Great Crimes Read Alike (Piper Ashwell Psychic P.I. Book 7)

By Kelly Hashway

There’s one case psychic P.I. Piper Ashwell has never been able to forget—the one that outed her as a gifted psychometrist at the age of twelve.
Seventeen years later, a case comes across Piper’s desk that reminds her a little too much of the time she had to find beloved child actress Belinda Maxwell. Now Piper is questioning if her abilities are leading her to the wrong man and it’s really a copycat crime.
Worse, the truth she discovers about that case seventeen years ago is enough to completely unravel everything Piper ever thought she knew. She’ll have to face all her old demons to save a young girl’s life as well as her own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kelly Hashway
• Release date: Apr 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463046401

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 walk into the office Monday morning feeling more nervous than I have in a long time. I’m not sure who I’ll see first this morning, my dad, former police detective Thomas Ashwell and my new partner at my PI business, or Detective Mitchell Brennan, my partner, best friend, and as of very recently, the guy I’m dating.

And by dating, I mean I’ve gone on exactly one date with him, considering it was only yesterday that I admitted I have feelings for him. And it’s entirely possible that date included my golden retriever, Jezebel, and took place at a dog park. Very romantic, I know.

I’m not the type to do emotions well, though. It took Mitchell tricking me while I was in a meditative state—something I still haven’t completely forgiven him for—to admit he’s not only my closest friend but that he has a shot with me.

So, here I am. Sitting at my desk, which is dwarfed in comparison to my father’s—I haven’t forgiven him for that either—wondering which of the two men in my life is going to walk through that door and make my day more awkward.

I tense when the door opens.

Hey, Mitchell says with a smile.

Morning. I have no idea how to do this. Do I get up to greet him now? Am I supposed to hug him? Kiss him? God, this is all so confusing.

Want to go grab some coffee and muffins next door? I’m buying, Mitchell says, his hands in his pockets.

Sounds good. I get up and start for the door, which he opens for me. How did you sleep? One, two, three, four.

How did I sleep? You’ve never asked me that before.

Five, six, seven.

Are you counting the steps to Marcia’s Nook? he asks, gently taking my arm and pulling me to a stop.

I usually count the twenty-three steps from my office to Marcia’s Nook, so this isn’t unusual for me. Of course, today I’m doing it to keep my mind off the awkwardness of not knowing how to work with Mitchell after confessing there’s something between us.

What’s going on with you this morning? he asks.

I don’t know. I’m just not sure how to act around you.

How about you act like Piper and I’ll act like Mitchell? Unless you want to act like Mitchell, but I’m guessing that could be awkward because then I’d have to be Piper and your dad would call me pumpkin.

I laugh and loop my arm through his. I’m being stupid, aren’t I?

He pats my hand, and we start walking again. Like I’d ever call you stupid. But on a more serious note, we don’t have to tell anyone yet if you aren’t ready.

I stop walking and look at him. Really? But I thought you wanted to go to the dog park yesterday because it was a public place and people would see us.

That’s true. I’m not trying to hide anything. But we’re talking about your family and Marcia, who is your only other friend besides me. If you’re not ready to face them with this news yet, then we’ll wait.

For exactly two seconds, I’m thinking Mitchell couldn’t be sweeter, but then I realize what’s really going on. You’re afraid to tell my dad.

What? No. That’s silly. He tries to start walking again, but I tug him back.

Uh-uh. You’re not getting off that easily. You are totally afraid of my dad. It was one thing to let him know how you felt about me, but to tell him we’re dating… You couldn’t be more scared. And even Marcia scares you because you know she’ll threaten you with a rolling pin or something if you hurt me.

Mitchell rubs the back of his neck. "Well, now I’m worried she’ll do that. Thanks for that image, Piper."

So, what do you want to do? Wait until they figure it out for themselves? I suggest.

I guess that could work. It will give us time to get used to this before dealing with their reactions.

I let go of his arm. Deal.

Did I somehow just make a case for you not coming into physical contact with me after it took me this long to get you to do it in the first place?

Afraid so, Detective. I cock my head and give him a sympathetic smile. Not a good start to your week.

He opens the door to Marcia’s Nook. The week starts on Sunday, and my Sunday was fantastic.

We did have fun with Jez at the dog park. Mitchell brought her a bunch of tennis balls and a frisbee to play with. And we had dinner at one of the picnic tables and watched the sunset. Then Mitchell took me home like a perfect gentleman. As far as first dates go, I think it was pretty successful.

