Table of Contents
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Mail List
Acknowledgments
Books by Lily Harper Hart
Stormy Seas
A Rowan Gray Mystery Book Three
Lily Harper Hart
HarperHart Publications
Copyright © 2017 by Lily Harper Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Prologue
1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Nineteen
20. Twenty
21. Twenty-One
Mail List
Acknowledgments
Books by Lily Harper Hart
Prologue
10 years ago
“Dad?”
The house was dark when Rowan Gray returned home after putting in another long day at the local high school. She wasn’t surprised; she couldn’t be really. The storm raging outside was huge and she noticed the streetlights were out as she hurried from the bus stop to her house. That meant the power was out.
It was early June in Michigan, which meant the days were getting longer and the temperatures were ramping up. Rowan had one week left of high school and then it would be over. Done. Graduation was upon her.
She honestly didn’t know what to think about it.
She’d been dreaming about the end of her primary school education since entering Lakeview High School four years before. Now that it was finally upon her she felt somehow … restless. She wanted to look forward, but she was so often caught living in the past.
Right before high school she lost her mother to cancer, an insidious disease that stole the oxygen from her lungs even as Rowan was desperate to keep her breathing. Right after the funeral she was shuttled to a new school and a new reality. It was one she felt she needed her mother for, but she lacked control to change things – not that anyone could – and had to muddle through on her own.
Her father tried to help. He listened to her issues and talked her through the weird things that kept happening with more and more frequency – the weird symbols in the photographs she took and the occasional dreams she was convinced were prophetic – but he couldn’t help her navigate the normal teenage girl stuff that seemed to knock her for a loop at every turn.
Still, he was the only family she had left. She had uncles and aunts in other states – kind of – but she never spent time with or grew to know them. When she was a child, it was as if she lived on a special island with only her parents. Now that she was almost an adult, that island consisted of only two people and her father was becoming increasingly distant.
Rowan did her best to ignore the suspicion weighing her down, the notion that her father was putting space between them because he was frightened of her was (of course) ludicrous. Still, the worry often niggled the back of her brain and she couldn’t quite shake it.
“Dad?”
The house was not only dark but also quiet. Her father should’ve been home from work hours before. He told her he was only working half the day. Still, there was no reason to panic.
Not yet anyway.
He could’ve gotten tied up on the roads. The radio on the bus said the freeways were flooding in some places. Because the infrastructure of southeastern Michigan was aging, the local municipalities didn’t have the money they needed to properly drain the roads and whenever a big storm blew through certain underpasses became impassable. Her father might’ve been forced to take the side streets like everyone else and he was probably stuck in traffic.
Yeah, that was it.
Rowan made herself busy, emptying her backpack and placing her schoolbooks on the coffee table so they could dry. The nylon backpack was soaked through even though she was only exposed to the elements for a short period of time. She didn’t want the books to mildew, especially since she was so close to handing them in for the final time.
Once that was finished Rowan ran upstairs to her bedroom and changed out of her school clothes, opting for soft jogging pants and a T-shirt. When she returned downstairs she thought about fixing dinner, but the lack of electricity wasn’t conducive to cooking. She figured once her father got home they would order pizza or go out to a neighborhood diner. There was no sense struggling to cook when it wasn’t necessary.
The lightning and thunder raging outside made Rowan uneasy. She wasn’t afraid of storms – in fact, under the right circumstances, she loved them because they reminded her of the horror movies she enjoyed watching with her father – but this storm felt dangerous. Rowan kept her ears close to the window so she could hear the tornado siren should it start. That would necessitate hiding in the basement – a dank and dark space – but it would be safer than sitting next to the window and waiting for her father.
Where are you, Dad?
Rowan wasn’t the type to panic. Her parents taught her at a young age that there was no reason to get worked up about things that can’t be changed. Still, something inside of her felt … off. There was no other word to describe it. Something was wrong.
Even as fear washed over her, Rowan forced herself to remain calm. She found a book of matches in the coffee table drawer and lit the candle closest to the window. She wanted that to be the first thing her father saw when he pulled into the driveway. He always left a light on when she went out with her friends. This was her way to leave a light on for him, something to serve as a welcoming beacon.
Rowan snagged the afghan blanket from the back of the couch and curled up in the chair closest to the window as she watched the vacant street. The rain fell in a steady sheet, hitting so hard the droplets bounced. The lightning flashes increased in intensity, as did the rolling thunder. The storm was about to reach its apex. That meant her father would be home soon. She was sure of it.
But … where is he?
