Ghost Squad: A Rest in Peace Crime Story, #1

By Bob Moats

Detroit Homicide Detective Russ Baker has been sent to work the Cold Case Division due to a screw-up he committed on a case. He was all alone in the basement office until he was visited by an unlikely partner. A dead former detective who was now an annoying ghost. Would the ghost help him solve the cold cases allowing the murdered victims to go on to the hereafter? Russ and his ghost partner solve a few cases bringing him attention to the brass, and he is given a chance to make good by solving a serial murder case. Together Russ and his ghost finally track down the killer in a surprising confrontation. Murder, mayhem, humor, ghosts galore, sexy women and lots of fun are in store in this paranormal ghost crime story by Bob Moats. This book is a novella.

KIRKUS REVIEW

A homicide detective in the cold case division gets an edge when the ghost of a cop offers his assistance in Moats’ (Eulogy for Murder, 2016, etc.) lighthearted thriller.

After Detroit detective Russ Baker fails to thwart a ring of murderous thieves, he gets a demotion that puts him down in a basement full of cold case files. He’s all alone down there until he meets Detective Wesley “Wes” Loomis, who’s now a ghost after his corrupt partner shot him dead. Wes says that a man from “the dark place”—which he surmises is somewhere between heaven and hell—has enlisted him to help Russ. He can read minds and converse with other ghosts, which proves to be beneficial for closing old cases (and allowing lingering spirits to move on). Of course, Russ has to keep his new partner a secret because no one else can see or hear him, so he attributes the sudden breaks in unsolved cases to an unnamed source. Russ’ success so impresses his captain that he gives the detective an open case involving four murdered women, the victims of a probable serial killer. Preventing a fifth killing, however, won’t be easy, as Wes inexplicably can’t contact the victims’ spirits. Moats’ short, often jaunty tale has very few scenes of violence or instances of profanity. Humor, however, is in abundance; for example, Russ’ discussions with Wes often seem to others like he’s talking to himself. At other times, Russ worries about Wes’ persistent presence, especially when a woman invites herself to his house. There’s little to the actual mystery, though; pinpointing the guilty party doesn’t take long, and even Russ, as the narrator, acknowledges that Wes does most of the heavy lifting. Also, some descriptions are overly sparse; at one point, for example, the partners drop in on a suspect businessman who’s described only as a man “seated at his large desk.”

Delightful, ghostly interactions help this novel transcend its bare-bones plot. - Kirkus Review

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bob Moats
• Release date: Jan 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524213459

Bob Moats

Detroit area resident, Bob Moats, has been writing short stories and plays for as long as he can remember. He has lost most of his original stories, typed or handwritten, in the numerous moves he has made from his hometown of Fraser, Michigan to Northern Michigan, to Las Vegas and back to Fraser, where he now lives. Moats became one of the causalities of unemployment a year ago, and had time on his hands to finally pursue a life long dream of writing a full blown crime novel. Thus was born the first book, "Classmate Murders".What followed was a series of seven books starting with "The Classmate Murders" which introduces the main character, Jim Richards, who has to admit he has become a senior citizen, reluctantly. Richards, one day, receives an email from a childhood sweetheart asking for his help, but by the time he reaches her, she has been murdered. His life turns around and he is pulled into numerous murders of women from his high school who he hasn't seen in forty years. Along with a friend of his, Buck, a big, mustached biker, they go off to track down the killer before he can get to one former classmate, Penny Wickens, a TV talk show host who Jim has just fallen for while protecting her. The killer is also murdering the women right out from under police protection, driving homicide detective Will Trapper crazy, and he slowly depends on Jim to help. There's humor, suspense, wild chases across suburban Detroit with cops, classic cars and motorcycle clubs; murder, mayhem, a good amount of romance and a twist ending.Jim and his crime fighters, continue in the other books, traveling to Las Vegas twice, back to Detroit and out to New York to solve murders involving dominatrix; mistresses; Bridezillas; magic and strip clubs.Book titles: Classmate Murders; Vegas Showgirl Murders; Dominatrix Murders; Mistress Murders; Bridezilla Murders; Magic Murders; Strip Club Murders and Made-for-TV Murders.

Book preview

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NO PART OF THIS BOOK may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

THIS IS A WORK OF PURE fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

FOR INFORMATION AND address:

Magic 1 Productions

P.O. Box 524, Fraser MI 48026-0524

Website: http://murdernovels.com

COVER DESIGN BY BOB Moats

Stock photo from Fotosearch.com

EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS to:

TO SUSAN HAUGHTON, for editing my chapters.

To the proof readers, Amy Morningstar, Cindy Valstad, and Al Norris for proofing the final copy and hopefully catching all those annoying little errors that slip through.

To Russ Holthaus, a police officer, who made sure my characters didn't violate any laws.

To my ARC readers for their comments, Beth Rosen, Pamela Cooke Malone-O'Brien, Carolyn Linington, Lisa Keller, and Debbie Carter. I thank you.

Thank you to all the people who purchased this book. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it for my faithful readers.

THE BOB MOATS FAMILY of Readers is listed in the back of the book.

Ghost Squad

Chapter 1

I LAY IN MY BED, FRUSTRATED by my life so far. I screwed up on a case and I was demoted as a Detroit homicide detective to working the cold case files. I wasn't happy about it, and I didn't even have a helper. I was all alone in the basement office with tons of case files of dead people for whom we never solved their murders. I was all alone to do the job, until he showed up.

