Ghostly Worries (A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 4) (16 page)

“
W
hat seems
to be the problem?” The dental hygienist approached Zander with a bright smile. “I heard you might need some emergency dental work.”

“You heard wrong.” Zander stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest as he shot Harper a dark look. “My teeth are perfectly fine. I brush three times a day and floss twice. I could be on a Colgate commercial, for crying out loud.”

“Wow. It sounds as if you’re quite the slave to your dental care. My name is Cecilia, by the way. Your friend here told me that you might be a little nervous and I want you to know that everything is going to be fine so you can relax.” Cecelia patted Zander’s arm. “Now … unclench a bit and let me see what’s going on in your mouth.”

“Nothing is going on in my mouth,” Zander shot back. “My mouth is perfect. I have at least five men who will sign affidavits testifying to just that fact.”

Harper made a face and gripped Zander’s arm. To the outside observer she looked as if she was trying to help her friend. To Zander if felt as if she was trying to rip his arm off. “I told you that this was necessary or your tooth might get infected and fall out. Just … let the nice lady look in your mouth. The longer you fight this, the longer it’s going to take to complete.”

“I’m good.” Zander briefly pressed his eyes shut to block out the pain of Harper’s fingernails digging into his arm. “I am … better than good, in fact. I am amazing.”

“Maybe he’s not in pain,” Cecelia suggested. “Maybe you were wrong.”

“I’m not wrong,” Harper said, putting her best “I’m a worried best friend and you have to trust me” smile in place. “He’s just unbelievably nervous. I’ve never understood it, but he has performance anxiety. He always has.”

“You traitor,” Zander hissed.

Harper ignored him. “I have no idea what happens. He just folds under pressure.”

“She’s lying,” Zander snapped. “She’s making that up. I am a master under pressure.”

Cecelia giggled at Zander’s outrage. “It’s okay,” she said, giving his wrist a friendly squeeze. “A lot of people are afraid of the dentist. I think they even have a name for it.”

“Yes, its name is Zander,” Harper said, widening her eyes to comical proportions. “One day I hope he’ll get over his performance anxiety. Maybe then he’ll be able to hold a man for more than one night. They all leave him for some reason. It’s just sad really.”

Zander scorched Harper with a murderous look as Cecelia moved closer to the front bubble and exchanged a few words with the receptionist. “I do not have performance issues,” he seethed.

“Prove it,” Harper snapped, her voice low. “You were born to play this part. I need you to do it. For me.”

“You suck.”

“Zander … .”

“I’m going to do it, but if anyone comes near my mouth with a drill … or anything other than love … I’m going to kill you,” Zander warned.

It was a serious situation and Harper didn’t want to smile, but she couldn’t help herself. “You know that kind of came out dirty, right?”

“I heard it as soon as I said it.”

J
ARED
watched
Jason through the front window of the restaurant, taking advantage of the fact that the man didn’t know he had company. He didn’t look like a murderer. Of course, most murderers didn’t appear to stand out in a crowd – except for those occasional mug shots where everyone wonders how they didn’t know the guy dressing up as a clown was evil.

Jared knocked on the glass window once and then opened the door, causing Jason to lift his head. He looked surprised to see his guest.

“Are you here to arrest me?”

It was a weird opening line and Jared wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Jason said, flipping his ledger book closed and leaning back in his chair. “Do you want to have a seat or drag me down to the station?”

“We can talk here,” Jared said, closing the door behind him and stepping into the empty restaurant. “Are we alone?”

“I’m not expecting anyone to show up for at least an hour,” Jason replied. “The kitchen help comes in early so they can do prep work but they’ll enter through the back. We shouldn’t even see them.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” Jared said, moving to the table and taking the chair across from Jason.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you have something you want to ask me?” Jason was clearly nervous, although Jared couldn’t decide if it was because a cop or Harper’s boyfriend was about to question him.

“I have several things to discuss with you,” Jared said, running his thumb over the lacquered tabletop.

“You might as well spit it out,” Jason quipped lamely. “Neither one of us is getting any younger.”

