“I could wash that for you?” Thor offered, drawing my attention to the talking cat.
My voice trembled when I finally blurted, “You can talk.”
“No,” Thor corrected. “Rather, you can understand me.”
“What are you saying? That I’m speaking cat?”
“Well, I’m not speaking human, that’s for sure.” Thor stood and arched his back, his front paws stretching out in front of him. “But I think the more pressing matter right now is my human.” Thor turned his head and stared at Ben’s body.
Struggling to my feet, I staggered over to Ben’s prone form. Blood soaked his shirt.
“I’d say a stab wound to the abdomen.” Ghost Ben bent and squinted at the tear in his shirt. “Possibly stabbed twice. I wouldn’t have died straight away. More likely bled out here.”
I swallowed, looking at the puddle of congealed blood beneath his body.
“Looks like,” I agreed with a croak. It was a lot of blood, and now that I was closer I could smell the coppery tang in the air. Pulling my phone from my back pocket I called the police.
“My friend is dead,” I said into the phone. Ben’s head snapped toward me. I eyeballed him. What? We had to do this, the police had to be involved, someone had murdered him, for God’s sake. After giving them Ben’s address I told them I’d meet them at the edge of the woods.
“Okay.” Ben sighed, acknowledging I was right. “Let’s hope they send someone decent. In the meantime, don’t forget what you told Mrs. Hill. That I asked you to swing by and feed Thor this morning. Remember, they will most likely check my phone records, so don’t say I called or texted. Say that I asked you in person when I left the Crown and Anchor last night. Say Thor didn’t come when you called him so you started looking for him and stumbled across the tracks in the dirt. And don’t tell them anything about the cases I was working.”
I snorted. “That’s easy. I don’t know anything about your cases. You mentioned when I bumped into 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 led us straight here! And she has blood on her,” Ian declared. I couldn’t contain the eye roll. My eyes were really getting a workout today.
“Correct me if I’m wrong…” Galloway’s voice dripped sarcasm. “But didn’t Miss Fitzgerald call it in? That she found her friend like this”—he waved a hand toward the body on the ground—“and immediately called us. And the blood on her appears to be her own—from that nasty-looking scrape on her arm. Does that sound like a murderer to you?”