Ghostly Ordeal

by Lily Harper Hart

“He wants to know if ghost sex is a thing,” Harper added.

  “That’s kind of gross. I mean ... well ... is it a thing?” Zander changed his opinion on a dime. “I would kind of like to hear the answer to that.”

  “See!” Carl puffed out his ethereal chest. “It’s not just me. People want to know stuff like this.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Harper pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead to center herself. “I need to know if you’ve given some thought to your death, Carl. It’s important that we figure out who killed you.”

  “I have given it some thought.” Carl was grave. “I know exactly who killed me.”

  “You do?” Hope welled in Harper’s chest. “Who?”

  “It was a conglomerate of people I beat in the court system.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They want me to pay because they were on the losing end of my magical presence and that’s how I ended up here.”

  Harper blinked several times in rapid succession. “Did you make that up in your head?” she asked finally.

  “No. It’s a real thing.”

  “It is not.”

  “It is, too.”

  “It is not.”

  “It is, too.”

  “It is not!” Harper practically exploded. “A conglomerate of the people you beat in court didn’t join together to kill you. It was a specific person.”

  Carl made a sniffing sound. “There’s no need to be rude. I believe I’ve been through enough without having to put up with your attitude. I’m the one who is dead.”

  “I’m sorry.” Harper held up her hands in defeat. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just ... your neighbor says that my mother was here the night before you died. She says that you and my mother were arguing. Do you remember that?”

  Carl’s expression turned thoughtful as he considered the question. “I don’t know. Who is your mother again?”

  If he wasn’t already dead, Harper would’ve throttled him on the spot. “Gloria Harlow,” she gritted out.

  “Oh, right.” Carl brightened considerably. “You’re much more attractive than your mother. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “What did he say?” Zander asked when Harper’s expression turned murderous. “Did he say anything good? Please tell me he cleared your mother.”

  Harper ignored the questions. “Carl, this is important. Do you remember arguing with my mother?”

  “Vaguely,” he replied after a moment’s contemplation. “I seem to remember having a brief kerfuffle. I don’t believe it was a big deal, though. A pillow might’ve been thrown. She certainly didn’t kill me.”

  Harper was ridiculously relieved to hear him say it even though she already believed the exact same thing. “Great. That’s good.”

  “Although ... she was only going home for a little bit and then she was coming back. I can’t quite seem to remember her coming back. I guess it’s possible she killed me during her return visit. She was the only one I was expecting, after all.”

  Harper frowned. “What? Are you saying she was supposed to come back?”

  “Yes. She had a few errands to run. I was going to pop a Viagra while she was gone so I could wow her.”

  Harper slapped her hand over her eyes, which was a ridiculous gesture because her ears were what were currently being offended. “Oh, my ... I don’t need to hear about your Viagra habits!”

  Zander snorted. “Oh, did he need the little blue pill to romance your mother? That is so ... wait. Ask him how he expects to have ghost sex if he needs Viagra. I very much doubt anyone is manufacturing ghost erection pills.”

  Harper glared at him. “Is that important right now?”

  “They don’t make ghost Viagra?” Carl was beside himself. “That has to be a mistake. Who can I talk to if I want to rectify this situation? It can’t be allowed to continue.”

  Harper suddenly felt weary as she glanced between the whiny ghost and her shivering best friend. For the first time in a long time, she felt helpless. The last time she could remember feeling that way she was walking through a field, looking for the ghost of her dead boyfriend. Sure, that boyfriend turned out to be alive and a criminal, but at the time she didn’t know that.

  Back then, she used to feel helpless quite often. She had no idea what she was going to do with her life or how she was going to move forward. Luckily for her, that was no longer the case.

  “You need to think about what happened to you, Carl,” Harper admonished. “It’s important. You were killed and there’s a murderer on the loose. He or she could strike again. Do you want that?”

  Carl held his hands palms out and shrugged. “I can’t decide why I’m supposed to care. I mean ... I’m already dead. If others die it’s no longer my concern.”

  “You’re all heart, Carl. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “No, and I would smack them if they did. A heart gets you nothing but trouble. I’m a survivor.”

  Harper found his response laughable. “You’re not a survivor. You’re dead.”

  “Well ... you know what I mean.”

  And, because she did, all Harper could do was nod. “Think about the night you died,” she ordered. “Think about what happened after my mother left. Something happened. You were killed. I would think you’re not the sort of man who will just sit back and allow that to happen without consequences. I mean ... don’t you want payback?”

  Carl didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he stared at her so soulfully Harper was convinced he was going to finally say something of merit. When he did open his mouth, she was more disappointed than ever. “You’re hotter than your mother. I wish I would’ve met you before I died. We could’ve had some real fun.”

  She glowered at him. “Think about who killed you! I’m serious. I don’t want to hear another bit of nonsense about your non-existent libido. If you needed Viagra, it doesn’t count.”

