Ghostly Distress (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 9)

by Lily Harper Hart

  “I doubt it.” Harper carefully made her way up the steps, doing her best to ignore the way the rickety wood swayed under her body weight. Jared followed – clearly unhappy – and allowed her to lead the way.

  “Tell me what you see,” Jared prodded, risking a glance over the railing to make sure Mel and Zander were still close and not finding trouble before focusing his full attention on his girlfriend. “Is it a young woman?”

  Harper shook her head as she pursed her lips. “It’s an old man.”

  The ghost picked that moment to float forward, his craggy ethereal skin glinting under the limited light as he murdered Harper with a dark glare. “I am not old! Do you have any idea how obnoxious it is to call someone old?”

  Harper’s lips curved. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how rude I was being. What term do you prefer? Elderly?”

  “That’s even worse.”

  “Uh-huh. You tell me how you would like me to refer to your age and I’ll be happy to do it.”

  The ghost made a face. “I’m in the prime of my life.”

  “You’re dead so that doesn’t really seem possible to me.” Harper scanned the loft before meeting the ghost’s steady gaze. “Who are you? I haven’t seen you around before and yet you look as if you’ve been here a long time.”

  “And we’re back to me being old.”

  Harper pressed her lips together and gathered her patience, ultimately opting for a different tack. “My name is Harper Harlow. I was born here in Whisper Cove. What about you?”

  “Harlow?” The ghost made a face. “Are you any relation to Eunice Harlow?”

  It took Harper a moment to track the name through her family tree. “Eunice was my great-grandmother. I never met her.”

  “Great-grandmother? Ugh. Maybe I am old.”

  Harper shrugged. “You look great for your age.”

  “How old do I look?”

  “Does it matter? You knew my great-grandmother. That means you look great for your age.”

  “Good point.” The ghost extended his hand as if he expected Harper to follow society’s rules and shake it. “My name is Ezra Standish. What are you doing in my barn?”

  “Oh, you’re Mr. Standish.” Harper exhaled heavily, relieved. “I guess it makes sense that you would be out here … although I swear I’ve never seen you before.”

  Jared watched the exchange with overt curiosity but didn’t insinuate himself into the conversation. He knew Harper would relate everything to him when she was done and her instincts, while not infallible, were almost always spot on.

  “Why can you see me at all?” Ezra asked, genuinely curious. “I’ve been around people for years – decades, really – and you’re the only one to ever notice me.”

  Harper felt inexplicably sad about the admission. “I’m sorry. If I knew you were here I would’ve come sooner to help you cross over. I guess I never thought to check.”

  Jared stirred. “Wait … didn’t you say you came to these parties when you were younger?”

  “Twice, but we never stayed,” Harper replied. “I don’t do well with crowds … especially when people know what I can do because they always ask a lot of questions. Questions make me uncomfortable.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I don’t remember you coming to the parties, but I’m kind of glad that’s the case,” Ezra offered. “You have no idea how much I hate those parties … I mean, like really hate them.”

  “I’m sure they’re annoying from your perspective,” Harper agreed. “Do you spend all your time in this barn?”

  Ezra shrugged. “Where else? My house is long gone.”

  “And yet the barn remains,” Harper mused. “I never really considered that. The barn is out here in what looks to be the middle of nowhere and there’s no house. Where did the house used to be?”

  Ezra pointed to the east. “That way, close to the trees. It’s long gone, though. Even the stone wall that was along the back of the house has completely disappeared as far as I can tell. There’s only a little line now … and the storm cellar is still there but hidden. I know because some people were on the property using a measuring tape one day – I have no idea when because time means nothing to me – and one of them tripped over the door and found the storm cellar.”

  “Hmm.” Harper stared through the filthy window but came up empty. “So, you spend all your time out here alone and once a year people show up and throw a party in the middle of your digs before taking off.”

  “It feels more regular than that. The parties, I mean. They usually don’t leave things such a mess out here either.”

  “Yeah, this is disgraceful,” Harper agreed. “I think Mel is going to make some calls and get people out here to clean the space. They should be ashamed for leaving it like this.”

  “And if it’s not done by the end of the day, I’m going to have this barn completely closed off and that will be the end of the party,” Mel added darkly.

  “I would be all for that.” Ezra flicked his eyes to Jared. “Who is your silent friend? How come he’s not doing any talking?”

  “He can’t hear you.” Harper opted for honesty. “I have a special ability.”

  “To talk to ghosts?”

  “Yes.”

  “It seems to me that’s not a very good ability. You must have ticked off somebody up high to be saddled with that.”

  Harper shrugged. “I used to believe that when I was a kid. I thought I was being punished for … something, maybe because I was bad. I spent a lot of years trying to find out why it happened to me and still more years trying to ignore what I could do.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I’m fine with what I can do and I believe it really is a gift,” Harper replied, matter-of-fact. “I can help you, in fact. You’re probably lucky to be so together given how long you’ve been on your own. Most ghosts who hang around long after their deaths go a little nutty.”

