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

by Jane Hinchey

  Ben, having seen who’d turned up, joined me on the porch. “Call Galloway. Before they do anything stupid.”

  “What? Like, arrest me?” I whispered. It wouldn’t be the first time. I pulled out my phone and called Galloway, hating that I needed this level of protection.

  “Finished with your client already?” Galloway answered on the first ring.

  “Hold on a second,” I replied, then lowered the phone, keeping the call open so he could listen in.

  “Officers, her body is upstairs, in the attic.” I moved aside as they approached, the steps up to the porch creaking in protest at their combined weight.

  Mills looked me up and down, a sneer curling his lip. “Always sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted.”

  “Hardly.” I shot back. “Anita Fielding was my client, I had a meeting scheduled with her.”

  “So just a coincidence that wherever you are, a dead body turns up?” Clements snapped, eyes flashing.

  “No such thing as a coincidence,” Mills said, brushing past me and giving me a hard nudge with his elbow, making me stagger.

  “Asshole.” Ben hissed, clenching his fists. I wanted to reassure him it was okay, that I expected nothing less, but I couldn’t risk talking to him in front of these two.

  “Stay here and don’t move.” Clements pointed at me and then the porch. “Do not move from this spot. I mean it.” His hand rested on the revolver attached to his belt.

  “I’ve no intention of going anywhere, officer. Steer clear of the kitchen, though. There’s a reason the door’s closed.”

  He sniffed and headed inside without replying, Mills close behind. Lifting the phone back up to my ear, I said, “get that?”

  “I did,” Galloway replied. “Where are you?”

  “Dudley Kelsh’s house. I’ll send you the address.”

  “On my way. Stay away from those two, okay?”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” After disconnecting the call, I forwarded on the text I’d received from Keagan that had Dudley’s address, then turned to Ben and Anita.

  “While we wait, let’s go through your morning,” I suggested, keeping my voice low and the phone to my ear in case I was overheard talking to myself. “I thought we were meant to meet this morning at ten, but when I got to your place, you weren’t home.” I directed my statement to Anita. She clamped a hand over her mouth in horror. “Oh, my gosh! You’re right! I’m so sorry, I admit, it totally slipped my mind that we had a meeting.”

  I nodded, I figured as much. “I’m not one for gossip, but given the circumstances, I think this is important…” I began.

  “Oh?”

  “Keagan mentioned something to me this morning. He said you thought your husband was having an affair—” I ignored her startled gasp and continued, “was that why you were distracted this morning? Did something happen at home?”

  “Why would he even say that?” She protested, running her hands over her stomach and looking downright flustered.

  “Apparently, he heard it from Lacey.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Lacey?”

  I nodded. “Yep. So is there anything you wanted to tell me?” I paused, waiting for her to blurt out the truth, but she remained stubbornly silent. “I’m not asking to be nosy or to gossip.” I pointed out. “But things have changed, Anita. You’re dead.”

  “I never thought he was having an affair.” She said. “It was Lacey who kept bringing that up.”

  “Oh?”

  “I told her he wasn’t himself. That something was troubling him, and when I asked him about it, he said everything was fine. But I knew that it wasn’t. I was concerned he didn’t feel he could tell me what was bothering him, but I never thought he was having an affair.” An edge of annoyance colored her words.

  “But Lacey did, obviously,” Ben said.

  Anita rolled her eyes. “All that woman thinks about is sex, honestly. She’s my best friend, and I love her, but good lord, she has a one-track mind. Every time I mentioned my problems with Logan, she brought up the affair thing. Whenever she came around, and Tyler was home, she’d tease him about having a girlfriend.”

  “Does he? Have a girlfriend?” I asked out of curiosity. I’d be surprised if he didn’t, being such an attractive young man. He’d acted disappointed when he opened the door and saw it was me on the doorstep like he’d been waiting on someone else.

  “He’s started seeing someone but won’t tell me who,” Anita admitted. “He’s as secretive as his father.”

  The front door suddenly smashed open, and Mills barreled through, hand over his mouth, his face an interesting shade of green. Bolting down the front steps, he vomited all over what was once a garden bed but was now a jumble of weeds.

