Ghostly Images (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 5) Page 2

  “I would prefer a fifth of bourbon. Do you have that?” Annette’s face was full of annoyance as she planted herself in the chair across from Jared’s desk.

  “We don’t have bourbon, Annette,” Mel supplied. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why not? I would think with all the crap you deal with that bourbon would be a necessity.”

  “It’s generally frowned upon to get loaded during work hours,” Mel explained. “We tend to leave the bourbon drinking for when our shifts end.”

  “That seems like a stupid way to solve a crime, but whatever.” Annette made a face that Jared would’ve found hilarious under different circumstances. However, he forced himself to remain somber given the reason for her visit.

  “So … that’s no on the coffee, water, or tea?” Jared asked.

  Annette heaved out a heavy sigh. “I guess I’ll have some tea. I’ll probably be up all night because of the caffeine, but it’s not exactly as if beggars can be choosers. I need something to wet my whistle and bourbon is apparently off the table.”

  Jared pressed his lips together as he shuffled across the room and filled a mug with tap water before popping it in the microwave. He rummaged through the cupboard until he found the box of tea bags and plopped one in the steaming water before returning to Annette’s side.

  “It’s Earl Grey,” Jared said. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “Nothing is okay without bourbon. I thought we already covered that.”

  Jared shifted his eyes to Mel, flummoxed. “I’m … sorry.”

  Mel lifted his hand to placate Jared and shifted his attention to Annette. For her part, the woman – who couldn’t have topped five feet even in stacked heels – sat stiff on the edge of her seat, the large purse (which could double as a suitcase for the right person) perched on her lap. “So, Annette, do you want to tell me what’s going on here? You mentioned something about a murder.”

  “Oh, right,” Annette said, slipping her hand inside the purse. “So, as you’re both aware, my husband Arthur passed away recently.”

  “Yes, I was sorry to hear that,” Mel said. “I went to his funeral. It was a lovely service.”

  Jared nodded his agreement even though he had no idea who Arthur was. He was fairly certain Harper and Zander attended the funeral, though, so he wasn’t completely in the dark regarding the situation.

  “It was a funeral,” Annette scoffed. “There’s nothing lovely about a funeral.”

  “Well, I just meant that people said so many great things about Arthur,” Mel offered. “It was nice to hear all of the old stories and everything. He was beloved.”

  “Yes, I love a funeral where people lie, too,” Annette said, disdain practically dripping from her tongue. “We all know Arthur was a big putz. If there was a poop stain in the underwear of life, it would’ve been Arthur. He was grouchy and mean … and a little racist.”

  Jared bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. This was easily the most surreal conversation he’d participated in the last few weeks.

  “Well, I guess we all remember him in our own special way,” Mel gritted out, seemingly unsure of himself. “I’m not sure what his death has to do with a murder, though. If you’re thinking someone went after him, I can assure you that the medical examiner found concrete proof that Arthur died of a heart attack in his sleep.”

  “I don’t think Arthur was murdered,” Annette said, wrinkling her nose. She had so many wrinkles on her face it was hard to differentiate where one started and another ended. “I’m surprised the medical examiner actually managed to find a heart in the first place. That’s not why I’m here.”

  “So … why are you here?” Jared prodded. The more he talked to the woman, the more he couldn’t help but like her. She was mean and short-tempered, but she had a certain pizzazz. He could imagine Zander turning out just like her in sixty years.

  “I’m here for these.” Annette removed a stack of old Polaroid photos, the edges yellowed from age, and handed them to Jared.

  Jared wordlessly took them, frowning when his gaze landed on the first one and he recognized a woman’s foot sticking out of a garbage bag.

  “What is it?” Mel asked, easily reading the stiff set of his partner’s shoulders. “Is it something kinky?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jared replied, riffling through the photos. Each subsequent photo made his stomach queasier. When he was done he handed them to Mel. “Do you know who that woman is, Mrs. Fleming?”

