Ghostly Wrecks (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 6)

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Ghostly Wrecks (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 6) Page 7

by Hart, Lily Harper


  “Hi, Harper.” Angie brightened considerably when she caught sight of the friendly blonde. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today. I thought you would be taking advantage of the weather and hanging out at the lake or something.”

  “I’m actually here to do a little research,” Harper admitted. “You might be able to cut down on some of the time I have to spend here, though, so I’m very happy to see you. Do you have anything on Jack Corgan?”

  Angie’s eyebrows winged up her forehead. “The fisherman dude who supposedly haunts the lake?”

  “That’s the guy I’m looking for.”

  “Wow. I guess that makes sense because you’re a ghost hunter, huh?” Angie tilted her head to the side. “We obviously don’t have full books on him, but I know there’s a chapter on him in that book Oliver Michaelson wrote a few years back. You remember him, right?”

  Harper made a face. “Yeah. I remember him. He’s friendly with my father. They play golf together.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “He’s just a sexist womanizer and he always says tacky things about the female body for a laugh,” Harper explained. “I find it derogatory. My father finds it funny. Go figure.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve never had the occasion to talk to him for more than a few minutes at a time, but he’s not big on making eye contact because he’d rather check out my boobs.” Angie motioned for Harper to follow her toward the section that housed local books. “He comes in to do a reading every few months. It’s not as if Whisper Cove has a lot of published authors.”

  “No, probably not,” Harper conceded, sliding a curious look toward a group of high school boys grouped at a table together. School wasn’t in session so they couldn’t be doing homework. Summer school was over – in more ways than one since the summer school administrator was awaiting trial on murder and drug trafficking charges – so Harper couldn’t think of a reason for the boys to be gathering at the library. “What’s their deal?”

  Angie followed Harper’s finger with her eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know. They come in every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday now.”

  Harper ran the schedule through her head and things clicked into place. “Are those the days you work?”

  “In the summer, yeah.”

  “Ah.” Harper bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as the boys watched Angie swish across the library floor. The woman, who was in her mid-twenties and spent the bulk of her time in her own little world, didn’t bother sparing them a glance. “At least they’re interested in … reading.”

  “Yeah. It’s great to see when dealing with the younger generation.” Angie surveyed the shelf for a moment and pulled out a book. “This is Oliver’s book and he might have more information on Jack Corgan if you want to call him and make an appointment.”

  “Yeah, that wouldn’t be my first choice,” Harper hedged, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the shelf. “I was hoping to get as much information as possible on the guy this afternoon, but if he’s not in any books … .”

  “You could go down to the pier,” Angie suggested. “Most of the guys who gather down there tell stories about him.”

  “They do?”

  Angie nodded. “My father was down there every day before he got sick last year.” She swallowed hard. “He used to say that if the fish weren’t biting that Jack Corgan was splashing around the water and roiling things up because that’s the sort of thing that amused him.”

  Harper rested her hand on Angie’s shoulder in an effort to offer solace. “Your father was a really nice man. We were all sad when he passed away.”

  “Yeah. It’s still hard.” Angie shook her head, as if to clear the melancholy. “If you want this book you can check it out, but I honestly don’t know anything else that mentions Jack Corgan.”

  “Okay, I’ll take this for starters.” Harper followed Angie back to the front desk, digging in her purse for her library card as she walked. She pulled up short when she saw the familiar woman standing next to the library desk, busy eyes scanning the room.

  “That’s Tina Dobson,” Angie muttered, surprised. “What is she doing here?”

  “She’s not a frequent visitor?” Harper asked, her stomach twisting.

  “I’ve never seen her here before.” Angie squared her shoulders, as if she was ready to face off with an enemy, and mustered a fake smile for Tina’s benefit. “Can I help you?”

  “I sincerely doubt it,” Tina replied, looking Angie up and down. “I’m looking for Jared Monroe.” She narrowed her eyes as she locked gazes with Harper. “We’re supposed to be meeting here. We have a date.”

