The Ghost Detective Books 1-3 Special Boxed Edition: Three Fun Cozy Mysteries With Bonus Holiday Story (The Ghost Detective Collection)

by Jane Hinchey

  Galloway sucked in a deep breath and slowly released it, his body relaxing in my arms. We disengaged, and he took a step back, putting some distance between us. “Right. First, I need to deal with Mills. We need another crew out here. Are you okay, do you need medical attention?”

  “I’m fine, just bruised.” I smiled, an overly bright smile, showing all my teeth.

  “Stop snarling at him, Fitz,” Ben said.

  “I’m not snarling, I’m smiling,” I protested.

  “Maybe dial it down a notch.”

  “Ben’s here?” Galloway guessed, looking around as if he might catch a glimpse of him. I nodded. “And, Anita.”

  Galloway’s head jerked in surprise. “She’s here?”

  “Mmmhmm.” I glanced over at Clements and Mills, who were watching us, no doubt wondering what we were whispering about. “You go deal with…” I waved a hand in their direction. “Then we can talk about Anita. And her murder.”

  6

  Officer Sarah Jacobs scraped the skin cells I’d inadvertently collected from Mills into an evidence bag, photographed my bruised neck and torn T-shirt, and took my statement. “Are you going to press charges?” She asked. I looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “Hell yeah, I’m pressing charges.” As if I wouldn’t. Mills had taken things a step too far, and finally, finally, he’d be made accountable.

  She nodded, packing up her kit. “Good. Okay, we’re all done here. I’ll type up your statement. We’ll need you to drop into the station to go through it one more time and sign it, but we have everything we need to begin a preliminary investigation.”

  “And Mills? What happens to him in the meantime?”

  I hadn’t seen him since Jacobs and Young had turned up, followed by another squad car with Sergeant Powell and Officer Collier. Officer Jacobs lowered her voice. “Both he and Clements have been sent back to the station. This is big, Audrey. And bad. What he did to you? Totally not okay.”

  “What do you think will happen to him?”

  “He should be kicked off the force for this. But I’d say they’ll suspend him while it’s investigated. That’s what I’d do, anyway.” She sniffed, then placed a comforting hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry he did this to you. It’s inexcusable.”

  “Agreed.” I nodded. “So, we’re all done now?”

  “You’re free to go.” Picking up her kit, she swiveled on her heel and made her way back to her squad car, securing the kit in the trunk. I texted Galloway. He was up in the attic, examining the crime scene.

  Heading off. See you at mine later?

  His response was immediate. You got it. I’ll cook.

  With a smile, I returned to my car, Ben and Anita in tow.

  “What now?” Anita asked.

  “The ME will do a postmortem examination to confirm the cause of death,” I replied absently.

  “No, not that. I mean you. Us. Now, what do we do?”

  “Oh! Well, first, we’re going back to my place.” I maneuvered my car out of its parking spot, careful not to ding Anita’s car in front of me, nor the patrol car parked behind me. “I want to examine what we have so far.”

  “Oh, good. When Officer Jacobs said you were free to go, I thought she meant, you know, go. As in go away. Do nothing.”

  “Doing nothing is not in my genes.” I grinned.

  “You know what’s in her genes?” Ben chimed in. “Being clumsy. Audrey here has to be the clumsiest person you’ll ever meet.” The rear camera alert began beeping, screeching a warning that I was in imminent danger of a collision. I shifted into drive and continued to execute the world’s worst seventy-six-point turn. All the while, Ben regaled Anita with tales of my escapades, which had her in stitches of laughter. I ignored them both and concentrated on getting my car out of its tight spot without damaging it. Also, with a team of cops currently swarming the Kelsh estate, I didn’t need to get busted holding an animated conversation with my empty cab.

  “Oh, good. You’re home. About my bowl.” Thor greeted me at the door, winding around my ankles and almost tripping me up.

  “Don’t tell me. It’s empty?”

  “Very astute, human.” He sniffed, tail in the air as he waddled his way ahead of me to the living area at the rear of the house. I eyed his round belly and wondered if I needed to put the adorable British shorthair cat I’d inherited from Ben on a diet. Maybe I needed to stop filling his bowl at every “I’m starving” complaint? This was my first turn at pet ownership, and I had a sneaky suspicion Thor was training me and not the other way around.

