Ghostly Ordeal
A Harper Harlow Mystery Book Twelve
Lily Harper Hart
HarperHart Publications
Copyright © 2019 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
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
Mail List
Acknowledgments
Books by Lily Harper Hart
One
As far as winters go, Southeastern Michigan was mired in a particularly brutal one. Whisper Cove, which was located on the water, was being inundated with lake effect snow at least two times a week. And, while Harper Harlow happened to love a pretty snowstorm as long as she could sit in front of the fireplace watching it, the season was starting to feel too long.
“I think there should be a rule,” she said as she peered out the window with a mug of hot chocolate in her hand. “Snow is for Christmas and people who want to live in Canada. It should be banned from every other location once January kicks off.”
Her fiancé Jared Monroe looked up from the couch, amusement lining his features. He had a catalog resting on his lap and adoration in his eyes. “You don’t like being snowed in with me, huh?”
Harper, her blond hair longer than normal, shook her head. “It’s fine. I don’t mind being snowed in with you. It’s just ... I kind of like it when we can spend our quality time together outside.”
“You mean you wish we could hammock.” Jared’s gaze traveled back to the catalog. “I was just looking at hammocks. Why don’t you come over here and join me so we can pick one out, huh?”
Harper merely rolled her eyes. “I’m not going over there. I know what will happen if we snuggle together on the couch and look at hammocks. We’ll end up ... you know.”
Her expression was so dainty, so out of place, Jared could do nothing but laugh. “Since when are you opposed to doing ... you know?” His eyes gleamed with flirty intent.
“I’m not opposed to it. I just think you have to wait until after five.”
He furrowed his brow. “Since when is that the rule? We’ve done it ... you know ... plenty of times before five.”
“Yes,” she agreeably bobbed her head. “But all those times were in the morning, before noon. We didn’t technically get up from bed before doing it so they were considered continuations of the previous evening, which is totally allowed.”
Jared was beyond confused. “I didn’t realize there were rules we had to follow.”
“Not necessarily rules,” she hedged. “It’s just ... it’s weird to do it in the middle of the afternoon.”
Jared moved the catalog to the coffee table and fixed his full attention on her. Their new house — which was directly across the road from her old house — was almost completely put together. They still had several boxes hidden in the front closet so they could ignore them without guilt and were now looking forward to adding new pieces ... because there were currently some big holes in their decorating schematic.
The plan was to spend the day — they both had it off — filling some of those holes. Apparently Harper had other things on her mind.
“I have to believe I’ve romanced you in the afternoon before,” Jared pressed. “It seems completely unlike me to ignore that time of day.”
“You have romanced me in the afternoon,” she agreed, sipping her hot cocoa and grinning. She’d picked up on the change in his mood and found it entertaining. “It’s only been at appropriate times, though, like when we were on vacation that one time ... or we had the day off on a weekend.”
She said it with such conviction that Jared found himself wondering if she was right. “You’ve been keeping track, have you?”
“It’s not that I’ve been keeping track as much as I would’ve noticed if we played Hide and Seek in the middle of the afternoon. I’m weird that way.”
“You’re definitely weird,” he agreed. “You’re just the right amount of weird, though.” He pursed his lips as he regarded her. “I don’t suppose you’d like to break that streak, would you?”
She chuckled, obviously amused. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s the middle of the day, after all.”
“A snowy day.” He jabbed his finger toward the window by way of proof. “I think we should have a serious discussion about this. I don’t want to be predictable.”
“We’re not predictable.” Harper finished her hot cocoa and left the mug on the dining room table before cutting over to the couch where Jared sat. “I see ghosts for a living,” she reminded him. “You believe me without question and never give me grief about it. How could that ever be construed as predictable?”
It was a sound argument, but Jared was having none of it. “Why don’t you sit on my lap when you say that?”
“No way.” Her expression was playful as she darted around his outstretched arms. “We have a million things to do. We’re supposed to be deciding on furniture and other necessities. We have one couch, a really old table my mother found at a garage sale and insisted we borrow from her, and like two pots and pans. We need to get serious about decorating this place.”
“Oh, I’m serious.” His eyes sparked with interest as she did a little dance. “Let’s take the catalogs into the bedroom and flip through them in there.”
“If we go in the bedroom ... .”
“We’ll have a lovely afternoon,” he finished. “You’d better start running now because I’m going to catch you, Heart.”
She chuckled. “I don’t think we should be inappropriate like this. We should be grown-ups.”
“Start running.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’m going to catch you.”