Rowan inhaled and exhaled, refusing to let her imagination run wild. She promised herself she would sit in the chair until her father showed up – some harrowing story about his ride home on his lips – and then they would laugh about her fear over dinner. She would wait until he came home and everything would be all right.
Of course, she never gave a moment of thought to the idea that he wouldn’t come home. She couldn’t let negativity and fear into her life. It helped no one.
Despite her best instincts, she sat by the window throughout the night, her faith only beginning to waver in the cresting dawn. Her father never returned.
Never.
1
One
&nbs
p; Present Day
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
Rowan Gray, her long auburn hair flying, hopped along the sandy beach as she enjoyed the sunset. Her newly-minted boyfriend Quinn Davenport sat a few feet away, reclining back on his hands as he let the waves wash over his feet and kept guard over her flip-flops.
It was a beautiful evening, the sun readying to set on the horizon. From their vantage point the couple could see the boat where they worked, The Bounding Storm, bouncing on the easy waves.
They would set sail again the following day, a full week of murder and mayhem on the menu. For the first time since they met, though, the murder and mayhem weren’t of the real variety. It was all make believe thanks to the Indie Horror Awards renting out the entire ship for a special event.
“I believe you stole that line from Scream,” Quinn teased, smiling at Rowan’s enthusiasm. Their relationship was still new, but he grew more comfortable with it every day – other than the obvious axe murderer in the room, of course, but he wasn’t about to dwell on that – and even though only weeks before he was convinced the last thing he wanted was a girlfriend, now he found himself ridiculously happy because he was in a relationship.
He never saw it coming but had absolutely zero complaints.
“I know that’s a line from Scream, but I didn’t mean to steal it,” Rowan noted, wrinkling her nose as she slowed her cavorting. “I was honestly asking about your favorite scary movie.”
“Oh.” Quinn pursed his lips as he debated the question. “I guess I haven’t given it much thought. I’m an action adventure guy more than a horror guy.”
“Like war movies?”
“Like Fast and Furious movies.”
“Oh, I’ve seen those.” Rowan tilted her head to the side, considering. “There are a lot of hot men in them. I’ll totally watch those with you. Still … how can you not like horror movies? They’re fun.”
“What’s fun about them?”
“You don’t like to be afraid?”
“I would think with everything we’ve gone through over the past few weeks – you know, murderers, threats, and drunken cosmetic saleswomen – that horror would be the last thing on your mind.”
Rowan held her hands palms up and shrugged. “Maybe I’m strange.”
“You’re definitely strange.” Quinn shot her a flirty wink and patted his lap. “Come be strange by me.”
Rowan didn’t put up a fight, instead skipping over to him, her mid-calf length skirt fluttering in the slight breeze. She positioned herself between his legs, resting her back against his chest as his arms came around her. “Better?”
“Everything is always better when I can touch you.” Quinn realized what he said when it was too late to take it back, his cheeks coloring as he cleared his throat. They were unbelievably close given the fact that they’d only been dating for a few weeks. Despite that, there was one thing they’d yet to do – one very intimate and naked thing – even though they spent almost every night in the same bed. The longer they waited the larger the issue became. “I didn’t mean … I mean … um … what were we talking about again?”
Rowan took pity on him even though she was equally embarrassed. “Horror movies.”
“Right.” Quinn bobbed his head, relieved. “Horror movies.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” Rowan repeated, hoping to get the conversation back on track.
“Oh, right. Um, I guess it would be the original Halloween. I thought the remake was terrible, but the original is still really good. What’s yours?”
“The Shining. I like Halloween, too, though. I like horror movies even when they’re bad, though. Like Bloody Xmas. Totally terrible. I mean … there’s a little yellow guy living in the walls. I’ve seen it like five times anyway.”
“Nice.” Quinn chuckled, legitimately amused. “I love learning these little tidbits about you.” He cleared Rowan’s hair away from her neck so he could kiss the soft skin there, sending a chill through her body. The anticipation was at the point where it would likely kill them both if he didn’t get up the courage to make a move relatively soon. It seemed like the longer he waited the harder it was to get up the gumption to do it.
At first he merely wanted to get to know her, the idea of rushing anything foreign. He couldn’t remember ever bonding with a woman as fast as he did with Rowan. Since he was former military, though, a lot of his time was spent working operations rather than refining his flirting skills. They both wanted to take things relatively slow.
Despite his initial determination to keep Rowan at arm’s length, Quinn realized in dizzying fashion that he wanted something entirely different. He wanted her. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted to protect her. Now he just plain wanted her and he was paralyzed by fear. It wasn’t as if he thought she would reject him. That was the furthest thing from his mind. He wanted it to be special, though. He wanted it to be romantic. He wasn’t sure if that was in his wheelhouse, though. Hence the fear.