  “Gross,” Ben said, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the overweight man retch repeatedly until there was nothing left to bring up. Wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, Mills straightened.

  “Found the kitchen then?” I asked poker-faced. “I warned you not to go in there.” He scowled but didn’t say a word, stomping back inside, mouth, and nose burrowed in the crook of his elbow. With the front door standing open, the stench from the kitchen wafted out.

  “Let’s go stand over there.” I pointed to the rear of the patrol car. “You guys can’t smell, but I can, and those two have disturbed something putrid in the kitchen, I can smell it from here.”

  “It’s funny how you get used to it,” Anita said, following me. “The first time I stepped inside this house, I nearly passed out from the smell. But then I just acclimatized, I guess.”

  “I wonder if that’s it?” Ben said. “Seafood in the kitchen. Particles of it in the air, and you breathed it in, and it triggered your allergy.”

  I frowned. “I’ve never heard of that before. Do you think it’s possible?”

  “Doubtful,” Anita said. “I’ve been in fish markets before, and the smell hasn’t triggered an allergic reaction. I have to ingest it.”

  “There goes that theory.” Ben shrugged.

  “Plus, if that were true, she’d have used her EpiPen. Only I couldn’t find it. I searched your bag, under your body… it’s nowhere to be found.”

  Anita frowned. “That can’t be right. I always carry it with me. That’s why I only use the one handbag, so I don’t forget to switch it over.”

  “How sensitive is your allergy?” Ben asked.

  “Very. Just a morsel of any seafood is enough to send me into anaphylaxis.”

  “Fish and crustaceans?”

  She nodded. “And mollusks. Some people aren’t allergic to all three, they can eat some seafood, but I drew the short straw. I have to watch out for sauces and salad dressing too.”

  “Really? There’s seafood in sauce?” Ben asked.

  “There is. Besides the obvious oyster sauce and fish sauce, there's anchovies in Worcestershire sauce and some brands of soy sauce, so it’s not as simple as avoiding fish on the menu, it can pop up anywhere—which is why I always have my EpiPen with me. There is absolutely, categorically, no way I would not have it with me.”

  I looked at Ben, who looked back at me, face solemn. I knew I was right, knew that Anita had been murdered, but glancing back at the house, I doubted very much that Sergeant Clements and Officer Mills would reach the same conclusion.

  “Have you had to use it recently?” I asked. “No chance you used it and forgot to get a new one? They’re a one time use, right?”

  “They are single-use, yes, but you get two per pack, and I still have one in the box at home. Once I’ve used the one I carry with me, I’ll get a prescription for another pack, so I’m never in the situation of not having an EpiPen at my disposal.”

  Ben turned to me. “Sounds like she’s all over it. Highly doubtful she wouldn’t take her EpiPen with her, especially knowing she has a deadly allergy.”

  “Wait.” Anita stepped closer. “You’re saying someone did this intentionally? You think I was murdered?” She�
��d been remarkably cool, calm, and collected up until this point, surprisingly accepting of her recent demise. “But who would murder me?” The last was said in a sob, and I shot a look at Ben. I couldn’t comfort her, she was incorporeal, and I didn’t fancy shoving my hand through a ghost thank you very much. He pulled Anita into a hug, tucking her head beneath his chin. Where their ghostly bodies collided, little sparkles danced in the air.

  I moved away, giving them space while Ben muttered soothing words to the dead woman. Inside I could hear the house creak and groan as the two policemen moved around. I wondered if overweight Mills would go through a rotten floorboard, and my lips curled at the visual forming in my brain. Then I heard a curse and thundering footsteps, could visually track the noise through the house until Mills stormed out, heading straight for me. I instinctively backed up a few steps, but then made myself stop and hold my ground.

  “You!” He snarled, face red with anger, finger poking me in the chest. “Are a pain in my ass.”

  “I aim to please.” I shot back, refusing to be intimidated.

  “I just got a call from your boyfriend. Detective Galloway. Why did you have to go and call him, huh? Now he’s all up in my grill that some broad has kicked it in this dump.”

