Dead Ringer (Cold Case Psychic Book 6) by Pandora Pine (2)

“I take it that means you’re feeling better?” Ronan reached out for Ten’s hand.

“Once we hit the Walpole town line, I was good as new. How crazy is that? Not that we’re ever going to move but living in a city with a maximum-security prison is definitely out of the question.” Ten shivered. It was something that had never crossed his mind. In all of the years he’d lived in Massachusetts, he’d never visited the town of Walpole. So far as he knew, he’d never even driven through it.

“I’ll keep that in mind for when we’re looking for a place to retire in sunny Florida.”

“You want to retire to Florida?” Ten didn’t know that about his husband.

“Of course, don’t you? I don’t want to be in my sixties and still shoveling snow. You don’t have to shovel sunshine, Nostradamus. Didn’t you know that?” Ronan laughed at his own joke.

Tennyson laughed along with him. “Surprisingly, yes, I did know that. Can you imagine us retired? No more bullets flying at your body. No more trips to the ER. No more brown accordion files or excursions to the morgue, although, I will miss Vann Hoffman. He made the morgue fun.”

“That’s the first thing I look for in my coroner, a sense of humor.” Ronan slapped a hand on the steering wheel.

“What’s the second thing?” Ten couldn’t wait to hear this answer.

“Abs of steel. What else?”

“Of course.” Ten had never seen the good doctor without his blue scrub top but knew enough about the man to know there were abs to spare under it. “Vann was the medical examiner on the McAlpin case. We’re going to need to read his report at some point.”

“Agreed,” Ronan nodded. “What did you think about Tank? What were your impressions of him, beside what you read?”

Meeting and then reading Tank was another thing contributing to Ten’s queasy stomach. “I liked him. He’s a good man who didn’t kill anyone. I can’t imagine being arrested for a crime I didn’t commit and then being tried and convicted for it too.”

“The worst part though has to be knowing that your brother, your twin, no less, is the one who killed this woman.” Ronan shook his head. “You hear so much about the twin thing and how close identical twins are and I just can’t get over the fact that Tim is letting Tom rot in prison.”

“Let’s not string Tim up by the neck just yet. He could be innocent too. He had an alibi after all.” Ten found it hard to believe that one brother would do this to another, but he’d grown up as an only child and had nothing to base his theory of sibling loyalty on except reruns of The Brady Bunch and Eight is Enough.

“His wife was his alibi, Ten.” Ronan shot him a look of disbelief. “Spouses are notoriously bad alibi witnesses.”

“Are you kidding me, Ronan? No offense here, but if I thought you killed someone I wouldn’t want you in our home or sleeping in our bed. That would go double if we were parents. I can’t imagine Tim’s wife, Michelle, wanting him home with their three young sons if there was even a shred of doubt in her mind that he did this awful thing.”

“Come on, Ten. Don’t be so naïve. We watch those trashy daytime shows all the time where the wives are convinced their husbands are faithful to them and it turns out that the men are cheating on them left, right, and sideways.”

Ten snorted. “How exactly do you cheat on someone sideways?”

“I’ll show you tonight.” Ronan winked at his husband. “But before we can get to that, the first thing we need to do is talk to Fitzgibbon. Can you call him and put it on speakerphone?”

Ten dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number.

“Hey, Ten, how’s prison treating you? Any chance they decided to keep Ronan? I sure could use a few days off from his constantly running motor-mouth.” Kevin sounded downright jovial.

“Hilarious.” Ronan deadpanned. “That’s no way to treat your best detective, boss. Ten and I were just talking about living in Florida.”

“You were? Hell, why didn’t you say so! I’ll start writing your letter of recommendation now. Take my best detective, please!” Fitzgibbon laughed.

“Ten, take him off our Christmas card list, would you? And buy extra eggs and toilet paper when you go grocery shopping this week.” Ronan winked at his husband.

“It’s like working with preschoolers.” Ten shook his head. “We have intel for you, Cap.”

“Intel? Christ Ten, this isn’t the CIA. Or is it? Have you been drafted by The Company?” Fitzgibbon asked.

“That’s above your paygrade, Cap.”

Ten whacked Ronan’s shoulder. “You’re grounded, so hush. If you and Greeley don’t have any plans, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? Ronan and I will fill you in on what happened.”

“Are you cooking, Ronan, or calling for take-out?” Kevin laughed.

“Probably calling for take-out. Why?” Ronan asked.

“No reason,” Fitzgibbon sounded relieved. “We’ll bring dessert. See you at six. Bye!” The phone beeped three times to signal Kevin had ended the call.

“What’s his problem?” Ronan sounded genuinely puzzled.

“No clue,” Ten said gently. Ronan had been taking cooking lessons from Truman, but so far only knew how to make three things. Everyone was full up on shrimp and grits, spaghetti and meatballs, and black bean chili. “You didn’t tell me Jude Byrne was so…” Ten was having a hard time picking out the right word to describe the difficult man. There were so many adjectives to choose from.

“Handsome?” Ronan supplied.

Ten turned to Ronan with his mouth hanging open. “Noo, that wasn’t the word I was going for.” That didn’t mean it was untrue though. Jude Byrne, with his leonine eyes and bad attitude was gorgeous, no doubt about it. There was something about him though that Ten couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Okay, open mouth, insert foot.” Ronan laughed. “What word were you going for?”

“He is handsome with those eyes. I’ll give you that. There’s something different about him, aside from his bad attitude.” Ten cocked his head to the side, still trying to puzzle out what he was trying to convey to Ronan.

“What do you mean different?” Ronan sounded curious.

Ten shook his head. It had been bothering him since he’d met the surly P.I., but there had been so much else going on in his head that he hadn’t had time to examine it fully until now. “I couldn’t read him, Ronan.”

Ronan looked confused. “What do you mean you couldn’t read him? Did he have his guard up?”

Ten shook his head no. “Some people are harder to read than others. Some shield their thoughts or try to hide things when I’m around. Jude was different though. This guy was a blank page.”

Ronan took his eyes off the road to give Ten a shocked look. “What does that mean? Is he a talent too and he’s blocking you?”

Ten grimaced, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s it. I think there’s something more to it than that. I need to talk to Carson about him.”

“You’re freaking me out here, Ten. Is he dangerous?”

“I have no idea. I think we should do a little internet research on him and look him up in your criminal database at work on Monday. He’s a literal blank page, Ronan. I can’t tell if he’s friend or foe or something else entirely.”

It was the something else entirely that scared him.

 

 

15
Ronan

The first thing Ronan did when they got home, after taking Dixie out for a walk, was to look up Jude Byrne on the internet. The first and maybe the most interesting thing Ronan learned was that Jude wasn’t his real first name. “Uh, Ten?” Ronan carried his laptop into the kitchen where his husband was tidying up for their guests.

“Let me guess, Jude isn’t his real name?” Ten grabbed for a dish towel to dry his wet hands.

Ronan sagged. “I hate when you do that.”

Ten held his hands out in a who-me gesture. “What? Make an educated guess?”

“No, take the wind out of my sails. Did you know that’s what I was going to tell you or did you really guess?” Sometimes it just wasn’t any fun living with an all-knowing, all-seeing, oracle.

“I really guessed. Remember I told you that I couldn’t read him at all.”

Ronan was about to remind Ten that he was psychic and probably read him instead. Thankfully, the doorbell rang, saving him from sticking his foot in his own mouth. Again. Dixie barked and raced toward the front door. “Hi, Cap,” Ronan greeted when he opened the door. “Hello, sweet Lola!” Ronan took Dixie’s sister from his boss and brought her into the house. Dixie danced at his feet.

“Hello to you too, Uncle Ronan. Don’t mind me. I just brought dessert.” Greeley grinned and headed toward the kitchen with a bakery box from Holy Cannoli.

“Hi, Greeley,” Ronan managed between dog kisses.

“You don’t look any worse for wear from your trip to Walpole.” Kevin sat down in the high-backed chair across from Ronan and the dogs.

“I’m fine. It’s Ten who had trouble.” Ronan’s look darkened. He remembered the way Tennyson had ordered him to pull over and way his entire body had shaken when he was getting ill on the side of the road.

“What do you mean trouble? Did someone try to hurt him?” Fitzgibbon was instantly in cop-mode.

Ronan shook his head. “No, nothing like that. He got really sick when the prison came into view. Ten said it had to do with the energy of the place. Sixty plus years of evil men leaving their residue on the place. He actually made me pull over so he could get sick.”

Fitzgibbon grimaced. “I had no idea that kind of thing could happen.”

“Neither did Tennyson until he was yelling at me to stop the car.” Ronan hoped to God they didn’t have to go back to visit Tank again. Or, if they did, that he could go alone.

“How did the reading go? Did Ten find out if Thomas Hutchins killed Lorraine McAlpin or not?” Kevin leaned forward to balance his elbows on his knees.

Setting Lola down on the floor, Ronan looked up at Fitzgibbon. “According to what Ten saw, Tank was home all night watching the Sox game just like he said. We did get two small leads. Tank thought he might have used the remote to pause the Red Sox game, so Jude Byrne is going to try to get access to Tank’s cable records. They might keep records of that kind of thing. Although with the way Tank’s luck has run here, I’m going to doubt the cable company can give us that kind of data, or if they can, it’s been wiped out after three years.”

“Jude Byrne? Is he the private investigator?”

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a wildcard in all of this. I had just thought he was an arrogant prick when I met him the other day, but then Ten said something to me on the way back today that has me wanting to dig deeper into his background.”

“What did he say?” Fitzgibbon sounded intrigued.

“Ten can’t read Jude at all. It’s not that Jude is blocking him or anything like that. Ten says he’s a literal blank page. He’s going to talk to Carson and Bertha about this phenomenon and see if they know anything about it.” Ronan hadn’t liked the look in Ten’s eyes when he was talking about this guy. He was equal parts freaked out and fascinated.

“Check into him on Monday, just don’t send up any red flags. Byrne isn’t the subject of this investigation, but to cover our own asses we have to make sure he isn’t wanted in any other criminal investigation and doesn’t have any warrants out for his arrest either.”

Ronan nodded. 

“You said you had a couple of small leads. What’s the other one?”

“This is actually the more interesting of the two. Tank remembered logging on to his work computer to look at the Japanese Stock Market at 8pm the night of the murder. He said he made notes about some shares on a yellow legal pad on his coffee table. I told Tank that I’d look at the evidence inventory and see if we had the pad in custody. If we don’t, the lawyer told us that Tank’s twin brother has everything from his condo boxed up in a storage facility over in Somerville.”

Fitzgibbon was silent. He rubbed his hands together while he seemed to be thinking over what Ronan had told him. “Is there any chance Tank’s firm would still have a record of his time online that night?”

