Ghostly Seas: A Harper Harlow and Rowan Gray Mystery

by Lily Harper Hart

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” Quinn came to a stop in front of them. “The ocean was a bit rough last night.” He bounced his gaze between Jared and Harper. “You guys look okay.”

  “We’re fine,” Jared said. “We’re about to head to breakfast.”

  “After that, do you want to help us search for Brady?”

  The question caught Jared off guard. “I ... sure. I’m surprised you’re inviting me, though. I thought I would have to browbeat you into including me in things today.”

  “I’m inviting you because we need more bodies and you’re trained. I want to find this psychic for obvious reasons.”

  “Then I’ll definitely help,” Jared said. “I’ll start as soon as we’re done with breakfast.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  Jared watched Quinn stroll off with a mixture of amusement and confusion. “What do you make of that?”

  “He’s worried,” Harper replied simply. “I don’t blame him. There’s something off with that psychic.”

  “Yeah, well, we can search together.”

  Harper shook her head. “I think you should definitely search for the psychic. It’s important. I’ll be embarking on a different search, though.”

  Jared was instantly suspicious. “And what search is that?”

  “There’s a ghost out there, and I mean to find her.”

  “I guess I should’ve seen that coming.”

  “Definitely.” Harper smiled as she linked fingers with him. “Breakfast first. We need our fuel if we don’t want to get scurvy.”

  Jared scowled. “Don’t encourage him or we’ll never hear the end of this.”

  “We’re never going to hear the end of it anyway.”

  “Good point.”

  11

  Eleven

  Quinn met Jared outside the dining room after the detective finished his meal. He graced Harper with a curt head bob before speaking.

  “I figured you could come with me,” he started. “You’re a police officer, which means you have good instincts, but you’re not familiar with the ship.”

  Most other people would’ve taken it as a compliment. Jared wasn’t so easily swayed. “Basically you’re saying that you don’t trust me to search for myself.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” Amusement curved Jared’s lips. “It’s fine. In your position, I would probably do the same thing.”

  “Well, at least you’re not going to get snippy about it,” Quinn muttered. “I didn’t know how you would react.”

  “I’m fine with it. I want to find this guy, too. If he’s guilty, that means Zander is cleared. If he’s dead ... well, it’s also good for Zander because you can check the hallway cameras and see that he never left his room last night.”

  “I already have my guys on it,” Quinn admitted, smirking. “That’s on top of checking the feeds earlier in the night on the deck. I honestly don’t believe Zander is a murderer.”

  “You have to be certain, though,” Jared noted. “I get it.” He turned his attention to Harper. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay on your own?”

  Harper barely managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. Had Quinn not been present, she would’ve launched into a diatribe on how she could take care of herself. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll be around when you need to find me this afternoon.”

  Jared hesitated. Even though he knew Harper was capable of greatness, he didn’t want her finding trouble on a strange ship when her only backup would be busy with other things. “Be good ... and don’t do anything weird.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “If you run into the psychic, don’t engage. Just walk away and let us know where you see him, okay?”

  Harper heaved out a dramatic sigh. “I’ve got it. Now ... go.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Jared gave her another kiss before meeting Quinn’s gaze. “Let’s do this, huh?”

  “Absolutely.”

  THE FIRST LEG OF THEIR search covered the lowest level. Jared wasn’t surprised, although he was curious why Quinn selected that portion of the ship to search himself. It seemed like something he would delegate to his underlings.

  “Do you really think it’s possible that he managed to find his way down here?”

  Quinn shrugged as he waved his security pass in front of a reader to gain entrance to a storage room. “I like to think that our security is top notch, but weirder things have happened. The thing is, Brady has been making a spectacle of himself. He keeps charming women — or lifting curses from them, if you will — and there’s always a chance he turned his attention to a member of the kitchen or maid staff.”

  “Ah.” Things clicked into place for Jared. “I get what you’re saying. You think it’s possible one of your workers brought him down here for some privacy.”

  “Maybe.” That wasn’t exactly the line of thinking Quinn had been following. “Or maybe he ticked off the wrong person, someone who knew where to hide a body.”

  “Oh.” Jared straightened. “That’s also a possibility. Good thinking.”

  “I’ve been through these rooms multiple times. I’ll know if something looks out of place.”

  “So, let’s take a look.”

  The first storage room was full of linens and kitchen items. Extra flatware, plates, trays, and buffet burners filled every shelf. The aisles between the shelves were clean and free of debris, and it didn’t take the two men long to clear the first room. When they exited, Quinn pulled a stack of Post-It notes from his pocket and slapped a blue one onto the door.

  “What’s that for?” Jared asked, genuinely curious.

  “I just want to keep track of what’s been searched.”

  “Is it possible he’s in somebody’s room?”

  “It is. The thing is, we need just cause to enter. It’s kind of like entering a home when you’re a cop. We can force our way in, but we need a reason. That’s why I have my men trying to find Brady on the video. The thing is ... if he was on deck last night, there’s no way the cameras will have picked him up. It doesn’t matter which direction he went in.”

  “And why is that?”

