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

by Jane Hinchey

  “But did you find the painting? The Concert one?” The one worth two hundred million dollars. I couldn’t comprehend that amount of money. While I’d been waiting, I’d puzzled over why it had been in the attic of Dudley Kelsh’s farmhouse, of all places. So far, the only theory I’d come up with was that Dudley Kelsh had been a thief. What didn’t make sense was why he hadn’t sold the stolen painting? Why live in a run-down old farmhouse when you have a painting worth millions at your disposal?

  “Sure did.” Galloway grinned, reaching out and squeezing my knee. “Thanks to your sister-in-law.”

  “Yay.” I raised my fist in a lackluster cheer. Go, Amanda.

  “This is going to attract a lot of media attention.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m going to be tied up at the station for a while.”

  “That’s okay.” I didn’t expect anything less. We’d pulled up outside my place, and Galloway kept the engine idling. “Oh. Right. Drop and roll.” I opened my door, preparing to leave.

  “Sorry.” His eyes pleaded with me to understand. It rankled that he felt the need to apologize, and I turned back to face him, eyes blazing. “Don’t ever apologize for doing your job.”

  He reared back, not so much at my words, but I suspect the delivery. I sucked in a breath and slowly released it. “I’m not mad. Honest. But… I do need to pee, so I can’t stand here chit-chatting with you. And you have an art thief to go interrogate.”

  “If I don’t see you before, good luck with your exam tomorrow!”

  I waved thanks and slammed the door shut, hurrying up to my front door, keys already in hand. I hadn’t been lying when I said I needed to pee. The house was dark, and I flipped on the lights, punched in the code on the alarm, then hurried to the bathroom. Through the door, I could hear Ben talking with Thor and smiled.

  “Now what?” Ben asked as soon as I finished in the bathroom, while Thor was the usual, “my food bowl is empty.”

  Scooping Thor up into my arms, I snuggled my face into his fur, enjoying the rumble of his purr as I carried him to his food bowl, which was most assuredly, not empty. Putting him on the floor, I rearranged the kibble into a neat pile and chuckled when he pushed my hand out of the way to scoff down the crunchy treats.

  “Right,” I said to Ben, dusting off my hands. “We’ve got work to do.”

  “Right on!” Ben bounced from one foot to the other, hyped. “What are you thinking? That Keagan killed Anita because of the painting? Maybe she suspected something was up?”

  “No.” I chewed on a nail, thinking. “It doesn’t make sense.” Hightailing it to the whiteboard in my office, I picked up a marker and wrote Anita’s name on the board. Ben leaned back against the desk and watched.

  “Anita’s food was spiked, which tells me her death was premeditated. It took planning. And there were no guarantees Anita would even eat the contaminated noodle cup. And if she did, when. It could have been a couple of days before she got to the contaminated one, if at all.”

  “That doesn’t mean Keagan couldn’t have done it.”

  “True, but again, why? We already know from Anita herself that she had no clue the painting was valuable. And while I didn’t get a look at Keagan’s home studio, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d made a copy of the original painting, a knock off he could give back to Anita so she could hang it at the museum or historical society. He didn’t need to kill her to keep her off his back.”

  “You’re saying Keagan Dunn is guilty of art fraud and possession of stolen goods, but not murder.”

  “Yes.” I turned my attention back to the whiteboard and wrote Noreen Bellamy’s name. “I think Noreen’s been cooking the books. I got access to Finley Construction accounts, and it looks to me like she’s been embezzling.”

  “Can you prove it was her? Maybe it was Logan? Or even Tyler.”

  “Noreen is Logan’s bookkeeper.”

  “That doesn’t make her guilty.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Now you’re just being argumentative.” I put a question mark beneath Noreen’s name. “Finley Constructions isn’t her only client. She’s also the treasurer for the historical society.”

  “You think she’s embezzling from them too?”

  “From what I can tell, the money started going missing from Logan’s account six months ago, small amounts spread out over numerous transactions. What’s to say she hasn’t been doing that with all her clients? A few hundred here, a few hundred there?”

