Murder is a Premonition Best Served Cold (Piper Ashwell Psychic P.I. Book 5)

By Kelly Hashway

How do you have a premonition about something that’s already happened?

Psychic P.I. Piper Ashwell has struggled with cases before because she couldn’t see the future. But when she finally starts having some premonitions and they lead her to a cold case that’s been unsolved for years, she really starts doubting her abilities.

Piper is convinced what she saw hasn’t happened yet, and that can only mean one thing. The killer is back, and he’s claimed another victim. Can Piper find the missing girl and close the cold case once and for all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kelly Hashway
• Release date: Oct 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463756393

Kelly Hashway

Kelly Hashway fully admits to being one of the most accident-prone people on the planet, but luckily she gets to write about female sleuths who are much more coordinated than she is. Maybe it was growing up watching Murder, She Wrote that instilled a love of mystery, but she spends her days writing cozy mysteries. Kelly’s also a sucker for first love, which is why she writes romance under the pen name Ashelyn Drake. When she’s not writing, Kelly works as an editor and also as Mom, which she believes is a job title that deserves to be capitalized.

Book preview

Chapter One

I’m on autopilot as I drive to the office, still questioning what on earth happened this morning. Did I dream I was going to lose heat in my apartment, or did I actually have a premonition? Maybe it was both. Even though I’m in dire need of coffee, I open the door to my office, which is already unlocked, so I know either Dad or Detective Mitchell Brennan is here. I close my eyes and hope it’s Dad. I’m not ready to see Mitchell after… Why did he have to tell me he has feelings for me? I’m not even sure he really does. I think he’s confusing the closeness he feels to me because of what I can do and its relation to helping him understand his mother, who also happened to be psychic, with feelings of… I can’t even think it. Mitchell is supposed to be my partner when I assist the Weltunkin PD with cases and, on good days, my friend.

Good morning, pumpkin, Dad says as I finally push the door open. Did you just have a vision? He cocks his head at me, and I’m not surprised he thought that was what was happening to me. My eyes were closed—hoping I wouldn’t see Mitchell—and my right hand was on the door handle. All signs point to a vision.

I was lost in thought, I say, finally breathing easier now that I can see Mitchell isn’t in the office. I walk over to my desk and place my purse in the bottom drawer before removing my jacket and draping it over the back of my chair.

Dad’s still eyeing me like he knows something is up.

I sit down and spin my chair so I’m facing him at his much larger desk, despite the fact that this is my P.I. business. Something odd happened this morning, and I’m not sure what to make of it.

Okay, tell me what it was. He furrows his brow, his attention solely on me.

I think I might have—

Coffee and donuts are here, Mitchell says, walking right in.

I close my eyes and steady my breathing.

Piper? Dad asks.

I can hear Mitchell’s footsteps coming toward me, and the smell of my toasted almond coffee gets stronger as he places the drink carrier on my desk.

Is she having a vision? Mitchell asks my dad.

No, I say, finally opening my eyes but avoiding Mitchell’s gaze. I reach for the large to-go cup and take a big slug of the hot coffee. I cringe as it burns the roof of my mouth. I should have predicted that would happen. Anyone with half a brain would have.

What were you saying before, pumpkin? Dad’s voice is soft, like he’s trying to calm me.

I think I might have had a premonition this morning.

Dad’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth, but it’s Mitchell who speaks.

That’s great! He’s grinning like a Cheshire cat. Why don’t you look happy? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?

What did you see? Dad asks, thinking I predicted a murder or something equally horrific that would have me on edge.

I shake my head and hold my coffee cup between both my hands. It wasn’t anything important at all. I simply woke up, realized my apartment was freezing, and called Mr. Hall, who told me he was already aware of the issue and was working on it. Then he said the hot water was working, so I should take a warm shower and go to work because the heat would be fixed by the time I got home this evening. It all spills out of me in one breath.

Where does the premonition come in? Mitchell asks, taking the seat across from me and grabbing his own coffee.

That was the premonition. I got in the shower, and the water wasn’t warm at all. It was cold. That’s when I woke up, and everything I saw in the dream happened all over again.

If your heat isn’t fixed this evening, you and Jez are welcome to stay at my condo, Mitchell says.

Where is Jez? Dad asks.

I dropped her off at your place before coming into work this morning. Mom is watching her. I wasn’t about to leave my adorable golden retriever to freeze in that apartment. She’s smart enough to burrow under the covers, but at least at Mom and Dad’s house, Jez can play with Max, their little troublemaker of a dog.

