Ghostly Camping
A Harper Harlow Mystery Book 16
Lily Harper Hart
HarperHart Publications
Copyright © 2020 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.
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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
Mailing List
About the Author
Books by Lily Harper Hart
Books by Amanda M. Lee
1
One
“I’m thinking I should wear white.”
Zander Pritchett held up a white shirt from his best friend Harper Harlow’s closet and stared at himself in her full-length mirror, taking on a far-off expression that Harper recognized as trouble.
“I don’t think wearing white when going camping is a good idea,” Harper countered as she studied the pile of clothes in front of her. She wasn’t the sort of person who over-packed but she did consider herself prepared ... and multiple days in the woods could lead to a bevy of unforeseen problems that would take more than a few shirts and pants out of the running for re-wearing purposes. “You’ll stain a white shirt in five minutes flat.”
The look Zander shot her was withering. “I wasn’t talking about camping. Everybody knows you wear flannel if you’re going camping.”
Amused despite herself, Harper arched an eyebrow. “Where did you hear that?”
“I know things.”
She waited. If anything, growing up with her best friend — who never met a conversation he didn’t want to take control of — had taught her that Zander was going to get his point across whether she prodded him or not.
“I’ve seen shows on people who like to camp,” he volunteered, tilting his head as he went back to staring at his reflection. “All the people in those shows wear flannels.”
“Uh-huh.” Harper wasn’t convinced. “What shows are built around camping?”
“Plenty of them.”
“In other words you’re making it up.”
“No.” Zander tossed the shirt onto the bed and fixed the blonde a few feet away with a harsh look. “I’m a truth-teller. That means I only tell the truth no matter what. No exaggeration or miscommunication.”
It took everything Harper had not to laugh. Zander was many things, including a born exaggerator, although he was also the type of person who refused to see his shortcomings. In fact, Harper was fairly certain Zander didn’t believe he had shortcomings. “Well, I think you’ll look great in flannel,” she offered, grinning. “You’ve always reminded me of a lumberjack.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know you’re laughing inside that busy brain of yours, but I’m prepared for this trip. I bought six new flannels.”
“I can’t wait to see them.” Harper went back to staring at the duffle bags on the bed. One belonged to her and the other was for her fiancé Jared Monroe. Since they were going camping, sleeping in actual tents and everything, they’d opted for bags instead of suitcases. For the first time in her life, she found she was having a packing emergency. “I’m taking a few flannels, too.”
“Oh, you can’t wear flannels.” Zander was grave. “If we don’t coordinate colors, we’ll clash in photos. You need to stick to solid colors, like black ... and, well, black.”
Harper was back to being amused. “Do you plan on taking a lot of photos while we’re traipsing around the Michigan wilderness?”
He bobbed his head without hesitation. “Um, yes. We’re participating in a mystery event. There are supposed to be ghosts ... and fake murders ... and clues to follow. This is right up our alley. We’re going to need photos for the website.”
Harper was taken aback. She hadn’t considered that. When she agreed to take her ghost-hunting abilities on a promotional outing to help a Michigan-based business get a foothold in the lucrative tourist industry, she hadn’t thought much of it. It was summer and Jared had vacation time coming up, which made things convenient. It seemed like a fun way to get away from it all.
Then reality struck in the form of Hurricane Zander and the train derailed. What was initially supposed to be a trip for two was now a trip for four and the romantic nights Harper had been picturing spending under the stars were now something else entirely.
“I don’t know if we should be turning this into a promotional opportunity for us,” Harper hedged, her mind busy as she considered potential ramifications. Honestly, she was famous in her little corner of the world. She’d garnered attention through her company, Ghost Hunters, Inc. — or GHI to those in the know — as the premiere ghost hunter in the area. She’d even donated her time to law enforcement over the years, coming through on a variety of missing person cases and murders. This was something else entirely, though. “Perhaps we should just play it by ear or something.”
“If you say so.” Zander said the words, but Harper knew him well enough to realize he had no intention of relinquishing what he considered free advertising. “That’s not important right now, though. Let’s go back to talking about me.”
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
“Well, for starters, where did we land on the white?” Zander picked up the discarded shirt again and held it in front of him. “I think I’ll look good in white.”
Harper’s forehead wrinkled. “I thought you were wearing flannel.”
“Not camping, you maroon.” Zander lightly flicked his friend’s ear, causing her to flinch. “I’m talking about the wedding. You’re no longer the only bride in our friend group.”
That’s when realization dawned on Harper and she let loose a legitimate smile. “How could I forget that? You’re getting married, same as me.”
“I am.” Zander was wistful as he gazed at his reflection. He was a handsome man — the best-looking man in Whisper