“It’s worth asking the question, don’t you think? I’m wondering if that request would be better coming from us or from Tank’s appeal lawyer? You said to bring everything we found out to you first, so I haven’t made a move on this evidence. I didn’t even check the inventory sheet to see if we have a yellow legal pad in evidence.”

“Let me think about who the request should come from. In the meantime, go check the inventory and see if we have the legal pad.” Fitzgibbon sat back in his seat.

Ronan crossed the room to the table where he’d stashed the Hutchins’ files. Dixie and Lola were at his heels. “Well, hello, ladies.” He stepped around them as he walked back to the couch with the files. Both dogs hopped up beside him when he sat back down. One on either side of him.

When he opened the first accordion folder, Lola stuck her head into the first partition. “Not helpful, honey.” Ronan pulled the folder away from her, only to come face to face with Dixie on his other side. She offered him a doggie grin before licking the side of his face.

Fitzgibbon burst out laughing. “This has to go on Facebook!” He had his phone up recording the whole thing. “My best detective being bested by puppies!” He was laughing so hard the phone was shaking.

Snarling his lip, Ronan dove into the file and found the inventory list. He scanned through it but did not see a yellow legal pad. “It wasn’t collected. So that means it’s probably in a box in that storage locker. How helpful will the notation be anyway? Unless Tank dated it?”

Fitzgibbon nodded. “In conjunction with proof from his company’s IT department showing he was online at that time and with whom, it could be corroborative, but alone it won’t be enough to get him a new trial.”

“Makes me wonder though why no one thought of this the first time around. Or why Tank didn’t remember himself.” Ronan scratched behind Dixie’s ears. Lola climbed into his lap and nosed her head under his other arm.

Kevin shrugged. “You know how those trials go. In the confusion and anger of it all, Tom might not have remembered going online and looking at the Japanese stocks. When you’re innocent, you think it’s all going to work out in your favor. He could have had a shit trial attorney or he could have had a good one who thought his client was innocent too. Then there was the DNA. I still can’t believe that with twins sharing the same genetic material the jury didn’t find room for reasonable doubt.”

That had bothered Ronan too. Tank Hutchins had no criminal background. Not one witness called to testify had a bad word to say about the man. The only shred of evidence against him was his DNA on the murder victim. This jury was not sequestered and there had been no rumors of trouble in the jury room. Usually stuff like that had a way of leaking out after the verdict, but nothing like that had ever come to light. The five men and seven women considered the facts in evidence, voted, and all agreed that Thomas Hutchins killed Lorraine McAlpin.

“I think the request for the IT records should come from the attorney. If I make the call, it’s going to look like the Boston Police Department is reopening the case, which we’re not doing.” Kevin sighed. “You’re putting me in a tough spot here, Ronan.”

“I know, Cap.” Ronan agreed. “Aside from the episode we were in about Michael Frye, you ever watch Dateline?”

Kevin shot him a confused look. “No, and I barely watched the episode we were in.”

“Bullshit!” Ronan laughed. “You’ve got it saved on your DVR! I saw it there the other night when I couldn’t sleep.”

“What’s your point, Ronan?” Fitzgibbon’s hackles were up.

“Aside from the fact that I’m a kick ass detective?” When Fitzgibbon’s frown only deepened, Ronan pressed on, “They talk about old cases on that show sometimes, where the wrong person was convicted. Whenever they interview the original detectives on the case, they always, to a man, stick by their original conclusion that the person they arrested was the murderer, even when there’s stone-cold, irrefutable proof that person is innocent of the crime.”

Fitzgibbon rolled his eyes. “You’re saying that you don’t want to be that detective when Dateline comes back to town to interview people for the McAlpin murder?”

“Something along those lines.” Ronan shook his head. “We’re in this job to arrest criminals. There’s no crime in admitting we made a mistake. Granted, this wasn’t our case.” Ronan pointed back and forth between himself and Kevin. “It was a BPD case with rock-solid DNA evidence. It just might be that we got it wrong. What was it that Thomas Jefferson said about letting guilty men go free?”

“It was Benjamin Franklin, and he said, ‘It is better that one hundred guilty men should go free than one innocent man should suffer.’ Or something along those lines. Not that I agree with the hundred guilty men part, but I see what point you’re driving toward. You do realize that I’ll be in for a whole lot of butt hurt when the commissioner gets wind of this off-the-books investigation, right?”

“I had no idea he swung that way!” Ronan grinned.

“Not funny, Ronan.” Fitzgibbon’s lips were curling into a smile.

“I know. I know. We’ll figure out how to spin it when the time comes. If the time comes. The Massachusetts Court of Appeals is notoriously stingy when it comes to overturning verdicts from the lower courts. From what I read in the trial transcript there was nothing glaringly wrong in any of the judge’s rulings or in the way Tank was represented. The only way he’s going to be granted a new trial is if new evidence comes to light.”

Fitzgibbon nodded. “I know, but I’ll be working on my letter of resignation anyway. On a positive note, I already know who my successor will be.” His grin was as wide as the Charles River.

“You do?” Ronan had a sinking feeling about this.

Fitzgibbon pointed at Ronan. “There’s no better man for the job. I’ll even leave a new bottle of lube in my top drawer for all the butt hurt you’ll be in for.”

 

 

16
Tennyson

“Now I know how Charlie Brown feels, Uncle Ten.” Greeley pouted as he walked into the kitchen carrying the box from Holy Cannoli.

“Did someone pull a football away just as you were about to kick it?” Ten took the bakery box from him, setting it on the counter, and gave the sulky teenager a hug.

“No!” Greeley whined dramatically. “My dog likes Uncle Ronan better than me.”

Ten laughed and hugged the boy tighter. “Don’t feel too bad. My dog likes Ronan better too. I’m chalking it up to Dixie having no taste at all. If Lola likes him better than you, it must be bad genes.”

Greeley burst out laughing. “That’s for sure.” He pulled back from Ten. “You don’t feel so good, huh?”

“Why do you say that?” Ten narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know. I could feel it when I hugged you. Not physically like you were shorter or had a lump or something else weird. You’re just off, somehow.” Greeley ran a hand through his dark hair and seemed to really be studying Tennyson.

“Well, you’re right. Do you know anything about where Ronan and I went today?” He was torn about telling Greeley any of this, but it was leading him toward something else he’d been meaning to talk to the teenager about for a while now.

Greeley shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Sort of, but not really. I know Dad’s kinda pissed about some dumbass thing Uncle Ronan did.”

Ten barked out a rough laugh. “Yeah, that explains this situation in a nutshell. Let me call out for dinner and then I’ll give it to you in a bit more detail.”

“What are you ordering?” Greeley’s eyes glowed. He rubbed his hands together as if he couldn’t wait to eat.

“Couple of pizzas and salads from Greek Life. Is there anything else you want me to add?” Ten knew it was dangerous question to ask. Greeley ate like a plague of locusts.

“Hot wings! Get the biggest order they have with extra hot sauce on the side.”

“If I do that you have to promise to fart out on the deck.” Ten felt his dry heaves return. The last time they’d had hot wings with Greeley, he’d had to use up an entire bottle of Febreze to get rid of the stench. At one point, he was afraid they’d have to get a new couch.

“Seriously, Uncle Ten?” Greeley giggled.

“Your ass is a weapon of mass destruction. Do we have a deal or not?” Ten was not standing down on this point.

“Fine.” Greeley sat at the table and sulked harder while Ten called in the order.

After he got off the phone, Ten grabbed drinks out of the fridge and joined Greeley at the table. He set a Coke in front of the teenager and kept the bottle of water for himself. “Uncle Ronan got a letter from a convict at Walpole asking for our help because he was innocent of the crime he was convicted of committing.”

“Ohhh, so that’s why he spent the night with us. You were pissed that he went down there. It all makes sense now. Continue.” Greeley folded his hands in front of him.

 Ten couldn’t help thinking this kid was something. “It all makes sense now?”

“Yeah, that’s the prison where Uncle Ronan’s dirtbag ex is housed, right? Along with other baddies that he’s locked up over time. I can see why you’d be super pissed that he went. It could have been a trick so that some asswipe with a homemade weapon could have killed him. That’s how cons get street cred on the inside.” Greeley nodded like he knew all about it. “I watch Lockup Raw on MSNBC. You learn a lot about prison life on that show.”

Tennyson had never seen that particular program before and was thanking Christ for it now. “You’re right about who’s housed there. Anyway, Ronan met with the man who wrote the letter. His name is Thomas Hutchins. Ronan got the vibe from him that he was innocent and asked me to go back down there with him and read Tom to see if he actually killed the woman he was convicted of murdering.”

“That’s where you both went today?”

Ten nodded. “A few seconds after the prison came into view, I got sick. I made Ronan pull over and threw up on the shoulder of the road. I was psychically overwhelmed.”

Greeley’s eyes narrowed. “Like when I had too much homework in my GED classes and I just lost my shit?”

Ten chuckled. “Something like that. I would liken it more to those video game arcades down at Salem Commons. There are so many sounds and flashes of light, combined with the crush of people. All of those things are bombarding your senses all at once. It was psychic overload with evil energies.”

Shivering in the warm kitchen, Greeley reached out for Ten’s hand. “That sounds awful. How did you fight it?”

Ten reached into his pocket and pulled out some black stones. They weren’t polished like most of the crystals he carried. They were in the raw. “Both pockets were filled with this.”

Greeley let Ten’s hand go and picked up one of the stones. He closed his fist around it and shut his eyes.

Amazement and pride flowed through Ten as he watched the young man work with the crystal.

“This is off the hook!” Greeley’s eyes were sparkling when they popped back open. “What is this stuff?”

“It’s black tourmaline. It’s good for blocking negative energy and psychic attacks. How did you feel when you held it and centered yourself with the stone?” Ten was interested to see how the crystal made Greeley feel.

The teenager was silent, as if he were choosing his words carefully. “This is going to sound strange, but in my mind’s eye, I could see it moving through my body, cleansing me.”

“It’s been called a disinfectant for the soul, so I can see where you’d get that impression from the stone.”

Tennyson pushed the small pile of stones toward Greeley. “Why don’t you keep these? I have a feeling you’re going to need them. Keep one under your pillow. Carry one in your pocket. Put one in the car when you get one.”

“Thanks, Uncle Ten.” Greeley scooped the dark stones up and held them in his hand. “So, the stones alone didn’t work for you today?”

Leave it to Greeley to come back to what was wrong with him. “Not really. I had to push back against the dark energy with my own light. It’s an exhausting process. I managed to get through the interview with Tom Hutchins. He didn’t kill the woman he was sent to prison for murdering.”

“That totally sucks.” Greeley shook his head. “Being in prison for a crime you didn’t commit. Of course, everyone on Lockup says they’re innocent too, but come on, they’re totally not.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’re not going to have to go back there again, are you?” The concern was genuine in Greeley’s eyes.

