Harper’s forehead wrinkled. “You’re talking about the internet.”
“I am.”
“Have you been lurking around these chat rooms or something?”
“I might’ve taken a peek when we first started dating.” It wasn’t something he was keen to admit, but it was in the past and they were so much more now than they were at the time. In fact, they were more than he ever envisioned them being. “I was curious about what you could do. Mel told me a few stories, and I wanted to see if there was more out there.”
“And you found stuff about me in these chat rooms?”
“Baby, I found entire forums dedicated to you. There are people fascinated with what you can do. Your reputation is much stronger than you believe it is, much more widespread. That’s why Harris came after you specifically.”
“Well, that and the fact that Evian Springs was likely too expensive for him,” Zander added.
“Probably,” Jared conceded. “That’s neither here nor there now, though. Harris has put all his eggs in Harper’s basket, and he wants her to join his team.”
“No, he wants me to lie about seeing ghosts and turn myself into an actress,” Harper countered. “That’s not something I’m comfortable doing.”
“And I don’t blame you. You’re open about what you can do. Harris either can’t or won’t see that.”
“I think it might be a combination of both,” Zander admitted. “When I was talking to him, it was as if he had tunnel vision. He couldn’t see beyond what he wanted. He’s created some fantasy world that’s taken over his reality.”
“Do you think that fantasy world involves committing murder in an effort to promote the greatest murder-mystery event in the state?” Jared queried.
It took a moment for the implication to set in with the group.
“Are you asking me if I think Harris is capable of murder?” Zander asked finally.
Jared shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t carry out the murder himself. Maybe he hired someone else to do it.”
“Except he has no money,” Shawn argued. “How could he finance a killing without cash?”
“Maybe he’s not as broke as we think,” Jared argued. “Maybe he’s only pretending to be broke.”
“To what end?” Harper challenged. “How does pretending to be out of money benefit him?”
“It might get a certain blonde to take pity on him and join the payroll.”
Harper immediately started shaking her head. “That was never going to happen. How can you even think that?”
“I don’t think it. He might’ve thought it, though.”
“I still don’t understand, though,” Harper persisted. “Do you really think he would kill Leslie just to further his business interests?”
“Money is an interesting motivator. Most people can’t imagine killing for it. Others, though ... .”
“To some, money is everything,” Shawn volunteered from his spot next to Zander. “I had an uncle who thought nothing of ripping off family members to further a drug habit. He practically tore my mother’s family apart when I was a teenager.”
“That’s different, though,” Jared noted. “Your uncle was in the grips of addiction. That can change brain chemistry. I’m not making excuses for him, but drugs can alter reality. In this particular case, I believe it’s possible Harris altered his own reality ... and not because of drugs but because of greed.”
“This camp could turn out to be nothing, though,” Harper pointed out. “It might never make him a dime.”
“And think how terrifying that would be for a man like Harris, someone who clearly puts a premium on money over people.”
“I ... still don’t understand how I play into all of this.” Harper held out her hands. “Are you saying that Harris killed her because he thought that would somehow lure me in?”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” he reassured her. “Harris could very well be innocent. All we know is he seems manic ... and fixated, to the point where he lied to his employees. It could be an innocent mistake. It could be something more, though.”
“So, how do we figure it out?” Shawn queried.
“Right now we get some sleep. I want to think on this, but I’m tired. We’ll start figuring things over breakfast and go from there.”
“That sounds like a good plan to me. We’re all exhausted. We should head back together.”
“Definitely.” Jared extended his hand toward Harper. “Are you appropriately sugared up?”
Harper nodded. “Yup. I’m totally ready to punish you for eating s’mores without me.”
Jared’s grin was impish. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“I guess so.”
DESPITE JARED’S WORRIES OVER THE SUGAR, Harper had no problem falling asleep. She curled into the nook between his neck and shoulder and drifted off within minutes. She almost didn’t hear Jared’s murmured “I love you” before she was dragged under.
At first she went nowhere, merely drifted in the darkness. Then slowly, the clearing from her previous dream started taking shape. When her vision sharpened, she let loose a sigh and made an exasperated sound deep in her throat.
“Really? I was hoping for a good night’s sleep.”
“That’s always a good thing to get,” a female voice offered from behind her, causing Harper to snap her head in that direction.
It wasn’t Leslie, much to Harper’s surprise. It was the other ghost, the brunette she’d caught a glimpse of in the foliage before Harris interrupted them during the early morning hours.
“Hello.” Harper openly gaped as she tried to wrap her head around the new development. “I wasn’t sure I would see you again.”
“No?” The woman offered a wan smile, giving Harper a wide berth as she circled to the fallen log in the middle of the clearing. “I knew I would see you again.”
“You did, huh?” Harper folded her arms across her chest and watched the ghost circle. The woman had a lot of nervous energy, which felt out of place given the circumstances. “How did you know we would cross paths again?”
