  “You sell the stuff. You could make a full-time living off that business if you wanted. Just because you tend to limit your time playing cosmetologist, that doesn’t mean you didn’t work.”

  “Well, that’s not the only time I’ve taken a vacation,” Ivy countered. “Last summer I was off work for days.”

  “When?”

  “Um ... you know when.”

  Jack knew exactly what time period she was referring to. “You mean when you got shot?”

  “I thought we weren’t going to bring up that ugly time again. Let’s not go there. We’re on vacation.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jack rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. “I’m right. You’ve never taken time off from work. This trip is even more important than I thought. You need a break.”

  Ivy heaved out a long-suffering sigh that Jack recognized as her form of capitulation. “Fine. Just for you, I’ll embrace this ... break.” She was silent for a beat. “What should we do first?”

  Jack snorted. He should’ve seen it coming. She was on vacation, but she was a curious soul. She needed to see everything, touch everything. Since he loved her, he would deny her nothing. “How about we walk around the ship, take a look at everything on the deck, and then get a drink at that tiki bar we saw on our way outside?”

  Ivy nodded, happy. “I want something with an umbrella in it.”

  “That sounds like a plan.”

  “I HAVE SOME INFORMATION about Margaret Adkins,” Quinn announced as he joined Rowan on the deck. She was making a big show of taking photographs — from a distance — but she’d kept close to Margaret for the past two hours and she showed no signs of letting up.

  “Lay it on me,” Rowan said, snapping three photos in rapid succession.

  Quinn arched an eyebrow and shook his head. She was a master at multitasking. “She’s one of the founding members of the National Organization for Clean Minds and Hearts.”

  “Still a stupid name for a group.”

  “Totally, but I’ve delved a little deeper into the group. In fact, I messaged Fred to see if he could find anything good. He sent back some preliminary stuff and promises to get more as soon as he can sit down and start pulling records.”

  Fred Delmore and Quinn served overseas in the military together and they were unbelievably close. Rowan only recently met him, but she was a big fan of the gregarious private investigator. “He probably got good stuff ... and made snarky comments while delivering it.”

  “See, you already know him.” Quinn winked. “Okay, there were three founding members of the society. I refuse to call it by its full name. Margaret was one. Joseph Guthrie was another. Brenda Farmer was the third. They were all members of the same church, a South Carolina Baptist church located in Folly Beach.”

  “Where’s Folly Beach?”

  “It’s on the coast. It’s cool. If we ever get a chance, we’ll take a week and head up there. The pier is amazing and the food is to die for. They have a crab shack where they lower a bucket right in the center of the table so you have someplace to keep your discarded shells.”

  A seafood lover at heart, Rowan brightened considerably. “That sounds amazing.”

  “I thought you might like that.” Quinn’s grin was lightning fast before he sobered and focused on the printout he brought to the deck with him. “About three years ago, they formed the group after a high-profile murder in Charleston. A high school boy claimed video games made him kill his parents. He was found mentally impaired and sent to a hospital rather than a prison.”

  “That sounds like a terrible case, but I’m not sure that warrants falling off the rails.”

  “I’m guessing there’s more to the story than that, but that’s what they’re spouting whenever they can find someone to conduct an interview. That case supposedly made them realize that movies, books, television, and music were to blame for many of the ills of the world, including what happened to this kid. They say he wasn’t mentally ill as much as driven to insanity by some video game he was playing.”

  “What video game?”

  “I don’t know. Some shoot ’em up thing. I don’t have that information.”

  “Okay. Continue.” Rowan snapped another photo of Margaret and checked to see if the symbol remained.

  “Is she still in danger?” Quinn asked, recognizing the way her lips curved down.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, we’ll figure it out.” He hoped he sounded more convinced than he felt. “So, three years ago the three of them started this group. They recruited locally in Charleston and then carried their message out to other states. Now, apparently, the group has more than a hundred thousand members, including the celebrities I mentioned earlier.”

  “And how many members are on this cruise?”

  “You’re a smart girl. I already checked. There are just under a thousand members of the group booked on this trip.”

  “That’s not necessarily a great turnout.”

  “No, but traveling isn’t cheap. It’s not just paying for a room on the ship, but travel to Florida, food, tips, and island ports.”

  “Good point.” Rowan lowered her camera and leaned against the railing. “I guess I’m confused. What would be the motive to kill this woman? Sure, I don’
t get the point of blaming media for what others do, but she’s hardly the first to hold this opinion.”