“Not right now,” Ten breathed a sigh of relief. “There’s a lead Ronan’s going to look into and another one that Hutchins’ private investigator is checking out, so I should be in the clear for now.”

“Wow, this con has a private eye? What a cool job! Slinking around and getting the dirt on people.”

Ten tilted his head. “Jobs like that can drag a man down rather than lifting him up. After a while, you start to think the only kinds of people in the world are the ones who cheat on their spouses or fake disability claims. A man with your kind of light would drown in a career like that.”

Greeley nibbled his bottom lip for a minute. “I guess you’re right, Uncle Ten. Stakeouts look so cool and those guys always carry around those cameras with the big ass zoom lenses and drive pricey sports cars.”

“You hear that, Ronan? My son thinks stakeouts are cool!” Fitzgibbon laughed as he walked into the kitchen. Ronan was right behind him.

Ronan snickered. “Good, I’ll let him sit in the Mustang all night with a take-out bag from Taco Bell and their thirty-two-ounce soda. Just make sure you piss on the neighbor’s tree, not ours.”

“What? Those guys take a leak outside? And you know what happens when I take a run to the Border. It’s followed by a run to the bathroom! Gross! I definitely don’t want to be a P.I. now.” Greeley wore a skeeved out look on his face.

Fitzgibbon slapped a hand on Tennyson’s back. “I owe you big time for that. How can I ever repay you? With a Ferrari maybe? Christ, my blood pressure would have been through the roof if he’d become a private investigator.”

“What was the other thing you wanted to talk to me about, Uncle Ten?”

“Why do you think there’s something else?” There was, but Ten wanted to know what gave Greeley that impression.

“Every time I see you, there’s this look on your face like you want to ask me something, but you don’t have the right words to do it. Am I right?”

Tennyson laughed. The kid was so spot on, it was ridiculous. “There is something I want to ask you about. It’s about something that happened at mine and Ronan’s wedding.”

It was Greeley’s turn to laugh. “That whole day was wild, Uncle Ten. There are parts of it I’m still trying to process myself. That’s why I haven’t said anything to you when you had that word constipation look on your face.”

“Word constipation?” Fitzgibbon grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and joined them at the table.

“Yeah, you know when you’re trying to think of a word and it just won’t come. Just like when you’re in the bathroom trying to take a-”

Fitzgibbon held up both hands. “Got you loud and clear.”

Tennyson wasn’t sure where he wanted to go with the conversation. It was not a case of word constipation, but a case of maybe more happening with Greeley than just him having been able to see who was walking Ronan down the aisle. He’d been so busy dancing his first dance and cutting the cake and enjoying the wedding that he hadn’t had his eye on the teenager during the whole reception. “I saw one thing in particular that made me curious, but you saying the whole day was wild has me even more curious.”

Greeley took a long slug from his Coke. His hands twisted around themselves after he set the can back on the table. “I’d read a lot about The Day of the Dead and All Souls Day. I knew that veil between the spirit world and the physical world was at its thinnest on that day. I also remember what we talked about in Kansas, Uncle Ten, with you thinking that I had above average intuition and how that would serve me well as a social worker.”

“You put two and two together and opened yourself up to the possibilities of the spirit world, didn’t you?” Ten couldn’t keep a smile from blooming across his face.

“Yeah, I did. I wasn’t sure what would happen or if anything at all would happen.” Greeley glanced up at his father who had a spellbound look on his face.

“Tell me what you experienced,” Ten urged. He was sitting on the edge of his seat.

“When I got to the Hawthorne Hotel, I had a feeling I was being watched. You know, like you hear about in those old horror movies. It wasn’t scary or anything. I was just aware that spirits were around. I had never felt anything like that before and haven’t since.”

Ten nodded. He knew exactly what Greeley was describing. He’d gone through something similar when he’d first gotten his gift only the feeling of being watched stayed with him and developed into something much greater.

“Then, when Uncle Ronan was walking down the aisle, he wasn’t alone.” He turned to Ronan, “I know we talked about your mother’s spirit walking with you, but I almost lost my mind when I saw her on your arm in that blue dress.”

Ronan laughed. His blue eyes were misty with the memory. “You could see her?”

Greeley nodded. “Not only her, Uncle Ronan, but the other redhead too. Who was she? I haven’t seen any pictures of her before. She looked a lot like Erin.”

Ten exchanged a watery look with Ronan, who appeared to be on the verge of losing it. “That was our daughter.”

Fitzgibbon’s mouth dropped open. “I-I.” His mouth shut with an audible clack. “How?”

“I don’t know the exact hows and whys of it either, but Bertha was somehow able to use her power to make Erin visible to Ronan for a short time while he was getting dressed. He was able to catch a glimpse of our little miss then. She was somehow able to do it again when they were walking down the aisle because I could see them both too. Bertha and Erin have been telling me that they’ve been visiting her soul and I guess they thought we should have glimpse of our future on our wedding day.” A rogue tear slid down Tennyson’s cheek.

Fitzgibbon opened his mouth to speak again, but no sound came out. He made eye contact with his son, but still no words came out of his mouth.

“Dad wants to know if Bertha or Erin have seen my sister? The one that Madam Aurora told him about?” Greeley squeezed his father’s shoulder. Fitzgibbon nodded, but didn’t say a word.

“I’ll ask them about that the next time I see either of them. It might help matters along if you and Jace got your acts together!” Tennyson shot Fitzgibbon a knowing look.

“Well, the two of you aren’t making things easy on me with your serial killers and ghosts of serial killers and all of these god damned bullet holes.” Fitzgibbon absently fingered the scar on his chest over his shirt.

“Good point. I have an idea that might make up for all of that.” Ten nudged Ronan’s knee under the table.

“Oh, right! I almost forgot about our idea.” Ronan shook his head as if he was still stuck in the memory of his wedding day. “Ten and I have been trying to figure out where to go on our actual honeymoon.”

“The two of you took a week off. Wasn’t that your honeymoon?” Fitzgibbon shot Greeley a confused look.

“Seriously, Kevin?” Ten raised an eyebrow. “We spent three days helping the two of move into your new house and the rest of the time rubbing each other down with Icy Hot.”

Fitzgibbon shuddered. “TMI, guys. I don’t need to know your cutesy nicknames for sex.”

“Jesus, Kevin, Icy Hot isn’t a cute nickname for sex.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “It’s that pain gel Shaq hawks on television. We were so sore from hauling boxes we could barely move.”

“This was a mistake,” Ten said with a sparkle in his eyes. “Whoever had the brilliant idea to take our friends to some tropical destination over the winter break should have their head examined. Ronan and I can just go alone to a place with a nude beach and all the free coconut oil we can slather on each other.”

“Wait! You were going to take all of us on your honeymoon too?” Greeley’s green eyes popped wide open. “Seriously?” He elbowed his father. “Apologize, Dad.”

Fitzgibbon laughed. “You want us all to go away together?”

Ronan nodded. “When was the last time you actually took a vacation?”

“When we moved into the house. You helped us move, remember?”

“Allow me to rephrase that. When was the last time you left New England to go on vacation? And don’t say when you went to Kansas with us, because that was not a pleasure trip. Between dealing with Kaye and solving the Bradley case, it felt like all we did was work.” Ronan gave his boss a triumphant smile.

“Ah, then the answer would be never.” Fitzgibbon folded his arms over his broad chest. “Smartass.”

“Ditto for me!” Greeley agreed.

“Talk to Jace, Kevin. See what he thinks about coming on this trip too. I know he’s had a lot to do after the death of his father with settling his estate but try to break him away from all of that. Make some time to get this relationship off the ground.”

“I could even have my own cabin so you and Jace could get jiggy with it.” Greeley seemed thrilled with his plan.

“And how do I know you and some crazy-haired teenager wouldn’t also be getting jiggy with it?”  Kevin leaned forward in his seat.

“Where’s the trust, Dad? Where’s the love?” Greeley tapped on his father’s chest.

“Trust? Who was it that was looking at porn on the internet last night?” Kevin raised a skeptical eyebrow at his son.

Greeley snorted. “That was Kaye.”

“What?” Tennyson started to laugh. “My mother was looking at porn?”

“I know, right!” Greeley looked stunned too. “She told me she was looking something up online and all of a sudden this video popped up. I told her to share her screen with me so I could see what was going on and that was when Dad came into my room. He saw three guys going at it and went ballistic.”

Ronan was laughing so hard he was having trouble breathing. “What…was…she…looking…up?” He managed on a wheeze.

“Daddy Bears,” Greeley said simply. “I found out today she meant to type in ‘teddy bears.’ I guess she wants to send something to Truman’s babies. They had a nice talk at the wedding. Anyway, she wasn’t wearing her reading glasses and typed it in wrong. Teddy came out as Daddy. She clicked on the first link that came up and voila! Instant supersized three-way.”

“You mean the guys were really tall?” Ronan asked.

Greeley bit his bottom lip and shook his head no slowly. He didn’t answer Ronan’s question. He just held his hands a foot apart.

“Sweet Jesus!” Tennyson muttered. He guessed that him and Ronan holding hands at Kaye’s dining room table paled in comparison to the big-dicked gangbang Kaye had unwillingly witnessed.

“That’s what Kaye kept saying too!” Greeley burst out laughing.

 

 

17
Ronan

Ronan was lying in bed looking at different cruise line websites while Dixie was curled up on his right side. What was missing was Tennyson curled up on his left.

After Greeley and Fitzgibbon went home, Tennyson had disappeared upstairs. Ronan heard the water running while he’d cleaned up from dessert, but when he’d followed with Dixie and his laptop, Tennyson hadn’t been waiting for him in bed. The door to their office was closed, so Ronan had assumed Ten was in there soothing his kundalini or something similar.

“That’s okay, pixie-girl, right? You’ll help Daddy Ronan pick out the perfect spot for a tropical vacation we can’t take you on.” Ronan nuzzled the puppy’s fur and clicked on a cruise that would take them to the Panama Canal.

As Ronan read through the trip itinerary, he couldn’t help thinking about Greeley’s experience at their wedding. He knew Bertha Craig made it possible so that he could see and speak to Erin on that special day, but what would it be like if he could talk to her everyday like Tennyson could?

“Hey, babe.” Ten walked into the bedroom looking refreshed and relaxed.

“Well, hello to you too, Icy Hot!” Ronan set down the computer to ogle his husband. Ten was shirtless and wearing tight yoga pants.

Ten crawled up on the bed next to Ronan. Dixie scampered over to see him. “Hello, precious.” He buried his face in her black and white fur. “What are you doing?”

“I was looking up cruises for our winter trip. What were you doing in the office?” Ronan reached over to the nightstand to grab his phone to snap some pictures of Tennyson and Dixie.

