Ghost Mortem (Ghost Detective #1) - Jane Hinchey Page 0,14

you on the street that you had a business meeting. But that’s all you said.”

“Good. I don’t want you to have to lie, Audrey, but…”

“I know.” I half-smiled. “Best not mention I can see your ghost and talk to your cat.”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

Thor strolled forward, rubbing around my ankles. “To give credibility to your story, perhaps you should be holding me when the plod arrives?”

“Plod?”

“Police,” he explained.

“So you’re really…British?” I’d never considered cats had nationalities before.

“I’m a British Shorthair.” He sniffed. “What else would I be?”

“You speak very well for a cat,” I muttered, bending down to scoop him into my arms. God, he was heavy.

“I’ll stay here,” Ben offered. “Less chance of distracting you.”

“Okay.” I followed the trail back to the edge of the woods and Ben’s backyard. Just as I stepped out of the tree line, two officers rounded the side of the house. I bit my lip and remained silent while I waited for Sergeant Dwight Clements and Officer Ian Mills to reach me. Dressed in black pants and gray shirts with the Firefly Bay police shield stitched above the pocket on the left-hand side, they swaggered toward me.

I couldn’t believe my bad luck. These two were my least favorite members of the Firefly Bay police force. Ben’s ex-colleagues and—in my opinion—utterly useless.

Ian was in his early fifties, yet had never advanced beyond officer. No surprises there. He was an incompetent moron, and the sergeant he’d been paired with, despite being younger than him, was no better.

“Audrey,” Dwight boomed. “What’s this nonsense about a dead body?”

“Hardly nonsense.” I bristled. Thor had stiffened in my arms as soon as Dwight had spoken, his overly loud voice no doubt offensive to the cat’s ears.

“It’s okay,” I soothed, stroking Thor’s fur in reassurance. “It’s Ben. He’s dead.”

Ian rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes, as if I was some high strung female who’d overreacted to something she’d seen in the woods.

Thor must have sensed my outrage, because he sunk his claws into my shoulder. “Easy.” He meowed into my ear.

“It’s probably a deer,” Ian said to Dwight. Dwight’s eyes narrowed as he peered at me. “What happened to your arm?” he demanded.

“I fainted. Hit my elbow on the ground.” It still stung and I knew it was going to sting a whole lot worse when I cleaned it. No doubt I had dirt in it.

“Fainted,” he repeated.

“Yes,” I snapped. “As in, lost consciousness.”

“Why did you faint? Are you sick?” Ian asked.

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “I fainted because I just discovered the dead body of my best friend.” With one arm I clasped Thor to me in an awkward embrace and pointed towards the woods with the other. “In there. On the ground. Lots of blood.”

Ian sighed as if what I’d just told him couldn’t possibly be true.

“Don’t believe me? Come on, I’ll show you!” Spinning on my heel, I kept to the side of the drag marks that led directly to Ben’s body.

“See?” I stood to one side so they could see for themselves. “Ben Delaney. Dead. Not a deer and not my overactive imagination.”

“Put the cat down!” Ian suddenly demanded, making me jump. Thor dug his claws into my skin and launched out of my arms, equally startled by Ian’s sudden command. “You’re under arrest.”

6

“What’s this?” Detective Kade Galloway strode into the clearing, frowning at me. “Why is she cuffed?”

It was true. The morons had handcuffed my hands behind my back, arresting me for murder. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved Galloway was on the scene or worried even more incompetence was about to ensue.

“We arrested her.” Dwight nodded, chest puffed out as if he was extremely proud of his actions. I bit my lip to keep from speaking. I’d already had Ian whip out his baton and threaten me with it if I said another word. I’d merely been protesting my innocence, but after the way he’d brandished the baton as if he was looking for an excuse to bring it down against my leg—hard—I’d shut up. That’s how Galloway found us, ten minutes later. Me, backed up against a tree, and Ian hovering over me in a threatening manner.

“For?” Galloway asked, hands on hips. He wasn’t giving us his full attention, his eyes landing on Ben’s body and then surveying the rest of the small clearing where we stood.

“Well…murder,” Dwight sputtered, as if it were obvious.

“And what makes you think she killed him?”

“She knew where he was. His body. She