“I believe you’ve already caught me.” She edged toward the hallway. “Are you going to do it twice?”
“I’m going to do it for the rest of our lives.” He hopped to his feet. “Here I come.”
AN HOUR LATER, JARED HAD A lazy smile on his face as Harper cuddled next to him in bed. The snow continued to fall outside, creating a cozy atmosphere as he tucked in the blankets around her.
“So much for your theory regarding afternoon entertainment,” he drawled.
She giggled as she brushed her hand over his chest. “I haven’t been proven wrong on that point. We’re supposed to be picking furniture. That was the whole point of taking the day off together.”
“I thought the whole point was that we saw the forecast over the weekend and didn’t want to deal with the snow,” he challenged. “We decided to take personal days ahead of time so we could watch the snow fall from the safety of our new house. We even stocked up on groceries and everything.”
“That was simply an added benefit.”
He moved his hands over her back, taking a moment to enjoy the way her body fit against his. “We should look at furniture, though.” He blindly felt along the small table he was using as a nightstand and came back with a Pier One catalog. “Oh, look what I found.”
Harper laughed as she rolled to his side, remaining comfortable in t
he crook of his arm as he opened the catalog. “That’s convenient.”
“It is,” he agreed, his hand automatically smoothing her mussed hair. “We have a lot of decisions to make, Heart. It’s time to get serious.” He used his most authoritative voice. “We have like five pieces of furniture and the only comfortable piece is the couch I brought ... and you hate the pattern.”
She balked. “I don’t hate the pattern,” she countered. “It’s just ... okay, I hate the pattern. I simply don’t like red plaid. It’s weird.”
“So, we’ll pick out a new couch.”
He said it in such an easy manner that Harper felt odd arguing with him. Still, she knew it was necessary before they disappeared down a rabbit hole and found themselves in financial trouble. “We both spent a decent amount of money on this place,” she noted, choosing her words carefully. “We have some put away, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to spend all of it on furniture.”
Jared slid her a sidelong look. “What do you mean? You want to keep living like this? The only good pieces of furniture we have are your bed from the other house and the beanbag I brought from my teenage room at home.”
“And the nightstand.” She gestured toward her side of the bed, to where the matching nightstand rested.
“And the nightstand,” he agreed. “We need another nightstand, though. I have stuff I like to keep close to the bed. Your dresser also matches the set, but it’s not big enough for two sets of clothes, so we need another dresser.”
“I got the set at Art Van. We can head over there.”
Jared pursed his lips. “We will. I just think we should wait until it’s not snowing. Maybe we can do that over the weekend.”
“You just want to see if you can get in another round of naughty afternoon sex,” she admonished.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I guess not.” She rested her head on his chest as he flipped through the catalog. “I wasn’t trying to be a pain when I suggested we not spend all our money right away. It’s just ... it makes me nervous to drain my savings account completely. When I first went into the ghost hunting business, I told myself that it would only be an option as long as I didn’t go into debt.
“My parents screamed up and down about debt during their fights when I was a kid,” she continued. “My father saw nothing wrong with debt and my mother absolutely hated it. She also hated not having nice things ... so she added to the debt as much as him. I mistakenly thought they were fighting only about the debt for a time, so it warped my view a bit.”
“I guess that makes sense.” He brushed his lips over her forehead as he considered what she was saying. “I don’t see how we can add living room furniture without replacing the couch. It all needs to match.”
“It definitely needs to match,” she agreed. “That doesn’t mean we need a new couch, though. The couch itself is comfortable. What if we just get a cover for it?”
“I didn’t even think about that.” His fingers were light as they trailed down her spine. “I don’t see why we can’t do that. Then we can get some comfortable chairs and a table. That table we’re using looks as if it came from the world’s worst garage sale.”
“It probably did,” Harper said. “My mother picked up a lot of dinnerware – and that table – from friends right before we moved. I’m guessing those friends couldn’t unload the things we were given and that’s how we ended up with them.”
“That makes me feel better.” He kissed her cheek and turned another page. “I get what you’re saying about not emptying our accounts. The house was a big purchase. My job is regular, though. I’m not in danger of anything bad happening. I can take care of both of us going forward if it’s necessary.”
Instead of reacting with relief, as he expected, Harper fixed him with a dark look. “Excuse me?”
Jared sensed he’d stepped into the thick of it but wasn’t sure how he managed it. “Um ... what?”
Harper’s frustration was palpable. “I’m fully capable of adding to the joint finances.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“You insinuated it.”
“I most certainly did not,” Jared shot back, refusing to back down. “I know you’re going to add to the finances. I never doubted that for a second. There’s no need to get all worked up about it.”