“I was meditating. I really like how we turned half of that room into a meditation space for me. My Buddha statue is right at home near that sunny window and my yoga rug fits perfectly beneath the sill. Did I ever tell you you’re the best husband ever?” Ten kissed the dip in his collarbone.

Ronan laughed. “As a matter of fact, you haven’t.” When they’d first moved into the house, Ronan had moved his old desk and futon into that room. While Greeley and Fitzgibbon had been staying with them, the teenager had slept on the lumpy futon. After they’d moved out, Ronan decided to ditch the crappy thing. That was when Ten mentioned what a great meditation space it would be for him.

Ronan was more than happy to turn half of the room over to Ten. He couldn’t help noticing how calm and completely relaxed his husband was when he finished meditating. He’d tried a bit of meditation when they’d gone on their little vacation to the Cape back in July, but he had been distracted by the sound of the ocean waves and the smell of the culinary creations the hotel’s chef, Gregor Allen, was whipping up in the kitchen. Mostly though, he was distracted by Tennyson sitting right next to him in the same black yoga pants he was wearing now, looking good enough to eat.

“You know you’re welcome to join me in there anytime. My mat is big enough for two.” Ten said, seeming to read his mind. “Learning how to meditate now and work on your chakras will be very beneficial when we start going through the process of trying to get pregnant. Not to mention in dealing with our day-to-day stressful lives.”

“You’re right, Ten. You look so loose and relaxed when you come out of that room.”

“It’s time that I take for myself. I know you’re getting back to running and working your body again and that’s how you take care of yourself, but it’s just as important to take care of the spiritual side of yourself too.”

“And my ass will look banging in a pair of those pants, just like yours does.” Ronan brushed a kiss against the hot skin of Tennyson’s neck.

“My ass looks banging?” Ten looked back over his shoulder.  “Ronan O’Mara, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Is it working?”

“Almost.” Ten laughed. “Tell me about the cruises before I give in to your male charms and the bulge in your pants.”

“There are a couple of choices that I really like. There’s this trip to the Panama Canal. You go to a couple of islands on the way there like Aruba and then you go through half of the canal and spend the rest of the day in Panama. The last day is in Costa Rica. Can you imagine getting to see the rainforest?”

“That sounds like an amazing trip, but maybe not with four kids under the age of two.”

Ronan frowned. “Good point. Howler monkeys and babies don’t exactly mix.”

“Those babies are howler monkeys sometimes. What else do you have?”

“Just regular Caribbean itineraries where you go to places like Martinique, St. Lucia, and Barbados, but that’s a lot of island hopping for the babies. What would you think of Bermuda?”

“There’s a cruise that just sails around that one island?” Ten didn’t look convinced that was a good plan either.

Ronan shook his head no. “All of the Caribbean cruises sail out of Fort Lauderdale, but this one sails right out of Boston, so we wouldn’t need to fly. Then the ship sails to Bermuda, which takes a day and a half. It docks at Hamilton and stays there for the whole trip, so it’s like a floating hotel. All of our meals are paid for and we never have to worry about catching the boat, except on the day we sail back to Boston.” He turned the computer toward Ten to show him the pictures of the crystal-clear azure water and the pink sand beaches.

“Wow, that looks amazing. And we wouldn’t be at sea as much in case anyone gets seasick.”

“Yeah, and if we like the cruise, you and I could go other ones in the future. I really like the idea of you and me in the Caribbean, babe. Sugar sand beaches and balmy breezes blowing through the palm trees.”

“We’ve been so busy with this Hutchins thing that I didn’t get a chance to tell about Carson and Cole wanting to expand the business. If we got this off the ground it would free me up for a bit more time off.”

“Expand how? By making the space bigger or by adding more talent?”

“Yes.” Tennyson laughed. “The biggest thing is that they want to buy the shop next door from the vacuum repairman. Carson thinks that the business is on it’s last legs anyway and he might be looking for a way out.”

Ronan nodded. It was rare he saw customers coming or going from that store. “I would agree with Carson there. If he agrees to sell that would involve a loan, I’m guessing?”

“It would, but with Carson wanting to bring in more talent, that would also mean more money. Plus, the loan would be taken out between the three of us.”

“You know I’m behind you one hundred percent in whatever you do. Cole and Carson are smart businessmen. If they think this is the right move for the business, then I’m sure it is.”

“But?” Ten asked nervously. “You’ve said all these really great supportive things, Ronan. I’m just waiting for the but.”

Nibbling on his upper lip, Ronan thought hard about all of the things Tennyson had just told him and what the possible risks were to their family and personal finances. “But, my balls are so blue right now they ache, so do you think you could possibly do something about that?” Ronan flashed him a brilliant smile.

“That’s it? I can go all in on this loan if I suck your dick?” Tennyson look skeptical and scandalized, but mostly skeptical.

“No! You can go in on this loan. Period. Please suck my dick. I’m sorry if you thought the one thing was contingent on the other.” Ronan winked at his husband and shut the lid of his laptop. “Be naked when I get back!”

Tennyson laid back on the bed and went for the waistband of his yoga pants.

“Dixie, come!” The puppy hopped off the bed and followed him out of the room. He led her into the spare bedroom where they kept her doggie bed for times like this. “Time for you to meditate, little girl. I’ll see you later. Time for Daddy Ronan to get him some.” He shut the door behind him on Dixie’s cries.

He made a mental note to tell Ten later how much he believed in him and the business he was building with Carson and Cole, but right now, he was going to focus on getting down with his new husband.

 

 

18
Tennyson

Ten was naked as the day he was born before Ronan had left the room with Dixie. He felt bad that the puppy needed to be shut up in the spare bedroom, but on the other hand, he didn’t need an audience or a wet nose where a wet nose didn’t belong either.

“Are you nekkid, boy?” Ronan called.

What was this, Deliverance? “Come find out for yourself!” Ten shouted back. “I thought you were going to fuck me sideways! Remember?”

Ronan’s laughter bubbled up from the hall. “Oh, yeah. I did, didn’t I?”

“You have no idea how to do it. Do you?” Ten sure as hell had no idea what the phrase, ‘cheated on me left, right, sideways,’ meant in the literal sense.

Ronan’s head popped around the corner into the bedroom. “Do too. I’ll prove it to you.” He strutted into the room with his fat cock bobbing against his abdomen. “Lay on your side.”

“Oh, so that’s the sideways?” Ten giggled but obeyed. Before he rolled over, he’d seen the devious look in Ronan’s darkening eyes. From behind him, he could hear his husband digging through his nightstand drawer for the lube and then the cap popping open.

Ronan knelt behind Tennyson on the bed. “Bend your leg and put your right foot flat on the mattress.” He bent to press a kiss against Ten’s right shoulder.

Slick fingers probed at Ten’s entrance. He relaxed and let Ronan’s magical fingers do their work. It wasn’t long before he felt the heat of Ronan’s chest against his back and the blunt head of his cock pressing against his eager hole.

“Let me in, babe.” Ronan eased his hips forward until he was pushing past the ring of muscle. “That’s it, just like that.” When he bottomed out, Ronan wrapped his right arm around Ten’s chest. “What do you think?”

“I like sideways. Maybe we’ll have to try right and left sometime.”

Ronan hummed his approval against the hot skin of Tennyson’s back. He took his time with the movement of his hips. “Ten…”

Tennyson rolled back, his eyes meeting Ronan’s over his shoulder. “Just like that. Slow.” He pressed back further to kiss his impossible husband. The man he loved with his entire heart and who gave him everything his heart desired in return.

Ronan obeyed his command to go slow. So much of the time they’d spent in this room lately had been hurried. Fucking hard and fast to get to the happy ending, forgetting that the journey was the most important part. Even at this pace though, Ten knew he wasn’t going to last long. This position had Ronan’s cock nudging his sweet spot constantly.

“Should have done this sooner, but my husband doesn’t let me watch porn for new ideas. All of my moves are old.” Ronan kissed Ten again, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Oh, so that’s the reason you watched porn, to increase your repertoire. I never would have guessed.”

Instead of responding to Tennyson’s snarky tone, Ronan reached for Ten’s leaking cock.

“Oh God, Ronan,” Ten moaned, resting his head back on his husband’s chest. “More, please.”

“Oh, no, babe. You were the one who said to go slow. Your wish is my command.” Ronan slowed the pace of his hand and hips down even further.

“Sadist,” Ten muttered, knowing full well Ronan was the furthest thing from that.

“That’s only going to make me go slower to prove your point.” Ronan bit Ten’s shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to let Ten know he was there.

Ronan was true to his word. Ten could feel the slow drag of Ronan’s cock as he bottomed out all the way back until he nearly pulled out. It was maddening. It was also the best fucking thing he’d ever felt in his entire life. 

“Love you,” Ten whispered. He knew he was getting close and might not remember to say those words at the critical moment. He shut his eyes and concentrated on Ronan. It felt like his husband was everywhere at once. Ten’s back was pressed entirely against Ronan’s front. His hand was still slowly stroking Ten’s erection.

“Love you too.” Ronan pressed a kiss to the hollow of Ten’s shoulder. “Need you to come for me. Can’t last much longer.”

“So then make me come. Isn’t that your job, husband?”

Biting his husband again, Ronan responded by hitching his hips harder, but not faster.

Ten moaned in response. Ronan was fucking him hard, but slow. How was that even possible? At this moment in time, Ten didn’t care. He was so close, he could practically taste it.

“Hurry up. Not waiting,” Ronan muttered.

Knowing damn well his husband wasn’t going to come without him, Ten clamped down his muscles, tightening his passage and making Ronan have to work harder to move. It also felt fucking amazing.

“Jesus, Ten, gonna come,” Ronan cried out.

Ten felt Ronan’s cock jerk deep within him. Felt his husband’s teeth dig into his shoulder. That was when his own release hit him. Ropes of sticky come splattered against his chest and stomach while Ronan kept moving his hips and muttering Tennyson’s name. He wrung every last drop from Ten before his hand dropped away. “Christ, Ronan, are you still alive?”

Ronan groaned, but didn’t move.

That was good enough for Tennyson. He’d have to remember this move for the cruise ship. He bet it would be dynamite on the water.

 

 

19
Ronan

Ronan was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when he walked into the office on Monday morning. This was the start of the two weeks when Ten would be back at work with him and he was walking on sunshine.

The first thing on his agenda was to sit down at his desk and pretend to read the paper while all of his colleagues congratulated Tennyson on their wedding. It never bothered Ronan that the detectives in the squad room like Ten better than him. Ten was more of a people person, after all.

There were shouts of congratulations and lots of hugs. A lot of the guys showed Ten pictures they had taken on their phones during the wedding and the reception. That was quickly followed by Ten giving the cop his information so they could send the pictures along. It was more fun for Ronan watching Ten work the crowd then it would have been being in the middle of it.

