Ghostly Images (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 5) Read online

  Ghostly Images

  A Harper Harlow Mystery Book Five

  Lily Harper Hart

  HarperHart Publications

  Contents

  Copyright

  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

  21. Twenty-One

  22. Twenty-Two

  23. Twenty-Three

  Mail List

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Lily Harper Hart

  Copyright © 2017 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

  1

  One

  “Watch your hair!”

  Zander Pritchett scorched his best friend Harper Harlow with a dark look, annoyance practically rolling off him in waves as he pressed his hand to the spot above his heart.

  “Watch my hair?” Harper fought the urge to pinch Zander’s flank, mostly because she would have to run twenty feet to accomplish it and an angry ghost separated the duo and offered mayhem if she tried. She wasn’t worried about her hair – er, well, not much. She was more worried about avoiding the furious ghost zipping back and forth between the mill and parking lot. The overgrown path between the building and cracked-cement rectangle that was located close to the road was hardly safe given their circumstances, and the distance between Harper and Zander felt daunting despite the bright sunshine and warm breeze.

  “I spent an hour doing your hair this morning,” Zander reminded her, his eyes flashing as he pressed his back against a tree. His knees ached from his position, crouching low to the ground to keep out of sight, but he’d rather risk sore joints than an errant ghost elbow – or something worse – marring his perfect features. Unlike Harper, he couldn’t see ghosts. That didn’t mean he couldn’t recognize the fuss their invisible friend was kicking up or the inherent danger associated with their current predicament. “I’m going to be really angry if you mess it up and I have to fix it.”

  Harper made an exaggerated face. She was used to Zander’s whims, but even she had limits. Since they were in the middle of a day that started with an argument in bed, moved on to a snit over oatmeal, and then ran smack dab into an angry mill worker who died fifty years before and didn’t want to leave his earthly resting place, she’d crossed that limit at least twenty minutes ago.

  “You’re the one who insisted on doing my hair,” she started.

  Zander offered her a derisive snort. “That is not how I remember it. I believe your exact words were ‘Zander, I’m in trouble with Jared and I need to look really good for our lunch date so he forgets he’s irritated with me.’ Because I’m a good friend, I took pity on you and now you look beautiful.”

  Harper narrowed her sea-blue eyes. “Are you saying I don’t look beautiful without your help?”

  Zander knew enough about women to realize he’d stepped in it, but that didn’t stop him from blowing past her evil expression. “You’re always beautiful, Harp. I knew it first, in case you’ve forgotten. I told you in kindergarten that you were beautiful.”

  “Um, you told me in kindergarten that I looked like Supergirl when I tied a towel around my neck and pretended I could fly.”

  “It’s the same thing,” Zander said, unruffled. “If you picked Wonder Woman instead I would’ve upgraded that to most beautiful woman in the world.”

  “Why is Wonder Woman better?”

  “She has better accessories and boots. Plus, well, I love you dearly, Harp, but your shoulders aren’t broad enough to make people believe you have super human strength.”

  Harper had no idea how he did it, but somehow she felt insulted. “My shoulders are fine!”

  “They’re fine for a bustier. They’re not fine for a full leotard. Also, well, you’re kind of flat-chested. You can’t pull off a big emblem like Supergirl. Wonder Woman doesn’t have that problem.”

  Now Harper was convinced that she’d been doubly insulted. “I am not flat-chested!”

  “You’re not without curves, don’t get me wrong, but you’re hardly on par with the Kardashians.”

  Harper made a disgusted face. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

  “I have so much to teach you,” Zander lamented, sighing before he ducked his head to avoid a rock that slammed against the tree trunk right next to his ear. “Leonard Gibbons is not handling this well, by the way. When are you going to help him move to the other side?”

  Leonard Gibbons was a 1950s mill foreman who accidentally fell into the moving wheel during a sudden spring storm. How? That was one of those urban legends that had different answers depending on who was asking the question.

  According to the Whisper Cove Historical Society, which consisted of Delta Dobson and a microfiche machine, Leonard lost his footing thanks to a huge gust of wind and he fell through one of the upper doors and landed on the wheel, dying instantaneously. Given Leonard’s anger, Harper didn’t believe that for a second.

  According to other gossip, which basically consisted of Doris Martin repeating what her mother told her one drunken night twenty years before, one of Leonard’s workers was having an affair with his wife. The worker shoved Leonard through the second-story door … and then proceeded to marry his wife. Whisper Cove’s public records showed that Barbara Ray Gibbons had married suspiciously fast after becoming a widow, but no formal charges were ever brought.

  Either way, Harper didn’t have a lot of options. As co-owner of Ghost Hunters, Inc., she’d been hired to do a job. The old mill, which sat vacant for decades, was due to be torn down in less than a week. A new outdoor market would be erected in its spot and Leonard’s propensity for haunting – which included purposely tripping people and trying to drown them in the nearby river – had to end before construction crews descended.