Marcia comes out of the kitchen with flour all over her face. Oh, good morning, you two. Don’t mind me. I had a little baking mishap. I swear today is not my day.

Uh-oh, I say, it’s only seven.

I know. What can I get for you? She grabs a towel and tries to clean off her face.

Mitchell gives my elbow a squeeze and says, I’ll be right back. He disappears into the stacks of books.

Here, I say, walking around the counter to Marcia. Let me help. I use the towel to wipe her face. Why don’t you go finish whatever you were doing, and I’ll get the coffee and muffins for Mitchell and me?

Your dad’s not coming in today? she asks.

He is.

Oh, then why did you say for Mitchell and you? She quirks an eyebrow at me.

I haven’t had any coffee yet this morning. Clearly my brain isn’t fully operational. I laugh it off, but Mitchell returns holding up two books.

Which one or both? he asks me.

Marcia cocks her head now, and I try to stymie her suspicion by saying, Both. You know me. No social life whatsoever. I can use all the good books I can find.

Mitchell smirks, and I know I’m not pulling off this ruse well at all.

I pour three coffees, two French roasts for Dad and Mitchell and a toasted almond for me. When I turn around, Marcia has three coffee muffins in a bag and is ringing up the order. Mitchell pays, and we’re about to get away when Marcia says, Oh, Piper. I need you in the kitchen for one second.

I look at Mitchell, who shrugs. And then I follow Marcia into the kitchen, where she throws her arms around me.

When did this happen? she practically squeals.

When did what happen?

She pulls away and frowns. Don’t hold out on me. You and Mitchell. I haven’t seen you in a few days, and clearly, I missed an awful lot.

I don’t want to lie to Marcia, but there’s not much to tell and I don’t want to talk about it, so I settle on, Please don’t say anything. We aren’t ready to tell my dad yet.

She mimes zipping her lips and then squeals. Not a word. She pulls me in for another hug before releasing me back to Mitchell.

He gets the door for me and says, So she knows?

Oh, she knows.

He nods over my head, and I can only imagine the smile on Marcia’s face as she peeks her head out of the kitchen to watch us leave.

I count the steps back to my office. Thankfully, Dad hasn’t shown up yet. I open the office door and place my purse on top of my desk before taking a seat.

Mitchell sits down across from me and digs right into the bag of muffins. I’m starving, he says with his mouth full.

I roll my eyes. When aren’t you starving?

He shrugs and takes a sip of coffee, burning his mouth in the process, judging by the look of pain on his face.

Such a rookie, I say, taking a big swig of my toasted almond.

Yeah, yeah. We don’t all have mouths of steel.

The office door opens, and Dad walks in. Mitchell sits up straighter, and my entire body tenses. So much for acting normal so Dad doesn’t get suspicious.

Morning, Dad, I say before grabbing a muffin and shoving it into my mouth, taking the biggest bite humanly possible so I can’t talk.

Morning, pumpkin. Dad nods to Mitchell, who says, Morning, sir.

Dad chuckles as he grabs the muffin bag and his coffee from the drink caddy. What case do we have to work on today? he asks as he sits down.

I’m still battling the mammoth bite of muffin in my mouth, so I hold up one finger. We do have a simple background check to work on, but Mitchell’s presence here could also mean he has a case for us. Unless he’s just going to start coming here instead of the station in the mornings. But that would be weird since us dating wouldn’t change the fact that he has a job with the Weltunkin PD.

I have something. I got the call late last night, Mitchell says. He looks around. Oh, I guess I left the case file in my car.

Not a good start to a Monday morning, Detective, I say after finally swallowing.

No, I guess not. I’ll be right back. He gets up and walks out to his car.

Well, he’s rattled this morning, Dad says as I take another sip of my coffee. I kind of thought he’d be less worked up now that you two finally stopped lying to yourselves.

What? I nearly spit my coffee at him. Dad’s a great detective, but there’s no way he could possibly figure out Mitchell and I are dating from the little he’s observed this morning.

I just thought after you both admitted you have feelings for each other, things would be out in the open and more laid back around here.

There’s only one way Dad could know about Mitchell and me. Oh my God, he told you?

Dad laughs. Pumpkin, he called me after he brought you home last night.

That little sneak. He wasn’t afraid of Dad finding out about us. He was afraid of me finding out he’d already told him! And he got away with it because I’m doing everything in my power not to read Mitchell.