  “The storm.”

  “Oh.” Jared had almost forgotten about the storm. “The rain probably makes it impossible to discern anything, huh?”

  “That and the constant movement of the ship plays havoc with the motion detectors. We’ve run into this particular problem before. People think, with the technology today, that our cameras should be infallible. That’s simply not the case.”

  “I can see that. Where to next?”

  Quinn pointed at the nearest storage room. “There are ten on this level. I want to hit every single one. I don’t expect him to be inside, but we can mark them off the list.”

  “Where to after that?”

  “The closed galleries. We use them for events depending on the theme of the cruise. For now, all of them are shut down. Two of them are expected to open by the end of the week, but the rest are expected to remain empty. There’s no reason to enter them.”

  “Unless you’re looking for a body,” Jared mused.

  “Exactly. We need to check the entire ship. Something about this feels off.”

  “It definitely feels off. I’m right there with you.”

  HARPER SPENT TWO HOURS wandering the deck looking for the ghost before giving up in frustration and sliding into a chair at the tiki bar. The man behind the counter cast her an amused look before filling a tumbler with iced tea and heading in her direction.

  “I would say you need something stronger, but I don’t want to encourage you to start drinking before noon.”

  His nametag read “Demarcus” and Harper offered him an easy grin. “I don’t think drinking is going to help my case either. The iced tea is much appreciated, though.”

  Since the bar was empty — most of the guests were enjoying the pool — Demarcus slipped into the chair across from her. “I saw you on television.”

  Harper wasn’t
surprised. She’d heard that exact statement multiple times since arriving. “Yeah. That wasn’t one of my finer moments.”

  “I thought you were brilliant,” he countered. “You kept your wits about you in a tense situation.”

  “Most people assume that was staged,” Harper pointed out. “Very few individuals believe anything that happened on that island was real.”

  “I Googled a few of the names. People really died on that island. I doubt it was all for show.”

  “It definitely wasn’t.” She rolled her neck until it cracked. “You seem pretty calm about all of it. Most people usually ask me to call to a dead relative so I can display my power.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works,” Demarcus said calmly. “I watched you most of all in that episode. For the record, I saw it when it first aired. Then someone mentioned you guys were on the ship and I streamed it again last night. This most recent time, I focused most on you. Do you want to know what I saw?”

  “Probably not.”

  Demarcus smirked. “I saw a woman who knew what she was doing, gave of herself, and risked her life even though there was minimal reward in it for her. There’s a difference between acting and reacting in the real world. I could tell you weren’t putting on a performance. Most of the others were, including your friend Zander at times … although he was completely real at the end.”

  Harper smiled at the memory. “He was born to be in show business. That’s what he always tells me. He’s the reason we went to that island in the first place.”

  “I figured.”

  “He’s a good friend. He was there for me for the duration.”

  “He was. Your boyfriend was also there for you. I can’t tell you how tickled I was to realize the three of you were here together. I’m jaded, so I assume all relationships on reality television shows are faked for the cameras. That’s not the case with you guys.”

  “Definitely not,” Harper agreed. “I don’t consider us reality television stars, though. We’re more ... guest stars. I agreed to do the show for the money and Zander. It was important to him, so I put up with it.”

  “Well, you were amazing. I mean ... really amazing. I could tell you cared a great deal about those ghosts, even though I couldn’t really make them out on my small computer screen.”

  “Yes, well, that is one of the major problems with this gig. Most people assume I’m a crackpot because if they can’t see it with their own eyes, it must not be there. My parents believed that way for a long time.”

  Demarcus made a clucking sound with his tongue. “I’m sorry about that. It doesn’t seem fair.”

  Harper merely shrugged. “It happens. I’m pretty content with my life so I’m fine with that.”

  “I can see that.” Demarcus snagged her hand so he could study the engagement ring on her finger. “When’s the big day?”

  “We haven’t picked a date yet. I’m guessing in the summer so we can have nice weather.”

  “I think that’s great.”

  “Yeah, well ... I just hope we get a full day without ghosts. I love what I do, but I want one day for myself. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

  “Definitely not. Well, I should probably get back to work.” He sighed as he stood. “The iced tea is on the house. Take a breather from the sun and then get back to your ghost hunt.”

  Harper froze, the glass halfway to her lips. “How did you know?”

  Demarcus’s smile was mischievous. “I’ve been watching you all morning. It’s obvious you’re searching for something specific ... or someone specific. Since you’re a ghost hunter, I assume that means you’re looking for a ghost.”

  Harper turned sheepish. “I saw Tasha Vale’s ghost yesterday,” she admitted. “I know she’s around here somewhere. She’s not on the deck, though, and I don’t know where to look.”

  “Maybe check by her room.”

  “And how am I supposed to know where that is?”

  Demarcus snickered. “You ask someone with access to a computer to look for you.”

  Harper brightened considerably. “I don’t suppose you have access to a computer, do you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  DEMARCUS’S TIP HELPED Harper immensely, and the second she turned the corner and spied Tasha’s room, the ghost floated into view.