  “I have no idea,” Annette answered. “I couldn’t rightly see a face. I’m getting old, though, so I was hoping you could see one.”

  “I saw a few profile pictures, but the face wasn’t clear,” Jared said, licking his lips. “She’s clearly dead, though.”

  “I think the blood would be a dead giveaway on that one,” Mel agreed, tilting a photo so he could stare at it. “These photos look pretty old, Annette. Where did you find them?”

  “After Arthur died I decided to go up to the attic to sort through some things,” Annette explained. “I thought it would give me something to do. Now that Arthur isn’t around demanding I wait on him, I find I have a lot of time to burn.”

  “You shouldn’t go up to that attic on your own,” Mel chided. “You have an older home. Those steps are narrow.”

  “I’m old. I’m not dead.” Annette’s eyes flashed. “Last time I checked, I’m allowed to do whatever I want. I am an adult, after all.”

  “Forgive me for insulting you,” Mel said, shaking his head as he returned his attention to the photos. “Where were they in the attic?”

  “There’s an old armoire up there,” Annette replied. “I didn’t even remember it being up there, quite frankly. It was from my former mother-in-law’s house. You remember Gertrude, right? She was meaner than Arthur. She was uglier, too. He was no prize, but she was kind of like the pimple on the butt of the prize.”

  Jared made a big show of covering his mouth with his hand as he scratched his lip. Smiling now would be completely inappropriate. “Do you think the photos are left over from your mother-in-law’s day?”

  Annette shrugged. “I have no idea. I just saw a dead woman and figured I should make my problem your problem. I don’t know who she is. I don’t know how she died. I certainly don’t know when she died.”

  “We can’t be sure that this wasn’t an accidental death,” Mel cautioned. “There’s blood but no murder weapon or anything. We’ll have to do some investigating to figure out what’s going on.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s why I brought the photos to you,” Annette shot back, blithe. “I’m not an investigator. Despite your lack of bourbon, you supposedly are.”

  “Well, we’ll definitely look into it,” Mel said, exchanging a weighted look with Jared. “We might need to get into your attic. You know, just to be thorough.”

  “I figured as much,” Annette said, struggling to her feet. “I’ll get some garbage bags so you guys can sort through stuff while you’re up there. It will save me some time.”

  Jared opened his mouth to argue with the woman. He wanted to tell her that cleaning her attic wasn’t his job. Mel sent him a furtive headshake in warning, though, and Jared wisely snapped his mouth shut.

  “We’ll be in touch,” Mel said. “Right now, I’m not sure what to think about any of this. We’ll get to the bottom of it, though. I promise you that.”

  JARED was flustered by the time he reached the beachside restaurant. He was running late – and texted Harper to let her know that – but he prided himself on punctuality. He hoped she hadn’t been alone at the table for too long. That didn’t look to be the case when he found her sitting on the deck, though. In fact, she wasn’t alone at all. She had a guest.

  “I see you finally made it.” Jason Thurman, Harper’s high school boyfriend and the owner of the restaurant, slowly got to his feet and relinquished the chair he sat in moments before. “I kept your girlfriend company so she wouldn’t feel abandoned and alone. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Jared didn’t bother to hide his scowl as he dropped a quick kiss on Harper’s mouth and sat across from her. In truth, he liked Jason despite the fact that the man hit on Harper several times upon his return to Whisper Cove a few weeks before. He knew Jason was trying to get under his skin – and doing an admirable job – but he refused to let the restaurant owner know it.

  “I don’t mind at all,” Jared said, adopting a friendly smile. “I was worried about Harper sitting here alone. At least now I know she wasn’t lonely.”

  “She definitely wasn’t lonely,” Jason acknowledged, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

  “Just bored,” Jared supplied, pretending he didn’t notice the way Harper rolled her eyes. She was used to the two men posturing. She’d grown to ignore it … or at least pretend to ignore it. Jared was fairly certain she and Zander had a good laugh about every interaction once he was out of the room. “How was your day, Heart?”

