Ghostly Asylum Read online

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Mail List

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Lily Harper Hart

  Ghostly Asylum

  A Harper Harlow Mystery Book Seven

  Lily Harper Hart

  HarperHart Publications

  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

  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

  21. Twenty-One

  Mail List

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Lily Harper Hart

  1

  One

  “Don’t move!”

  Harper Harlow swiped at her grimy face, wiping away the dirt that had accumulated when her partner Zander Pritchett decided – in his infinite wisdom, of course – to help her capture the Jenkins ghost by hopping in her path and declaring that he was her protector.

  They’d been best friends since kindergarten so Harper was used to Zander’s grand gestures, but she couldn’t help but internally lament the fact that he always seemed to pick the exact wrong time to unleash his inner guardian.

  “Does it look like I’m going to move?” Zander pinned Harper with a disgusted look as he ran his hand through his filthy hair, making a face when he detected something he was fairly certain came with creepy-crawlies attached to it. They stood in the middle of an abandoned barn on the outskirts of Whisper Cove, a real estate developer hiring their company Ghost Hunters, Inc. – or GHI to those lucky enough to be a part of the inner circle – to clean out the ramshackle building so they could tear it down and erect new condominiums. It seemed whenever the workers approached with their equipment they were attacked by an unseen force that hurled rotten fruit from the nearby apple tree at them. It happened with enough regularity that they got antsy and hired professionals.

  That’s what Harper and Zander were. Professionals. They were professional ghost hunters, which earned snickers from some people and respect from others. They were used to both so they didn’t pay much heed to what others thought about them.

  “I didn’t think you were going to move last time and yet you did,” Harper said dryly, pulling a slice of rotten apple from the ends of her shoulder-length blond hair. “Ugh. I don’t even like apples.”

  “Who doesn’t like apples?”

  “Um … me.”

  “I don’t think that’s true.” Zander always chose the oddest time to pick a fight and this was no exception. He couldn’t see and talk to ghosts like his best friend, but the flying fruit unnerved him all the same. When he was unnerved, he liked to talk. “You like apple pie.”

  He had a point, Harper internally conceded. She did like apple pie. “Perhaps I only like cooked apples.”

  “That’s a little sad.” Zander rolled his neck as he peered through the hole in the barn wall. He’d lost track of the happy rotten apple thrower a few minutes before. “Where do you think he went?”

  “Not far.” Harper leaned forward a bit so she could scan the gloom. The barn was essentially falling down around them. One stiff breeze is all it would take to topple the structure. While the real estate developer might be happy with that outcome, Harper knew that didn’t mean the ghost would flee the area. Instead, the displaced spirit was far more likely to up the apple-throwing angst – perhaps opt for bricks if they were handy – if that happened. “I think he’s been here for a very long time.”

  Harper hadn’t been able to get a clear view of the ghost as of yet – she didn’t need to know what he looked like to help him pass to the other side – but she was fairly certain he was big … and ornery.

  “What was your first clue?” Zander deadpanned. “Was it the fact that the barn has been sitting out here alone, rotting, since before we were born? Or is it the fact that I’m pretty sure I heard him whisper a gay slur when he buzzed past me ten minutes ago?”

  Harper stilled, surprised. “He whispered at you?”

  Zander jutted out his lower lip and nodded. “He’s mean.”

  Harper didn’t doubt that the ghost was mean. He was throwing fruit, for crying out loud, of course he was mean. She’d never known Zander to be able to hear a ghost when she couldn’t, though. In fact, there were times Zander swore up and down he didn’t hear Harper when she talked … especially when she said something he didn’t want to hear. She couldn’t help being a bit suspicious.

  “Did he really say something to you or are you just projecting because that girl at the coffee place this morning commented that gay guys always have the best shoes?”

  Zander pursed his lips. “You can’t tell just by looking at me that I’m gay,” he exploded.

  “I agree.” Harper’s lips curved. “I think you’re the manliest man on the planet. The fact that you have great shoes is simply an added bonus. You shouldn’t take it personally.”

  “Whatever.” Zander made an exaggerated face. “She just assumed I was gay because of my new Sperry Topsiders and that’s just … very judgmental. Peach is in this season.”

  “Of course it is.” Harper absently patted Zander’s arm. She was used to his dramatic meltdowns. Heck, she even enjoyed them on occasion. Now wasn’t the proper time for him to devolve into one of his patented freakouts, though. “She was clearly evil, Zander. Those little unicorn clips in her hair should’ve tipped you off.”

  “You know how I hate unicorns,” Zander hissed. “People think they’re magical and fight on the side of good, but I know better.”

