Ghostly Interests

by Lily Harper Hart

  Dalton narrowed his eyes. “Who told you that?”

  “Everyone on campus knows,” Harper said. “It wasn’t a secret. You’re notorious for loving and leaving co-eds at every turn.”

  “Are you jealous?” Dalton asked, reaching over and rubbing his index finger up and down Harper’s bare forearm. “You don’t have to be. You’re a little older than I like, but you do have certain … attributes … I find appealing.” His eyes roved over Harper’s rounded rear. “Very appealing.”

  Harper yanked her arm back. “I don’t think you’re my type.”

  “I think you’re selling yourself short,” Dalton said. “I don’t really have a type.”

  “I think you misheard me,” Harper said, her voice firm. “You’re not my type. I don’t give a rat’s behind if I’m your type.”

  “Oh, now, don’t be like that,” Dalton said, smiling wolfishly. “I think you would like what I have to offer.”

  “And I think she’s already turned you down,” Jared said, moving between Harper and Dalton and forcing the instructor to take an involuntary step back.

  Harper sucked in a breath, surprised at Jared’s appearance and reaction to Dalton. “I … we were just talking.”

  “Oh, I knew what you were doing, Trixie Belden,” Jared said, his eyes never leaving Dalton’s face. “I’m not sure if you know what this guy was doing.”

  “I’m not a child,” Harper said. “I know what he was doing. I was trying to get some information out of him about Annie. That’s all.”

  Jared finally moved his gaze from Dalton’s fearful eyes to Harper’s obstinate blue orbs. “Why are you looking for information on Annie?”

  “I’m curious.”

  “I’m going to be going,” Dalton said, his gaze bouncing between Harper and Jared. “I … have a nice night.”

  “I have more questions, Professor,” Jared called to his rapidly retreating back. “Would you like to answer them?”

  “I already told you to go through my lawyer.”

  “That’s what I thought you would say,” Jared grumbled, watching Dalton for a few moments before turning his attention to Harper. “Do you want to tell me what you’re really doing here?”

  “Mourning the loss of a young woman who was cut down in her prime,” Harper replied, not missing a beat.

  “I see.” Jared was fighting to tamp down the smile threatening the corners of his mouth. He hated amateurs getting involved in official investigations and yet there was something about Harper that amused him. She had a goofy charm that he couldn’t put a name to and yet still found appealing. “Are you staying for the whole vigil?”

  Harper shrugged. “Maybe. Are you?”

  “Maybe,” Jared said, his face unreadable as he studied her. “Are you here because you think you’re helping Annie’s ghost?”

  Harper was floored by the question. “Who told you that?”

  “Mel mentioned that you and Zander run a ghost busting business,” Jared said. “I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re so interested in Annie and the only thing I can come up with is that you’ve convinced yourself that she’s a ghost.”

  “I’ve convinced myself?” Harper arched a confrontational eyebrow. “That’s some bedside manner you’ve got there, Doctor.”

  “I’m not trying to offend you,” Jared said. “I’m trying to figure out your angle. Do you convince people they have ghosts or do they convince themselves of that and conveniently find you?”

  “I get that you don’t believe in ghosts, but there’s no reason to make fun of my beliefs,” Harper said.

  “I’m not making fun of your beliefs … especially because I’m doubtful that you believe any of this … but I can’t figure out how this works and I’m dying to know how you managed to convince people that you can see and talk to ghosts,” Jared said.

  “Not everyone has a limited outlook on life,” Harper snapped.

  “If you don’t want to answer me you don’t have to,” Jared said. “Like I said, I’m curious.”

  “You’re not curious,” Harper countered. “You’ve convinced yourself of who I am and what I’m doing without any facts or listening to any other arguments besides the judgmental conga line in your head.”

  Jared’s mouth dropped open, stunned by her fortitude.

  “I don’t care what you believe,” Harper said. “I don’t care if you think I’m the fruitiest loop in the box. I know who I am and what I can do and I’m not about to let the likes of you bring me down.”

  “Wait just a minute,” Jared said.

  “No,” Harper replied, shaking her head. “We can agree to disagree. I am not going to change your belief system and you’re certainly not going to change mine. We can both go our separate ways and no one has to have their feelings hurt.”

  “I think I might’ve already hurt your feelings and that’s not what I meant to do,” Jared said.

  “You didn’t hurt my feelings,” Harper replied. “You’re not capable of it. Meaner men have tried. You can trust me there.”

  “I … .”

  Harper shook her head, cutting him off. “I need to find Zander and I’m sure you need to find Mel,” she said. “Have a good evening, Officer Monroe.”

  “Ms. Harlow … .”

  Harper was already walking away before Jared could offer whatever half-hearted apology was on the tip of his tongue. “Oh, and Officer Monroe?”

  Jared lifted a quizzical eyebrow, trying hard to focus on her face and not her shapely lower body even though it was swinging in a tantalizing way as she stormed off.

  “You’re a big douche,” Harper said, turning back around and disappearing into the crowd.

  Jared scowled as he watched her go. “What just happened here?”