  Harper considered having a meltdown, perhaps even yanking Tina’s hair for good measure. She knew the woman was lying and Zander would be horrified if Harper didn’t take advantage of the situation and engage in a good old-fashioned chick fight. She also knew that it could reflect poorly on Jared if she embraced her baser urges; as a result she refrained.

  “I can call him if he’s running late, but I’m pretty sure he has no intention of coming to the library,” Harper offered.

  “How do you know that?” Tina challenged, suspicious.

  “Because he’s with Mel and they’re investigating the boat mishap.”

  “But … his truck is here.” Tina haphazardly gestured toward the front door. “It’s in the parking lot. I saw it.”

  “I’m driving it,” Harper said, internally chuckling when she realized that Tina only stopped at the library because she was convinced Jared was inside. “We left the house this morning in the same vehicle and then we had to split up after lunch. He gave me his truck to drive and rode with Mel.”

  “But … .” Tina narrowed her eyes to dangerous green slits. “I know what you’re doing.”

  Harper glanced over her shoulder, convinced Tina had to be speaking to someone else to muster that amount of vitriol. “What am I doing?” she asked blankly.

  “I think she’s jealous,” Angie supplied. “If I’m reading the situation correctly – and I could be wrong because I’m not great with social cues – she stopped by the library because she saw Detective Monroe’s truck in the lot. She assumed he was here and instead got you. I think she was making up the part about having a date with him.”

  It took all of the strength she had for Harper to keep it together and not start laughing in Tina’s furious face. “Thank you for the explanation, Angie.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “You think you’re so special, don’t you?” Tina’s eyes flashed. “You’re not, though. You have to know that. Jared is only with you because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. I know it. He knows it. The entire town knows it.”

  “Well, in that case, I think it would be best for you to discuss your suspicions with Jared.” Harper pressed her lips together and widened her eyes to comical lengths as she shifted toward Angie. “Do you need my card or can I … ?”

  “Just go,” Angie said, waving her off. “I can look up your number. Just bring the book back when you’re finished. No one ever checks it out except Oliver.”

  Harper stilled as she moved to slip around Tina. “Oliver checks out his own book? Doesn’t he have copies at home?”

  “Yes, but he wants people to think it’s in demand,” Angie replied. “It will probably make his week when he comes in and realizes someone else checked it out.”

  “Oh, well, glad to be of service.” Harper turned back to the door. “I’ll see you soon, Angie. Goodbye, Tina.”

  “I’m not done talking to you,” Tina cursed under her breath as she swiveled. “I’m nowhere near done.”

  “And yet I’m done talking to you, so I guess we’re at a stalemate. Have a nice day.”

  8

  Eight

  “So that’s it?”

  Jared sat on the end of Harper’s bed later that night and watched as she rummaged in her closet. Harper had been calm and collected when explaining about her run-in with Tina, blasé even, but he
was expecting colorful tidbits to slip out when pressed for further details.

  “That’s it,” Harper replied, her head buried in the corner of the closet as she knelt. “I got in your truck and drove away.”

  “Did Tina follow you?”

  “Only to the parking lot. Then she stood in the middle of it and glared at me. She didn’t speak, though.”

  “Did she really refrain from speaking or did you simply tune her out?”

  “I don’t tune people out.”

  Jared rolled his eyes. “You live with Zander and he tends to go off at the mouth twenty-four hours a day,” he argued. “You’re a master at tuning people out.”

  “You have a point.” Harper appeared in the doorway and smiled. “How do you feel about going for a walk?”

  Jared cocked his head as he stared at the odd-looking boots in Harper’s hands. “Are those expensive shoes?”

  “No.”

  “What are they?”

  “Waders.”

  “For … what?”

  “Wading.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re cute because otherwise I might be forced to strangle you,” Jared groused. “Why do you want to go wading?”

