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

by Jane Hinchey

  I nodded at the cards. “I’m going to have to take those.” I told Jacob. “And hand them over to the police.”

  “Yeah, I figured that.” He rose, moving slowly so as not to startle me. “I’ll get a bag to put them in.”

  As soon as he was out of earshot I whispered to Ben, “that stank that’s stuck to him, do you think that could be an illness? Like he has some obsessive-compulsive type thing, and that’s what you see?”

  “I wouldn’t say he has a compulsive order, not in the OCD range, that’s not reflected in his apartment at all. If he had OCD, the cards wouldn’t be left in a mess like they are. And I’ve checked out the rest of his apartment. He’s neat and tidy for sure, but I wouldn’t say OCD.”

  “So his obsession is just with Emily? I wonder if there’s a name for that.”

  “Psycho fits the bill.” Ben muttered. “I’m going to check that he’s not coming back with a knife.”

  I’d been fine until he’s said that. Now I was worried Jacob had me fooled. I stood, moving behind the armchair once more while I waited for Jacob to return, sagging in relief when Ben called out, “It’s okay, he’s unarmed.”

  Jacob returned, and I watched while he gathered up the cards and shoved them into a zip-lock bag.

  “How often did you see Myra?” I asked conversationally.

  “Every few days.” Jacob replied without looking up.

  My eyebrows shot up. “I thought you saw her daily?”

  “Nah. I saw her in person every few days and in between I’d get readings via her website.”

  “She has a website?” Rookie error, that should have been one of the first things I did when I took this case, research Myra Hansen. I’d remedy that as soon as I got home.

  “Yeah, she gets a lot of business via her online portal.”

  With my mental Rolodex full to bursting, I thanked Jacob for his time and left, all without being murdered. Returning to my car, I put in a call to get the broken taillight repaired tomorrow morning, then headed home. A shower and change of clothes was long overdue. I hadn’t missed the way Jacob kept eyeing the ketchup stain on my shirt, like he was itching to soak it in Vanish.

  “Holy Hell.” Ben whistled in my ear. We stood in the open doorway of my apartment, surveying the carnage inside. Someone had trashed my apartment. And I mean trashed. From my vantage point I could see the sofa had been torn to shreds, stuffing scattered around the room. It looked like every drawer and cupboard in the entire apartment had been pulled open and the contents dumped on the floor.

  “No wait! Fitz, he’s still in there!” Ben’s warning shout came a second too late. I’d taken a step inside when a dark figure came barreling at me, charging past as he fled. I staggered back, my foot snagging on the lip of the doorframe. I couldn’t stop my backward momentum, arms flailing as I tried to regain my balance and not end up on my backside. What I hadn’t counted on was ricocheting into the railing running the length of the walkway outside and toppling over. The world spun crazily as I flipped through the air and over the side.

  “Audrey!” Ben made a grab for my wrist, but passed right through me. I grabbed hold of the second railing, my body slamming into the side of the building with an oof. Dangling by one hand, I caught sight of the intruder pounding toward the staircase at the end of the building. Big man. Not fit, judging by his gait and the glimpse of a beer belly. Dressed in black sweats and a black hoodie that looked oddly bulky.

  “Swing your other arm up.” Ben commanded, crouched by the railing and leaning over to me. I did, managing to grab hold with both hands. Okay. Not going to die after all, but my shoulder was not thanking me for this extra beating it was taking. I managed to heave one leg up over the edge and pull myself up, rolling onto the walkway to lay on my back and stare up at the sky. “Are you okay?” Ben asked, sitting by my side, resting his hand on my arm.

  “That was unexpected.” I grinned, ignoring the icy chill of Ben’s touch, needing the comfort it brought. That had been too close for comfort. Sitting up, I rolled my shoulders, wincing at the twinge. “I think I’m going to need another Ashley massage.” I said. The oils she’d used, and her magic touch, had done wonders for my sore and bruised muscles after the car accident.

  “I think you’re going to need to call the cops.” Ben said. He stood and disappeared inside to survey the damage. Using the railing, I pulled myself to my feet and joined him. Seeing my bag just inside the doorway where I’d dropped it, I rummaged inside for my phone.