He was totally psyching himself out. It wasn’t a good thing and he had no idea how to overcome the anxiety.
“I’m just excited,” Rowan enthused, drawing Quinn back into the conversation. “I can’t believe we’re actually going to have a ship full of horror movie actors … and directors … and special effects people. It’s just so … .”
“Annoying?”
“I was going to say neat, but I don’t think that’s a big enough word for what I’m feeling.” Rowan playfully flicked the end of Quinn’s nose. “How come you’re being such a spoilsport? This cruise is so much better than anything else we’ve handled since I joined the team.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Quinn deadpanned. “I was fond of the models we had on last week for the bikini shoot.”
Rowan’s smile slipped. She knew exactly why he liked that particular cruise. “I’m sure the fact that those women threw themselves on you whenever you appeared on the deck had nothing to do with that, right?”
Quinn shrugged, noncommittal. “I didn’t notice anything of the sort. I think it’s because whenever you’re around I become blind to other women.”
Instead of calling him on the obvious falsehood, Rowan dissolved into giggles and snuggled closer. “That was a really good answer.”
“I know.” Quinn was mildly smug as he rubbed his cheek against Rowan’s, his eyes traveling to the sinking sun. “This is my favorite part of the day. I love the colors when they explode like this.”
Rowan followed his gaze and nodded. “It’s nice.” They enjoyed the silence of the moment for a bit and then she returned to their previous conversation. “So why aren’t you excited to have all of the horror movie bigwigs on the ship again?”
“Geez. You’re like a dog with a bone.”
“Hellhound,” Rowan corrected, mock barking. “That’s the kind of dog that’s popular in horror movies these days.”
“The fact that you know that freaks me out.” Quinn tickled Rowan’s ribs before sobering. “As for why I don’t like the horror movie people, it’s because I see all of the issues we’re going to be facing before they even happen.”
“What issues?” Rowan was honestly curious. “From what I saw of their itinerary, it’s going to be all themed photos, food, and drinks. Then they’re going to have an awards ceremony on the last cruise night where everyone gets dressed up in costumes. How can you not think that’s going to be fun?”
“From your point of view I’m guessing it’s going to be a lot of fun,” Quinn countered. “From mine, it means we’re going to have a lot of vapid narcissists fighting with one another to be the biggest douche on the boat. They’ll be dressed in black capes, leather corsets, and dog collars. There will be fake blood from one end of the ship to the other because they’ll be trying to freak one another out. That sounds like a lot of work to me.”
“Huh.” Rowan ran her index finger over her bottom lip as she considered the statement. “I never thought of that.”
�
�See. It doesn’t sound like fun now, does it?”
Rowan immediately started shaking her head. “It sounds like even more fun than I first thought,” she said. “Do you really think they’ll dress in costumes?”
“Ugh.” Quinn rolled his eyes to the sky as he tightened his grip on Rowan’s waist. “I can already tell you’re going to be just as bad as them. What did I do to deserve this?”
“I think you got lucky.”
Quinn flicked his eyes to Rowan, his eyes roaming her strong profile. “I think I got lucky, too.” He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth before pushing her to a standing position. “How about we get some dinner before heading back to the ship? I’ve got some files to read before bed tonight.”
“Oh.” Rowan looked a bit disappointed when she realized Quinn would actually have to work for part of the night. That meant he wouldn’t be able to focus on her … or anything else. She immediately tamped down her resentment as she slipped into her shoes. They had all of the time in the world. There was no need to be anxious to the point of distraction. “Okay. I can help you with the files.”
“That sounds nice.” Quinn linked his fingers with hers and tugged her toward a small restaurant on the waterfront. “I know how fond you are of crab legs. This place has a great special on Mondays. Are you game?”
Rowan’s lips curved as she nodded. “I’m definitely game.”
They lapsed into silence, the breeze rustling Rowan’s long hair as they strode toward the restaurant, both of them lost in thought. Quinn was about to bring up the obvious issue plaguing them – desperate to get it out in the open so they could put it to bed, so to speak – when a hint of movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He reacted instinctively, his military training taking over when he registered the blur heading in their direction.
Quinn released Rowan’s hand, sweeping her behind him with one smooth movement as he squared his shoulders and extended his free arm to keep the blur from running into them. The blur, which was really a man dressed in all black, grunted as it bounced off Quinn’s arm and hit the sand with a loud thud.
Stormy Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 3) Page 1