  “Because you and Mel spent the entire day at the pier and didn’t find anyone with information on Jack Corgan,” Harper replied. “Andrew Farmer wasn’t there, which isn’t unusual because he likes to hop around, especially when it’s hot like this. He’s the one we need.”

  “And those boots are going to help us find him?” Jared was understandably dubious. “Heart, I don’t want to nip your enthusiasm in the bud – I never want to do that, for the record – but I don’t understand why you’re fixated on this old ghost story when Hayley very clearly heard human voices.”

  “We don’t know that Hayley heard human voices. We just know that she heard voices … and they happen to be voices that her mother claims not to have heard.”

  Jared was baffled. “So?”

  “So maybe Jessica Reiter didn’t hear the voices because it was ghosts arguing.” Harper uttered the statement as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say. “Maybe Hayley is like me and can hear ghosts but her mother can’t.”

  “Heart, I don’t think that’s the most probable answer,” Jared said, choosing his words carefully.

  “So what do you think happened?”

  “I think that Hayley was probably asleep and dreamed that she heard voices.”

  “Then explain the bullet holes in the deck,” Harper prodded.

  “I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Jared conceded. “Just because those marks looked like bullet holes to us, by the way, that’s not necessarily what they were. We have to wait for confirmation from the state police’s forensic team.”

  “That sounds very pragmatic.” Harper patted Jared’s arm as she sat on the end of the bed and moved to tug on the boots. “While you’re waiting to hear back from them, I’m going to find Andrew Farmer.”

  “In those?” Jared was beside himself. “Where are you going to wear those at this time of day?”

  “Down the river,” Harper replied, unruffled by Jared’s tone. “Andrew Farmer often fishes on the river at dusk. It just so happens that he does it very close to the spot where we like to hammock.”

  “I love that you’re now using that as a verb.” Jared cracked a smile. “What do you think he’s going to tell us?”

  “I have no idea what he’s going to tell us,” Harper admitted. “There wasn’t much on Jack Corgan in the book I got from the library. Just the basics, in fact, and they felt somehow glossed over. I heard stories about Jack Corgan from my grandfather when I was little – I’m sure of it – but I can’t remember them.”

  “Would this happen to be the same grandfather who appeared to you after he died? The same grandfather who proved you could see and talk to ghosts?”

  Harper nodded. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

  “I don’t have a problem with your abilities,” Jared replied. “You know that. If you think otherwise, well, you’re barking up the wrong tree. That doesn’t mean that a ghost is involved in this. In fact, just so I can say we’ve covered all of our bases, how would a ghost use a gun on a ship?”

  “I’m not saying that Jack Corgan shot up the boat.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “That Hayley heard someone talking to Jack … or perhaps Jack was talking to her and she got confused,” Harper replied. “Maybe there two ghosts were present.”

  “And the second ghost fired the gun?”

  “No.” Harper sucked in a breath to calm herself. “I haven’t figured it all out yet, Jared. You know that and I’m sorry if that’s frustrating for you. When Jason mentioned Jack Corgan’s name, though, something inside of me kind of … raised its hand.”

  “I don’t know what that means.” Jared pushed a strand of Harper’s hair out of her face. “Like in a classroom?”

  Harper nodded. “It was as if my intuition was saying ‘pick me, pick me.’”

  “Okay, you’re chasing a gut feeling,” Jared conceded. “I understand that. I can stand behind it. Tell me how this could possibly have something to do with a ghost, though. I really need to know.”

  “What if the ghosts were arguing and Jessica and Chad Reiter shot at them because they got confused during the storm? That would be a reason for them to be evasive when you questioned them because they probably think you won’t believe the real story.”

  “I guess that’s a possibility.” Jared rolled his neck. “Why would Jack Corgan end up on the boat?”

  “Because the legend says that he tries to help boaters and fisherman in need and you’re only at risk if you don’t listen to him,” Harper replied. “So maybe he knew they were in trouble, maybe he was trying to save Hayley and her parents freaked out because they didn’t understand what was happening.”