  “Yes, you know better than everyone.” Harper narrowed her eyes when she caught a hint of movement in the barn. “I think he’s over there.”

  Zander followed her gaze, knitting his eyebrows as he stared. “I’m still going to place a wager that the ghost is a judgmental jerkwad.”

  “Because he comes from a less enlightened time?”

  “Because he throws fruit,” Zander snapped. “Only a douche would throw fruit.”

  Harper couldn’t argue with that. “Definitely.” She bobbed her head as she came up with a plan. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen, I’m going to venture out into the middle of the barn and draw him to me. When I give you the signal, you need to throw out the dreamcatcher as close to my feet as possible. Do you understand?”

  Zander’s face was a mask of indignation as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Do I understand? We’ve been doing this for years. Of course I understand. I’ll throw out the dreamcatcher, you’ll lead him across it and he’ll be magically transported to the other side.”

  That was
n’t exactly how it worked, but Harper wasn’t in the mood to argue with him, especially since he seemed primed to model for the foldout in the newest edition of Petulant Quarterly.

  “Aim for the spot right in front of my shoes,” Harper pressed. “It’s important.”

  “I’ve got it!”

  “Whatever.” Harper rolled her eyes as she stood. “Whatever you do, don’t move.”

  “Oh, geez.” Zander slapped his hand to his forehead. “I hate it when you talk down to me. Next thing I know you’ll be making fun of my shoes.”

  “Oh, those shoes are too fabulous,” Harper teased, readying herself. “I would never make fun of those shoes. Ready? Here I go.”

  “WHAT PART OF ‘don’t move’ did you have trouble grasping?”

  Harper was in a foul mood by the time she swung into the small office space they rented to serve as an office for GHI two hours later. She was even dirtier than before and she was almost certain that the apple chunks in her hair were starting to ferment.

  “I didn’t move,” Zander barked. He was equally as filthy and he wanted to head home rather than to the office, but she insisted they had to stop in long enough to update their co-workers and make sure they sent out the bill before calling it a day.

  “You did, too.”

  “I did not.”

  “You did, too.”

  “I did not.”

  “Guys!” Molly Parker, GHI’s lone paid intern, clapped her hands to get Zander and Harper’s attention as they trudged through the office. She sat at the front desk, a bright-eyed man and fresh-faced woman sitting across from her, and she looked unbelievably frustrated.

  “What?” Harper asked, refusing to apologize for her unprofessional entrance. If the new people were clients and they didn’t like her attitude … well … they could just bite the smelly apples and find someone else to hunt ghosts for them. And good luck with that because no one else will want the job.

  “This is Michael Knox and Lucy Bush,” Molly explained, her short green hair gleaming under the pink gel lights Zander insisted they install in the main office because he refused to risk falling into bad lighting when he was trying to impress potential clients. “They work for that ghost show on television.”

  Harper stilled, surprised. Whatever she was expecting, that wasn’t it. “Ghost show?”

  The man who Molly introduced as Michael Knox hopped to his feet and extended his hand. “That’s right. I’m the producer of Phantoms on IGH.”

  While most people would have no idea what IGH was, Harper couldn’t help but perk up at mention of the network. “Independent Ghost Hunters Network,” she mused, working overtime to adjust her attitude. These were fellow colleagues, after all. “We watch that channel all of the time in our house.”

  “Oh, you’re a couple?” Michael’s expression was friendly as he returned to his seat. “That must be why you were arguing. Most people find they can’t work and play together without the occasional meltdown.”

  “We live together,” Harper corrected. “We don’t play together.”

  “We played ‘the last one who puts something in the trash has to take it to the curb’ just last night,” Zander countered, his annoyance evident. “How dare you say we don’t play?”

  Harper reclaimed a bit of her anger and flicked her eyes to her best friend. “I’m going to play with the idea of putting my foot in your behind if you’re not careful.”

  “Oh, let it go.” Zander rolled his eyes to the heavens. “It’s not my fault you tripped over your own feet and got pelted with another round of rotten apples. How can you possibly blame me for that?”

  “It’s actually easier than you think,” Harper replied, not missing a beat. “I told you not to move and you moved.”

  Zander planted his hands on his narrow hips. “I did not move!”

  “You did, too. Twice.”

  “Guys!” Molly was at the end of her rope as she stood. Her short-cropped hair was always changing color so Harper and Zander were used to it, but the green washed out her features in such a manner that Harper thought the young girl looked sick. Harper couldn’t wait for the inevitable change when it came.

  “I’m sorry.” Harper held up her hand in a placating manner as she forced a smile. “You caught us at a bad time. We just completed a rather … difficult … job and we’re both tired.”