“Jeez, I sure the hell hope he doesn’t run for governor. He could give Charlie Baker a run for his money.” Fitzgibbon sat down in the chair Tennyson always sat in. “I kind of dig him when we have blizzards and he wears a sweater in the emergency bunker. He’s so strict when he tells people not to crowd the plow. Makes me want to do it just so he’ll have to punish me. Oh, Daddy!” Kevin growled.

“Ah, Cap? We’re sitting in the middle of the squad room, you might want to tamp that down.” Ronan pointed in the general direction of Fitzgibbon’s zipper.

“What?” Fitzgibbon turned to Ronan with a bit of a lost look on his face.

“We were talking about Charlie Baker.” Christ, had Fitzgibbon been daydreaming out loud the whole time?

“We were? I like it when he wears those sweaters during blizzard press conferences.” Kevin smiled at Ronan.

“You don’t say.” Ronan rolled his eyes and reached for his copy of The Boston Globe.

“You’re going to talk to Ten about the dead files the others left for you?” Kevin pointed to the stack of files on Ronan’s desk.

Ronan nodded. “That’s the first thing I’m going to do when Evita Grimm gets his happy ass back over here.”

“Loved by all of his people, that’s for sure. I’d watch out if I were you. I don’t think people would cry for you, Ronan. Him, yes. You, not so much.” Kevin stood up from Tennyson’s usual seat.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Fitzgibbon slapped Ronan’s shoulder. “Anytime. You hear anything back from that private dick yet?”

“Can you be a bit more specific? I know a lot of dicks, Cap.”

Fitzgibbon barked out a surprised laugh. Ronan saw every cop in the room turn and look at him. It wasn’t often the big man laughed like that.

“What’s so funny?” Ten asked. Fitzgibbon shook his head and laughed harder.

“I’m not quite sure. Do you think I broke him?” Ronan shot a guilty look at his husband.

“I don’t know, but we need proof of this moment, otherwise, it never happened.” Ten held up his phone to their still laughing boss.

“Ah, Jesus Christ, that was funny,” Fitzgibbon shook his head. “Byrne, Ronan. Have you heard anything from Jude Byrne?”

“No. Not yet. I’ll let you know when we do. Ten and I would like to get out and walk the crime scene during our lunch hour today. I’m interested to see if he’ll pick anything up.”

Fitzgibbon nodded and headed back to his office.

Ronan turned back to Ten. “You’re the hit of the ball, huh?”

“They were all so excited to show me pictures they’d taken at our wedding and to say what a great time they’d had. They’re gonna send over their favorite pictures so we’ll have them too.”

All of the fellow officers that had come up and spoken to Tennyson has been in the office last week when he’d come back to work. Not one of them had shown him any pics or told him what a great time they’d had at the wedding. Ronan had no doubt everyone in this room would have his back or take a bullet for him, but maybe he should work on his “indoor” attitude.

“So, what are these dead files you keep mentioning but never actually give me any details about?” Ten sat in his usual seat and focused all of his attention on Ronan.

Ronan pointed to the double stack of files in front of him. There were ten files in all. “These are the coldest of the cold cases.”

“Frigid cases,” Ten muttered.

“Yeah, that’s what the other detectives in the unit have implied. They worked these cases the same way I do and were never able to develop new leads or find new DNA or fiber evidence thanks to advances in testing technology. That’s where you come in.”

Ten nodded. “It’s pretty amazing how far they’ve all come when you think about how hostile everyone was to me in the beginning.”

Ten was dead on. Eleven months was a long period of time to change minds and perceptions and Tennyson had certainly done that. “Fitzgibbon is hoping that your sixth sense can give us new leads that will make it possible to close some, if not all of these cases. In addition to our regular caseload.”

“No pressure then.” Ten gave his head a little shake. “How about if I read through them and see if anything pops out at me and you can do the same with the regular cases. We’ll compare notes later.”

“Sounds good, Nostradamus.” Ronan wanted to lean forward and kiss his husband, but they were in the middle of the office.  He powered up his computer instead. 

As the morning progressed, Ronan kept an eye on Tennyson. He was taking notes on each case file which he would tuck into the folder when he was finished working on it.  He’d stack it on the floor next to his feet when he was finished with it and grab for the next file.

Ronan, for his part, had settled on what he thought would be the next case they would tackle together. It was the case of Morse Hines, a twenty-nine-year-old newlywed father of one who’d died under suspicious circumstances six years ago. The young man had been working on his car in his garage when the vehicle slipped off the jack and crushed him. There hadn’t been enough evidence to prove if the “slip” had been accidental or if it had been helped along by someone else.

He was about to check in with Tennyson to see when he wanted to break for lunch when his phone jingled with an incoming text message. He couldn’t help snorting when he saw who the message was from.

“What’s so funny? It can’t be one of our cases.” Ten set down the evidence report he was reading.

Instead of answering him, Ronan nudged his phone across the desk.

“Who the hell is Fiery Dick and what crime scene does he want us to go walk?”

“Jude Byrne. Get it? Not just his name, but I swear when he’s pissed off his eyes look like they’re on fire. Dick because he’s a P.I. and because he’s a dick.”

“I noticed that about his eyes too,” Ten said, skipping right over any talk of dicks.

“It’s interesting he wants to walk the crime scene but he doesn’t mention anything about what he found out from Tank Hutchins cable company.”

Ten’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe he’s one of those types who doesn’t trust cell phones. Any information he has he’ll give us in person rather than over the phone or in written form that can be traced back to him.”

That was an interesting point, one that Ronan hadn’t considered. “That sounds awfully paranoid to me.”

“Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you. That, plus the fact we’re not Jude’s client. Tank is. He could be breaking his own bond of confidentiality by talking to us.”

Two more good points from his husband. Ronan sank back into his chair. “How’d you get to be so smart?”

Ten shot his husband a conspiratorial grin. He looked around to make sure no one else was listening in on their conversation. “Osmosis from all the bone-jarring sex we have.”

Ronan burst out laughing. “Grab your coat. I’ll text Jude back that we’ll meet him in ninety minutes. I’m gonna need to face this guy on a full stomach.”

“Yeah, we all know how bitchy you are when you’re hungry.” Grabbing for his jacket, Ten stood up.

Slipping into his own coat, Ronan realize he had no witty comeback for that. When Ten was right, he was right.

 

 

20
Tennyson

Usually, the only view Tennyson got of the Mystic River was from high above, coming into Boston on the Tobin Bridge or on Route 93. From up high, the river was bustling with the port business of the city of Boston.

The view of the Mystic River was different from its banks. Looking out over it from the site where Lorraine McAlpin took her last breath, it was beautiful and bucolic. If you didn’t know where you were, you’d never guess the city of Boston proper was a mere two miles behind you.

Brick row houses were backed up against the high banks of this part of the river. A five-foot-tall stone wall protected the properties against rising waters during snow melt or heavy rains. About twenty-five yards down was a footbridge which led to the park Tennyson was standing in. The park was popular with dog walkers and runners.

It was one of those early morning athletes, training for the Boston Marathon, who discovered the lifeless body of Tammy McAlpin and called 911. Tennyson could see Lorraine’s townhouse from where he was standing. It was to his right about seventy-five yards down river.

“Are you using your mind powers?” Jude Byrne asked suddenly from behind him.

Ten stiffened, trying hard not to yelp out loud. He shot the private investigator an annoyed look. Instead of engaging with him, Ten turned the tables. “You get anything from Tank’s cable company?”

Jude frowned. The muscle in his jaw was ticking again. “Nothing yet. Bastards haven’t returned my call. Might get a better response if the call came from a member of the BPD.”

Ten knew it cost the man a lot to say those words out loud. He nodded briefly. “I’m not trying to use my gift, I’m just trying to get a feel for the scene. Lorraine’s house is down there.” Ten pointed. “So, how’d she get here?”

“According to the autopsy, she weighed one hundred sixty-two pounds. Not a tiny girl, but for someone of Tank or Tim Hutchins size, easily movable,” Ronan chimed in, coming to stand on Tennyson’s right.

“This is an active place. People with dogs would walk them at all hours of the day and night. I have to imagine dragging a woman or carrying her over your shoulders like a sack of potatoes isn’t something you’d want to get caught doing here.”  Ten turned around to survey the park. There were benches spread throughout and smaller, young growth trees. There wasn’t a lot of privacy here for a murder.

“You’re thinking she was lured here instead?” Ronan asked.

“Why not? From what I read in the newspaper article it was a hot July night. Perfect for a walk. No one in the neighborhood would have looked twice at a couple out for a stroll.”

“There were no fingerprints or foreign DNA in her condo, Grimm,” Jude said with a sneer.

Ten turned a sunny smile on the private dick. “I realize you might not have many friends, Jude, so I’ll roll play the scenario with Ronan.” Ten rolled his eyes and turned to his husband. He made like he was pressing a pretend doorbell. “Ding, dong.”

Ronan acted like he was opening a pretend door. “Oh, hey, Tennyson. It is so good to see you.” His voice was deliberately mechanical.

“Would you like to go for a walk in the park with me?” Ten imitated his husband’s stiff language.

“Sure! Let me grab my keys.” Ronan turned and gave Jude a see-nothing-to-it look.

“Doing it like that, the killer never came into the house. And before you say it, he never had to touch the doorbell either. He could have used a knuckle or used the fabric of his shirt to cover the pad of his finger so he wouldn’t leave a print or touch DNA.”

“God, you two are assholes.” There were the beginnings of a smile on the P.I.’s face.

“We aim to please.” Holding up a picture of the body, Ten walked over to where it had been found. There was a dense outcropping of trees next to the bank of the river. It was a pretty spot to stand and watch the water pass by.

From out of nowhere, someone grabbed Ronan, slipping a hand over his mouth and shoving something sharp into his lower back. He tried to buck out of the death grip but couldn’t.

“Okay, Jude. I think you made your point,” Ten sighed. “You can let him go now.”

“Just one more minute? I’m kind of digging the quiet.” Jude released Ronan giving him a small shove at the end.

“Jesus, you could give Ironman a run for his money. You eat steel bars for breakfast or something?” Ronan gave his shoulders a shake.

“We know from the autopsy that the victim was stabbed in the right kidney. The blow incapacitated her. Neighbors didn’t recount hearing any screams. For a stabbing this brutal you would think there would have been some sound.”

“Unless the wind was knocked out of her.” Ten turned to Jude with a wicked smile on his face.

“Oh, no! No! This guy is built like a concrete linebacker. I’m still recovering from being shot three times in the chest.” Ronan held up both hands and took a quick step backward.

“Jesus, Ronan, don’t be such a baby. You’re fine. Your endurance wasn’t a problem last night when you were…Never mind.” Ten felt color flaming his face. It was a good time to shut up, as Carson would say.