  “You tell him, Harper.” Zander hunched down in his coat. “Now, can we go? I can’t take another second of this cold.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’re going. I’ll be back, Carl. You better have done some thinking by the time I swing around again. I’ll be mad if you don’t.”

  “Is that supposed to scare me?” Carl drawled. “Mad women are something of a hobby of mine.”

  “You’ve never met a woman like me before. Think about it. I’m serious. I need to know who killed you.”

  “I’ll think about it ... as long as you ask the powers that be about ghost Viagra. I think it’s only fair.”

  “Consider it done.”

  JARED WAS EXHAUSTED WHEN HE returned home after his shift. On a whim, he stopped by the local diner long enough to pick up two chicken pot pies — they were favorites for both Harper and him — and he was filled with trepidation when he rounded the corner that led to the house. The relief he felt when he saw Harper’s car in the driveway was profound. That feeling only lasted until he realized he had a fight in front of him, though. Then he deflated.

  It was time for round two.

  Jared paused by the front door long enough to kick off his shoes and remove his coat. The living room was empty, which caused his heart to ping, but some of the stress he’d been carrying for the better part of the afternoon evaporated when he found her in the kitchen.

  “Hey, Heart.”

  She turned quickly. She hadn’t heard him enter the house. She was surprised by his stealthy feet. Even more, she was upset by the look of fear on his face. “Hi.”

  “How was your afternoon?” He rested the pot pies on the counter.

  “It was a waste of time. Zander and I tracked down Carl again. He’s a dirty pervert. There’s no other way to describe him. He keeps talking about ghost Viagra and I really do want to kill him all over again.”

  For some reason, her insistence on talking about a ghost encounter as if it was a normal day made Jared feel better. “Everyone we’ve talked to said he was a terrible guy. There is no one we’ve found who holds him up as a para
gon of virtue.”

  “That’s because he’s gross.”

  “Yeah, well ... .”

  Harper tilted her head in the direction of the pot pies. “What’s that?”

  “Our favorite pot pies.” He was rueful. “I thought comfort food was a necessity.”

  She chuckled, catching him off guard. “I thought the same. I got bread bowls from the diner, clam chowder, and cheesecake.”

  “What kind of cheesecake?”

  “Pumpkin.”

  He laughed. “I guess we both went with the comfort food, huh? Now I kind of want clam chowder.”

  “I want all of it.” Harper rubbed her hands over the front of her pants to dry her sweaty palms. “Before that, though ... I’m sorry.”

  Jared cocked his head, unsure he heard her correctly. “What?”

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “How I treated you this afternoon, it wasn’t right. I’m really sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

  He didn’t know what to say. “I believe that’s supposed to be my line.”

  “Why are you sorry?” she asked, guileless. “You’re not the one who flew off the handle for no good reason. You’re not the one who acted like a big baby.”

  Her words were more comforting than anything else she could’ve offered him at that moment. “Baby? You’re not a baby. She’s your mother. You have a right to be upset.”

  “Not at you.” Harper’s eyes were clear. “You were doing your job. I can’t expect you not to do your job. It’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair. I should’ve told you that it was likely we would have to take your mother in for official questioning.”

  “Why? It’s not my business. You’re a police officer. That means you have to explain yourself to the public, not to me. Besides, I’ve been around enough police investigations that I know the drill. It’s definitely not fair that I attacked you the way I did ... and I’m sorry.”

  Jared forgot about the pot pies ... and the clam chowder ... and the misery he’d been carrying around for the better part of the day. He moved around the counter, pulled her to him, and inhaled her scent as he wrapped his arms around her. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Everything inside that had seemed so rigid only seconds before unclenched as Harper let loose a long sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “You definitely don’t need to be sorry.”

  “Fine. Nobody is sorry.”

  They clung to each other for several minutes. Finally, when they pulled apart, Harper was rueful. “We’re okay, right?”

  “We are.” He smoothed her hair. “I have some things to talk to you about. We had another conversation with Junior and I thought you would want to hear his take on things. For the record, he doesn’t believe your mother is a murderer.”

  As if finally remembering Gloria had been living under their roof, Jared gripped Harper’s shoulders and stared toward the hallway that led to the guest bedroom. “Are they here?”

  She chuckled at the abject horror winding over his features. “No. Dad took her to his house because I exploded all over them when I came back and found them in our kitchen. Mom was going to make liver and onions.”

  Jared’s expression soured even further. “Because she hates us?”

  “She claims otherwise, that it’s healthy, but I have my doubts.” Harper pressed her head to Jared’s chest and basked in his warmth for a long beat. “Dad promised to keep her out of trouble for a bit. I have no idea if he’s capable of that, but I need a break from them.”

  “You and me both.” Jared tightened his grip on the thing that mattered most to him. “I know I’m supposed to keep opinions like this to myself, but it’s a miracle you’re normal. Your parents are so screwed up I can’t believe you’re not locked up in a home.”

  “Yeah, well ... I would like to lock them up in a home.”