Good thinking, Dad says. Your mother loves Jezebel, so I have no doubt she’ll spoil her rotten by the end of the day.

Back to your premonition, do you think this will be a regular thing now? Mitchell leans back in his chair, bringing his coffee to rest on his lap.

It was one vision of the future, and it wasn’t even anything significant. I’ve been trying to expand my abilities for months now. My talent lies in psychometry, the ability to read energy off objects, and it tends to focus on seeing the past and present. Still, I do sometimes just know things to be true with no explanation as to why or how. After my last case involved finding a kidnapper who happened to be a gifted clairvoyant, I wanted to see the future more than ever. But what good is seeing insignificant things that aren’t related to any cases I’m working?

Maybe you should take the day off, Dad says. All we have on our plate right now is a simple background check. I can handle it. You should go clear your head. He looks at Mitchell. Unless you’re here because you have a case for us.

Mitchell sits up straighter. Um, no. I…

He’s here to see me. Good Lord, could this get any more awkward?

I think that’s a great idea, Dad, I say, standing up and grabbing my jacket. I could use a break. I mean we just closed that case yesterday. I don’t want to overdo it. I take my purse from the drawer and start for the door.

I’ll walk you out. I have to head to the station anyway, Mitchell says.

Dad eyes us suspiciously. I guess I’ll see you later when you pick up Jezebel.

Yeah, see you then, I say.

Mitchell beats me to the door and opens it. I’m not sure where to go. Do I head for my car where he can corner me alone, or do I go to Marcia’s Nook where at least Marcia will be there to save me from a very awkward conversation? Marcia’s Nook it is. I turn toward the bookstore.

Hey, Mitchell says, grabbing my arm before I can reach for the door. Can we talk for a second?

He knows I’m not busy, so what excuse could I possibly give to avoid him right now? My mind races, coming up with a plan, and I have to stop myself from smiling when one forms. Actually, yeah. I have to tell you something, and I didn’t want to say it in front of my father.

Mitchell looks hopeful. Too hopeful. Want to sit down in the café? He opens the door to Marcia’s Nook for me. We already have our coffee, but we left the bag of donuts on my desk, so I walk right up to the bakery counter.

Good morning, you two, Marcia says. Don’t tell me you ate those donuts already and are back for more.

No, actually we left them with my dad. Could I get a piece of coffee crumb cake? I ask.

Mitchell holds up two fingers. Make that two.

I whip out my phone to pay before Mitchell gets any ideas that this might be a breakfast date. He gives me a look as he removes a five-dollar bill and places it in Marcia’s tip jar.

I’m going to have to hide that jar when you’re here, Detective. She gives him an admonishing look.

I, on the other hand, am shocked it was only a five-dollar bill. He’s left her fifties before.

Mitchell raises both hands, his coffee cup in his left. It’s the smallest bill I have on me.

She shakes her head as she hands us two plates with the coffee cakes on them.

How did you know we were staying? I ask her.

I just figured you closed a case yesterday, so what are the odds you’re off on a new one already?

In this town, pretty high actually. I don’t say that, though. I just smile and grab my plate before heading to a table far enough away from the bakery counter that Marcia won’t overhear us. She’d never intentionally eavesdrop.

I sit down, placing my purse on the empty chair beside me so Mitchell can’t sit there.

So, he says.

My brilliant plan involves what he thought he witnessed in my office when he arrived. You weren’t wrong back there when you thought I was having a vision. I just didn’t want to talk about it in front of my dad.

A new case? He forks a piece of his crumb cake.

No. I had another premonition.

His eyes widen. Piper, that’s great.

It is, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.

Why wouldn’t I like it? he asks before taking a bite.

It was about you. And me.

He waves his fork in the air, motioning I should go on.

I saw us getting into a huge fight.

What else is new? he jokes.

No, it’s not like that. We were…dating. God, even lying about it is tough.

He swallows hard and starts to choke, but he washes the crumb cake down with some coffee. Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that. Last night, you didn’t seem open to that idea.

Because I wasn’t. I’m even less open to it now, and I think you will be too when you hear this.

He puts down his fork and leans his arms on the table. What exactly did you see?

I take a deep breath before continuing. We broke up, and we stopped working cases together. After we made that decision, I had another premonition about all the people we wouldn’t be able to save because we weren’t going to be partners anymore. It was awful. I’m laying it on thick, looking down at the table, pretending to be distraught. Though the truth is, that would be a real possibility if we ever did date. I mean, Mitchell isn’t the relationship type. It would drive him insane. And my issues with being close to people wouldn’t allow me to be anything more than friends with someone.