“Okay … why didn’t you tell anyone you were married?”

Jason’s face drained of color as Jared leveled an expectant look on him. “I … how … who … ?”

“Perhaps you should start at the beginning,” Jared suggested.

“I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

M
EL WAS
relieved
when a woman picked up the line in the Chicago brokerage office.

“Hello?”

“Is this Amy Thurman?”

The question was greeted with a brief bout of silence. “This is Amy Williams. I don’t go by the last name Thurman any longer. How can I help you?”

“My name is Mel Kelsey and I’m with … .”

Amy cut him off smoothly before he had a chance to finish his opening gambit. “I’m not taking on any new clients right now. I’m strictly working on firm cases. Are you a referral?”

“Not even close,” Mel replied. “I’m a detective with the Whisper Cove Police Department in Southeastern Michigan.”

More silence.

“Ma’am? Are you still there?”

“I’m here,” Amy said finally, heaving out a loud sigh. “Did something happen to my husband? It would be just like him to leave me as his ‘in case of emergency’ contact. I can direct you toward his mother if that’s more convenient or … he’s not dead, is he?”

Mel had no idea where to begin but reassurance seemed as good of a place as any. “Jason Thurman is not dead.”

“I guess that’s good.”

“He is, however, a suspect in a homicide and we have a few questions to ask you,” Mel added. “Is now a convenient time?”

Mel wasn’t sure what he expected but the raucous laughter on the other end of the call certainly wasn’t it. “You have got to be kidding me. Is this a prank?”

“No, ma’am.”

“It has to be,” Amy said. “There can be no other explanation for such a ludicrous question.”

“Well, I guess I should make your day and ask a few other ridiculous questions,” Mel said. “I need some information about your marriage and husband, including the state of the union and why you split up.”

“How much time do you have?”

“All day if it’s necessary.”

“Oh, well, good,” Amy intoned. “This might be cheaper than therapy. Get comfortable.”

“
I
CAN’T
get
in there if you don’t open your mouth,” Cecelia prodded, her rubber-gloved hands at the ready with a stainless steel mirror and pick poised for action should Zander ever decide he wanted to be an agreeable patient. “Open up.”

“Yeah, open up, Zander,” Harper ordered, pinching his flank for good measure as he reclined in the dentist’s chair and pressed his lips together. The good thing about him being a stubborn mule was that he was determined no one was going to touch his teeth, which meant he refused to open his mouth and therefore couldn’t talk. The bad thing was that until he relaxed, Harper felt strange questioning the hygienist. “If you don’t open up I’m going to be forced to pull the tooth at home.”

Zander finally broke. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Gotcha!” Cecelia triumphantly cried out as she slipped her finger into Zander’s mouth and pried open his lips so she could take a look. “Now, just relax. I promise this won’t be torture unless you make me torture you.”

Zander’s eyes widened as the horrified double meaning of the words washed over him.

“I was just joking,” Cecelia said. “Good grief. Stop being such a baby. I’ve seen terrified five-year-olds handle this with a lot more grace than you.”

“Fine,” Zander grumbled, slurring around the woman’s finger. “Don’t hurt me, though.”

“I have no intention of hurting you,” Cecelia said. “In fact, I’m hoping this is a minor thing. We’re really busy today – you’re our second walk-in – and we’re down a worker.”

Harper had her opening and she knew now might be the best time for her to take advantage of it. “I heard about that,” she said. “The woman they found on the beach was a hygienist here, right? I didn’t put that together until just now.”

Zander shot Harper his patented “you’re overplaying your hand” look as he tried to relax in the chair.

“I didn’t realize that the victim’s information had been made public yet,” Cecelia said, her brow furrowed as she focused on Zander’s teeth. “How did you find out about her?”

“Zander’s uncle is a police detective with the department,” Harper said. It wasn’t a lie, but she figured leaving her relationship with Jared out of the equation was the best course of action – for the time being, at least. “He told us the other night. He said it was tragic because she was so young.”