  Harper smiled at the nickname. Jared wanted something to call her that Zander didn’t utilize. He came up with the moniker himself, and even though it made her feel girly and silly, Harper adored it. “Eventful.”

  Jared arched an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know what that means?” He was well aware of Harper’s ability – being able to see and talk to ghosts was initially a strain on their relationship, but his disbelief was quickly squashed – but that didn’t mean he was happy about her walking into continual danger. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “I am perfectly fine,” Harper replied, grinning. “I didn’t even get dirty. Doesn’t my hair look fabulous, by the way?”

  Jared didn’t have the heart to tell her that he saw nothing different about her hair. “It looks great. I love what you did with it.”

  Harper na
rrowed her eyes, suspicious. “What’s different about it?”

  Crap. Jared had no idea how to answer. “It’s … shinier.”

  Harper made a disgusted face. “It’s wavy. Zander did it for me after you left this morning.”

  “Oh, well, at least he did something constructive today,” Jared muttered, reaching for the menu. “It looks nice. I wasn’t lying about that. It always looks nice.”

  “I asked him to do it because I knew you were angry about what he did this morning.”

  Jason’s eyes lit up. “Oh, what did Zander do now? Is he crowding your little party of two?”

  Jared scorched him with a murderous look. “Don’t you have something to do?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, great,” Jared grumbled. “For the record, no one is crowding our twosome. Our twosome is just fine.”

  “Is it?” Harper couldn’t help but be a little worried. “You kind of stormed out this morning. I’m sorry about what happened, by the way. I’ve told Zander that climbing into bed with us isn’t allowed. He just forgets sometimes.”

  Jason barked out a laugh, delighted. “He got into bed with you? How … cozy.”

  “We were naked,” Harper explained. “I don’t even notice it, but Jared gets self-conscious.”

  Despite his determination to aggravate Jared, Jason couldn’t help but frown. “I’m sorry but … you were naked?”

  “Don’t even bother imagining it,” Jared warned. “The reality is better than the fantasy and you’ll never know what the reality looks like.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet,” Harper said, patting his hand. “It’s a little territorial, but it’s sweet.”

  “I don’t blame Jared for being uncomfortable,” Jason offered. “I’m not sure how I would feel about it if that happened to me. Zander doesn’t like lift the covers and look at stuff, does he?”

  Harper was horrified. “Of course not!”

  “He just climbs in and tells us about his date the previous evening … or whatever crap he watched on Netflix while we were sleeping … or whatever epiphany he had during a dream. It’s mostly harmless. Er, well, except for the nudity.”

  The corners of Jason’s mouth tipped up. “You’re a better man than me. I wouldn’t be able to put up with that.”

  “Well, I’m not sure how much more of it I’m going to be able to take.”

  “That’s good,” Jason teased. “That will give me a little time to wrap my head around the situation so I can swoop in and romance the crap out of Harper once you’ve hit your limit.”

  “And that’s not going to happen,” Jared said. Harper didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he said the words. “I’m simply going to put a new lock on the door and make sure he can’t get in.”

  “Oh, well, that sounds like a very pragmatic idea,” Jason deadpanned. “I’m sure a flimsy bedroom door lock will keep Zander out. That sounds highly probable … or not.”

  “Ignore him,” Harper said, grabbing Jared’s hand as he glowered at Jason. “He’s just trying to get to you.”

  “He’s doing a good job of it.”

  “I’m … sorry.”

  The expression on Harper’s face was so heartfelt it caused Jared’s stomach to clench. “It’s not your fault, Heart. We’ll figure it out. If I have to beat up Zander or hide all of that expensive night cream he uses, we’ll come up with a solution.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay.” Harper blew out a relieved sigh and then decided to change the subject. “So why were you late?”

  “Um, do you know Annette Fleming?”