  “It was a personal call,” I replied. “We had a date. Obviously, I’m going to be late.” I waved an arm vaguely in the direction of the house. Ben and Anita had fallen silent, no doubting watching Officer Mills approaching explosion point. I cocked my head, wondering if his head would actually pop off. His eyes were bulging, his skin so red it was as if he had a nasty sunburn. I didn’t need to look to know his hands would be clenched into fists.

  He leaned over me, so close his belly pushed me, and I almost took a step back to get away from the unpleasant aroma of his body odor, not to mention breath, as he barked into my face, “I’ve had it up to here with you, you interfering bi—”

  “Language, Officer Mills.” I cut him off. “That’s no way to speak to a member of the public.”

  “Hey!” Ben shouted, crossing to us. “Get away from her, you jerk.” I felt the icy rush as Ben made a lunge for Mills and passed right through. I shot him a look. You can’t help me.

  Mills stubby fingers gripped the fabric of my T-shirt, pulling the collar tight in his fist, and jerking. I felt the fabric rip. “I’m warning you, Fitzgerald,” his voice dropped, low and menacing, and a shiver danced up my spine. I’d never particularly thought of Mills as a physical threat before, just a moron who hides behind the power of his badge, but now I was rethinking things. We were out on the Kelsh farm. Isolated. Anything could happen. Bad things could happen. I was pretty sure it was Mills who’d broken into my apartment, the one who hip and shouldered me over the railing in his bid to escape a few short weeks ago, but I had no proof.

  “Let. Her. Go!” Ben was wildly throwing punches and was so comical my lips twitched. Big mistake. Mills naturally assumed my mirth was directed at him and not the ghost valiantly trying to pulverize him with incorporeal fists. His temper exploded. Grabbing my shirt with both hands, he lifted me off my feet, shaking me in anger. I was so surprised I dangled like a rag doll, momentarily stunned.

  “Oh, my!” Anita gasped. Ben went ballistic. “Use your knees, Fitz,” he shouted. “That old Fitzgerald ball buster should do the trick.”

  Ah yes, I’d brought many a man to his knees with a knee to his groin. Only I was at the wrong angle and had nothing to brace myself on since my feet were currently several inches off the ground. Which left me one course of action. Take back my power. Wrapping my legs as best as I could around the plump man’s waist, I anchored myself to him, leaned back to get some momentum, then shot forward, slamming my forehead into his.

  The headbutt was effective. Mills released me with a yowl, staggering backward with both hands to his forehead. I didn’t have enough time to get my legs beneath me. I crashed backward, my butt throbbing at the jarring impact with the hard earth, just as much as my forehead smarted from connecting with his skull. Mills recovered before I could gain my feet, his face enraged, an angry red lump on his forehead, and throbbing veins told me he was not pleased.

  He charged at me, throwing himself on top of me and forcing me onto my back. My breath whooshed out, and I struggled to draw a breath from the sheer weight of him. I wheezed in disbelief, my lungs protesting. Mills' hands closed around my neck and squeezed, his eyes manic as he held his face inches from mine while I kicked, bucked, and writhed beneath him, trying to break free. He was heavy, and I was running out of air. Above the ringing in my ears, I could hear Anita screaming, and Ben yelling, and the revelation that I was in serious trouble brought my own mortality into stark focus. Mills wasn’t messing about. He intended to kill me, consequences be damned. It was up to me how I went out, and this wasn’t it, no way I’d let this douche take me down without a fight.

  Think, Audrey, think. But it was difficult with a distinct lack of oxygen. I stopped thrashing around; it was achieving nothing. My slight build could not dislodge his heavier one. He had the upper hand, but I wasn’t done yet. I dropped my hands that had been clawing at his wrists and felt along the ground, scratching into the earth. A rock. Anything that I could use as a weapon.

  “On your left.” Ben crouched by my head. “There’s a rock to your left. You’ve almost got it.”

  I felt around blindly, my fingers finally finding the rock and closing around it. It wasn’t big, but I didn’t need big, I just needed hard. I swung, heard the sickening crunch as it connected with the side of his head. The pressure eased on my neck. With my other hand, I scooped up a handful of dirt and tossed it into his face. He reared back, hands going to his eyes. Bucking my hips with all my might, I managed to dislodge him. As he toppled to his side, I crawled away, gasping in great gulps of air, ignoring the dirt and gravel that dug into my palms and knees. Rather that than be dead.