  She looked lost, the heavy eye makeup from the night she died smudged under her eyes. It was clear to Harper that the woman didn’t yet understand she could change her appearance. Since Harper was hopeful she would be able to help the ghost move on — she even packed a dreamcatcher in the zippered pocket of the suitcase just in case, although Jared wasn’t aware — she didn’t think dwelling on nonessential issues was important.

  “Hey.”

  Tasha blinked several times in rapid succession, a mannerism left over from when she was alive. “Are you talking to me?”

  Harper swallowed a chuckle at the woman’s inadvertent Taxi Driver imitation. “You don’t see anyone else around, do you?”

  “No, but no one has talked to me all day. In fact ... I think it’s been two days.” She screwed up her face in concentration. “Yeah, I definitely think it’s been two days.”

  “I think it’s been more like thirty-two hours or so, but it doesn’t matter.” Harper forced a smile before licking her lips and staring up and down the hallway. Her ability wasn’t exactly a secret (not even a little one) but talking to Tasha in the middle of the hallway wasn’t without risk. Some people would assume she was talking to herself, which was fine. Others might realize what she was doing and make a scene. That’s what she worried about now.

  “How about we go to the stairwell,” she suggested, pointing toward the illuminated sign about thirty feet away. “We need to talk.”

  Tasha balked. “Why can’t we talk here?”

  “Because I’m the only one who can see you. Er, well, I think I’m the only one who can see you. On this particular cruise, it really is hard to tell. I would prefer being able to converse without people watching us.”

  “But ... you could be a creeper,” Tasha argued, her eyes filling with fire. “You could be one of those weirdos who thinks you can see and talk to ghosts. I don’t want to hang around a weirdo.”

  Harper managed to remain calm, although it took some work. “Yes, but you’re a ghost. If I wasn’t one of those weirdos, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You would still be standing here, by yourself, with no one acknowledging your presence.”

  Tasha turned huffy. “Excuse me, I most certainly am not dead.”

  “But ... you are.”

  “I think I would know if I was dead.” Her expression was so dour Harper would’ve found it comical under different circumstances. “I’m definitely not dead.”

  “You are.” Harper had spoken to enough ghosts that she knew coddling them wasn’t the answer. Tasha was hardly the first ghost to refuse to see the obvious. “You died on the deck two nights ago. It was after you spent the evening talking to my friend Zander.”

  “Zander.” She furrowed her brow. “You’re Zander’s friend? I’m assuming you’re the one who had your head turned by a detective who isn’t even remotely as attractive as Zander. That would make you ... Harper.”

  Harper bobbed her head. “Yes. Harper Harlow.”

  “And you really think I’m a ghost?”

  “I know you’re a ghost.”

  Instead of continuing to deny her plight, Tasha heaved out a sigh. “I guess that explains a few things.” She started moving toward the stairwell door Harper indicated moments before. “I can’t believe I’m dead. This just ... sucks.”

  Harper couldn’t argue with that. Since she could hear voices growing louder, she opted not to say a word until they were squirreled away in the stairwell. Tasha waited for her to open the door, which was completely unnecessary, and then they crowded into the sparsely-lit space together.

  “Well, this is picturesque,” Tasha said, making a face. “I
can’t believe I’m in here instead of enjoying my vacation. Do you know how long I had to save up for this vacation? It was ... forever.”

  “I know the feeling,” Harper said quietly, searching for the right words. “I had to save up for this vacation, too. Zander and I planned it out more than a year ago.”

  “And then you ruined everything by bringing your boyfriend,” Tasha noted. “That wasn’t very nice of you, by the way. You shouldn’t hurt your best friend like that.”

  Harper balked. “I did not hurt him. I brought Jared so we could spend some time together. He needed a break, too. It’s not as if I planned to hurt Zander.”

  “You did make him a third wheel, though.”

  “I ... .” Harper trailed off. Technically, that was true. It was annoying, but it was also true. “Let’s talk about something else.” She plastered a serene smile on her face. “I need you to tell me what you remember about the night you died.”

  “I’m still not convinced I’m really dead.”

  “Oh, you’re dead.”

  “I’m not, though.” Tasha was firm. “I’ve been doing some hard thinking about it — you know, since you told me you thought I was dead a few minutes ago in the hallway — and I’ve decided it’s not true.”

  “Then how do you explain the fact that no one can see you?”

  “I think it’s some elaborate hoax that someone dreamed up — maybe Zan the Man because he’s such a card — and I’m being filmed for a reality television show or something. Um ... yeah. That’s exactly what’s happening.”

  “No, it’s not.” To prove her point, Harper poked Tasha’s shoulder. Instead of contacting flesh and bone, her finger moved through the woman’s ethereal countenance. “See. You’re dead. This isn’t a hoax.”

  Tasha openly gaped at the phenomenon. “I ... you ... that ... .”

  “I’m sorry.” Harper managed to rein in her temper. The woman didn’t mean to be obnoxious. She simply couldn’t help herself. This was a trying time for her, and Harper had to remind herself to be calm for the ghost’s benefit. “You’re dead and we need to figure out who killed you.”