  “Old Lady Fleming?” Jason looked sick to his stomach. “Is she still alive? Does she still chase kids with a broom on Halloween? Does she still try to hit small dogs when she’s driving down the road?”

  “I have no idea about any of that,” Jared replied. “She came in today with photos of a dead body, though. She says she found them in her attic. She thinks either her husband killed someone or her in-laws did away with a woman and then stuck her with the photos. The in-laws owned the armoire where the photos were found.”

  “I don’t really remember her in-laws,” Harper mused. “Arthur was actually meaner than Annette, though.”

  “Yes, I find that difficult to believe.” Jared dug in his back pocket and returned with a Polaroid snapshot. “I probably shouldn’t show you this, but I’m hoping you recognize something. We don’t even know who the victim is … or when she died.”

  Harper sucked in a breath when she took the photo, her heart rolling. “Oh, my.”

  “Nice lunch gift,” Jason intoned.

  Jared ignored him. “I don’t suppose you recognize her, do you?”

  “I don’t know,” Harper replied, rubbing her cheek. “I don’t recognize her, but I feel as if I should. Does that make sense?”

  “Not particularly, but I’m hoping you’ll go to Annette’s house to look around with me after lunch,” Jared replied. “If there’s someone or something hanging around the house … .” He didn’t say it out loud, but he was mildly hopeful Harper would stumble across a ghost to answer their questions.

  “I understand,” Harper said, mustering a small smile. “If I do this, though, do you promise to forgive me for this morning?”

  “For the naked incident or the blueberry oatmeal snafu?”

  “Both.”

  Jared held his hands palms up and smiled. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  “Then I’ll go with you.”

  The duo lapsed into comfortable silence as they perused their menus. Jason was the first to break it.

  “Okay,” he said, intrigued. “I have to know what the blueberry oatmeal snafu is?”

  “No, you don’t,” Jared and Harper answered in unison.

  “Trust me, dude,” Jared added. “You’re better off not knowing.”

  Jason wasn’t convinced, but he let it go. “I’ll grab some soup for you guys as a starter. I’ll be back to take your order in a few minutes.”

  3

  Three

  “What do you think we’ll find?”

  Harper was antsy as she sat in the passenger seat of Jared’s department cruiser, her hands busily bouncing around as she stared out the window. She didn’t know why, but she was nervous. The photographs were disturbing on their own merit, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to shift further … and in a truly terrible way.

  “I don’t know,” Jared answered, his eyes thoughtful as they landed on her. “You seem … off.”

  “I’m fine.” Harper’s voice was unnaturally high and she internally cursed herself for not taking a moment before uttering the lie. Sure, it was a little white one and not a flaming whopper. It was still an obvious falsehood, though.

  “Yes, you sound fine,” Jared said, his lips quirking. “You’re fine and dandy, right?”

  Harper sucked in a steadying breath. “Okay, if I tell you something, do you promise not to laugh?”

  “No.”

  Harper frowned. “No?”

  “You say some genuinely funny things, Heart,” Jared pointed out. “I think you could be a sitcom actress if this whole ghost thing fizzles out. Of course, you’re far too hot to be on a sitcom.” His eyes lit with mirth as she made an exaggerated face. “I promise not to laugh. Tell me.”

  “Now I don’t know if I should tell you,” Harper grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m feeling vulnerable.”

  Jared sobered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I promise I won’t laugh. This is a serious situation … even though we have no idea what we’re even dealing with yet. This could be a murder or it could be something else entirely.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, I’m not falling for that,” Jared chided. “Tell me what you’re thinking. When we’re done with that, we’ll talk about my weird theories.”

  “Okay.” Harper ran her tongue over her teeth and squared her shoulders. “I have a feeling that we’re about to see something terrible.”

  “Like what?”

  “I have no idea. It’s just this feeling of dread sitting in the pit of my stomach. It’s been growing for the past hour. It’s worse than the time Zander told me that Children of the Corn was miscategorized at the library and it really belonged in the non-fiction section.”