  “But Noreen doesn’t appear to have been on any big spending sprees. No flashy clothes, no fancy car.”

  “That we’ve seen. Maybe Anita asked to see the books for the society, and Noreen panicked and killed her.”

  “It’s possible.” Ben conceded.

  “Keagan and Noreen were at the museum that morning. She could have ducked into the society and laced the noodle cup.”

  “So could Keagan.” Ben pointed out.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Basically, our two suspects are each other’s alibi.” I snapped my fingers. “Maybe they’re in it together?”

  “Doubtful. What would Keagan need with a few thousand dollars embezzled from Noreen’s clients when he had a painting worth a fortune in his possession? One he knew he could shift on the black market, judging by the counterfeit setup he had going on at his house.”

  “You’re right.” I stepped back and surveyed the whiteboard. Two names. Both with motive and opportunity.

  “The way Anita was killed,” Ben moved into my line of sight to stare at the board, “leans more towards a female killer than a male. Women tend to adopt the poison method.”

  “But she wasn’t poisoned. Although lacing her food with the one thing she is deadly allergic to is as good as.” I nodded. “Fair point. Plus, I’m not liking Keagan for this. If he’s into black-market arts goods and nefarious schemes, he’d probably have shot her if she became a problem. Or got someone else to.”

  “Agreed.”

  I put a line through Keagan’s name. He was not our killer.

  “Which leaves Noreen. I want to get a look at the society’s books. Noreen doesn’t know the police got a warrant for Finley’s finances, so she doesn’t know we know what she’s been doing.”

  “What about Logan?” Ben asked.

  “What about him?”

  “He’s not on the board.” He cocked his head at the whiteboard in front of us.

  “You think he should be?”

  “Anita said it herself that he’d been acting strangely. Secretive.”

  “Yes, but I think I know why.” I tapped Noreen’s name. “His business was in trouble. He started Finley Constructions twenty-two years ago, he’s a proud man who didn’t want to bother his wife with the fact that he owed contractors and suppliers money he doesn’t have. Money that Noreen stole.”

  “You’re assuming that’s what had him acting strangely.” Ben crossed his arms and frowned at me. “Anita told me she has a life insurance policy. That money would bail him out of his financial troubles.”

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth. “True,” I added his name to the board.

  “Something else is puzzling me.” I tapped the whiteboard with the marker. “The missing EpiPen. And the necklace.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still caught up on that necklace.” Ben groaned.

  “Because it’s a mystery! It’s what Anita hired me for. It has to be involved with all of this, I do not buy that it just disappeared all on its own. And we have Anita’s own account—she didn’t wear it. She got it out ready to wear but never took it out of the box. Next thing you know, the box and necklace are gone.”

  I yawned, the whiteboard blurring as I studied the names.

  “You look beat,” Ben said. “And it’s late. Why not get some rest and start afresh in the morning?”

  He was right. I couldn’t do anything about the historical society’s books tonight, and Galloway would be tied up at the station for hours. Time for some shuteye, finding
the killer would have to wait until tomorrow.

  12

  Because I spent the weekend hunting a killer and not grocery shopping as I’d intended, my cupboards were bare come Monday morning. Which is why I found myself at the Firefly Bay Hotel for breakfast. And, I admit, there are plenty of choices when it came to dining out in Firefly Bay. Still, I had another reason for currently sitting in their restaurant waiting for my Spanish omelet. Lacey Stevens.

  It had come to me last night as I was dozing off. Lacey Stevens and her odd behavior. She hadn’t turned up for cleaning duty at the museum Saturday morning, she’d hung around to eavesdrop later on at the Finley’s house. Despite only living in Firefly Bay for a few months, in that time she’d become Anita’s BFF and had insinuated herself very comfortably into Anita’s life.

  Not that any of that was wrong. Or made her a killer. But I was curious. Taking a sip of the amazingly good cup of coffee the waitress had delivered I pulled out my phone and pretended I was on a call so that I could talk to Ben who was sitting opposite me, or rather, hovering in the middle of the table because the chair wasn’t pulled out.