  Nine

  “I need this ghost gone and I need it gone today.” Nina Jackson was matter-of-fact as she regarded Zander and Harper the next morning. “I know you charge a premium fee for fast jobs and I’m willing to pay it if you can get this ghost out of here today.”

  Zander and Harper exchanged a look.

  “You have to sign a contract before we do it,” Zander said. “We don’t expect payment before we complete the job, but we do expect the promise of payment for when it’s done.”

  “Whatever,” Nina said, waving her hand impatiently. “I’m willing to pay any fee to get this ghost out of here.”

  “I’ll get the forms out of the car,” Zander said. “I’ll call our co-workers and get them out here. While I’m doing that, you should tell Harper what you can about this ghost.”

  Nina made a face. “Why?”

  “Because it will help us form the best plan of attack,” Harper replied smoothly.

  “Can’t you just … I don’t know … suck it up?” Nina asked, miming as if she was vacuuming.

  “It doesn’t quite work like that,” Harper said. “I don’t need a lot of information. Whatever you can tell me would be appreciated, though.”

  “Oh, okay,” Nina said, resigned.

  “How long have you lived in this house?” Harper asked, pulling a small notebook out of her pocket and clicking a pen so she could take notes.

  “I grew up in this house,” Nina said, glancing around the immaculate farmhouse fondly. “I stayed here until I was eighteen and then I left when I got married.”

  “How did you end up back here?”

  “I inherited the house when my mother died,” Nina explained. “I thought about selling it. We had a nice house on Plum Street downtown. It was a corner lot and everything. I loved this house, though, and the idea of selling it gutted me.”

  Harper nodded sympathetically. She’d never formed attachments to homes, but she could see why some people did.

  “I talked my husband into moving out here even though he wasn’t thrilled with the idea,” Nina said. “He finally relented because he thought it would be a great place to raise kids. We don’t have to worry about traffic or them being grabbed off the street.”


  “That’s good,” Harper said, hoping to encourage Nina’s story along.

  “If we don’t get rid of this ghost my husband is going to leave me,” Nina said. “He’s already demanding we move back to town. I don’t want to give up my house.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be able to handle the situation,” Harper said. “We’ve done this numerous times. We need to get a feel for the spirit. When was the first time you noticed it?”

  “Well, we moved into the house a year ago,” Nina said, tilting her head to the side. “I guess it was our third night here when we heard noises. We chalked it up to old pipes, but it kept happening. The noises were bad, but we could mostly ignore them. It was when other things started happening that Ted – that’s my husband – started making noises about moving. I’ve been able to put him off until now, but after yesterday … .”

  “What other things started happening?”

  “Things moved,” Nina said. “I never saw them move at first. It started with simple things. I would put my glasses down on the end table and when I would come back they would be on the coffee table. I honestly thought I was doing it myself and forgetting, but then one day I put a book down on the couch and when I came back it was on the bookshelf.”

  “That’s weird,” Harper said. “What else?”

  “One morning I came downstairs and all of my dishes were rearranged,” Nina replied. “They were moved from the cupboards I had them in to the cupboards my mother used to have them in.”

  “Do you think this ghost knew how your mother did things?”

  “Absolutely,” Nina said, nodding. “I could put up with most of this but Ted, well, he’s starting to freak out.”

  “What happened to Ted yesterday?”

  “He was taking a shower and when he got out the mirror was all fogged up and … well … someone wrote a message in the fog.”

  “What did it say?” Harper was intrigued.

  “Um … basically it told him to go on a diet.” Nina looked embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “It said ‘lose some weight, fat ass,’” Nina said.

  Harper bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. “Is your husband fat?”

  “He’s not fat,” Nina said. “He has packed on a few pounds in the last year. All the ghost stuff is making him stress eat. I don’t blame him.”

  Harper didn’t either. “Who do you think the ghost is? Is it an old family member? Do you have any ideas?”

  “Oh, I know exactly who it is,” Nina said. “She’s been leaving me messages, too. She writes them on the chalkboard in the kitchen when she’s bored.”

  “Who is it?”

  “My mother.”

  Harper frowned, realization washing over her. “Oh.”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Nina said, lowering her eyes. “You think I should be grateful to still have a part of my mother left and not want to see her go.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking.”

  Nina ignored Harper’s statement. “I loved my mother. I did. I still do, don’t get me wrong. She’s just so … harsh.”

  “What kind of messages is she leaving you?” Harper asked, her mind wandering to what a nightmare it would be to have her own mother haunting her. She involuntarily shuddered at the thought.

  “Oh, you know, ‘your dress is too low cut,’ ‘your children should behave better,’ ‘your husband is a dildo.’ Basic stuff like that.”

  Harper swallowed the mad urge to laugh. She was starting to like this ghost. “What’s your mother’s name?”

  “Matilda.”

  “Can you think of any reason she would have remained behind instead of passing over?” Harper asked.

  Nina’s face was blank. “What do you mean?”

  “Most people want to pass over when they die,” Harper explained. “The ones who stayed behind are usually jerked out of a life they weren’t ready to leave. Did your mother die in a surprise accident? Was she … murdered?”