  “Not so tired that we can’t talk about being on television,” Zander said, shifting gears almost immediately. It took him longer than it should have, but he’d finally put together why the producer of Phantoms was in their office. “That’s why you’re here, right? You want to put us on television, don’t you?”

  “I do indeed.” Michael beamed at Zander. “We want to film an episode locally and we were asking around about guides and your name came up with some regularity.”

  Harper didn’t consider herself cynical by nature – at least not all of the time, that is – but she couldn’t help being suspicious. “You asked around and our names came up with regularity? May I inquire who you asked?”

  “Does that matter?” Zander widened his eyes, something unsaid passing between him and Harper as he attempted to retain control of the conversation.

  Harper refused to back down. “It matters to me.”

  “That’s because you’re a whiner,” Zander muttered. “You whine about people moving – even though they clearly didn’t move – and you whine about one of the best television shows ever recognizing our talents and offering to make us stars.”

  Harper maintained a neutral expression, but just barely. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what they offered.”

  “That’s what I heard.”

  “That’s not even remotely what he said.”

  Michael cleared his throat to break up the potential fight. Harper was convinced he was about to explain that he’d made a huge mistake and excuse himself, but instead he did the exact opposite. “You guys are going to be perfect for what we’re planning. You might very well be stars by the end of the episode. Don’t you think so, too, Lucy?”

  The woman, a bright-eyed beauty with long auburn hair and a pristine smile, immediately started bobbing her head. “They’re fantastic. They have great natural chemistry. Our viewers are going to love them.”

  “More importantly, they’re going to laugh with them,” Michael said, his eyes never leaving Harper’s face. “You’re perfect.”

  Zander crossed his arms over his chest, smug. “See. We’re perfect.”

  Harper liked a compliment as much as the next person, but she wasn’t an easy mark. “And what are we perfect for?” she asked, refusing to let the conversation get away from her before she had a chance to see the entire picture.

  “We have a special trip planned to the Ludington Asylum,” Michael explained. “We’ve been scouting the location and doing a great deal of research and it’s supposed to be absolutely teeming with ghosts. Have you heard of it?”

  Harper’s heart rolled at mention of the asylum.

  “Of course we’ve heard of it,” Zander enthused. “It’s supposed to be the most haunted place in Michigan. It’s only about an hour and a half away. We wanted to visit as teenagers, but we couldn’t find anyone to drive us out there.”

  “My understanding is that the asylum is located on a small island.” Lucy furrowed her brow as she flipped through a file. “How could you drive out there if it’s on an island?”

  “I should’ve said motor,” Zander corrected. “My uncle has a boat and we tried to pay him to take us, but he refused. He doesn’t believe in ghosts and yet even he heard the stories about the asylum and he didn’t think we would be safe.”

  “Yes, from everything we’ve heard the spectral energy at that location is supposed to be phenomenal,” Michael enthused. “Since no one visits the property, it’s an untapped resource and we want to be the ones to tap it.”

  “You’re an untapped resource, too,” Lucy added. “You guys have built up quite the reputation in ghost-hun
ting circles and we want to be the ones to introduce you to the world. We want to be the ones to tap you first.”

  “Did you hear that, Harp? They want to tap us.” Zander was beyond giddy. He was so far gone he didn’t recognize the double entendre. If he’d been in full charge of his faculties he would’ve made a hundred jokes before letting it slide.

  “I heard.” Harper scratched her chin as she internally debated the scenario. “I’m going to need some more information before we agree to anything.”

  “Of course.” Michael’s smile was so large it almost swallowed his entire face. “I’m sure money is an issue.”

  “Money is an issue,” Harper agreed. “I also want to know what kind of security you’ll have in place and any contingency plans in case we need to flee from the island.”

  Michael’s eyebrows hopped up his forehead. “Flee?”

  “The island is supposed to be treacherous,” Harper supplied. “We’ve heard stories for years about it. Some people have disappeared while trying to visit and never been found. Scoff if you want, but that’s happened at least two times.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Zander hedged, returning to reality. “We have heard a lot of funky stories about that island.”

  “We’ll have a security team in place,” Michael supplied. “You’ll be perfectly safe. We brought a contract for you to sign if you’re interested. It’s pretty basic but … I’m sure you’ll want to look it over.”

  “We definitely will,” Harper agreed.

  “And then we’ll sign on the dotted line.” Zander was back to being giddy. “We’re going to be on television, Harp. Can you believe it?”

  Harper couldn’t quite believe it. She also refused to agree until she ran the idea past one other person. “I want to talk to Jared, too.”