Ghost Mortem (Ghost Detective #1) - Jane Hinchey Page 0,35

well with someone else in the bed." It was a weak excuse. The truth was, I'd never been the cuddling type. Sex? Yes, I liked it well enough, but snuggling afterward and falling asleep in each others arms? No, thanks. I ignored the rest of the points he'd made. So what if he was right? It didn't matter because Galloway was not my boyfriend.

By the time I returned from the bathroom, a steaming mug of coffee was waiting for me. I slid onto the barstool next to him.

"Thank you." I nodded toward my cup, beyond relieved that I hadn't had to wrangle the complicated machine into submission.

"You're welcome. Do you always talk to yourself?" He took a sip of his brew, eyeballing me over the rim.

"Always." I shrugged. I knew he'd probably overheard me talking to Ben again at some point, no point in denying it.

"You were having quite the chat in the bathroom." Lucky for him he softened the words with a cute grin.

"I didn't think I was that loud." God, I hoped he hadn't heard what I'd actually said, and I frantically replayed the conversation with Ben in my mind to check for anything incriminating.

"Not at all. Just the murmur in the background."

I cleared my throat, studying the contents of my cup with great interest. "Yes. Well, just another one of my quirks."

"Ben didn't mention it. When talking about you," he clarified. "He said you were clumsy. And single."

"Pft. I didn't realize he needed to produce a dossier on me." The color was back in my cheeks; I could feel it burning like a sunburn.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about Ben. And offer you a deal," Galloway said, studying his cup.

"A deal?" I snorted. "I’m a suspect now that I've inherited all of this?" I waved my arm to indicate the room around us, narrowly missing hitting him. He instinctively ducked and I cringed. "Sorry," I muttered, mortified that I'd nearly smacked him in the face with the back of my hand.

He straightened and grinned at me. "You certainly know how to keep a guy on his toes!"

I heard Ben's muffled guffaw from behind me and narrowed my eyes in warning. Then Galloway's words penetrated. Was he flirting? I focused on him again. I couldn't tell.

"To answer your question, no, you're not a suspect," he assured me.

"Oh? Why not?" Oh my God Audrey, shut up! Quit while you're ahead girl.

"Your alibi checked out." He shrugged.

"My alibi?" I didn’t remember giving him one.

"The coroner put Ben's death between ten and eleven p.m. on Wednesday night. Multiple witnesses already put your whereabouts at the Crown & Anchor, and we have CCTV footage of you leaving after midnight."

"Ahhhh." I nodded. "That’s good then."

"Actually I dropped by because Ben was going to give me a file."

"A file? What, on one of his cases?" I'd seen Ben's cases and none of them were that interesting—not interesting enough that a police detective would want a copy.

"I can't say."

I peered at him incredulously. "You can't say? Then how do I know what it is you want? That's if I decide to give it to you, which I'm not convinced is the right course of action."

"I just need access to his computer—I'll find it myself."

I crossed my arms, shaking my head. "No way. Not going to happen."

"You don't know it yet, but you've got a problem," he said. I narrowed my eyes, praying he wasn't a dirty cop like some of his co-workers, because I was really worried that what he was going to say next would constitute blackmail.

Galloway continued. "In order for you to continue Ben's business, you're going to need a Private Investigators license."

"That's a thing?" I was surprised. I'd never really asked Ben about that side of things. I’d always figured that if you just decided you liked solving mysteries you'd hang out your shingle and boom, you're in business.

"It is. It was pretty simple for Ben. He automatically qualified since his years on the force counted toward the criteria. But you, on the other hand..." He drifted off, leaving me to fill in the blanks.

"I've got zero experience in law enforcement. Or investigative work. Okay, well I can fix that, what do I need to do?"

Galloway reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper and handed it to me. I read it, my heart sinking with each line. Not only did I have to go to PI school, I needed twelve hundred supervised work experience