  “Perhaps we can make that happen after we get past the current maelstrom.”

  “I’m all for that.” Harper shifted so she could brush a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “This is nice. I’m glad we made up.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I’m really hungry, though. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  “That makes two of us.” He planted a loud kiss on her lips and then released her. “Let’s eat pot pies and clam chowder in bread bowls, stuff ourselves with cheesecake, and tune out the rest of the world. How does that sound?”

  “Good ... as soon as you tell me what Carl’s son said.”

  “Ah.” He tapped his temple. “I should’ve known you would want to hear more about that. How about I tell you while we’re getting everything ready and then we put it behind us, at least for tonight?”

  “I think I can live with that.”

  “Good.” Jared moved to the counter so he could start unboxing the pot pies. “Carl Jr. says that he’s met your mother a few times. Only once when she was with his father, though, and they never had what could be constituted as a meaningful conversation.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.” Harper donned padded oven mitts so she could retrieve the bread bowls she was keeping warm in the oven. “How did he meet her?”

  “Apparently your mother makes the rounds in lawyer circles.”

  “Ah.” Harper made a face. “Yeah, I should’ve seen that coming. I have no idea why my mother is so insistent on dating lawyers. It’s ... weird.”

  Jared chuckled. “I know why she does it. They’re snakes in the grass. She doesn’t want to become attached to any of them.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. She’s always looking for a soulmate.”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s already found him.”

  “Who?”

  Jared stared at her a beat, dumbfounded. “Your father,” he said when it became obvious that Harper couldn’t see what was right in front of her face. “Your mother is still in love with your father.”

  Harper was flabbergasted. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. She is not.”

  “Oh, she is.” Jared refused to back down. He was determined to get everything out in the open and put it behind them. “Harper, I know it’s freaking you out, but the fact that your parents are still doing it on a regular basis despite being separated explains a heckuva lot. They’re still in love with each other.

  “That’s why they’re fighting over the cuckoo clock and a very old Department 56 plate collection,” he continued. “They don’t really want those things. They simply want to remain entwined in each other’s lives. The second they run out of things to argue about, they’ll admit it to each other and get back together.”

  “That is ... .” Harper wanted to argue with him. She wanted to say that he’d lost his mind. The more she thought about it, though, the more confused she felt. “Do you think it’s possible that they have real feelings for each other?”

  “Of course.”

  “But ... they’ve always hated one another. Even when I was little, they hated one another.”

  “Have you ever heard the saying that it’s a very fine line between love and hate? Your parents are proof of that. They love and hate one another.”

  “But ... I don’t understand how this even happened.” Harper was at a loss. “If they love each other, why not be kind to one another? It works for us. It could work for other people, too. That probably sounds schmaltzy to say, but I believe it.”

  He chuckled as he carried the pot pies to the table. “Your parents aren’t us. They thrive on the drama. We like a little drama in our lives, too. That’s what we have Zander for. They don’t have Zander so they create their own drama. I don’t think they’re ever going to outgrow it.”

  “Do you honestly think they should stay together?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what they’re going to do ... and they aren’t going to allow you or me to lodge an opinion on their lives.
All we can do is sit back and watch the train wreck.”

  “I guess.” Harper didn’t look convinced. “I’m glad we don’t need their brand of drama. I prefer hammocks and pot pies.”

  He grinned. “You and me both. We can’t force your parents to do what we want, though. The faster you come to terms with that, the easier it will be to push your annoyance with them to the back burner. You can’t dictate who they are.”

  “I guess.” She rubbed her forehead. “Let’s stop talking about them for a bit. Let’s start talking about us instead. How does that sound?”

  “Like music to my ears. Let’s stuff ourselves with comfort food until we’re going to burst and then go to bed.”

  Harper cocked a dubious eyebrow. “You want to go to bed at seven?”

  “Yup. We need to finish making up in the bedroom.”

  “Ah.” Her smile was sly. “I guess that can be arranged.”

  “I thought you might say that.”

  Thirteen

  Harper woke in a cocoon of warmth. She was draped around Jared, his arms tight, and they were buried in covers.

  His mouth was ticklish on her neck as he woke her with zest.

  “I take it you’re feeling frisky,” she noted as she found her voice. “I didn’t think that was possible after last night.”

  “We’ve never really fought before,” he noted as he rubbed his cheek against hers. “I thought we should go overboard making up. That’s the right thing to do.”

  “It is, huh?”

  “Definitely.” He kissed her jaw. “I don’t want to get up. I wish we could stay in bed the entire day, shut out the world and eat cheesecake while wearing nothing but smiles. I don’t suppose that’s possible, though, is it?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” They lapsed into comfortable silence, snow flitting past the window. It would only leave a light dusting behind. It was beautiful from their vantage point, but they would have to join the real world eventually, and then it would be a nuisance. “I have an idea for you today.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She laughed. “I think I’m kind of tired from the ideas you had last night.”