  “You know,” Ben said, hands on hips, standing in the center of the room. “Whoever that was? They weren’t here to steal anything.”

  “What makes you say that?” I was a little bit amazed at how calm I was, considering. I’d arrived home to find a thug destroying my home, then had accidentally thrown myself over the first-floor railing of my apartment building. I don’t believe it had been the thugs intent to push me over the railing, he couldn’t have known my sense of balance left something to be desired—or that I was the clumsy type who could trip over thin air—I was probably giving credit where it wasn’t due, but anyway, I didn’t think whoever had trashed my apartment had meant to harm me. Not physically. Otherwise, why break in while I’m not home? Why not wait until I am and then—what? Stick a knife in me? I shuddered, freaking myself out.

  “It looks to me like he wanted to damage or destroy pretty much everything. It’s like he was filled with rage. Even your mattress has been slashed. But your TV is still here, which let’s face it, is pretty much the only thing worth stealing.”

  Ben was right. My belongings had been torn apart, quite literally. “You don’t think they were searching for something?”

  “Could be. But would you really go to the trouble and effort of tearing open a mattress? Like, what are you going to keep in there? All you need to do is look to see there’s no stitch line where you’d sewn it back up. My take is that this is vandalism, pure and simple.”

  Phone in hand, I dialed the police and reported the break-in, then sat on the kitchen counter, Ben by my side, while I waited for them to arrive.

  “You should call Kade.” Ben said.

  “Yeah.” I should. I had his number on the screen when I heard booted feet outside.

  “Police! Anyone here?”

  Ben and I looked at each other. Of all the cops, it had to be Mills. What? He happened to be in the area? And this had to be the fastest response time from FBPD in history. He was obviously still following me. The big question was why? What had I done to deserve this vendetta?

  “Yeah, inside.” I called out, remaining seated on the countertop, watching warily when Mills appeared in my line of sight. His hand was resting on his gun as his eyes swept the room.

  “Call Kade.” Ben urged, nudging me in the ribs. I did, my finger hitting the call button.

  Mills caught my movement the minute I put the phone up to my ear. “Put the phone down.” He ordered. I ignored him. As far as I knew it wasn’t illegal to make a call after you’d been burgled. Technically, I don’t think I’d been burgled, just vandalized, but whatever, I’d call whoever I damn well wanted.

  “Audrey, hi.” Galloway answered just as Mills took a threatening step in my direction. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he snatched the phone from my hand and ground it under his boot.

  “Detective Galloway,” I said, overly loud. Mills froze. Yeah buddy, I’m not the stupid dame you have me pegged for.

  “What’s happened?” Jeez, he was good. He knew, from the way I said his name, that things were far from okay. “Audrey, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I assured him. “But there’s been a break in at my apartment.”

  “Your apartment?” I could hear the puzzled tone in his voice. “Don’t you live at Ben’s house?”

  “Yeah, no.” I’d been meaning to tell him for quite some time that I wasn’t actually living at Ben’s, that I hadn’t moved in yet, but the timing had never been right. And in the whole scheme of things, what did i
t matter anyway? “I haven’t officially moved in yet.”

  There was a pause while he digested that. “Right. Okay. I’ll be right there.”

  “Officer Mills is already here.” I said.

  “Hold tight. I’m on my way. Try not to knee him in the nuts.”

  “No promises.”

  15

  Galloway arrived with reinforcements. Sergeant Addison Young stepped in behind him. “Holy heck, this place has been done over.” She said. She crossed to Mills who was poking around over near my bed. “Find anything?” She asked him. He stiffened at her approach and a ruddy hue crept into his cheeks. “Negative.”

  Galloway crossed to my side. “How are you holding up?”

  I gave him my most reassuring smile. I’m not sure if I pulled it off or if I was merely baring my teeth. “I’m fine.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  I did. I noticed Sergeant Young stopped to listen, but Mills got on rummaging around in my belongings. He wasn’t even wearing gloves. Idiot.

  “He was inside when you returned?” Galloway asked.

  “Yes. I didn’t realize that, of course. The door was open, I stepped inside and he came rushing out, knocking me out of the way. He ran off before I could stop him.” Ben snorted at my omission of falling over the railing.