“When he was what?” Jude asked with the first real smile he’d flashed in the time Tennyson had known the surly man.

“That’s none of your business, Ironman. Just do it but watch my jewels. I’ve got a baby to make,” Ronan grumped, turning around and bracing for impact.

Jude backed up a few paces and winked at Tennyson before he came at Ronan. He hit the detective full-force, driving him to the ground. Ronan hit chest first, but the way Jude drove him down, he landed on his knees, straddling Ronan’s backside with his hands on Ronan’s back. When Ronan was down, Jude continued to demonstrate how Lorraine was stabbed.

“Can’t…breathe…dickhead…” Ronan gasped.

“Ah, the sound of silence,” Jude mused before hopping up off of Ronan and helping the panting detective to his feet.

“As painful as that looked,” Ten grimaced, shooting Ronan a sympathetic glance, “maybe now we know why no one heard Lorraine cry out for help the night she was killed.”

“Yeah,” Ronan half-growled as he brushed himself off. “Are you feeling anything here, Ten?”

Tennyson’s nerves were jangled for some reason. He tried to close his eyes and get a read on this place, but he wasn’t getting anything at all. It was like there was a strange kind of interference. This feeling reminded him of when he’d be stopped at the set of lights near his bank in Salem and the XM Radio signal would inexplicably go out. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jude Byrne lurking around and couldn’t help but wonder if he was the culprit.

Instead of trying to focus in on Lorraine McAlpin, he tried to get a read on the private investigator. Nothing. Aside from being able to gather data with his five senses, Ten was getting nothing at all. In all of the years since he’d first gotten his gift he’d never met a human being who’d been able to block that gift as effectively as Jude Byrne was doing. It was eerie.

“Tennyson?” Ronan nearly shouted. He was waving a hand in front of his husband’s eyes.

“Sorry, I was lost in space there for a minute.” He offered his husband a weak smile.

“Yeah, you were.” Ronan looked concerned.  “What were you thinking about?”

Ten could see Jude standing a few feet behind them and wasn’t going to talk to Ronan about this in front of the man. “I was thinking how messy stabbing Lorraine like Jude showed us would have left the killer. Yes, it was dark, but he still would have been pretty bloody.”

Ronan narrowed his eyes, but kept his mouth shut.

“If it was dark enough and the killer was wearing black, people who encountered him might not have noticed he was bloody. Or he could have had a backpack with him that he could have shoved the stained shirt in,” Jude suggested.

“He could have changed at his car.” Ronan pointed to the parking lot behind them. “It’s possible he parked here, crossed the bridge, and walked to Lorraine’s house this way. He would have avoided parking on her street.”

“Where does Tank live in relation to where we’re standing?” Ten asked.

Jude turned toward the footbridge and pointed. “Five blocks in that direction. It’s about a ten-minute walk from here. Tim lives on the other side of town. It’s about a fifteen-minute drive at that time of night,” Jude said, seeming to read Tennyson’s mind.

That put Ten even more on edge.

“Are you okay?” Ronan whispered.

Ten gave his head a little shake. He wasn’t feeling okay at all. Jude was really putting him off his game. Not being able to pick up one bit of information from the P.I. was completely unnerving him. Whether there was something physical to it or that was all in his head remained to be seen. 

 

 

21
Ronan

 “Okay, Nostradamus. You want to explain to me what happened back there?” Ronan had barely shut the door to the Mustang before those words were out of his mouth.

“Hi, babe. How was your day?” Ten raised an eyebrow and pulled his seatbelt over his shoulder.

Ronan sighed. Okay, maybe he was being a bit of a pill. “Fine. I’m a rude bastard, but I’m worried about you. Can you blame me? You were standing out there, staring into space like Cindy Brady when the game show camera turned on.”

Tennyson burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s probably an apt description of how I looked. It’s Jude Byrne.”

“Don’t tell me you were standing there fantasizing about that golden-eyed Adonis.” Ronan rolled his blue eyes.

“Seriously, Ronan? You described him twice as Ironman and now as an Adonis and you think I’m the one having fantasies about him?”

Figuring the best defense was a good offense, Ronan turned the key in the ignition. “I’m sorry, babe. Were you able to get a read on him at all today?”

Ten shook his head. “No,” he whined. “I got nothing. What’s worse, he made me feel edgy. Not the way I do when you’re being annoying, but him being close to me put me on edge.”

“Like you were attracted to him? That kind of on edge?” Ronan wasn’t worried that Ten would leave him for the golden-eyed private dick, but he still needed to know what his newlywed husband was feeling.

Ten shook his head. “I really don’t know how to explain it. I’m on edge psychically, like there’s something about him that’s upsetting my sixth sense.”

“Upsetting like disturbing it?” Ronan pulled out of the parking lot and turned the car toward the highway. “Like there’s a disturbance in the force, Luke?”

Ten laughed. “Maybe. I’m thinking it’s time I talked to Carson and Cole about this. Bertha and Erin too if we can round everyone up.”

Ronan reached a hand out to Ten. “We’ll figure it out and even if we don’t, it’s not like we’re going to be stuck with this guy for the rest of our lives, right? We’ll finish the Hutchins case and then we’ll never have to see him again. Piece of cake.”

Ten had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach it wasn’t going to be that easy to get rid of Adonis Ironman, Jude Byrne.

***

An hour later, Ten and Ronan walked into absolute chaos at Truman and Carson’s house. From the sound of things, a fight was about to break out any second in their kitchen.

“The only way to cook a turkey is to brine it!” Fitzgibbon shouted. “It makes the meat more juicy.”

“Deep frying!” Truman hollered back.

“Whatever happened to stuffing it?” Carson challenged.

“I just want gobbler sammiches the next day,” Cole said.

“I want to spatchcock it, like Bobby Flay!” Greeley chimed in.

“What the hell is that?” Cassie practically screeched.

Ronan slapped a hand over his forehead. “You want to go away on a tropical vacation with this group of knuckleheads?”

“RO!” Laurel called out, as she toddled toward him on unsteady legs.

“Busted. Too late to go back home now.” Ronan scooped up Cole and Cassie’s daughter. “Hello, cutie pie. What’s all the fuss about?”

“Loud!” The two-year-old put her hands over her ears while Ronan carried her into Carson’s busy kitchen.

“Guys, what’s all the ruckus? My niece would like to file a formal complaint!” Ronan giggled and poked Laurel’s tummy.

The baby laughed and wrapped her arms around Ronan’s neck.

“We’re discussing Thanksgiving. Pull up a chair. I’ll grab you a bottle of water.” Truman moved to the fridge.

“Discussing?” Ten grimaced. “I’d hate to hear your definition of fighting. I could hear you from the sidewalk.”

“Well, why don’t you offer an opinion about the bird then.” Cole raised an eyebrow.

“I think they all sound good.”

“That’s such a cop out, Uncle Ten. Trying to be a people person.” Greeley waved a hand at him.

“I don’t think Ten was trying to cop out of anything,” Ronan said. “I think he sees an opportunity to start a family tradition.” Ronan took the bottle Truman was offering him.

“He does?” Greeley looked confused.

“Yeah, I do?” Ten looked equally confused. 

Ronan nodded, while he twisted the cap off his bottle of water. “Cap, you brine a bird. Tru, you deep fry one. Greeley will slap and tickle a bird, and Carson will do one the traditional way.”

“Uh, that’s spatchcock, Uncle Ronan.”

“Uh huh. That sounds like a made-up word to me. Just an excuse to say cock in mixed company.”

“Cock!” Laurel announced in her sweet little voice. 

“Nice going, butt wipe,” Cole muttered, yanking his daughter out of Ronan’s arms.

“Uncle of the year!” Ronan crowed. “Vote early. Vote often. Anyway, you all make the birds. Me and Ten and Cassie and Cole can make the sides. There will be plenty of turkey left over for sammiches and soup and casserole, or whatever else you crazy people want to do with it. What do you think?” Ronan looked around the kitchen.

“I like the idea of starting family traditions,” Carson said. “This is the babies’ first Thanksgiving. I was thinking of coming up with an idea that we could go with every year that they would think of as special.”

“Me too,” Truman agreed. “Having our crazy family around sure counts. I want lots of pictures of them with yams splattered all over their little faces.” Truman pressed a kiss to Carson’s face.

“Count us in.” Greeley pointed back and forth between himself and Fitzgibbon.

“Invite Jace,” Ten said.

Kevin blushed, but managed a brief nod. 

“Cole, what do you and Cassie think?” Ronan asked. 

“I don’t know.” He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s head. “Do you want to have Thanksgiving dinner with your loudmouthed Uncle Ronan, sweetie?”

“Ro!” Laurel shouted, reaching for the man in question.

“Ha!” Ronan plucked the toddler out of his arms. He peppered her face with kisses.

“Fine, we’re in too.” Cole laughed. “What kind of sides are we making?”

“Traditional stuff like mashed potatoes and gravy. Yams for Uncle Truman. Maybe a root veggie mash.” Cassie was all smiles.

“I like cornbread,” Ten chimed in. 

“Green bean casserole!” Truman called out. “The real thing though. Not that crap out of a can.”

“Bobby Flay has a kick ass recipe for that, Uncle Truman.” Greeley started tapping on his phone.

“Swear jar, buddy! You can be the one to research the recipe though.” Truman grinned. 

“I’ll do research on other recipes too. Thanksgiving sides from around the country. Same with dessert. I want to try pecan pie.”

“That’s my favorite too, honey,” Cassie smiled. “We’re trying pie orders for the first time this year at the bakery. Pecan is one of the pies I’m offering.”

“Do you need any help? I know a teenager with too much time on his hands.” Greeley pointed at himself. 

“Do you have any experience working in a bakery?” Cassie asked.

Greeley’s happy attitude deflated. “No, sorry.”

“You’re hired!” Cassie and Truman shouted together.

“I am?” Greeley looked shocked. 

“My mom always says if you can read, you can cook. Tomorrow morning 5am. I’ll put you to work.” Cassie slapped a hand on the teenager’s shoulder.

“Dad, can you drop me off?” The smile on Greeley’s face was so big, it practically split his face in half. 

Kevin nodded. “That’s about the time I need to leave for work anyway.”

“Awesome! Thanks guys.”

Ronan loved the look on Greeley’s face. He’d been talking about getting a part-time job and working at the bakery would be perfect. The holiday season was their busiest time. 

“So, we settled Thanksgiving and got Greeley a job. Anything else you all need my help with?” Ronan looked around the room. 

Standing next to him, Tennyson raised his hand.

 

 

22
Tennyson

Ten hated the idea of breaking the jovial party up with his problem. “I’ve got something I wanted to talk about. I’m not sure if you can help me though.”

“We’re here for you, Tenny!” Bertha Craig said from behind him. 