Mitchell walks back into the office holding a file folder. I immediately level him with a look, and he stops short, his gaze going to Dad. You told her?

"More like you told him, I say. You lied to me. We’ve been dating for all of two seconds, and you’ve already lied to me."

Mitchell holds up his hand. "Now wait a second. I didn’t lie. Technically, I said we don’t have to tell anyone until you’re ready. I never said I didn’t tell anyone."

You’re unbelievable, I say.

He sits down. Unbelievably handsome, I know.

Keep dreaming. You know that’s not even close to what I meant.

Oh, this is going to be entertaining, Dad says, sitting forward in his chair and watching us like we’re the hottest thing in reality TV. Not that I’d have a clue what that is since I don’t watch TV.

Okay, you don’t like jokes when you’re angry. Got it, Mitchell says.

Try saying you’re sorry, Dad tells him.

Mitchell makes a finger gun motion at Dad. Good thinking. Thanks. He faces me. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to play a technicality like that. It won’t happen again.

I shake my head. Okay, let’s get a few things straight right now. First, you don’t lie to me or withhold information from me. Got it?

Got it, Mitchell says.

I swivel my chair to face Dad and shake my finger at him. And you.

Dad jerks back in his seat.

You don’t coach Mitchell in this relationship. That is beyond not okay. In fact, there will be no talk about relationships in this office. Am I making myself clear? I volley my gaze between them.

Very clear, Mitchell says, holding up his hands in surrender.

You got it, pumpkin, Dad says, but I catch a hint of a smile on his lips before he sips his coffee.

This conversation with Mitchell is far from over, but I’m not going to discuss it further in front of Dad. Tell me about the case, I say, trying to regain my composure.

Mitchell opens the file. "Willa Monroe is a child actress slash singer. She’s currently on the show Voices in America’s Youth. It’s a singing competition on TV, he adds for my benefit. They’re on a break from filming at the moment, so Willa came home to Weltunkin. Her parents threw a big party for her to celebrate Willa making it to the final round of competition, which is supposed to air in a week. But Willa went missing from the party."

My senses started tingling the second Mitchell said child actress. My very first case ever, when I was twelve-years-old, was finding Belinda Maxwell, beloved child actress. This feels a little too familiar.

Piper, Dad says, are you okay? He slides his chair over and places his hand on mine.

She’s twelve, Thomas, Mom says. This is too much on her. She shouldn’t have to see these horrors in the world at her age. You need to find that girl on your own.

Bonnie, Piper is strong. She has this gift for a reason. She can find Belinda before it’s too late. If I don’t encourage her to do this, Belinda will die.

Dad yanks his hand from mine. Did you just read me?

Warm tears streak my cheeks, and Mitchell is out of his seat and at my side. Don’t coddle me, Mitchell. You know I can’t stand that. Go sit down.

He does as I ask. He and Dad just stare at me, waiting for me to speak. The problem is, I don’t want to tell them what I saw or what I’m thinking. I don’t want to relive the Belinda Maxwell case, yet my senses are telling me that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

Chapter Two

I stand up and grab my phone from my purse. I need to go for a walk and clear my head. Dad, can you handle the background check for Stanford Media? I emailed you the details.

Of course, but, pumpkin, I don’t think—

I hold up a hand to stop him. Please, Dad. I need to be alone right now.

What about me? Mitchell asks. I mean, the case?

Not now. I just can’t. I walk out of the office without looking back.

I’m not all that surprised when Mitchell rushes out to catch up to me. I stop and face him. What part of ‘I need to be alone right now’ are you having trouble comprehending?

Don’t do that. Don’t push me away.

I’m not trying to, but I need you to understand when I need space.

He exhales and drags a hand through his hair. Okay, but I need you to understand that I hate to see you upset, especially when I have no idea why. He meets my gaze. What did you see in that vision?

My knees feel weak, and I don’t want to break down out on the sidewalk where anyone can see us. Can we go sit in your patrol car?

Of course. He places his hand on my lower back and walks me to the car, opening the passenger door for me. Once he’s in the driver’s seat, he turns to face me. Talk to me.

I saw my mom telling Dad not to use me for the Belinda Maxwell case.

Mitchell nods. Are you upset with him for pushing you to find her?

I shake my head. He was right. I was the only one who was going to save that girl before Heathrow Livingstone killed her.

Okay, so then what’s upsetting you?

I twist the ring on my pinky. "This case you