  “After this, I’m heading to the historical society to look at their accounts,” I said into the phone.

  “I know Galloway asked you to consult on the accounting thing, specifically the warrant for the Finley accounts. Does it extend to the historical society?”

  “No. But that’s not going to stop me. I just need a quick look. If my suspicions are correct,” I paused and glanced around, making sure no one could overhear me, “then Noreen is our money thief.”

  “And if the books aren’t cooked?”

  I frowned. I’d thought of that too and hadn’t liked the answer. “Then suspicion is back on Logan. Or Tyler. I just don’t understand why Logan would steal from himself. If he needed money from the business, he could just take it, he didn’t need to hide it.”

  “That theory then lends itself to Tyler who’s doing the skimming.” Ben pointed out.

  I sighed. “I know.” It wasn’t a scenario I relished, but if I could clear Noreen, then it was Tyler I’d be looking at next.

  “Speaking of…” Ben pointed across the dining room, and I turned my head to look. There stood Lacey and Tyler, arguing.

  “Go over there!” I hissed. “Find out what that’s all about.”

  Putting my phone down on the table, I watched with burning curiosity. Tyler’s hands were clenched into fists as if angry, yet his face was a picture of anguish. Lacey seemed indifferent, her hand signals cutting him off. She clearly wasn’t interested in what he had to say. As if sensing me watching, her head snapped around, and our eyes collided. She stared me down for a few seconds before turning her attention back to Tyler.

  Whatever she said crushed him. His shoulders slumped like a deflated balloon, and his chin lowered to his chest. Lacey spun on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen. Tyler shuffled toward the front doors, head down, not noticing anything around him. Ben returned, and I picked up my phone again.

  “Well?” I prompted.

  “He was saying something about her giving it back. And that he shouldn’t have given it to her in the first place, it was a mistake.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said it wasn’t going to happen, and he needed to get over himself.”

  “He seemed really upset.”

  “He was. I thought he was going to cry… but… get this. He issued her some sort of ultimatum. To return whatever it was, or they were through.”

  “Through?” I pounced on the word. “As in? They’re having a relationship?” I blanched. Lacey was old enough to be his mom!

  “It looked and sounded that way.” Ben nodded.

  “And what did Lacey say about that? The ultimatum?”

  “She said, whatever, and walked away.”

  Through the front windows of the restaurant, I caught sight of Tyler, climbing into the Finley Constructions truck. Slamming his fist on the steering wheel, he glared out the windshield before starting the engine and roaring off, tires squealing.

  “What if…” I played with the salt shaker on the table, spinning it until it fell over, and salt spilled onto the tablecloth. Hastily I righted it. “What if the thing that Tyler wants back is his mom’s necklace?”

  “Not a silly suggestion.” Ben nodded. Spotting the waitress heading my way with my omelet, he moved aside. “I’m going to find Anita, see what we can dig up. And Audrey? Don’t forget to set an alarm for your exam.”

  Shoot. I grabbed my phone and dutifully set an alarm. It helped that I had a case to work on keeping my nerves at bay, but the downside of having a case to work on was that I’d get so involved in it I’d lose track of time. My exam was at two, at the Council offices. If I missed it, I’d have to pay the fee all over again, not to mention re-schedule.

  “Thank you.” I smiled at the waitress as she slid a steaming plate in front of me.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with today?” She asked.

  “No, thanks. I’m good.” I smiled again and waited until she walked away before picking up my cutlery and digging in. Mmmmm. Delicious. My eyes rolled in my head as the cheesy goodness melted on my tongue. This was exactly what I needed. Refuel with a good meal, excellent coffee, then it was time to dig the dirt on Noreen Bellamy.

  I lingered at the restaurant for another cup of coffee, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lacey, quiz her on her relationship with Tyler, but she remained in the kitchen, even when I sent word via the waitress of “my compliments to the chef.”