  “And you’re not hurt?” He pressed. I reflexively rolled my sore shoulder, wincing as the muscles protested. “I’m fine.”

  His eyes narrowed in on the movement. “You’re not. You’re in pain but too stubborn to admit it.”

  “True. Can we move on now, please?” I grinned. He sighed and shook his head. “What am I going to do with you, Fitz?”

  “Well, you could help me gather up a few clothes to take to Ben’s. Guess I’m going to be officially moving in.”

  “About damn time.” Ben grinned.

  “Sure.” He held out a hand, and I placed mine in it, allowing him to help me down from the counter. I landed and stumbled into him, his hard chest halting my momentum, his grip on my hand firm. I allowed myself the small luxury of remaining leaning against him for a solid three seconds too long, but it was nice, leaning against him like this. He lowered his head so his mouth was next to my ear and whispered, “how long has Mills been here?”

  “A while.” I whispered back. “He got here really fast. Must’ve been in the neighborhood.” I eased back, putting some space between us. “Some stuff happened today—I’ll tell you about it later.” My eyes shot to Mills, who was watching us. Galloway nodded, then turned. “What did you want to take?”

  I surveyed my poor apartment. There wasn’t much that hadn’t been damaged, and since Ben’s house came fully furnished, I didn’t necessarily need to take anything other than my personal belongings. But I couldn’t leave my apartment like this, my landlord would have a fit.

  “I’ll just take my clothes and toiletries for now and come back later to clear this lot out.” It wasn’t how I wanted this chapter of my life to end. A wave of nostalgia washed over me. I remembered picking up the old, battered dresser from a Trash ‘n Treasure one windy Sunday afternoon. Ben and I had borrowed his dad’s truck, heaved the dresser into the back of it and then lugged the darn thing upstairs to my apartment. Now its doors hung off and deep gouges scarred the wooden top. If I wanted too, I could probably have it repaired, find new doors for it, but the truth was, I didn’t need it anymore. And that kinda made me sad.

  “Lots of memories here, huh?” Galloway said.

  “Yeah.” Strengthening my resolve, I squared my shoulders and tipped my chin in the air. I’d known this day was coming. No use moping about it. Plus, it would be better for Thor if I was living in Ben’s house permanently. I just hated that it had come about in such an awful way.

  “Can I touch stuff?” I asked, my eyes scanning, searching for the one suitcase I owned. I couldn’t see it, so I hoped it had survived in its hiding spot under my bed.

  “Your prints will be on everything, anyway.” Galloway nodded. “Sergeant, have the place dusted. I’ll get Audrey to provide a list of any missing items.”

  “On it, Detective.” Sergeant Young replied. She’d been busy snapping photos of the scene, something Mills had neglected to do. In fact, all Mills appeared to be doing was rummaging through my stuff. Ewwww.

  “You own a hammer, Audrey?” Sergeant Young then asked. I snorted. “No.” Can you imagine? Me? With tools? No, that was what Ben was for. If ever I needed anything repaired, it was Ben to the rescue—he came complete with his own toolbox.

  Sergeant Young picked up something from the floor between her finger and thumb and held it aloft. A hammer. That’s how the intruder had done so much damage. He’d gone after my hard furnishings with a darn hammer!

  “Bag it.” Galloway ordered, then rested a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  You didn’t have to tell me twice, because seeing that hammer drove it home that whoever did this was really, really angry with me and they wanted me to know it. Message received. Only one tiny detail was missing. Who, exactly, was angry at me? I had no clue. It could be one of several people.

  Given how small my apartment was, the unholy mess, and four living adults, one ghost, it was crowded to say the least. I elbowed past Mills to retrieve my suitcase, heaving it onto the bed and flipped it open. Packing was a matter of scooping up armfuls of clothes and shoving them into said suitcase.

  I was in the bathroom, throwing my toiletries into a shopping bag, when I heard Galloway berating Mills. I stood and unashamedly eavesdropped.

  “Mills!” Galloway barked. “Where are your gloves? Jeez, man, how many years have you been a cop?”

  “I’m out.” Mills grumbled.