“What makes you think I’m worked up?”
“I’ve met you.”
Harper’s expression darkened. “I think you’re being a pain in the butt. All I said was that I was capable of adding to the finances. We’re doing this together. That’s what we agreed on when we decided to move in together.”
“And then we got engaged.” He tapped the engagement ring he’d bought her with the help and guidance of her best friend Zander. “Things are slightly different now that we’re getting married.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Well ... for starters, you’re going to be my wife.”
Harper pulled back so she could prop herself on an elbow and stare at him. “And you’re going to be my husband. How does that change anything?”
“It’s my job to make sure you’re taken care of.” Jared barreled forward, oblivious to the minefield he was about to walk into. “I have to make sure you get everything you need and that’s what I intend to do.”
Harper narrowed her sea-blue eyes until they were nothing more than glittery slits. “And what’s my job?”
“What do you mean?”
“If your job is to take care of me — probably because I’m a weak female, right? — then what’s my job?”
It was only then that Jared realized he’d made a colossal mistake. “Oh, well ... .”
Harper waited, practically daring him to add to the trouble he was already facing.
“You’re looking at this the wrong way.” Jared regrouped quickly and squeezed her waist under the covers. “I wasn’t saying that I didn’t think you could help. I know you can help. I want you to help.”
“You just think you have a greater responsibility to take care of me than I have to take care of you.”
“No. That’s not what I was saying.” Jared extended a warning finger. He sensed the conversation slipping away from him and that’s the last thing he wanted. “We’re both equals in this relationship. You know I see you that way. Don’t make this a thing.”
“Oh, I would never make this a thing.” Harper rolled her eyes as her phone dinged on the nightstand. “I think you’ve made this a thing all on your own.”
Jared couldn’t disagree with her, even though he really wanted to. “Ignore whoever that is … especially if it’s Zander. I thought we decided to spend the day together with no interruptions.”
“Trust me. An interruption can only do you some good right now.” Harper flopped on her side of the bed and answered the call. She expected to hear Zander on the other end. They used to share the house across the road together, and the proximity of the new house was one of the major selling points when Jared selected it because he knew Harper wouldn’t do well if she was separated from her best friend, and they were still adjusting to not being on top of each other all the time. Instead of her best friend, though, she found her mother waiting with breathy anticipation.
“Hello, Harper.” She sounded chirpier than usual, something Harper wasn’t sure how to gauge.
“Hello, Mom.” Harper ignored the face Jared made. Her mother was difficult under the best of circumstances. This was obviously not going to be one of those days. Still, she was glad for a break from the conversation. She sensed it would get out of hand before either of them could rein it in. “What’s up?”
“Oh, well, you know.” Gloria Harlow was the prim sort. She liked to get the niceties of a conversation out of the way before drilling deep. Harper was used to it so she didn’t think twice when Gloria started to babble. “This snow is something, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m not a big fan of the snow,” Harper agreed, wiggling away from Jared when he tri
ed walking his fingers over her midriff.
“You’re not out chasing ghosts in this, are you?” Gloria wasn’t a fan of Harper’s chosen profession. When her only daughter admitted to seeing ghosts as a child, she was convinced Harper was plagued with mental illness. It was only after a few harrowing rescues and other feats that shouldn’t have been possible that Gloria began believing Harper was special. That didn’t make her happy, however. In fact, there were times Harper was convinced her mother would’ve preferred it if she really was suffering from some form of mental malaise because that would’ve given Gloria something to fix.
As it was now, there was nothing technically wrong with Harper. That didn’t mean Gloria wasn’t regularly searching for a cure.
“I’m home,” Harper replied, making a face when Jared’s hand started creeping toward her. “Hold on a minute.” She held the phone away from her mouth and glared at her fiancé. “I’m not happy with you right now. Stop doing that.”
“Not until you forgive me.” Jared tickled her ribs. “I don’t want this to ruin our day.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I can tell from my mother’s tone that she’s about to tell me something that will ruin our day. You’re free and clear from the blame.” Harper returned the phone to her ear. “We’re looking at furniture catalogs.”
“Oh, that sounds nice.” Gloria was obviously distracted because she didn’t utter one passive aggressive comment when Harper brought up her furniture situation. Gloria had been fretting about the hodgepodge of furniture for weeks. “Do you think you can abandon that for a little bit and visit me?”
Harper found the question odd given the fact that her mother was a weather alarmist under normal circumstances. “Um ... well ... it’s kind of bad out.”
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