  That’s why Harper and Zander were there. Their job was to help displaced spirits cross over. They’d been doing it for years and had built up quite the reputation. Most of that reputation was even good, their nonstop banter notwithstanding.

  “Leonard is a real douche,” Harper said, carefully pushing a strand of her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear. “I guess we know why someone pushed him.”

  “You can’t say that,” Zander argued. “He might’ve been perfectly fine in life. Perhaps a harsh death is what turned him into a douche. You don’t know.”

  “I guess that’s fair,” Harper conceded. “He’s definitely a douche now, though.”

  “Oh, definitely.” Zander glanced over his shoulder to scan the uneven path leading to the mill. He hadn’t even made it inside before Leonard attacked. It was as if he knew what Zander and Harper were there to attempt. “How do you want to handle this?”

  “Well, I was thinking I would run in your direction and when Leonard chases after me you can toss out the dreamcatcher. Easy peasy.”

  “I can’t believe you just said ‘easy peasy,’” Zander grumbled, annoyed. “If I didn’t know better I would think you were drunk
or something.”

  Harper balked. “Lots of people use that expression.”

  “No one I would ever be seen in public with,” Zander countered, tilting his head to the side as Leonard began to wail. “We need to do something. The longer we stay and do nothing, the more riled up he gets.”

  “And the more riled up he gets, the more at risk my hair becomes.”

  “I knew it!” Zander extended a finger. “You are worried about your hair. Admit it.”

  Harper heaved out a sigh. “Fine. I admit it. I’m having lunch with Jared. After this morning, I want to look pretty.”

  Zander’s expression softened. “You always look pretty, Harp. Jared knows that. He’s not really angry about this morning.”

  “He seemed angry.”

  “I think he just likes acting tough,” Zander offered. “He’s kind of like one of the thugs in Grease. It’s all about posturing. He’s really a marshmallow in a tough guy’s clothing.”

  Harper pursed her lips as she considered the statement. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it. I can’t wait to tell Jared your theory on his inner marshmallow.”

  “Please do,” Zander said, bobbing his head. “So … are you ready to end this?”

  Harper’s smile slipped into a grimace. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Then let’s do it. Just make sure you watch your hair.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “FOR A man who spent the night with a beautiful woman, you sure seem surly.”

  Mel Kelsey’s eyes were keen as they skimmed over his partner shortly before noon. He was used to Jared Monroe being happy-go-lucky and pleasant. The expression on the handsome man’s face was anything but pleasant today.

  “I’m not surly,” Jared said, refusing to move his eyes from his computer screen. “I’m merely concentrating.”

  “On what?”

  “Work.”

  “What work?” Mel asked, genuinely curious. “The only action we’ve seen in the past four days is that group of kids who accidentally bought oregano instead of pot and spray-painted the dealer’s car with a monkey as payback, and Tammy Garner, who almost got hit by a car because she was jaywalking.”

  “It was a pirate.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure she was almost hit by a car.”

  “Not that,” Jared said, his eyes flashing as he finally met his partner’s gaze. “The kids didn’t paint a monkey on the car. It was a pirate.”

  “Are you sure?” Mel wasn’t convinced. “It looked like a monkey to me. Those ears were … huge.”

  “Those were earrings.”

  “But why would they paint a pirate?”

  “Why would they paint a monkey?”

  Mel tilted his head to the side, considering. “Good point. Moving along. Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you? You’ve been one step short of singing as you kick your heels together for the past two weeks. I haven’t seen you so much as frown in that time. Why are you so crabby today?”

  “I’m not crabby,” Jared replied, shaking his head. “I’m simply … tired. I’m so, so tired.”

  “Is Harper keeping you up at night? If so, I don’t want to hear about it. I’ve known her since she was a child. She’ll always be a child to me, for the record. That’s what I think when I see you together. It’s inappropriate and gross.”

  “Thanks for the update. Harper is not the problem, though,” Jared said, rubbing the back of his short-cropped hair as he made a disgusted face. “Her roommate, on the other hand, is another story.”

  “Ah.” Mel fought the urge to laugh as he regarded the hangdog expression on Jared’s face. The younger police officer was a recent transplant to Whisper Cove, which was located along Lake St. Clair in Southeastern Michigan. Since Jared hadn’t grown up in Whisper Cove, he wasn’t familiar with the extreme lengths of Zander’s larger-than-life personality. It was something that took some getting used to. “What has my nephew done this time?”

  Mel was a man who loved his family. He considered family loyalty to be more important than almost anything else, in fact. That didn’t mean he was oblivious to Zander’s grating personality.

  “He crawled into bed with Harper this morning,” Jared replied, his eyes darkening.

  “If you’re worried about them hooking up, you should probably let it go,” Mel said mildly. “They’ve been best friends since the day they met. Zander doesn’t roll that way.”