  Unable to dawdle any longer, I left a tip and hurried out to my car, just in time to take a call from my mom. Connecting it to Bluetooth, I answered as I drove.

  “Hi, Mom, what’s up?” I figured she was calling to gossip about Laura and Brad and the baby.

  “Kade is on the news.” She surprised me by saying.

  “He is?”

  “Yes. They’re saying that Keagan Dunn, the chap who owns that boutique art gallery next door to the museum, has been arrested for art fraud and receiving stolen goods.”

  “Ah, yeah. That.” Galloway had warned me that the media would be all over it, I just hadn’t expected the news to hit so soon.

  “You knew?” Mom squawked.

  “Yes, I did. But I can’t talk about it, Mom.” I warned her. “It’s a police investigation, not a PI thing.”

  “Okay fine.” She huffed. Then, “last night went well, didn’t it? And fantastic news about the baby!”

  The next five minutes were spent listening to Mom plan out the baby’s arrival, baby-sitting duties for Isabelle when Laura went into labor, and what they’d need for the nursery. Pulling into the parking lot of the historical society, I parked beneath a tree.

  “Mom, Laura’s got months to go before the baby arrives. There’s plenty of time.”

  “I know, love. It’s just exciting.”

  I smiled. “You’re right. It is. Look, Mom, I’ve arrived at where I need to be, so I’ve gotta go.”

  “Good luck with your exam today, love, I’ll be thinking of you. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Mom. And thanks. Bye.”

  Retrieving my phone from its cradle, I hung up then surveyed the lot. No cars other than my own, and one canary yellow mobility scooter was parked near the front door of the combined historical society slash museum. I was reasonably sure Noreen drove a Honda Civic, white, of which there was no sign.

  The front door to the society was unlocked, so I pushed it open and stepped inside. Like Saturday morning, it was chilly and smelled somewhat stale, but I could hear a radio playing, so I followed the sound until I found Mary Wilson, the society’s secretary, in a tiny office not dissimilar to Anita’s.

  “Hey,” I knocked on the open door, and she gasped. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” I smiled by way of apology.

  She returned the smile and turned the radio down. “Sorry, I like to play it loud when I’m here alone—it can get a littl
e spooky.”

  I nodded. “I bet.”

  “Audrey, isn’t it? You were here Friday night? Anita said something about helping with the Kelsh estate?” Before I could respond, she continued. “What terrible news about Anita! Dead! It’s just awful. I can’t imagine what the society will do without her. And then there’s this business with Keagan.” Her brows pulled low, as did her voice. “Whatever was he up to? Art fraud the news said. And receiving stolen goods. I wonder what that was all about?”

  “I—”

  “I’m getting ready to call an emergency meeting. With the president and vice-president roles both empty, we need to fill those positions ASAP.”

  I bit my lip to stop myself from telling her they may need a new treasurer as well.

  “Are you interested in the position, Mary?” I asked instead.

  “Who me?” Her hand fluttered to her neck, fingers playing with the gold cross hanging there. “Well.” She cleared her throat. “If the rest of the committee nominates me, I guess I could consider it.”

  “I’m sure you’d make a wonderful president.” I smiled. “So, I, uh, dropped in to see if it was okay if I took a look at where Anita was up to with the Kelsh estate? Since we didn’t get to work on it together because she… you know…”

  “Oh! Of course! I’m sure that will be fine. Follow me.” She bustled out of her office as fast as her arthritic knees would allow, and I fell into step beside her. I thought we were going to Anita’s office, but she stopped before we reached it and unlocked a different door. Swinging it open, she pointed at a windowless room housing one table, one chair, and a computer.

  “This is our IT room.” She declared with dramatic flair. “We only have one computer, and since everyone wanted access to it, we decided it was best if it had its own office.”

  “Right.” I nodded. “No network, then?”

  “No budget.” She sniffed. “Anita was working towards us getting our own server and each having our own networked computers, but alas, the bank balance seemed to be continually falling, despite Anita’s fundraising efforts.”