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

by Jane Hinchey

  Flicking on the light, Mary ushered me inside. “Password is History and number one. I don’t know much about Anita’s files on the Kelsh estate, but there’s a folder on the desktop marked President. I suggest you look in there.”

  “Thanks, Mary. I won’t be long, I’ll just print out where Anita was up to with the cataloging, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Take your time, love. Noreen won’t be in for another hour, she does the accounts every Monday morning.”

  “She does the accounts here? Not from home?”

  “She says it gets her out of the house, coming here. It helps me out as well since she picks up the mail on the way.”

  Good to know. “The computer will be free by then,” I assured her before pulling out the chair and sitting down. I waited until she’d shuffled off down the hallway before turning the computer on. While it was booting up, I pulled an empty USB out of my bag and sat it by the keyboard. One thing I knew about Noreen Bellamy was she liked to use spreadsheets over an accounting software package, which made what I had to do that much easier.

  Just like Mary had told me, there was a folder on the desktop with each of the member’s positions. Shoving the USB in, I copied the entire contents of Anita’s folder, then opened Noreen’s treasurer folder. Inside the main folder was a bunch of sub-folders sorted by year. I copied the entire contents of the current year over to the storage device.

  While the computer was busy copying all the files, I opened Anita’s folder and copied the contents over to the USB drive as well, before searching for the Kelsh estate file. As predicted, Anita had a spreadsheet on the contents of the Kelsh estate, her attempt at cataloging, and I opened it up and hit print. Mary didn’t need to know I’d copied all the files I needed. Since the Kelsh catalog was the only one I’d opened, anyone using the computer after me, aka Noreen, wouldn’t know I’d been in her files.

  As soon as the USB stopped flashing, I ejected it and dropped it in my bag, then shut the computer down and scooped up the spreadsheet from the printer.

  “All done, Mary!” I stopped in the doorway of Mary’s office and waved the printout at her. “Thank you.”

  “That’s okay, love. Thank you for helping. The society appreciates it. I don’t suppose you’re interested in joining the committee? We have a couple of vacancies.”

  “I’ll think about it.” I lied, giving her a wave and heading off down the hallway. Once I’ve found Anita’s killer and closed the case, my work with the society will be done.

  13

  Back home, I stood in front of the whiteboard and added Lacey Stevens as a suspect. “There’s more to you than meets the eye.”

  “Who me?” Thor yawned from his position on the corner of the desk.

  “No. Her.” I pointed to Lacey’s name. “Ben and I think she may be having an affair with Anita’s son.” Urgh, even saying the words out loud felt wrong. “And if that’s true, then she has a possible motive. And opportunity.” I recalled Anita telling me that as she’d driven away from the museum on Friday night, Lacey had stopped to take a call. She could easily have let herself back into the building and laced the noodle cup. “But why kill Anita?” I muttered to myself. “You came to town six months ago, became instant best friends with Anita… was that to get to her son? Was it all some sort of ruse?” I had more questions than I had answers.

  Thor laid down on the keyboard. “Riveting. Wake me up when it's lunchtime.”

  Scooping him up from the keyboard, I deposited him on the floor. “I need that, champ.” I had the historical society’s accounts to go over. Not to mention Anita’s files I’d taken on a whim. They may reveal something of interest.

  Sad to say it didn’t take me long to discover discrepancies in the society’s accounts. Similar to the Finley accounts, invoices had been overpaid. Not by much, but a little here and there soon adds up. What I didn’t have was the account number the extra funds were being diverted to. I’d need police assistance to access Noreen’s bank accounts, or I needed to confront the woman herself. But there was no doubt in my mind that Noreen Bellamy was stealing from her clients. Whether she’d killed Anita because of it was another matter.

  I put a call into Galloway. When he didn’t pick up, I left a message asking him to call me back, then snatched up my keys and headed back to the historical society, hoping to catch Noreen there.