  “Out? Of gloves? Why haven’t you restocked your vehicle?”

  “Haven’t gotten to it yet. I’ll do it when I get back to the station.”

  “Do it now. You can go. Young’s got this, you can get back to traffic—after you’ve restocked.” I didn’t hear Mills’ reply, but I felt the vibration of booted feet stomping across the floor, I cracked the bathroom door open and peeked outside. I could see Galloway and Young standing by the front door, examining where the intruder had busted it open. Mills was nowhere to be seen.

  My phone buzzed, startling me, and I dropped the bag of toiletries. Fumbling for my phone I finally got it out of my pocket in time to see mom’s name flash across the screen before it rang out. I hit re-dial.

  “Oh, you are there.” Mom answered. Then chuckled. “Drop your phone again? I was going to give you a couple of minutes and call back.”

  I laughed with her. It was a known fact in my family that I tended to drop my phone when it rings. A lot. “Couldn’t get it out of my back pocket.” I explained.

  “That’s new.” Mom chuckled.

  “Not really. Anyway, glad you called… now I don’t want you to worry—” I began, only to have her jump in, worrying. “What? What’s happened? Are you alright?”

  “Mom,” I sighed, “what did I just say? Don’t worry.”

  “I worry when you say stuff like that. Just tell me.”

  “There’s been a break in at my apartment. It’s okay, I wasn’t home, but the place is a bit of a mess.” Actually, the place was a lot of a mess, but I’d sugar coat it for my mom. “So I’m doing it. I’m finally moving into Ben’s house.”

  My announcement was met with silence. Then she was off, a million words a minute. “That’s wonderful! Not that you got broken into, no, that’s not wonderful at all, that’s awful. But you know your father and I worry about you living there, it’s not the best neighborhood in the world.” She sniffed. “But Ben’s house is lovely. You’ll be happy there. What do you need? Dad can bring the truck around. Brad and Dustin can help too.” I’m sure my brother and brother-in-law appreciated being roped into helping me move. Not.

  “Whoa, slow your roll.” I protested. “I won’t be taking any furniture—Ben’s place comes fully equipped. But…” I chewed m
y lip. Mothers were worriers and mine was no different. “My apartment was kinda vandalized.”

  “Kinda?”

  “Definitely. It was definitely vandalized.”

  “How vandalized are we talking? Smashed in walls?”

  “No.” Thank God. From what I could tell, no structural damage to the apartment itself. Just the contents. “I’m pretty sure every piece of crockery is broken.” I eyeballed the kitchen where the cupboard doors stood open. Shards of broken cups, plates, and bowls littered the floor. “Someone had a hammer and went to town on my furniture. Ripped up the sofa and my mattress.”

  Mom sucked in a horrified breath. “That’s awful!”

  “Right?” I ran a hand around the back of my neck. I needed coffee. And that’s when it hit me. “Oh my God!” I squeaked, rushing to the kitchen alcove, eyes searching frantically. But there it was, shoved to the back of the counter, untouched, unharmed. My Keurig.

  “What? Audrey! What’s happened now?” Mom’s voice was frantic.

  “It’s okay,” I soothed. “My Keurig is unharmed.”

  “You and that darn machine.”

  “It’s my lifeline.” I agreed. “But anyway, I thought maybe another family working bee? On the weekend, to clean this place up. Most of the stuff will need to go straight to the dump. I should hire a skip.” My family had helped me clean Ben’s house after the police had left it in a shambles after his murder, fingerprint dust everywhere. I hoped they wouldn’t mind being used for manual labor again so soon.

  “Of course, darling. Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks, mom.” Then I remembered it was she who’d called me. “How are things with you? Everything okay?”

  “Oh yes, all good. I was ringing to remind you we’d promised to go to Amanda’s Yoga class tonight.” Crap. We had. And by we, I mean my mom, myself, and my sister Laura. Amanda, my sister-in-law, had given us all yoga vouchers for Christmas and they were about to expire. As a paralegal at Beasley, Tate & Associates, Amanda kept immaculate records, and she knew we hadn’t used the vouchers. A rather pointed conversation at last week’s family dinner had reminded us of the fact.