  “No, but she is getting louder and louder,” Quinn said. “In fact, she’s been trying to hobnob with politicians in an effort to get more press coverage for her cause.”

  “It’s kind of ironic that she wants more television time even though she believes television is evil, huh?”

  “Yeah. I was kind of thinking the same thing.” Quinn flipped to the second page of his small report. “All three of the founders are on this cruise. I’m not sure what the others look like because we’ve been focused on Margaret. Do you think you can find them in your photos so we can make sure they’re not in danger, too?”

  “I don’t mind double-checking, but I went through all the photos already. She was the only one with the omen.”

  Quinn pursed his lips. “Well, there goes that theory.”

  “What theory was that?”

  “I thought maybe someone thought the trip might be a good way to get rid of the group’s leaders. If the other two are safe, though, that doesn’t exactly give me hope that I’m on the right track.”

  “It doesn’t mean that you’re wrong,” Rowan offered. “Maybe Margaret is simply the first to die.”

  “I wish we knew more about why you see these omens, and exactly what they mean.”

  “Maybe we’ll learn more from my father.” The second the statement was out of her mouth, Rowan wanted to backtrack. “Or maybe he doesn’t know either.”

  Quinn bit back a sigh. The return of Rowan’s father — a man thought to be dead — had been a cloud hanging over them since he showed up on the ship recently. They’d talked about his return, and the fact that he was technically in hiding since, but Rowan was still struggling with the information he provided during his visit. “Do you want to talk about that?”

  Rowan immediately started shaking her head. “No. I’m kind of sorry I brought it up.”

  “Fair enough. You can have as much time as you want to process things. I have no interest in pushing you.”

  “Thank you.” Rowan meant it. “When I’m ready, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” Quinn turned back to the sheet of paper. “I don’t know what to do other than watch her.”

  Rowan held her hands palms out and shrugged. “So ... let’s watch her. Maybe we’ll get lucky and her enemy will show his face right away.”

  “That would be a nice change of pace.”

  IVY’S DRINK WAS SO big it almost obliterated her entire face. The bartender, a friendly guy with a wide smile, was so amused at the length of time it took Ivy to decide on a drink he finally chose one for her. It was blue and Ivy was already tipsy even though she’d only imbibed half of it.

  “This is the best thing ever,” she enthused, grinning as Jack directed her toward a small table. “Seriously. We should make these at home.”

  Jack’s smile was indulgent. “If you want to get drunk and show me your blue tongue at home, I’m all for it.”

  Triggered by the suggestion, Ivy extended her tongue and laughed.

  “Very nice.” Jack leaned forward and smacked a loud kiss against her lips. “You’re in a very playful mood.”

  Ivy lowered her voice. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I think I might be drunk.”

  He snorted so hard he coughed. “Oh, honey, I think you might be, too. We probably should’ve eaten lunch before I started plying you with alcohol.”

  “Probably,” Ivy readily agreed, taking another big sip of her drink. “Too late now.”

  Jack rested his hand on hers to get her full attention. “I’m only letting you drink the one. Then you’re getting some water and food.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  “I don’t want you wasting your first vacation on a never-ending hangover.”

  “I guess that’s fair.” Ivy leaned back in her chair and rested her bare feet on Jack’s ankles.

  Concerned, Jack glanced under the table. “You didn’t lose your shoes, did you?”

  Ivy was solemn. “Maybe.”

  Thankfully, her flip-flops were under the table. She had a habit of running around barefoot at home. In fact, the first time they met she was barefoot ... even though she’d just discovered a body in the ditch and was forced to spend the next few hours in the middle of a crime scene.

  “We should’ve bought sandals with straps so you couldn’t just slip them off and leave them somewhere. Ah, well, it’s not the end of the world. If we need to buy shoes, we’ll buy those, too.”

  “We still haven’t picked out a bathing suit.”

  “We? I wasn’t aware that I was allowed to help you choose. Now that I know that, I’m thinking something pink, like your hair.”

  Ivy made a face. “I’m thinking something blue like ... .” She extended her tongue.

  “Oh, I’m never going to let you live this down.” Jack was all smiles as he reclined in his chair, his gaze tracking to Rowan as she cut her way across the deck. She looked distracted, harried even, but she managed a friendly wave for a few workers when they called out to her.