  “Oh, sorry, love. You just missed her. She’s gone home for lunch, and then she’s off to Finley Constructions.” Mary told me, busy going through the pile of mail Noreen had brought with her. “You should have said you wanted to talk to her, and I would have passed on a message.”

  “Really? She’s going into Finley Constructions today?” I considered Mary, who was looking a little flushed as she busied herself with the mail, and somewhere along the way, she’d lost an earring.

  “I have to admit I was a little surprised too. But she said she had some work to finish.”

  “Thanks, Mary, I’ll try to catch her at home. She’s still on…?”

  “Kloeden Lane. Third on the right, can’t miss it, has a yellow door.”

  “Thanks.” With a wave, I hurried back to my car.

  Noreen was not at home, so I figured I’d find her at Finley Constructions. Thankfully, in the town the size of Firefly Bay, it only took mere minutes to get anywhere, so in seven minutes and twenty seconds, I was pulling into a construction yard on Turner Avenue. A high chain-link fence surrounded the property, but the two gates stood open, a chain with padlock dangling from one of them. Lumber was stacked inside a massive shed to my left, only the front of the shed was open, allowing easy access for the truck and forklift parked beside it. At the rear of the property, I could see mounds of what appeared to be gravel and sand and to my right, a shipping container that had been turned into an office.

  I knew this because it had a sign that said office hanging over the door. Parked beside the office was a white Honda Civic. Stopping beside it, I climbed out and approached, rapping my knuckles on the door as I opened it and stepped inside.

  “Audrey?”

  I blinked toward Noreen’s voice, my eyes adjusting from the brightness outside to the dim light in the office. “Hi, Noreen.” Blink. I could just make out her silhouette, and furniture was beginning to take shape. Once my vision had adjusted, I took a good look around. Logan had done a wonderful job of converting the shipping container. From inside, I wouldn’t have known at all. A desk sat at each end of the room, and behind one of them sat Noreen.

  “What are you doing here?” She asked.

  “How long have you been embezzling from your clients?” I blurted.

  Noreen blanched, the color draining from her face. “What?” She squeaked.

  “You heard me.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’ve been stealing from Finley Constructions and the historical society. And I bet if I were to take a look at the accounts of your other clients, I’d find some interesting anomalies there too.”

  Noreen busied herself with moving items around her desk. First, a calculator, from her left to her right, then a notebook which she closed, then opened again. She picked up a pencil, fumbled with it until it slipped from her fingers to clatter on the desk.

  “Is that why you killed Anita?” I asked when it seemed she wasn’t going to respond. “She found out, and you had to silence her?”

  “What! No. No, I didn’t hurt Anita, there’s no way I’d do anything to harm her!” Noreen protested, finally meeting my eyes.

  “Soooo, stealing from her isn’t hurting her?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “It wasn’t much. They could afford it.”

  “And that makes it okay?”

  Lowering her chin to her chest, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “Why? What made you decide to steal from the people who trusted you to look after their money? And the historical society? It’s a not-for-profit organization, how could you steal from them?”

  “I wanted to go on a cru
ise.” She whispered.

  I blinked in shock. “A cruise?”

  “Yes. A single’s cruise. I’m fifty years old and have never been married. It’s been years since I’ve even had a boyfriend. Even longer since I’ve had a holiday. Caring for Mom has been a financial drain. And then one night, I saw this ad for a mature age single’s cruise, and it was perfect!” Her voice became as animated as her hands as she started waving them around, describing the cruise she was prepared to steal for. “Sixteen nights. It departs Fort Lauderdale, and then we go to Jamaica, Costa Rica, Panama, Guatemala, Mexico, and San Francisco.”

  “And how much was this cruise?”

  “Three and a half thousand dollars.”

  I cocked my head. “But you’ve stolen over ten thousand from the Finley’s alone. More than enough to pay for the cruise. Why keep stealing?”

  She dropped her head. “It was just… easy. Incredibly easy. No one even noticed, so I just… kept on doing it.”

  “And where is the money now?”

  “In my bank account. I can give it back. I will give it back. Just don’t call the police. Please!”