Oh. Wow. I didn’t even think of something like that happening.

I knew he didn’t. I also know he loves his job more than anything. Just like I do. He’d never jeopardize it for something like this. I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll agree that we need to keep our relationship strictly professional.

Not strictly. I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we?

It’s taken a lot for me to call Mitchell my friend, but I can at least give him that. Of course.

He lets out a deep breath. Okay, well I really should get to the station. If you don’t mind, I’ll have Marcia wrap this up for me and I’ll head out.

Go right ahead, I say.

He gets up and brings his coffee cake to the bakery counter. I know he’s disappointed, but this is better than telling him the truth. I really don’t want to hurt him, and I can’t let him think there’s any chance for something happening between us in the future. I might not have had a premonition about us, but I can see that much is true.

Chapter Two

I don’t hear from Mitchell at all until he shows up at Tuesday night Ashwell family dinner. I think it’s the longest I’ve gone without seeing him in months.

Sorry I’m late, he says, walking to the dining room table and taking his seat.

Mom retakes her seat, placing her napkin in her lap. No problem at all. Were you working a case?

Yeah. He clears his throat and immediately starts to dish himself some meatloaf and red-skinned mashed potatoes.

He’s working a case and didn’t ask for my help? That can only mean he’s not taking our talk well at all. What kind of case? I ask, pretending everything’s normal between us.

Nothing big. Someone robbed a gas station convenient store. He shrugs. The security tapes got a good enough image of him, so we were able to track him down pretty quickly.

We? Did you get a partner? I ask.

Mitchell pours himself some iced tea. No, Matthews helped with this one.

I’ve met Officer Matthews a few times. Nice enough guy. He’s sort of indifferent to me and what I do, which is fine with me.

Jezebel bounds into the dining room and runs right over to Mitchell.

I guess she was sleeping when you got here, I say. Jez adores Mitchell.

He turns sideways in his seat and scratches behind her left ear while saying, How’s my favorite girl?

She responds by licking his face.

What about you two? Mom asks, her gaze volleying between Dad and me. Things seem quiet at the office this week.

Thankfully, Dad says. Weltunkin has seen its share of awful events lately.

He’s right, but that also means less money coming in for me. Simple jobs like following spouses around to see if they’re cheating or looking into someone’s past don’t pay as well as the cases Mitchell brings me. And I have to admit I’m kind of hoping he brings me a case soon, not only for the money but because working together might ease this tension between us since we’d be focused on a common goal.

Any more premonitions, Piper? Mitchell asks.

I shake my head. I don’t think it’s an ability I’ll be counting on very often.

It’s still great that you tapped into it. Mitchell clears his throat, and I’m not sure if he’s thinking about our conversation at Marcia’s Nook yesterday or if my seeing the future is making him think about his mother. Either way, he looks like he’s two seconds from throwing up his meatloaf.

Oh, Andrews asked me to give you a message, Mitchell says.

Officer Andrews is not my biggest fan. I’m the only one who knows about his love of strip joints and his tendency to step outside of his marriage. But I recently read his wife’s earrings when he thought she was having an affair, and I discovered she’s actually working a second job to pay for a cruise she wants to surprise him with.

That can’t be good, Dad says. Is he still giving you a hard time, pumpkin?

I think we’ve reached an understanding, I say. What’s the message? I ask Mitchell.

He said to tell you that you were right.

That’s it? Dad asks.

Mitchell shrugs. Care to fill us in, Piper?

As much as I don’t care for Officer Andrews, I’m not going to spill his secrets at the dinner table. I did a favor for him recently. It’s nothing really.

Mitchell narrows his eyes at me. Did you read him?

I shake my head. I have no desire to read him ever again. I can assure you of that.

You read something for him then. It’s not a question. Mitchell knows me too well.

I nod. That’s all I’m saying.

All right, well I’m just glad he’s opening up to you, Dad says, and his tone implies he would have had a chat with Officer Andrews if he was still giving me a hard time. No matter how old I get, Dad always treats me like I’m his little girl.

No need. I’ve got it under control. I finish my mashed potatoes and lean back in my chair. I’m stuffed. Dinner was delicious as always, Mom.

Mitchell nods, his mouth full.

I’m glad to hear it because you two are going to do the dishes for me. She smiles before drinking what’s left of her iced tea.

Just what I need. Time alone with Mitchell.

* * *

Wednesday morning, I’m so eager to start working on a new case that I go to