Excerpt #1: 'The Last Case'

      I used to be a private investigator before I became dead. Now, as you might suspect, I have handled my last case.

      The guy in the trench coat looking down at me is my best friend, Lieutenant Hanrahan. I called him Han, or sometimes Han Squared. He’s not surprised to find me dead. He always told me I’d go young, but we both figured I’d die from the three packs a day of Marlboro Reds I smoked, the Jack Daniel’s I drank for breakfast or the garbage I ate in my car while tracking down deadbeat dads or staking out cheating husbands for hours at a time.

      The baseball legend Mickey Mantle used to say, “If I had known I’d live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself.” Me? If I had known I’d die this early, I’d have had some real fun. Know what I mean? (wink, wink.)

      Well, it doesn’t matter now, because it wasn’t hard living that put me away. It was definitely those three slugs from a .38 special. Two in the chest and one through the forehead, just for good measure. Yeah, I’m dead, alright, and now it’s up to Lieutenant Hanrahan to find out who pulled the trigger. I’d tell him myself if I could, but you know how it is, being dead and all. I can, however, tell my story to you.