  “Sorry, Noreen. They already know.” Well, not for sure, not one hundred percent confirmed, but as soon as Galloway called me back, then they’d know.

  She flopped back in her chair. “Are they coming? Now?”

  “Not yet. But here’s what I suggest. Turn yourself in. It’ll work in your favor.”

  “I guess.” She stood, reached down to pick up her handbag, and placed it on the desk while she pulled her coat from where it was draped over the back of her chair. The bag teetered on the edge of the desk then toppled over, the contents scattering across the floor.

  I squatted to gather them up when I saw what had rolled to a stop against my shoe. An EpiPen.

  “You have any allergies, Noreen?” I asked. She was still struggling her way into her coat.

  “No.”

  “So this EpiPen isn’t yours?”

  “What are you talking about?” She grunted, turning in a circle, trying to shove her arm in the sleeve of her coat, “I don’t have an EpiPen.”

  She finally got her coat on and then rounded the desk to see what I was looking at. She gasped in horror. “That’s not mine!”

  “It was in your bag.” I pointed to her bag that was on its side on the floor. Then peered closer. Just peeking out was a zip-lock bag. Reaching forward, I pinched the corner and tugged it until it spilled out onto the floor. Inside the zip-lock bag was a small brown bottle and a syringe. “What’s that?” I asked Noreen.

  She frowned and leaned down for a closer look. “I’ve no idea.”

  I did. I would bet my Keurig, and I don’t make that bet lightly, that inside the brown bottle was oyster sauce. And the syringe is what she’d used to administer the sauce to the noodle cup that ultimately killed Anita Finley.

  I was reaching for my phone when it rang, startling me. My fingers slipped, and the phone crashed to the floor, as I made a grab for it, my foot shot out and kicked it under the desk. I lunged forward, cracking my head on the edge of the desk, which in turn propelled me backward until I landed on my rear, one leg tucked awkwardly beneath me, the other stretched out straight.

  Noreen picked up my phone and handed it to me.

  “Hello?” I answered just before it went to message bank.

  “Everything okay?” Galloway asked. “You sound odd.”

  “Just the usual. Slipped when I went to answer the phone. Hang on.” I clambered to my feet, ignoring the twinge in my hip. “Thanks for calling back.”

  “Always.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and my heart warmed.

  “Um, so, I’m here with Noreen Bellamy. I have evidence that she’s been embezzling from other clients aside from Finley Constructions, and she’s admitted to it.”

  “Excellent work.”

  I preened at the praise. “There’s more. Her bag fell off the desk, and an EpiPen rolled out. I suspect it belongs to Anita Finley. And, there’s a zip-lock bag with a bottle and syringe inside. I haven’t opened it, but I’m willing to bet the bottle contains oyster sauce.”

  “You have been busy.”

  “I figured I’d bring her to you, save you sending a patrol car.” I moved across the office to study a calendar pinned to the wall, but when I glanced over my shoulder at Noreen, she wasn’t there. What the? Turning, I looked from one end of the converted shipping container to the other. She’d gone! How could she have gone? There were no other exits aside from the one and only door. That’s when I noticed it was slightly ajar. She’d snuck out while I was distracted on the phone.

  “Shit!” I cursed, flinging the door open and stepping outside just in time to hear Noreen’s car start. She spun the wheels, flinging gravel as she sped out of Finley Constructions, fishtailing out the gate.

  “Fitz?”

  “Sorry. Rookie mistake. I turned my back on her, and she took off.”

  “The evidence?”

  “Still here.” I retreated into the office where Noreen’s bag and its contents remained on the floor. The zip-lock bag and EpiPen were exactly where I’d left them. I could only assume her car keys had been in her coat pocket.

  “I’m on my way. I’ll put out an APB on Bellamy, she won’t get far.”

  I’d just hung up when Logan’s truck turned into the yard. He pulled up in front of the office, keeping the engine running while he rolled down his window, sitting next to him in the cab was Anita’s ghost. I shot a quick look her way before turning my attention back to Logan.