  “Hey, you guys.” Rowan looked surprised when she realized she was almost standing on top of Jack and Ivy. “How is the Michigan contingent enjoying the trip so far?”

  “We’re having a good time,” Jack replied lazily. “My fiancée is drunk ... and maybe a little hormonally worked up.”

  Rowan snickered as she glanced under the table to where Ivy was rubbing her feet against Jack’s sandals. “I see. At least she’s having fun, right?”

  “Definitely.”

  Something occurred to Rowan and she thought it best to warn Jack and Ivy, just to be on the safe side. “Um ... it’s not really my place to talk out of turn about the guests, but you might want to avoid the National Organization for Clean Minds and Hearts.”

  Jack’s face was blank. “I’m not sure what that means.”

  “It’s a political group,” Rowan explained. “There’s a large contingent of them on the ship. They’re ... interesting.”

  “Now I’m officially intrigued.”

  “Me, too,” Ivy said, reaching for her glass.

  Jack snagged it from her before she could take another drink. “Honey, maybe you should hold off until I get some food in you, huh? We’ll get lunch downstairs and then hit the stores so you can pick out a bathing suit. I’m afraid if you finish this I’m going to have to put you to bed.”

  “You’ve never complained about that before.”

  “It’s not even two yet.”

  Ivy sighed but acquiesced. “Fine. I am a little buzzed.”

  “It’s because you barely drink at home.” Jack turned back to Rowan. “Sorry about that. What were you telling us about the group?”

  “Oh, I don’t know that it’s important, but I don’t want your trip ruined or anything,” Rowan explained. “They’re a militant family values group. They’re convinced that violence in video games and sexually suggestive lyrics make people do bad things. We’ve been reading about them on the internet — you know, just to get a feeling on whether they’re going to be trouble — and apparently they think sex outside of marriage is a bad thing. Like ... a really bad thing.”

  “I think she’s suggesting we look like we have sex outside of marriage,” Ivy noted, causing Jack to smirk.

  “We’re engaged,” Jack pointed out. “We’re getting married this summer ... although someone still hasn’t picked a date.”

  Ivy scowled. “I’m working on it.”

  “Work faster.”

  “I don’t know that it matters to them,” Rowan said. “I’ve only been a member of the crew for a few months and this is the first time I’ve come across a group like this. Everyone else seems to think it’s funny — so maybe I’m overreacting — but they make me nervous.”

  “I don’t like puritans either,” Ivy offered. “I’m a big proponent of living your life however you want as long as you don’t hurt other
s.”

  “I agree.” Rowan bobbed her head. “I can’t shake the feeling that these folks are the sort who would’ve stoned witches to death back in Salem, or burned them at the stake in Europe. I don’t know why I feel that way, but they’re starting to make me nervous.”

  Jack and Ivy exchanged a weighted look that wasn’t lost on Rowan.

  “Did I say something wrong?” The photographer asked nervously, shifting from one foot to the other.

  “No.” Jack shook his head. “We’re fine. Thank you for telling us. We’ll do our best to avoid the group. We’re just here to have a nice, relaxing time. We’ve already started.”

  Ivy pushed out her blue tongue again. “Yup. I’m totally relaxed.”

  Jack extended his hand as he stood, helping Ivy to her feet and waiting patiently as she slipped back into her shoes. “I doubt we’re going to be their type of people. We plan on sticking to each other, eating a lot of good food, swimming, and dancing. That’s as heavy as we’re going to take things.”

  “You should go to the main dining room tonight,” Rowan suggested. “They have crab legs ... and they’re to die for.”

  “That sounds good to me.”

  “Not me,” Ivy countered. “I’m a vegetarian. I didn’t think about that. I wonder if I will be able to find anything to eat.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Rowan said hurriedly. “There are plenty of vegetarian options. Although ... how can you go through life without crab legs?”

  “Surprisingly it’s never been an issue.”

  “If you say so.” Rowan gave them a wave and then returned to her trek across the deck. “Have fun. Don’t drink too many blue cocktails.”

  Jack linked his fingers with Ivy’s and gave her a little tug to point her in the right direction. “That’s the plan,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

  “I’m sure you will, too.”

  Four

  Ivy dressed in one of her normal skirts for dinner, an ankle-length tie-dyed offering that set off her eyes. Jack found the ensemble charming, but Ivy gave herself a critical eye in the mirror.

 

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