“Thanks, Bertha.” Tennyson was so happy to see her.

“Mimi!” Laurel screeched, reaching her chubby arms out to her grandmother. 

“Hello, little princess.” Bertha pressed a kiss to her oldest granddaughter’s head and then did the same to Ronan.

“She’s loving on me, isn't she?” Ronan asked.

“Yup.” Ten managed to laugh.

“It wouldn’t be a day ending in “Y” if I wasn’t loving on you, Handsome.” Bertha cackled.

“Oh, jeez, Mom. No wonder his ego is the size of Texas.” Carson sighed.

“She’s talking about my butt, right!” Ronan laughed. “Now that I’m running again, I’m getting some of my tone back.” He looked over his shoulder.

Cole groaned and slapped a hand over his face. Laurel mimicked him perfectly.

“Tell us what’s going on, Ten,” Truman said. 

“It’s this Jude Byrne. He’s the private investigator Thomas Hutchins has working on his murder appeal.”

Truman nodded and started tapping on the touchpad of his phone. 

“There’s something about him I can’t put my finger on but being near him puts my gift on edge. The strangest thing about him is that I can’t read him.”

Carson frowned. “Maybe he’s just one of those people whose good at blocking talent like us.”

“I thought so too when I met him at the prison the first time. Granted I was sick from all of the negative psychic energy of that place. I figured it was a combination of the bad energy and of me not feeling my best. Then when Ronan and I met with him again today, I was convinced it was more than that.”

“His real name is Judas Byrne,” Truman announced. Holding his phone up for everyone to see. “Says here that he’s originally from a place called Kingdom City, New Mexico.”

Ronan shivered. His eyes popped wide open. Laurel jiggled in his arms for a second before he settled her back against his hip again. 

“Jesus, are you okay?” Ten wrapped an arm around his husband. 

Ronan nodded. “It’s the name. You don’t hear it every day.”

“It’s a brave name, don’t you think?” Kevin asked. “Or named by a mother who has no obvious tie to Christianity.”

“Or has a darker tie,” Cole said. “Judas was a traitor. Maybe his mother saw her infant son as one too and that in combination with the name of the town? Kingdom City?”

Ten shook his head. “As interesting as the possible origin of his name is, that has no bearing on my inability to read him. Religion never has had any kind of effect on my gift.”

“Explain this to me, Tennyson,” Bertha said. “What exactly are you feeling when you try to read him?”

“The only way I can explain it is that he’s one big, blank page. When the babies were newborns, they were so peaceful to hold because they had pure auras and no spirits glommed on to them. They had no real thoughts to read, but I could still hear other spirits and feel other psychic vibrations around me. They were the closest thing I could get to quiet time until Madam Aurora taught me how to shut down my gift on command. Jude is different though. He’s like a dead zone.”

Carson and Cole exchanged a silent look.

“What?” Ten asked. He could feel his anxiety starting to ratchet up. 

“It’s probably nothing,” Carson said. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Cole echoed. 

“JFC, guys spill it. You’re scaring the bleep out of me.” Ronan cuddled Laurel tighter.

“KFC!” Laurel announced. She turned a big smile at Ronan.

Ronan laughed and pressed a raspberry to her neck, making the baby squeal with laughter. 

“Shifters.” Carson looked over at Bertha.

“What?” Ronan’s mouth dropped open “You’ve got to be shitting me. Those are just dirty books that I read when I’m bored, about werewolves and werebears and dragons getting it on.”

“All fiction is rooted in truth somewhere,” Carson said quietly. “And I’m not necessarily talking about wolf shifters.”

“What do you mean you’re not necessarily talking about wolf shifters. What else is there?” Ronan wore a look of alarm tinged with interest.

Carson exchanged a silent look with Cole. “Not shifters in the traditional sense where people are bursting out in fur or scales.”

Ronan opened his mouth, but Tennyson held up a hand to stop him. 

“Okay, so let’s say shifters are real,” Ten took a deep breath. This was a pretty big leap for him here. “What does that have to do with me not being able to read Jude Byrne?”

“If the myths are real, people like that can’t be read by people with our gifts,” Carson said quietly. “Truman just said Jude was from New Mexico, that could explain what’s going on here. Native American tribes from that part of the country have mythology about spirit animals.”

“You mean like totems? An animal spirit guide?” Tennyson asked.  That made a lot more sense to him than people magically transforming into a panther or a T-Rex.

Cole shrugged. “Like Carson said, a lot of myth is rooted in truth.”

“Bertha, you’re awfully quiet.” Tennyson looked up at his mentor.

“I don’t have much to say here. Native American spirit dinosaurs aren’t exactly in my wheelhouse. I liked it better when we were talking about starting family traditions and my little munchkin was calling my name. If you want my advice on this Byrne character, try getting to know him instead of trying to antagonize him. It could just be he’s one of those people who doesn’t like psychics and has an extra high wall up against you, Tennyson.”

“What’s my secret love saying, Ten?” Ronan asked.

Ten snorted. “She thinks we should get to know Jude in case he’s mistrustful of psychics and has a high wall up.”

“Oh damn, Bertha! Just when I thought we were building something, you had to go and ruin it by saying something like that. Jude Byrne is the most egotistical, high and mighty butt munch I’ve ever met in my life.”

“The two of you obviously have a lot in common then. Toodles!” Bertha was gone.

Tennyson burst out laughing. He couldn’t argue with Bertha’s logic but wasn’t about to share it with his husband either.

“Butt munch!” Laurel crowed, raising her little fist high in the air.

 

 

23
Ronan

Ronan was lying in bed with his laptop and Dixie. She was resting her head on Ronan’s arm. Tennyson was finishing up in the shower. Ten had invited Ronan to join him, but in an uncharacteristic move, Ronan had declined.

He’d spent the last twenty minutes going back and forth between candied yam recipes, thinking about why he wasn’t in the mood to ravish his husband in the shower, and the possibility that shifters were a real thing. Who the fuck knew?

He looked down at Dixie who was staring at him with her big dark eyes. “You’re not going to turn into a person, Dix, are you? Be some tiny naked woman with boobs and whatever else you got going on downstairs?” Ronan grimaced.

“What is wrong with you?” Ten asked from the bathroom door. He was wearing blue and red flannel pants and a weird look on his face.

“This shifter thing has me freaked out. I was just wondering if I was gonna wake up and Dixie would be gone and, in her place, would be a naked woman.”

“That’s why you wouldn’t take a shower with me?” Tennyson sat down on the edge of the bed. Dixie scampered over Ronan and the laptop to get to him. “That’s my girl. Daddy Ronan’s lost his mind. Hasn’t he?”

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Ronan turned the computer around to show Ten all of the recipes he’d been reading.

“Why are you looking at ten recipes for the same thing?” Ten rested his head on Ronan’s shoulder.

“In addition to shifters, I was thinking about Thanksgiving too.”

“You don’t think the turkey’s gonna turn into a naked man, do you?” Ten lifted his head up to look his husband in the eye.

“No, don’t be ridiculous. In all of the books I’ve read, shape-shifters only seem to be predators.”

“I beg your pardon, but to a wild berry, a turkey is a predator.” Ten pressed a kiss to Ronan’s neck and settled back down to his shoulder.

“Okay, Jack Hanna. I meant the shifters I read about are carnivores: wolves, panthers, bears, lions. I guess I don’t understand what Carson and Cole were talking about and that’s what’s got me rattled. So, instead of showering with my gorgeous man, I was looking up spirit animals and wondering if Dixie was one.”

Ten laughed. “Native American mythology is fascinating. The idea of spirit animals has more to do with the lessons we can learn from that animal and people identifying with the animal than anything else. There are some myths that say the Native Americans were born from animals and therefore have animal blood in them.”

“You’re saying that’s where the shifter stories come from?”

Ten nodded against Ronan’s shoulder.

“If that were really true, if Jude Byrne theoretically had mountain lion or Gila monster or road runner blood in him, why wouldn’t you be able to read him?”

“I don’t know, Ronan. Why do I lose Elvis Radio on XM when I’m stopped at the light near Bank of America on Essex Street?”

“There’s gotta be something in the bank that interferes with the signal.” Ronan paused and thought about that for a minute. “Jude Byrne is your kryptonite. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Maybe he isn’t, but something inside of him is.” Ten shifted and pulled Ronan’s computer closer. He clicked off the Native American mythology pages Ronan was looking at and clicked back over to the recipes. “Why are candied yams so important?”

“All of that talk at Carson’s about starting family traditions got me thinking about our little miss. She will be born into established family traditions by the time she gets here and I want them to be good ones.”

“And that starts with yams?” Ten turned to look at his husband.

Ronan nodded. He blinked up at the ceiling hoping Tennyson wouldn’t see the emotion in his eyes. “When I was growing up it was just me and my mom and her parents for Thanksgiving. It was the same generic meal every year, turkey, stuffing, squash, mashed potatoes, gravy and cranberry sauce. It was the yams that made it special. The recipe had been handed down from Grammy’s family back in Ireland. It was never written down and when my mom died, the recipe died with her. That’s why I’ve been looking at every recipe on the internet. I’m trying to find the one that is the closest match.”

“Babe, all I have to do is ask Erin about the recipe the next time she stops in to see me. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to pass it down to us, especially when she hears why you want it.”

Ronan wiped his eyes. “It was such an amazing thing getting to talk to her the morning of our wedding, Ten. We only had a few minutes together, but aside from saying, ‘I do,’ it was the best part of the day. I miss her so damn much.”

Ten slipped an arm around Ronan’s chest. “I know you do, sweetheart. I know how much she wishes she were here with us too. Which of course brings me to a rather uncomfortable question.”

Ronan snorted and started to laugh. He knew exactly what question Tennyson was going to ask him. “It’s about Kaye. Isn’t it?”

Ten nodded. “I know she’s settling in back in Kansas to her new life without my father. She’s working twenty hours a week at the shelter and trying to figure out which animal she wants to adopt. She’s driving to church and having dinner at the Main Street Café again. I just wonder if she’d want to come out here for Thanksgiving.”

Ronan sighed. Having Kaye out here for the few days after their wedding had been an exercise in patience. Thankfully, Truman and Carson had been kind enough to take her on and play host. Greeley had played tour guide, when he wasn’t busy helping Fitzgibbon move into their new house. He knew what the right answer was in his heart, even if his brain was not on board with that plan. “If you want to invite her out here, I’m willing to pay the price.”

“What?” Ten shot him an angry look.

Realizing what he’d said had a double or even a triple meaning, Ronan sat up and pushed the computer onto the comforter. “No, I mean I’ll pay for her ticket. She’s more than welcome to stay in the guest room. Although I’m sure she’d be happier with Greeley and Fitzgibbon.”

“What if she doesn’t want to come, Ronan?”