  “Actually, I brought something for you,” I said.

  “A treat?” He said hopefully.

  “Yes. A treat. But I want you to use your feline skills and tell me if there’s any seafood in it. Can you do that?”

  “Of course!”

  I knelt on the floor and unwrapped the tissue containing the morsel of noodle cup I’d swiped from the attic. Thor approached and sniffed thoroughly. “Hmmm. Notes of chicken. I approve. But also, just the slightest hint of…” he paused, sniffed, then sat back on his haunches. “Fish,” he declared.

  “Really? You can smell fish?” I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but it was looking like my theory just might be right.

  “You doubt me?”

  “No, not at all.” I ruffled the fur on his head. “Here you go. Taste it. Just to be sure.”

  He ate the entire thing, then licked his lips, his tongue snaking out over his whiskers. “Not bad.” He flicked his tail. “And I stand by my initial findings. Sauce. Oyster or fish. Not the real thing.”

  “But, there’s no oyster sauce in Lacey’s noodle cups.” Anita sounded puzzled, and I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Not in her noodle cups, no. But in this one? Yes.”

  “You think someone spiked it?” Ben flopped down onto the sofa, one arm resting along the back.

  I nodded. “I do. Whoever did this knew about your allergy and knew that you’d most likely take Lacey’s noodle cups home as leftovers. And even if you didn’t, if someone else ate them? No harm, no foul. It’s you, specifically, that they targeted. Or, more precisely, your allergy. Anita? This was intentional. Someone set out to—” I almost said kill you, but softened it to, “harm you.”

  “Oh.” Anita blinked, a stunned expression on her face. “But who would…? Why?”

  “That’s what we’re here to find out.” I headed into the kitchen and flicked on the coffeemaker. After the day I’d had if I could take my caffeine intravenously, I would. “Tell me about your movements. From last night onwards.” I said over my shoulder.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” She chewed her lip and looked up at the ceiling. “Umm. So yes. Friday night. Well, it was the museum’s annual dinner. Gosh, it feels so long ago already.”

  “Yes, the dinner.” I encouraged with a smile. “Tell me about the end of the evening, what time you left, who was there. What happened to the food?”

  “Most people had gone by nine-thirty, ten. We encourage those who brought a shared plate to take any leftovers back home with them. Still, some don’t bother, so Lacey and I stayed behind to sort that out and pack up the leftovers in Tupperware containers. But we binned Eleanor’s seafood surprise. I’m so sorry about that, Audrey!”

  “It’s totally okay,” I assured her. “So you and Lacey stayed back to pack-up leftover food. What did you do with it? Take it home?”

  “No, we put it in the historical society's refrigerator. That way, the clean-up crew could snack on it if they wanted, and we could use it for lunches during the week if there was a lot.”

  “And was there much leftover?”

  “Not really. Half a dozen of Lacey’s noodle cups—she always makes extra—a handful of sandwiches, some muffins.”

  “Okay, so after you’d stored the leftovers in the fridge, then what?”

  “We went home. Lacey and I were the last to leave. I locked up, walked to my car. Lacey got a call, so she waved goodbye. I saw her in my rearview, s
tanding next to her car, talking on the phone as I drove away.”

  “What time did you get home?”

  “Just after eleven. Logan was already in bed, asleep. I assume Tyler was out with his friends. There wasn’t a light on in his room, and if he were home, I’d see the glow under the door.”

  “And you went straight to bed?”

  “I did. I was wiped out, I slept right through Logan getting up the next morning.”

  “You said he’d brought you a cup of tea?”

  “He did. I usually wake up when he leaves. He brings me a cup of tea so I can enjoy it in bed. But I must have been more tired than I thought; by the time I woke up, the tea was cold.”

  “So you woke up, the tea was cold… what time was that? And then what did you do?”

  “It was around eight-thirty. I got dressed and headed out.”

  “Breakfast?”

  “I skipped it. I’d overslept, and I wanted to get out to the Kelsh estate and just get on with sorting that mess out.”