  “I know that.” Jared made a “well, duh” face and let loose with a low growl. “I’m not an idiot. I’m not worried about them hooking up.”

  “Then what’s your problem?”

  “I was in bed with Harper.”

  “Oh.” Mel smirked. “Well, that had to be uncomfortable. He didn’t … I don’t know … try to hold your hand or anything, did he?”

  “No, he was on the other side of Harper,” Jared replied, annoyed. How could Mel not be getting this? “We were naked, though. We were up late last night and we were naked this morning. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Mel rolled his eyes so hard Jared was momentarily worried he would topple over if he wasn’t careful. “Did you have to tell me that?”

  Now it was Jared’s turn to hide his smirk. “What do you think I’m doing over there every night? Do you think we’re holding hands and watching Little House on the Prairie episodes?”

  “Oh, don’t ever watch those with Zander around,” Mel intoned. “He gets offended by the fashion. The girls wore the same dresses for four seasons and he was convinced it was some sort of prairie conspiracy.”

  Jared’s mouth dropped open. “I … what?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Mel said, waving off Jared’s incredulity. “As for this morning, well, have you considered telling Zander how you feel? Maybe if you explain about the nudity … .”

  “He knew about the nudity. The walls are paper thin in that place.”

  “Oh, this conversation is taking a really uncomfortable turn,” Mel said, his cheeks burning as he shifted his eyes away from Jared. For some reason he suddenly couldn’t focus on the man without considering the fact that he might be a sexual deviant. In his eyes Harper was still a precocious child dragging around a stuffed dog as she spun fantastical stories about imaginary friends.

  “Zander and I have talked about him entering the bedroom without knocking so many times I’ve lost count,” Jared explained. “He nods and pretends he understands. Then he promises not to do it again. That lasts exactly three days and then he does it again.”

  Mel pursed his lips, amused. He’d always gotten a kick out of his nephew. The boy had stage presence. He noticed it at a young age. Zander couldn’t help himself from being a pain. He very rarely set out to agitate someone – although it wasn’t out of the question if Zander got a bee up his butt.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Mel said after a beat. “What does Harper say about this?”

  “Harper says she’ll talk to him and apologizes for his actions. Then she distracts me with kisses … and by rubbing her nose against my cheek … and by making this little sighing noise that drives me crazy because it means that she’s happy.”

  Mel barked out a laugh. “Oh, that’s cute,” he said. “You don’t want to pick a fight because you’re worried about making Harper unhappy. That’s so sweet it makes me want to puke.”

  “It’s not that.”

  Mel quirked a dubious eyebrow.

  “Okay, it’s not just that,” Jared clarified. “I want her happy. I love it when she smiles. Zander doesn’t bother me most of the time. The only time I want to kill him is right before we go to sleep and right after we wake up. If he could just learn some boundaries … .”

  “You have to remember that Zander and Harper never had boundaries before you came along,” Mel pointed out. “They never needed them.”

  “Well, I’m sick of feeling like the odd man out,” Jared said. “Zander and Harper can’t live together forever. This … threesome … cannot
keep going on exactly as it’s going on. Something has got to give.”

  Mel studied Jared’s face for a moment, his expression unreadable. “If I were you, I would calm myself before saying anything of the sort to Harper. You’re … um … not considering giving her an ultimatum or anything, are you?”

  “That’s not really my style.”

  “That’s good. Women don’t like that.”

  Jared knit his eyebrows together. “Why? Do you think she would pick Zander over me?”

  “I think … .” Mel didn’t get a chance to finish his statement because the sound of the front door opening jerked his attention in that direction. Jared followed suit, widening his eyes when he caught sight of an elderly woman who was so tiny she looked as if she could fit inside the huge purse she carried.

  “Hello, Annette,” Mel said, adopting an amiable tone. “How are you today?”

  “I’ve been better.” Annette practically grunted out her response. She looked as angry as Jared this afternoon. Mel could only hope it was for a different reason.

  “What can we do for you?” Jared asked, pasting on a friendly smile. He’d never met the woman before so he was genuinely curious about the new face.

  “Well … I’m pretty sure someone might be dead. There’s a decent shot my late husband is the one who did the killing, too. It’s basically been a real pisser of a day.”

  And just like that Jared’s day tilted.

  2

  Two

  “Why don’t you take a seat, Annette.”

  Mel was flabbergasted by the woman’s announcement. He’d known her for as long as he could remember. She was considered “old” when he was a teenager. People called her “Old Lady Fleming” because she enjoyed calling the police and reporting rabble-rousers even back then. She was what his mother affectionately referred to as “a pill.” Mel could think of a few other words to describe her, but now didn’t seem like the time to dust them off.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Jared asked, his blue eyes filled with kindness. “We have coffee … or water … or tea. Which would you prefer?”