  “What the hell is going on?” Clements shouted from the porch.

  “Oh my, Audrey, are you all right?” Anita crouched by my side, her hand on my back, giving me icy chills. It was actually quite soothing, considering my burning lungs.

  “She attacked me!” Mills spat dirt from his mouth, and I grunted in satisfaction. Despite being clumsy, it seems I had a pretty good aim after all.

  “She attacked you?” I watched warily as Clements stepped down from the porch and headed towards Mills, grabbing him by the arm and helping him to his feet. There was an egg-shaped lump on his forehead, and blood matted his hair where I’d beamed him with the rock. The front of his uniform was covered in dirt.

  Ben stood protectively in front of me while the two men conferred. My ears were still ringing, but I thought I heard Clements say, “you’re on your own with this one.”

  “Galloway’s here,” Ben said over his shoulder. Sure enough, I made out the sound of an approaching car. Not sure my legs would hold me yet, I moved onto my butt and sat, hands dangling from my knees, head bent as I concentrated on breathing. In and out. In and out. Once I’d caught my breath, I clambered to my feet. I stood, hands-on-hips, watching as the two police officers warily eyeballed Galloway as he approached.

  “What’s going on?” He demanded, eyeing Mills' disheveled state. Clements took a step back and raised his hands in the air, physically and metaphorically distancing himself from Mills. Mills’ eyes shifted to me, and Galloway turned to look.

  “Audrey?” His long legs ate up the ground, and in two seconds flat, he was in front of me, big hands cupping my face and tilting my head up for a thorough inspection. I could only imagine I had a matching red mark on my forehead from the headbutt, and my T-shirt was torn. Galloway released me. Taking a step back, he looked me up and down. I stood and waited.

  “Don’t freak out,” I warned him, knowing the conclusions he was coming too. “You need to do this by the book for it to stick. And we must make it stick, okay?”

  His jaw worked, but no words came out. There was a distinct tremble in his hands when he rea
ched for mine, but rather than comforting me, he examined my nails. I almost gagged when I saw what was under them. Flesh. Mills flesh. Under my nails. I didn’t remember scratching him, but apparently, I had, maybe when I was clawing at his wrists.

  Anita and Ben had fallen silent, gathering in close, closing ranks against Mills, who was most likely realizing how very screwed he was. Galloway’s eyes were focused on my neck. “Does it hurt?” His voice came out like he’d been chewing gravel. I reached a hand to my neck reflexively. The skin was tender to touch, no doubt bruised from where Mills had tried to strangle me.

  “It’s fine.” I lied. “Galloway,” I warned, seeing the murderous gleam in his eyes. “Kade.” I tried again, using his first name. “Do not lose your shit. I need you to keep your shit together. Otherwise, I just might lose my shit, and then we really will be in the shit.”

  Ben snorted. “Eloquent, Fitz.”

  “I’m doing my best.” He ground out, voice low so only I could hear. “I just need a minute; otherwise, I will pulverize that bastard. He deserves worse.”

  I nodded, reached out, and slid my arms around his waist and hugged him. His arms wrapped around me, returning the embrace. “He’ll get worse. He crossed the line today, and I’m the physical evidence of that. I’m sure I heard Clements say he’s on his own with this one.”

  “Did he witness it?”

  I shook my head. “He was inside. I’m assuming you called? It sent Mills into a rage. He came storming outside, straight for me, told me he was sick of me interfering, grabbed my T-shirt, and lifted me off the ground. I head-butted him.” Galloway sniggered at that part. “But I lost my footing when he released me, and I guess he took advantage of that for the next thing I knew he was sitting on me, strangling me.” I squeezed Galloway’s waist tight when I felt his muscles shift and tense, knew he wanted nothing more than to beat the ever-living snot out of Mills.

  “I’m okay, I promise,” I reassured him. “We need to remember what we’re here for. Anita Finley is dead, and I’m pretty sure she was murdered.”