  “I guess I like being nutty rather than old.”

  “Who wouldn’t?” Something occurred to Harper. “Give it a little time and decide if you want me to help you. If you don’t, I understand, but I swear there’s something better out there waiting for you. I mean … you probably have a wife waiting for you on the other side. You must miss her.”

  “She was a real pill … and not one I ever wanted to swallow.” Ezra was grim. “I’ll consider it. I’m mostly fine here, though, except for the parties.”

  “Speaking of the parties, do you hang around when they’re going on?” Harper had an idea she wanted to explore. “Do you watch the kids and what they do?”

  Ezra nodded. “I don’t really have a choice in the matter. If someone doesn’t watch them then things will get out of hand.”

  Harper furrowed her brow. “How do you stop things from getting out of control?”

  “I shut off the lights and break windows.”

  Harper snickered. “That’s why people think this place is haunted. Things move, stuff breaks. I always thought it was stories, but I really should’ve checked this place out before now. That’s on me. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s fine. Other than the parties, I don’t really pay attention to it all.”

  “Well, still, if you were here the night of the party, that means you might have seen something of interest,” Harper suggested, holding out her hand to Jared. “Give your phone to me, please.”

  Jared did as asked without questioning Harper’s motivations.

  Harper sorted through the photos until she came up with what she was looking for and held up the screen. “This is Maggie Harris. She was here three nights ago. She turned up dead in the cemetery two nights ago. I don’t suppose you saw her while she was here, did you?”

  Ezra was serious as he leaned closer and stared at the screen. “Pretty girl.”

  “She was,” Harper agreed. “To my knowledge, she was also a good girl. She didn’t get in a lot of trouble or anything. She minded her own business. Somet
hing happened to her, though, and we’re trying to find out what.”

  “I remember her.” Ezra was calm, unruffled. “She came with another woman. They both had their faces painted like they were trying to catch every fly in the place in their ointment.”

  Harper wrinkled her forehead as she tried to untangle the words. Finally, she gave up. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means that she had stuff all over her face and looked like a whore.” Ezra clearly wasn’t one to mince words. “Women in my day didn’t paint their faces that way.”

  “Oh, well, right.” Harper was understandably uncomfortable. “It was Halloween, though. I’m sure it was part of her costume.” At least Harper was hopeful that was true. “As for Maggie, did you see her with anyone that night while she was here?”

  Ezra shrugged. He looked as if he was losing interest in the conversation. “She talked to everyone. She drank a lot, danced a lot, and talked a lot. I didn’t see her with any one person. She was with everyone. She even kissed a few people, too.”

  “A few people.” Harper cocked an eyebrow. “Like kissed in a friendly way or in a romantic way?”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “Well, yeah. I kiss him in a romantic way and the one on the ground in a friendly way.” Harper gestured between Jared and Zander. “They’re definitely different.”

  “My kisses are better, right?” Jared winked.

  “Obviously.” Harper wiped her sweaty palms over the seat of her jeans. “I’m just trying to get a picture here, Ezra. You said Maggie was hanging all over and kissing everyone. Did she wander off with anyone?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Ezra answered. “I didn’t pay attention to her over anyone else. In truth, I was more interested in the people making a mess. The only thing I can say about her is that she didn’t make a mess.”

  “Well, at least she had that going for her,” Harper muttered, flicking her eyes to Jared. “He doesn’t know. He said she was here and hanging around with a bunch of people … maybe kissing more than one of them.”

  “Definitely kissing more than one of them,” Ezra stressed. “She was giggling like a maniac and smoking tiny little cigarettes. They didn’t even have filters.”

  “Oh.” Harper licked her lips. “Have you seen Maggie’s autopsy yet?”

  Jared shook his head. “No. Why?”

  “Ezra says she was smoking pot. Maybe you should run a full toxicology report on her. I’m not saying the pot had anything to do with this, but maybe she was drugged or something.”

  “That’s something to consider.” Jared absently ran his knuckles up and down Harper’s back. “Is that it? I was kind of hoping you would come up with a direction for us to look.”

  “I was kind of hoping for that, too,” Harper admitted ruefully. “I guess that’s not going to happen, at least today.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Totally.”

  8

  Eight

  Jared and Mel left Harper and Zander at the barn and returned to the office to look over Maggie’s autopsy results. There was nothing surprising in the report except for one little tidbit.

  “Whoever killed her wiped down the body,” Jared noted, cocking his head to the side. “She had residue around her neck, one like you might find on those wipe things you can buy at any grocery store.”

  “I noticed that, too.” Mel leaned back in his chair as he sipped his coffee. “There’s no way to track down where the wipes were purchased – especially since whoever used them could’ve had them stored for years, for all we know – so I think it’s a dead end.”

  “It’s still interesting.” Jared chewed on his bottom lip. “What do you make about what Harper said?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “The ghost. The Ezra Standish guy.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I have trouble believing she was talking to a ghost,” Mel said. “I don’t happen to believe in Harper’s abilities the same way you do.”