  “But you had Lacey’s noodle cups with you. Did you take some home after all?”

  “I stopped at the historical society on the way. I knew there were leftovers in the fridge, so I grabbed the noodle cups and then went out to the farm.” She smiled wistfully. “Lacey knows they’re my favorite, she deliberately makes extra, so I can have the leftovers.”

  I shot a look at Ben. “What is it?” He asked.

  “The thing is, I called into the museum yesterday morning looking for her. Keagan was there as part of the clean-up crew, and he said he hadn’t seen Anita that morning.”

  “You’re saying he lied?”

  “Oh, he probably didn’t see me.” Anita cut in. “I didn’t duck my head into the museum. I knew I’d get roped into helping if they knew I was there. I saw their cars out front, so I knew they had everything in hand.”

  “Oh.” Darn. There went that theory.

  I finished making my coffee and cradled the cup in my hands while my mind went over the events leading up to Anita’s death. Ben, who was still lounging on the sofa, cleared his throat, and I glanced at him.

  “I hate to say this,” he began.

  “Then don’t.” I cut him off with a teasing smile.

  “Ha-ha.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pinning Anita with an intent gaze. “I hate to say this,” he repeated, “but nine out of ten cases, the spouse did it.”

  Anita’s hand fluttered to her throat. “You’re saying Logan killed me?” The incredulity in her voice was unmistakable.

  “It’s possible,” Ben said.

  “Tell me about the supposed affair,” I said, taking a sip of the brew and burning my lip on the scalding liquid.

  Anita rolled her eyes. “I already told you, I don’t think Logan is having an affair. It was Lacey who said that, not me. I told her he’s been distracted lately. Secretive. That I suspect he’s keeping something from me. But I don’t think he’s having an affair.”

  “Distracted and secretive?” I ticked off on my fingers. “What do you think it is, if not an affair?”

  Anita deflated, her shoulders rolling forward and her chin dropping to her chest. “I don’t know.” She mumbled, but I don’t think it’s an affair… it can’t be.”

  Ben and I shared a look. Maybe Anita was burying her head in the sand, and who could blame her? But she said it herself. Her husband was behaving strangely. And now Anita was dead.

  “We need to speak to Logan,” I said, blowing on my coffee to cool it before risking another layer of skin being removed from my lip.

  “It’s not him.” Anita crossed her arms over her chest and planted her feet. I recognized the stance. She’d snapped out of disbelief and misery and had moved on to stubborn and defiant.

  “Maybe it isn’t, but you said yourself. He wasn’t himself. That you thought he was keeping something from you. We need to find out what so we can eliminate him from our investigation.”

  She eyeballed me for a solid minute while she mulled over what I’d said. I continued to blow on my coffee before taking a tentative sip. Ahhh. Bearable. Drinkable. I bolted down a mouthful and promptly choked as the liquid went down the wrong hole. Snorting coffee out of my nose, I set the cup down on the counter while coughing up a storm.

  “You okay, Fitz?” I felt the icy chill where Ben patted my back. I held up a hand and waved him away. I’d be fine once I could draw a breath into my coffee-soaked lungs. Eventually, I got my coughing fit under control and wiped my fingers under my eyes, blinking rapidly to disperse the watering.

  “Oh, my!” Anita fluttered around me. “Are you okay, Audrey?”

  “Sorry.” I croaked, clearing my throat. “Went down the wrong way. I’m just going to change my shirt, and then we’ll go see Logan.”

  7

  For the second time that day, I pulled up out the front of the Finley house. This time a truck sat in the driveway with a Finley Construction decal on the door. I turned to look at Anita, who was sitting in the back seat.

  “Okay?” I asked. I knew the police had already informed Logan of his wife’s death. I’d thought at the time that Anita would have left the crime scene to join her husband, but she’d elected to stay with Ben and me. This would be her first meeting with her husband and son since she’d died.