“I don’t know if someone being young makes a death more tragic or not,” Cecelia countered. “I mean it’s sad, don’t get me wrong, but is an older person dying any less tragic than a younger person?”

Harper shrugged. “I never really thought about it,” she said. “That’s a good point, though.”

“It’s a very good point,” Zander agreed, his words barely legible around Cecelia’s fingers.

“Keep your mouth open,” Cecelia ordered. “Everyone here is still kind of grappling with how to deal with it. Dr. Kennedy needs to hire a new hygienist, but it’s difficult because he doesn’t want to appear heartless. Rosie hasn’t even been gone a week.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Harper mused. “Can’t he get a temp or something?”

“He could, but the doctor likes consistency so he won’t hire someone to hang around for a few weeks and then pick someone else because that might be jarring for the patients,” Cecelia explained. “Rosie really could’ve picked a better week to die.”

Up until then Cecelia had been nothing but pragmatic and rational. The second statement threw Harper for a loop. “I … what?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that probably sounds really insensitive to you,” Cecelia said. “I liked Rosie, don’t get me wrong, but she was really selfish. If I didn’t know better, I would think she purposely did this just to make me work harder. I was supposed to have a three-day weekend this week … but no.”

Harper and Zander exchanged a curious look. It was halfway between mirth and misery.

“She was murdered, though,” Harper said, licking her lips. “I don’t think she really chose when she wanted to die. In fact, I’m guessing if she did have a choice, she would’ve opted not to die at all.”

Zander bobbed his head up and down. “Yeah.” To Harper it kind of sounded as if he was saying “blah.”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” Cecelia said. “I mean … you had to know Rosie to really get what I’m saying. She was not a nice person. In fact, she was a horrible person. If they had a list of the worst people ever, I think she might make the top ten.”

Harper’s mouth dropped open, but she managed to snap it shut before she drew too much attention to herself. She’d met Rosie so she understood the dislike, but for someone to speak this way about the dead – and so soon after Rosie was murdered – was dumbfounding.

“Didn’t she work here for a long time?” Harper asked, choosing her words carefully. “I thought that’s what Mel said, but I might be mistaken.”

“She was employed here for five years, but I’m not sure I would actually call what she did work,” Cecelia explained. “It was more like she occasionally popped her head in a room or looked up from her phone screen and then expected to collect the same size check the rest of us got every week.”

“That doesn’t sound fair,” Harper said, scratching the back of her ear to hide her discomfort. “Zander and I work together and everyone pulls their own weight. I can’t imagine working in an environment where an important member of the team was lazy.”

“I don’t think it was that she was lazy,” Cecelia clarified. “I think she thought the job was beneath her.”

“Then why go into this field?”

“That’s a good question, and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking it over,” Cecelia replied. “I think she wanted a job where she didn’t have to go to school for a long time, but she could snag a doctor if she wanted one.”

“You mean a dentist?”

“A dentist
is
a doctor.”

“I’m not playing doctor with a dentist,” Zander slurred.

“Since you’re afraid of the dentist, that probably wouldn’t be wise,” Cecelia agreed. “My guess is that it would lead to more performance issues like your friend was talking about earlier.”

Zander glared in Harper’s direction. He was already plotting how to pay her back – and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“So you think Rosie was hoping to snag a doctor, but she didn’t want to go through all of the schooling it would’ve taken to become a nurse so she settled on being a dental hygienist?” For some reason the idea made sense to Harper. “Did she date Dr. Kennedy?”

“Of course not,” Cecelia scoffed. “Dr. Kennedy would never fall for the likes of her. She was … sleazy.”

This definitely wasn’t the way Harper was used to people talking about the deceased. Even those who hated the dead person usually mustered up a few fake words of sorrow – or avoided talking about that person altogether. They never voiced their hate to an audience before the body was even laid to rest.

“But you’re sure that Dr. Kennedy and Rosie didn’t have a thing, right?” Harper pressed.

“I just told you they didn’t,” Cecelia said, making a face. “Dr. Kennedy would never touch her … not that she didn’t throw herself at him whenever she got the chance. She was so gross. I’m not going to miss her at all.”