  “Audrey? Is everything okay? What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk with Noreen.”

  He glanced beyond me to the open door of the office, and then to the empty space where Noreen’s car had been parked. He raised his eyebrows as if to say well, where is she?

  “She took off. Logan, I hate to tell you this, but Noreen has been stealing from you. From what I can tell, just over ten thousand dollars has been embezzled from your account.”

  He blinked, then turned off the ignition. “Thank God.”

  “What?” Why would he say that? He was happy she’d been stealing from him. He looked at me with exhaustion pulling at his eyes. “I thought it was Tyler. I knew something was up with the accounts; I just didn’t know what. Or who.”

  “What makes you think it was Tyler?”

  “He’d been coming here out of hours. And he and Noreen share a desk. I wondered if he’d somehow gotten the passwords or something.”

  “Was that the secret you were keeping from Anita?”

  He jerked back in shock. “She knew?”

  Anita looked at him with so much love and compassion my heart hurt. “I wish he’d told me.” She said.

  “She knew you were keeping something from her. She just didn’t know what.”

  “I didn’t want to worry her. And I certainly didn’t want to accuse our son if it wasn’t him.”

  “But you thought it could have been him. Not Noreen?”

  “Noreen’s been managing the business finances for five years. I trust her. Trusted her. But my son had been acting odd lately.” He snorted. “Secretive. Like father like son, I guess.”

  Anita cocked her head. “That’s true. He was staying out late or leaving early in the morning, but I thought he was hanging with his friends. I didn’t know he’d been coming to the yard out of hours.”

  I chewed my lip, wondering how much I should tell him. Them. Anita seemed oblivious to what her son had been up to, which means Ben hadn’t told her. I did a quick reconnaissance of the area, searching for him, wondering why he wasn’t with Anita.

  Seeing the indecision on my face Logan opened the truck door, climbing out to stand in front of me. Anita followed. “Just tell me. Tell me everything. I’d rather know than not.”

  “I’ve got no proof…” I hesitated.

  “But you have a theory. Is this about who killed Anita?”

  “You found my killer?�
�� Anita asked eagerly.

  “I’m really not sure.” I glanced back at the office where the zip-lock bag and EpiPen were waiting. It sure looked like Noreen had killed Anita, and her fleeing backed that up, yet she’d seemed genuinely surprised those items were in her bag. And if she had killed Anita, wouldn’t you get rid of the evidence and not cart it around with you?

  “Audrey?” Logan prompted, snapping me out of my pondering.

  “Right, sorry. Yes, about Tyler. I have a suspicion he’s in a relationship with Lacey Stevens.”

  Logan staggered back as if I’d punched him in the face. “Tyler and… Lacey? But she’s…”

  “Forty-seven. And Tyler’s twenty. As I said, I have nothing to back that up at this stage.” I warned when I saw Logan’s fingers curl into fists. “But it may explain Tyler’s behavior. Sneaking around to be with her, trying not to get caught. All adds to the excitement.”

  “I warned Anita about becoming friends with her.” Logan kicked at the ground, frustration giving his voice a hard edge. “She’s bad news.”

  I risked a glance at Anita, who’d frozen in place, her face one of absolute shock.

  “Oh?” Intrigued, I leaned closer. Logan looked at me and nodded. “Oh yeah. When she first came to town, I was doing a job at the Hotel and ran into her.”

  “And?”

  “And she propositioned me. Said she could get staff rates on a room at the hotel. Invited me to join her.”

  My eyes rounded. I hadn’t expected that. “Did you tell Anita?”

  “Of course.”

  “And yet she became friends with a woman who’d made it blatantly clear that she fancied her husband.”

  Logan nodded, face grim. “Like I said, I warned her. But Anita is the forgiving sort. Was the forgiving sort. Lacey was new in town, and Anita felt bad that she didn’t know anyone or have any friends. So she took her under her wing.”

  “Did Lacey try anything again? With you?”

  He shook his head. “No, thank goodness. Seems she turned her attention to my son instead.”

  14