  She was looking at her house, a craftsman style bungalow that was clearly well cared for. “Yes.” She eventually said and stepped through the car door. Ben followed, while I went the more conventional route and opened my door. The two of them waited behind me while I knocked, and I thought about how odd it was for Anita to be outside with us when she could have just walked through. I cast a quick glance at her over my shoulder. She looked pale. But then, she was a ghost, of course, she looked pale. But she was twisting her fingers together and chewing her bottom lip. I guess I’d be agitated too if I’d just turned up dead, and everyone thought my husband was the killer. Not that I have a husband.

  The door swung open, and Tyler Finley scowled at me.

  “What do you want? Now isn’t a good time.” He was pale, his eyes red-rimmed.

  “Who is it, Tyler?” A male voice called, then a tall man with a shock of silver hair appeared behind him. It had to be Logan, his father, the family resemblance was impossible to miss.

  “Mr. Finley? Hi, I’m Audrey Fitzgerald, I was working with your wife.” I cleared my throat. “Actually, I was the one who found her.”

  Logan’s lips trembled, then firmed into a hard line. “You’d better come in.” He held the door wider, and Tyler spun on his heel without a word, retreating upstairs.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said, stepping inside.

  “Thank you,” Logan replied. “We’re in the living room. To your right.”

  We turned out to be Lacey Stevens, Keagan Dunn, and Noreen Bellamy, all sitting side by side on the sofa, cups of tea in hand. Lacey jumped to her feet and offered me her seat. “Audrey, please, sit. Tea? Coffee?”

  “Coffee would be great.” After Lacey had left for the kitchen, I turned my attention to Keagan and Noreen next to me. “Word travels fast.”

  “In a town this size?” Keagan said. “Undoubtedly. We—” he indicated Noreen sitting to his left, “were just leaving the museum when we heard. We came straight here.”

  “Right. And Lacey? She was part of the clean-up crew, too, wasn’t she?” Although she hadn’t turned up when I dropped by earlier.

  “She was meant to be,” Noreen sniffed. “But she didn’t show. Keagan and I, as he said, came straight here. Imagine our surprise to find Lacey already here. We thought maybe she’d been called into a shift at the hotel, but apparently not.” There was a distinct note of disapproval in Noreen’s voice. I shot a glance at Ben, who was standing behind Logan’s chair. He shrugged. I wondered what Lacey had been up to this morning while her best friend was dying. She certainly hadn’t been where she was meant to be.

  Logan cleared his throat. “You said you found Anit
a?” His hands trembled as he reached for his coffee cup. Anita, who’d been absently gazing around her own living room, moved closer to him.

  “Oh, darling.” She cooed, touching his arm. He jerked, no doubt feeling the icy coldness of her touch.

  “Yes,” I answered, then glanced at Keagan and Noreen, who was practically holding their breath, waiting to hear the juicy details. “Maybe you’d prefer to discuss this in private?” I suggested. Logan jerked his head toward the couple on the sofa, as if he’d forgotten they were even there.

  “Private. Yes, yes, that might be best.” He agreed.

  “Oh. Well, yes, of course.” Noreen immediately set her teacup down on the coffee table in front of the sofa and got to her feet, patted Logan’s arm, and let herself out, Keagan hot on her heels.

  Lacey returned with my coffee just as the others were leaving. Placing the drink on the coffee table in front of me, she addressed Logan. “Is everything okay?”

  I answered for him. “Logan and I just need a chat in private. If you don’t mind?” I raised an eyebrow and cocked my head toward the front door.

  Lacey eyeballed me for a second, then smiled. “I’ll just go say goodbye to Tyler.” She rested her hand on Logan’s arm then headed upstairs to what I presumed was Tyler’s bedroom. The stairs creaked under her weight. Anita, who’d been standing in the doorway watching, wandered into the kitchen. Ben remained behind Logan’s armchair. I did my best to ignore both of them.

  “You wanted to talk?” Logan prompted.

  “Yes. As I said, I’m Audrey Fitzgerald… I’m a private investigator. I wasn’t actually here to help Anita with the Kelsh estate. She hired me for something else.”

  He blanched. “She hired you? What for?”

  “To find her missing necklace.”

  He deflated back against his chair as if relieved. I narrowed my eyes. Had Lacey been on the money after all, and Logan was having an affair?

  “That darn thing? I’m sorry she wasted your time with it.” He said.