“Because your mind is an open book. You should be careful, especially given what you can do, to close off avenues of entry. Evil forces would gladly take over your mind if you give them the chance.”
Harper didn’t know what to say. “I guess I’ve never thought about that.”
“Which is surprising,” the woman noted. “You see evil every day of your life, and yet you don’t fear it.”
“I don’t see much sense in allowing fear to take over my life. Who wants to live that way? If something bad happens, it will be sad, and I’ll work to ensure a good outcome, but allowing the fear to turn me into someone I don’t recognize, or actively dislike, is the same as losing.”
“Ah.” The ghost nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Is winning important to you?”
Harper shrugged. “I don’t know. I would like to think I’m not a competitive person, but I recognize that’s not true. I like to win as much as anybody. I would hope I don’t let that overtake me either.”
“Yes, competitive people are the worst.” The woman’s smile was rueful. “I was a competitive person in life. What’s worse is that I wanted to make my daughter a competitive person because I believed that would help her get farther in life. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable assumption to me.”
Harper was surprised by the conversational shift, but she went with it. She wanted to keep the woman talking and this seemed like the best way to do that. “You have a daughter?”
“Yes.”
“What’s her name?”
“It doesn’t matter.” The woman let loose a sigh. “I lost track of her when I lost my life. It doesn’t matter who she is or what she does now. The things I wanted for her are ... unimportant. I guess they always were. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it.”
She seemed to be talking in a roundabout manner that Harper had trouble follow
ing. “Are you from this area?”
“Does it matter?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
She cocked her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said decisively. “Nothing matters.”
“Obviously something matters,” Harper argued. “If you no longer believed anything matters you wouldn’t be here. You would’ve simply faded from existence, allowed yourself to float to the other side. Something is keeping you here, and whatever it is, matters.”
The woman was silent for a beat and then held up her hands. “You would know better than me, I guess. You’re the one who deals with this on a regular basis.”
“I do, but I can’t tell you why you stayed behind. I need you to tell me that.”
“And what if I don’t know?”
“You know.” Harper was adamant. “You’re too angry not to know why you stayed.”
“That’s an interesting observation.” The ghost mimed scuffing her foot against the ground, probably something she did in life, and then lifted her chin to stare at the sky. “This isn’t my home.”
Harper nodded encouragingly. “Okay. You’re not a local. Can you tell me your name?”
The woman ignored the question. “I’ve never been one for the great outdoors. In fact, I hate the idea of sleeping on the ground ... and using community toilets. The only thing worse is the notion of having to squat behind a tree without toilet paper.”
Harper pressed her lips together, amused despite herself. “I should introduce you to my friend Zander. I’m pretty sure his belief system aligns with yours.”
“I always wanted to live in the city,” she explained. “I grew up on a farm and I hated it. I had to work from morning until night during the summer months, when I was supposed to be out having a good time with my friends. I resented my parents for it.
“I thought I would get away,” she continued, a far-off expression on her face. “I had grand visions of taking off for Chicago right after my high school graduation.”
Since Michigan’s biggest city was Detroit — and the violence there served as something of a deterrent — Harper knew many state high schoolers dreamed of Chicago. It was bigger, played host to more opportunities, and had a better pedigree. It wasn’t surprising this woman dreamed of Chicago as an escape.
“I always wanted to end up in New Orleans,” Harper admitted. “Those times when I locked myself in my room, convinced my parents were the worst people ever, I dreamed of a magical city and everything I read told me that New Orleans would turn out to be that city.”
“Did you ever visit?”
Harper shook her head. “No, but it’s still on my bucket list. I would like to visit eventually. I still have plenty of time.”
“What made you decide to stay behind?”
“I just realized that Whisper Cove was magical on its own and that I would be sad if I moved somewhere else. Is that what happened to you?”
The ghost shook her head. “No. I met a man and made a mistake, one that changed the course of my life forever. I had to stay behind and raise that mistake.”
Harper shifted from one foot to the other, unease washing over her. “You got pregnant.”
“I believe that’s what I just said.”
“How long ago was that?”
“A long time. So long, in fact, it’s no longer important.”
Harper didn’t believe that, but she decided to change course. “How did you end up here?”
“I came looking for answers — I had suspicions, you see — and I wanted to see if they were true.”
“And your suspicions, did they turn out to be true?”
The woman shrugged. “In some ways they did. In other ways, though ... .”
She talked in riddles. Harper had never been a big fan of riddles. “What’s your name?”
“Does it matter?”
Harper let loose a sigh. “It obviously matters. Why do you keep asking that question? I get that you’re defeated. This isn’t how you saw your life going. I can help you there.”
“You can help me?” The ghost looked intrigued. “How can you help me? Can you travel back in time and save me from … this?”
“No, but I can help you move on.” Harper hoped the woman would be open to what she could offer. “There’s more out there than this.”