  “Okay, let’s say that is true, although I’m weighing in on the opposite side of that argument,” Jared said. “What do you expect to find tonight? I want a simple answer.”

  “I need a reminder on Jack Corgan because I can’t remember the story very well.”

  “And that’s all you want?”

  Harper nodded. “That’s all I want. I’ve never seen him. He very well might not exist. You would think I would see a famous ghost since I see the other non-famous ones all of the time. I simply cannot remember all of the stories.”

  “And you think this Andrew Farmer will be able to tell them to you?”

  Harper nodded again.

  “Okay then.” Jared held up his hands. “Let’s go hammocking in the dark.”

  “Great.” Harper beamed as she wiggled her butt. “Do you care if I wear the boots?”

  Jared tilted his head to the side, contemplating. “Would you consider wearing only the boots?”

  “Not until we’re done looking for Andrew.”

  Jared’s face split with a wide grin. “That wasn’t a no.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “THIS WAS a good idea.”

  Jared launched himself into the hammock once they hit their favorite spot close to the river, swinging back and forth as he stared at the stars.

  “That’s not what you said thirty minutes ago when I was searching for my boots,” Harper reminded him, wading into the slow-moving river about thirty feet away. “I believe you thought this was a terrible idea back then.”

  “I never think it’s a bad idea to hammock.”

  Despite the humidity hanging over the thick night air, Harper found herself in a good mood as she leaned her head back to gaze at the sky. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll consider wearing just the boots and hammocking with you then.”

  Jared shifted his head so he could see Harper. It was dark, but the moon was bright enough to illuminate the area and the pleasing angles of her face. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Down the river.” Harper pointed for emphasis. “Andrew Farmer fishes down that way.”
>
  “And how do you know that?”

  “I’ve seen him. I like splashing around the river when it’s hot.”

  “Is that what you do when I’m busy with work?”

  Harper shrugged, although a small smile played at the corner of her lips. “Sometimes I sit in a corner and thank my lucky stars that I found such a handsome and witty man to share my time with.”

  “Oh, that’s cute.”

  “I was talking about Zander.”

  “Keep it up.” Jared extended a warning finger, wagging it back and forth. “How about you abandon your search for Andrew Farmer and instead climb in the hammock with me? We can enjoy our night and plan our next avenue of attack together. That sounds like a much better way to spend an evening than searching for a guy who might know a ghost story.”

  “I need to at least look,” Harper said. “You can wait here. I promise I won’t be gone very long.”

  Even though he was comfortable, Jared had no intention of watching Harper traipse off into the darkness without him. “Fine. I’m coming,” he grumbled, rolling out of the hammock. “You’re going to be wearing nothing but those boots for me before the end of the night, though.”

  Harper remained where she was standing. “You don’t have to come.”

  “I’m your protector. That’s my job.”

  Harper’s smile dipped down. “That was an incredibly sexist thing to stay.”

  “And yet I stand by it.” Jared stepped into the water. He wore old sneakers that he wasn’t worried about ruining and made small shooing motions with his hands. “Come on. Let’s find the fisherman and hear the ghost story.”

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t like your attitude,” Harper grumbled, a chip on her shoulder as she navigated through the water.

  “I’m pretty sure I’m a fan of the view.” Jared fondly patted Harper’s rear end. “At least I’m getting something out of this night.”

  Harper rolled her eyes as she walked, keeping her eyes peeled along the riverbank to the right. She only managed to walk a good thirty yards before she heard rustling in the foliage.

  “Andrew?”

  “What? He’s this close?” Jared glanced around. He wasn’t a huge fan of nature. Sure, he enjoyed hammocking with Harper, but only when close to civilization. They hadn’t trekked very far, but the darkness was somehow invasive once the overhanging trees blocked the moon. “What did you hear?”

 

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