At 11:35, he appeared in my bedroom. I didn't ask for him but he was there. I thought I was dreaming but it was so real. He looked like a ghost.

Hey, Rusty, how's it going, pal? he said. Actually he didn't say it. I heard him in my head. I just lay in bed watching him float over me and wanting him to go away.

That's not nice. Here I come to give you a hand and you want me to go away.

That worried me, could he read my mind?

Yep, I can do a lot of things. Mind reading is one of them. Unfortunately there's a lot of things I can't do, now that I'm on a spiritual plane of existence, the ghost said. Like sex, I really miss that. I also miss a good hot dog from Tiger Stadium. And there's no TV in there, I've lost track of all my favorite shows. Hey, maybe this is hell.

Shut up and go away, I need my sleep. I don't believe in you, you're a dream. I pulled the pillow over my head and repeated loudly, Go away.

Okay, pal, sleep tight. I'll be back. I'm not going away, you're stuck with me.

I listened for him to say something again. I heard nothing so I moved the pillow off my head and looked around my room. I didn't see him anywhere, so it had to be a dream. A realistic dream, but a dream never-the-less.

I rolled over, got comfortable and tried to sleep. I guess I finally did nod off since my alarm clock blasted me out of my sleep. I rolled out of the bed and looked around the room. I didn't see any slime flowing down the walls or green ghosts, so I guess it was a dream.

I went into the bathroom and started to shave. My face in the mirror was suddenly replaced by an old ugly face and it smiled at me. I jumped away from the mirror and watched the face laughing.

Get out of my mirror, I yelled at the apparition.

What's the matter, Bunky? I'm here to help you, and you want me to go away. That's not very nice. You haven't even given me a chance to prove myself. I know that you've been moved down into the basement at the precinct to the Cold Case division. I know a lot of the dead bodies in the cold case files. I can help you solve lots of cases.

I looked at him in the mirror and sighed. Why are you bothering me? There are lots of cops out there you could bother.

Geez, pal, I don't know why. The guy in the dark place told me to help you until you found what you are looking for.

What dark place? Where's that? And what am I looking for? I was starting to babble now.

Oh, I have no idea where the dark place is. I always thought that heaven was pretty with clouds floating around, but this place is dark. I don't think it's hell, there was no fire or some evil guy with horns. Just some strange person with a book that he was looking in and said I had to go back to earth and help you. I didn't ask for this, so don't flatter yourself.

I'm not flattered, I'm annoyed. I want to talk to this guy with the book and find out why you're here with me?

Hey, Binky, I can't just call the guy to appear when I want. He's in charge and doesn't answer to me. But if I see him I'll give him your message.

How did you know I was moved down to the Cold Case division?

You were being reprimanded, and it was a demotion. I know a lot. Your mind is an open book.

Stop getting into my mind. I don't like that. What did you mean when you said you knew a lot of dead people from cold cases?

Just that. I have access to a lot of people floating around that have been murdered or committed suicide. You and I can be a powerful team.

So what makes you such an expert on crime solving? I asked while sitting on the closed toilet.

He puffed up his chest and said, sounding official, Detective First Class Wesley Loomis. Precinct 9-5, Detroit Homicide. DOA after being shot by my own partner, a corrupt cop at that.

Detective? What happened to your partner?

Oh, I heard he was shot by a drug dealer that he was skimming off of. They don't like cops taking their money.

Do you ever see him floating around your spiritual plane?

No, I haven't. I'm not sure where he is, but he's not in my neighborhood. Which is fine with me. I may be a disembodied dead man, but I'll tear him a new ass if I find him.

Good for you, I said, not believing I was talking to a ghost.

Yes, I'm a ghost. But to you, I'm your new partner.

Great, that's just what I don't want. A ghost who can read my thoughts.

Okay, I'll respect your privacy and not read your mind any more. Is that good with you, Bunky?

I guess so. I only have your word for it. What's the word worth from a ghost nowadays? You're dead, so I can't sue you for breach of promise.

As the word of a former police detective like yourself, I promise.

That's something else I have to deal with. How do I explain you to the men in my precinct?

Why do you have to? They can't see me, only you. Besides, I can read their minds and keep you up on what they think. It will be a hoot.

Hoot? What century did you grow up in?

Hey, I may be old but I do keep up on modern customs. I even know what LOL means.

Just how long have you been dead?

Uh, three years.

Three years, and they are now just letting you become my unwanted partner?

I was still getting used to being dead.

Which tells me you gave them a lot of problems.

Okay, so I didn't accept my death so easily. Would you?

I guess not. So what is your mission with me? What did they tell you?

Well, I am to stick by you and help you solve a bunch of cold case murders so the dead can go to wherever they go and rest.

So, all these dead are waiting to cross over, but only if you can help me close their cases? Is that what you're saying?

Something like that. I got very sketchy orders from the man with the book.

Yeah, I'd really like to talk to him.

Not unless you're dead. I don't think you'd want that.

I thought about what he said. No, I like living. So you talk to him for me, can you do that?

I'll see. He's a busy man, or woman, I'm not sure what he or she is.

Now you're confusing me. Don't you know?

"Well he looks like a man but he also looks like a woman. Hard to tell and I wasn't going