  “And yet you know she can do something.” Jared wasn’t in the mood to fight with his partner, but he felt the need to stand up for Harper all the same. “Why would she make up having a conversation with Ezra Standish of all people? Other than confirming Maggie was at the barn party – which we already knew – he didn’t tell us anything of note.”

  “Which is exactly why I’m suspicious.”

  “Whatever.” Jared sank into silence, only breaking it when he realized he was desperate to get the last word. “Do you want to know what I think?”

  “Probably not, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” Mel remained focused on his computer screen. “Lay it on me.”

  Jared ignored his tone and barreled forward. “I think you do believe her, but you don’t want to believe her because realizing that ghosts are real … and out there … means that we’re pretty small in the grand scheme of things, kind of like ants on a picnic blanket. No one wants to feel small.”

  “Oh, that was almost profound.” Mel made a condescending face. “Can we be done talking about your girlfriend and turn to the business at hand?”

  Jared nodded. “Sure. I just want you to know that I’m here if you ever have any questions.”

  Mel heaved out a sigh. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Nope.” Jared shook his head. “If I can’t answer your questions, I’m sure Harper will be more than willing to sit down with you.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Mel grumbled, shaking his head. “Anyway, back to what’s important; the medical examiner believes our killer is of normal height and stature. He says between five-foot-eight and five-foot-ten. I think the only thing we can garner from that is that the killer is a man.”

  “Or a really tall woman,” Jared countered. “Harper is tall.”

  “She is, but she’s not that tall and Whisper Cove isn’t known for model-sized women,” Mel pointed out. “The medical examiner also said that our killer has large hands – also signifying a man – and there was no hesitation.”

  “So that means we’re either dealing with a sociopath who had no problem looking into an innocent woman’s eyes as he snuffed the life out of her or someone who has done this before,” Jared mused. “Which one are you leaning toward?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t think of any reason for someone to want to kill Maggie.”

  “I can.” Jared surprised himself with his response.

  “You can?” Mel arched an eyebrow. “Would you mind sharing with the class?”

  “She worked for a bank.”

  “So?”

  “So she worked for a bank,” Jared repeated. “She worked for a bank, which means someone might have thought she had access to money. Money is one of the biggest murder motivators out there.”

  “Huh.” Mel stroked his chin. “I never really considered that until you said it out loud, but I guess it makes sense. Most people don’t understand how a bank works. They naturally assume all tellers and workers have access to the vault, which is not the case.”

  “So maybe we’re not really looking for a killer,” Jared suggested. “I mean … we’re obviously looking for a killer. We might be looking for a thief, too, though.”

  “That’s a good place to start.” Mel wagged his finger. “Let’s head to the bank.”

  “I thought you would never ask.”

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

  After filling his stomach with tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, Zander was sleepy and ready for a nap. That’s why Harper’s intense face as she studied the menu on the wall at the diner made him leery.

  “I’m looking at the menu.”

  “You just ate the world’s best tomato soup.”

  “I did and it was good.” Harper’s eyes were lit with enthusiasm as she locked gazes with Zander. “Do you want to help me plan a special surprise for Jared?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

 
; “No. I’m serious.” Harper dug into her purse for money. “We don’t have a tour tonight because the cemetery is shut down due to finding Maggie’s body. That’s a rarity for a Monday during the Halloween season. I want to do something nice for Jared with my break.”

  “That’s really what you were sitting there thinking about?” Zander was disgusted. “If you’re going to waste brain power thinking of something other than work, why not focus on paint samples?” Zander grabbed his pink stack of torture and fanned it out. “How do you feel about Tutti Frutti?”

  “I will kill you if you don’t stop asking me about pink colors for a kitchen that is going to be blue,” Harper gritted out. “I’m not kidding.”

  “I think I’m starting to wear you down.”

  “You’re starting to make me look forward to moving away from you,” Harper countered. “I doubt that’s your intended purpose but … there it is.”

  Zander heaved out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I’ll help you plan a romantic night for the best friend stealer.”

  Harper grinned. “Thank you.”

  “I’m still your favorite person in the world, right?”

  “One of them.”

  “Oh, no.” Zander refused to back down. “The number one spot has always been mine and it will always be mine. I want you to promise.”

  “What if I have a kid?” Harper challenged. “Do you expect to get the top spot over a child?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. It depends on if the kid is a pain in the butt or like me.”

  Harper narrowed her eyes. “That sounds like the same thing to me. Like you or a pain in the butt. I’m not really seeing a difference there.”

  “Ha, ha. That’s not the way to get me to help you plan a romantic night with your color-blind boyfriend.”

  “Fine.” Harper adopted her most rational tone. “You’re still my favorite.”

  “Great. I’ll help you romance Jared’s socks off. What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m glad you asked. How do you feel about a picnic?”

  “No. It’s October. Picnics are for the summer.”

  “I was thinking of an indoor picnic … at the new house.”

  “Oh, well … I’ve heard worse ideas.” Zander shrugged. “Is it wrong that I hope he gets ants in his pants?”