  “Oh, nothing like that,” Nina said. “She had cancer. She knew she was dying for two years.”

  “Why did she stay?”

  “She lived to nag,” Nina said. “She once told me she wouldn’t leave this Earth until I finally grew a brain and picked a better husband. I didn’t know she was being literal when she said it. I know my mother hates Ted, but … well … I love him.

  “He’s not a perfect husband, but he is a wonderful man and great father,” she continued. “No one is perfect.”

  “No,” Harper agreed.

  “I love my mother, but I’m ready to let her go,” Nina said. “Just once I would like to wake up in the morning and not find my thongs in the garbage can.”

  “I … what?” Harper was confused.

  “She thought only prostitutes and burlesque dancers wore thongs.”

  “Oh,” Harper said, wishing Zander had been present for this intake interview. “Well … I’m sure we can handle this and probably pretty quickly. Do you know where your mother’s spirit usually hangs out during the day?”

  “In the greenhouse,” Nina said. “That was her favorite place and she had a whole garden in there. She’s really mad at the way I let it go so she’s started cleaning it up herself. I’m sorry. I know she loved the building. I don’t like dirt, though.”

  Harper could sympathize with that. “I’m on it. We’ll get this handled today.”

  “Good,” Nina said, exhaling heavily. “If Mom gooses Ted with invisible hands one more time he’s going to have a heart attack – or a meltdown. Nobody wants that.”

  “THIS could be the best ghost ever,” Zander said, moving next to Harper in the center of the greenhouse. “She writes derogatory messages to her son-in-law. She moves dishes back to the way she likes them. She calls her grandkids brats. She’s awesome.”

  “Imagine living with your mother’s spirit after she passes on,” Harper prodded.

  “Oh, my mother is never going to die,” Zander said. “She can’t. I won’t allow it.”

  As much as he complained about his mother and her antics Zander was dedicated to the woman who gave him life. He really would be lost without her. Harper, on the other hand, loved her mother but found it easier to do from a distance. “You’re right,” she said. “Your mother is going to live forever.”

  “Like Fame,” Zander said, a faraway look on his face.

  “I was thinking more like Highlander.”

  “I can live with that,” Zander said. “I’m not thrilled with all the head chopping in that series, though.”

  “Movies,” Harper corrected.

  “The series was better,” Zander argued. “The actors were hotter.”

  “Sean Connery is the king of hot.”

  “He’s old.”

  “He’s still hot,” Harper argued.

  “Is he as hot as the new cop?” Zander asked, shifting the conversation to a subject he was dying to talk about.

  “What is your fascination with Jared Monroe?” Harper asked, irritated.

  “I think you like him.”

  “I think I hate him,” Harper said. “Did I tell you what he said to me last night?” Harper didn’t give Zander a chance to respond. Instead she launched into a righteous diatribe.

  “I’ve heard all of this,” Zander said, cutting Harper off before she could get a full head of steam. “Actually, to be fair, this would’ve been the third time I had to listen to it. I’m not doing it again.”

  “He’s an ass.”

  “He might be,” Zander conceded. “He also might be a guy who has never experienced anything paranormal so he can’t wrap his brain around it. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

  “I think he is,” Harper said. “He talked down to me.”

  “I talk down to you all of the time,” Zander pointed out.

  “I don’t like it then either.”

  “You don’t usually take it so personally,” Zander said. “Do you want to know what I think?”<
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  “Nope.” Harper shifted her gaze from her best friend to the door of the greenhouse. “Are Molly and Eric in place?”

  Zander ignored the question. “I think you like him.”

  “I already told you that I hate him.”

  “Fine, maybe you don’t like him,” Zander said. “I think you’re attracted to him, though.”

  Harper snorted. “Whatever. He’s not appealing to me in the slightest.”

  Zander didn’t believe her. “Really? You don’t want to see if his body is as hard as it looks under those shirts he wears? Or if his jeans really are covering up the world’s best rear end? You don’t like those blue eyes of his and the way they pop out against all that dark hair he has? You don’t want to run your hand over that stubbled chin of his?”

  “I see you’ve given this some thought,” Harper said, nonplussed.

  “He’s hot.”

  “I don’t think he plays for your team.”

  “He doesn’t,” Zander said. “Do you know how I know? Every time I’m checking him out he’s checking you out – and that includes last night because I was watching you when you didn’t know it.”

  “You were spying on me?”

  “I was watching the two of you interact,” Zander corrected. “I’m allowed. I’m your best friend. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”

  “It’s your job to feed me ice cream when I have PMS.”

  “I do that, too.”

  Harper couldn’t argue because he was telling the truth. “I think you’re imagining things.”

  “I think you’re pretending nothing is there when there might be a little something there,” Zander countered.

  “Whatever.”

  “We’re not done talking about this,” Zander warned. “For now, though, I’m going to let it go because we have a job to do.”

  “Great,” Harper said sarcastically.

  “We’re going to talk about your tone, too.”

  “Fine,” Harper said. “Do you want to get into position or are you going to imagine a few more boyfriends for me?”

  “I’m not imagining it,” Zander said, but he was already striding toward the east side of the structure.