“I know. That’s what I miss ... the more.”
“Not this life.” Harper adamantly shook her head. “This life is the start. Your life is the middle. Unfortunately, souls can get mired in the middle too long. I’m afraid that’s what happened to you.”
“And what comes after the middle?”
“I don’t know what you call it. There might not be a name. It’s a warm place, though. There’s love ... and bright light ... and peace. I can help you get there.”
“How do you know about this other place? According to you, you’re still at the beginning of your journey.”
“I’ve seen it.” Harper offered up a pretty smile. “I’ve seen flashes of it when I’ve helped others cross. I can do the same for you.”
“Maybe.” The ghost drifted closer to the trees, slowly allowing her eyes to track back to Harper. “You’re in danger if you stay here. You know that, right?”
Harper’s heart skipped a beat. “Me, specifically, or everybody involved?”
“You, specifically. You need to be careful. Tomorrow is the final day. Whatever’s to come will happen then.”
“I’ll be careful,” Harper promised. “I want to help you, though. Just tell me your name.”
She opened her mouth, and Harper knew what question would escape her lips.
“It matters,” Harper insisted.
The ghost held her gaze for a bit and then began to disappear.
“It matters,” Harper repeated. “Please.”
The ghost didn’t answer, but the wind did.
Holly Horton.
And then she was gone, and Harper drifted under again.
16
Sixteen
Harper floated into wakefulness on a sea of chirping birds the next morning. At first she thought she was trapped in another dream, but the view through the skylight reminded her of her current location.
“It’s the last day,” she murmured, dragging a hand through her hair.
Next to her, Jared shifted and nodded, his lips automatically brushing her forehead. “It is. We’re not leaving until tomorrow, though, so even though we’re supposed to solve the fake murder today, we still have one night under the stars to enjoy.”
“That sounds nice ... kind of.”
He smirked. “I take it camping trips in our house are going to be few and far between, huh?”
“I like sleeping under the stars. I just think it would be better if we did it in a hammock.”
“Believe it or not, most campgrounds don’t have hammocks.”
“Yeah, well ... .” She shifted, propping herself so she could stare down at his handsome face. “I don’t want to lie. We’ve both agreed that’s not a good idea.”
“I’m almost afraid to hear what you’re about to tell me.”
Her smile was rueful. “I’m not sure I’m geared toward camping. It’s not how I remember from when I was kid.”
“To be fair, this hasn’t been a normal camping trip. There’s usually not a dead body and two ghosts included in a regular camping trip.”
“That’s true. It’s not just that, though.” She wet her lips. “I don’t want you to compare me to Zander because that feels unfair but ... I only want to participate in campouts in our backyards from now on.”
He studied her face for a beat, registered the serious tilt of her head, and smirked. “I think that can be arranged.”
She was surprised by his response. “I thought you would be upset.”
“Because you don’t want to go camping?”
“Maybe.”
“I hate to break it to you, but I’d already come to this conclusion myself.”
“You had?
” Suddenly Harper felt guilty. “I don’t want to take this from you.”
“You’re not taking anything from me. I thought we agreed that Shawn and I would take future kids camping so you and Zander could have spa weekends.”
“I know, but I also said I would be willing to camp close to home.”
“Ah.” His lips curved. “I take it you’ve changed your mind on that front, too.”
“Yeah.” She traced her finger over his bottom lip. “I like the outdoors. I enjoy hiking ... and there’s nothing better than an afternoon spent in a hammock.”
“I happen to agree.”
“I just don’t like camping. It’s ... stupid.”
He had to swallow his laughter. “That’s a very Zander thing to say.”
“I know. I think that’s why it’s taken me so long to say it. I mean ... nobody wants to be the Zander of the group. I love him, but he’s so much work. I don’t want to be that much work.”
“You’re not work. You’re just being honest.”
“Yeah, well ... I hate camping.”
He smirked at the way she jutted out her lower lip.
“I miss hair dryers, too,” she continued. “I also miss being able to take a hot bath.”
“You loved the s’mores.”
“Yes, but we can build a bonfire pit at our house and make s’mores. I figured we would do that this summer anyway. There’s nothing better than snuggling up in front of a fire and staring at the sky.”
“Just not in a tent.”
“Pretty much.”
He was silent for a beat. “It’s okay. We don’t have to like the same things. I’m not a big fan of the spa. That can be your thing with Zander. The hammock can be your thing with me.”
“Oh, I plan on having multiple things with you. The hammock is just going to be one of my favorites.”
“I like that idea.” He trailed his fingers over the back of her neck, briefly wondering if he could lull her back to sleep for another hour. She was silent for so long he thought he might’ve accomplished his goal. Then she spoke.
“Holly Horton.”
“Hmm?” Jared was a bit sleepy himself when he stirred.
Ghostly Camping (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 16) Page 16