It was entirely possible Kaye wouldn’t want to come to Boston twice in a month for a number of reasons, one of which was that she was still struggling with the fact that her son was gay and now married to a man. “If she doesn’t come then we make new traditions and amazing memories with the family that is here celebrating with us.”

Ten nodded and rested his head on his husband’s shoulder.

 

 

24
Tennyson

Ronan was scowling over his phone when Tennyson walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Well good morning to you too, grumpy cat.”

“It’s not you. It’s Ironman.” Ronan’s demeanor didn’t brighten when he glanced up at his husband.

“What’s he want now? A date at the roller skating rink?” Tennyson laughed.

“No,” Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “He wants us to find some way into Lorraine McAlpin’s house.”

Ten’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding me.” How on earth were they going to find a way into Lorraine’s house? “So, does he want us to just come right out and tell her family we’re working for the defense team of her convicted killer? Or does he want us to break in like cat burglars?”

“Oh, it gets better from there. He also wants us to speak to her family. ‘Dig up some dirt,’ was how he put it.”

“He’s out of his Gila monster mind.” Ten threw his hands up in the air. “I’m making tea. Do you want a cup?”

“Hell, no! If I need to convince a murdered woman’s mother to let us poke around in her life, I’m gonna need something with higher octane than green tea.” Ronan strode across the kitchen and pulled his husband into his arms. “Good morning.”

Ten kissed him hard. “Good morning to you too, caveman.” Ten studied his husband for a minute. “If you were a shifter, what kind would you want to be?”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “You don’t get to pick. You’re born a wolf or a panther. If I could pick, I’d want to be a dragon.”

“Of course, you would. Magnificent and silver scaled, sitting on your pile of treasure, able to breathe fire and incinerate your enemies.” Ten knew that would be Ronan’s best-case scenario.

“Hmm, maybe that’s what Jude is, a dragon. Byrne. He’s got those golden eyes that turn kind of fiery when he’s pissed off. I bet that’s it. I bet his spirit animal is a dragon. Or he’s an actual dragon and that’s why you can’t read him.”

Ten was starting to wish he hadn’t asked Ronan what kind of shifter he would be if he could choose. “Dragons aren’t real, Ronan.” If they were, he was going to need something stronger than green tea to talk about it.

“Hey, Carson was the one who said all myth is based in fact. What if he’s not a dragon like Smaug or like modern mythology portrays, but it’s something else? More like the Chinese myths portray, smaller and more snake-like?”

“I suppose it’s possible. What’s more important is Lorraine McAlpin. We can deal with Fiery Dick later.”

Ronan burst out laughing. “Okay, fine, but we’re not done talking about him being a dragon. Promise me.”

Ten couldn’t help feeling like his husband was a giant toddler half the time. What was next? Pinkie swearing? “I promise we’ll talk about this shifter business again after I get a chance to spend more time with Jude, okay?”

Ronan held up his left pinkie finger.

“Seriously, Ronan?” Ten sighed dramatically but wrapped his little finger around Ronan’s.

“You know you love me.”

Ten knew it too. “How are we going to get Lorraine McAlpin’s mother to talk to us?” Ten skipped right over inflating Ronan’s ego. It was big enough as it was.

“That’s the easiest part of all of this. You’re going to offer to do a reading.”

Ronan was right. The reading was the easiest part. What was harder was getting their foot in the door. “How do you propose we approach her? Ring the doorbell and offer her a reading like we’re some kind of door-to-door psychics, like the Jehovah’s Witnesses or Avon ladies?”

“Okay, I guess I didn’t think about that. Mrs. McAlpin is going to want to know why a Cold Case Detective and a psychic are showing up on her doorstep when her daughter’s murderer has already been tried and convicted.”

“Tank was convicted two years ago. His first parole hearing isn’t for another twenty-three years. Think about that, Ronan. These people have settled back into some semblance of normal life. If we go and knock on their door out of the blue, we’re going to blast that new normal to hell.” Ten knew the McAlpins probably thought about their daughter every day, but Tank Hutchins was probably the furthest thing from their minds.

“You may have a point. Those people are also gonna blow a gasket when they find out we’re working for Tank.”

Ten frowned. “Explain something to me.”

“Anything.”

“You just said that the McAlpins are going to blow a gasket and I agree with you. They totally are. Don’t they want to see justice served here as much as we do or do they just want a warm body in prison serving time for Lorraine’s murder?”

Ronan was silent. He tapped his index finger on the kitchen counter. “You know what it’s like to go through a criminal investigation. We do all of the leg work, identify a suspect and find evidence to prove that this person committed the crime, right?”

Ten nodded, not wanting to interrupt Ronan’s train of thought.

“The murder victim’s family is along for that same ride in all of this. The detectives who investigated Lorraine’s murder identified Tank Hutchins as the suspect. They found enough evidence to have an arrest warrant sworn out, a grand jury voted to indict Tank and the case went to trial. The McAlpins spent the entire year leading up to the trial thinking that Hutchins was the killer. Then the trial starts, and they hear all the evidence against him. Lastly, the jury convicts him. Do you see where I’m going with this, Ten?”

“I do. You’re saying that the McAlpins have had the last three years to think of Tank as Lorraine’s murderer. It’s just that you see stories on Dateline where the cops and the family of the murder victim continue to think the innocent man was the killer long after other evidence is uncovered proving otherwise.”

“What I just explained to you is the reason why people get it stuck in their heads. It’s not just the emotional family, but the detectives who invest time and themselves in these cases that can fall victim to that trap too. Just because we know Tank is innocent doesn’t mean the McAlpins are going to be happy to hear it. If he’s innocent, then who killed Lorraine? Now there’s no one to pay for her senseless murder.”

“An eye for an eye,” Tennyson muttered.

Ronan shrugged. “It might not be right, but when you’ve been wronged, it’s one hell of a platitude to hang your grievances on.”

Ten couldn’t argue with that. “When does Jude want to meet?”

“Whenever we’re free.”

“Good, tell him to meet us up here. It’s high time the rest of the gang meets him, Carson, Cole, and Fitzgibbon especially. If he wants us to do something for him, he’s gonna have to work for it.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “That your version of an eye for an eye?”

“Yeah, maybe so. I think we’re going to need to use him to get our foot in the door with Lorraine’s family.”

Ronan grinned from ear to ear. “What do you mean?”

“What if we set Jude loose on them? He uses his usual brand of charm on them and then we sweep in like heroes to clean up his mess.”

“That’s pretty devious, Ten. Just because he’s an asshole to me, doesn’t mean he’s going to treat everyone like that. I can’t imagine him being a total dick to the grieving family of a murder victim.”

“I thought you hated this guy?” Ten was confused. If anyone could grease the wheels here, it had to be Jude. Didn’t it?

“You have to admit I’m a dick at times too. It’s part of my unique charm and half of the reason you fell in love with me.”

Ten grumbled a half-assed, “Maybe.” It was all he was willing to concede.

“Like attracts like, as my mother would say. It’s probably why Jude and I bounce off each other the way we do. We’re too much like each other. Only he’s a bit more gruff and closed down than I am. Why don’t we invite him up here, let him meet everyone, and then ask him what he thinks about getting in to see Lorraine’s family?”

Ten shook his head. “When the hell did you turn peacemaker?”

“Must be osmosis from sleeping next to you every night. What can I say? You make me a better man just by standing next to me.” Ronan pressed a gentle kiss to Tennyson’s temple. “Dixie, my little pixie? Who’s ready for walkies?” Ronan sang out.

An excited bark sounded from under the kitchen table as Dixie scrambled to her feet and raced toward Ronan.

Ten watched in stunned silence as Ronan hooked their excited puppy up to her harness and led her toward the front door.

 

 

25
Ronan

It turned out it wasn’t as much of a hassle for Jude Byrne to meet at their house as Tennyson hoped it would be for the private investigator. He lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts which was only a twenty-six-mile drive to Salem. Jude had seemed upbeat about making the trip especially when Ronan mentioned providing dinner.

He’d run out to the grocery store and grabbed the biggest, juiciest rib-eyes he could find. Dragons loved red meat according to every shifter novel he’d read, so he was going to tempt the dragon with what he loved. He’d also grabbed baking potatoes and fixings for a salad in case he’d completely gone off the deep end with this dragon bullshit.

Fitzgibbon and the Craig brothers were coming for dinner, so they’d be able to get their two cents in as well when it came to the mysterious private dick. Ronan snorted. Before long he was laughing out loud.

“What’s so funny?” Ten looked around the empty kitchen and then behind himself. Dixie was sitting at his heels staring up at him.

Ronan shook his head.

“This isn’t good if you’re alone in a room and laughing hysterically? Are you hearing voices? Seeing things that aren’t there? Have you lost your shit?”

Ronan shook his head again, this time making the universal gesture for jacking off.

“Well, fuck you and everyone who looks like you too, sweet cheeks!” Ten grinned at his husband suddenly turned hyena.

Ronan took a deep breath, desperate to share the joke with Ten. “Byrne,” he managed to gasp.

“I should have known that dick was involved in this somewhere.” Ten rolled his eyes.

Ronan, still laughing too hard to talk, tapped his nose and pointed to Tennyson.

“Dick? This has to do with the dick?” Ten narrowed his eyes.

Ronan nodded.

“Private dick?” Ten guessed.

“Yessss!” Ronan managed.

“What the hell is so funny about a private dick?”

“Aren’t all dicks private?” Ronan finally said.

“Unless you’re a porn star.” Ten cocked his head to the side, as if he were thinking hard about public dicks. “Or a flasher.”

Ronan started laughing again. He was about to suggest guys who piss in public, but the doorbell rang.

“Christ, he’s not one of those early dicks, is he?” That’s all they needed was for Jude to be this early. Carson wasn’t even here yet with the food.

“No, it’s Carson and Truman.  I’ll get it. You stay here and keep obsessing over dicks.”

“That’s what I do all the time anyway!” Ronan called back. It was true. Most of the time, anyway. 

“Da Da Da Da!” Came little shouts from the living room.

“Oh, good, Jude is here!” Ronan crowed as he walked into the living room. 

“Ronan, it’s the babies. They’ve learned how to say my name,” Truman rolled his eyes.

“Ah, in case you’ve forgotten, husband, Daddy is my name too.” Carson was laying down a blanket and setting out toys for the now ten-month old triplets. 

“They’re obviously talking to me, wife!” Truman shot back, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Oh good, so this is going to be a multi-dick party then.” Ronan scooped baby Bertha up and snuggled her close. “You know, if you just learned how to say, ‘Ro,’ you’d save everyone a lot of hassle.”

“Eeee!” Bertha screeched instead. 

“Mimi’s here, isn’t she, princess? Just what we need. The perfect person to judge the biggest dick contest.” Ronan rolled his eyes heavenward. 

“Still heavyweight champion,” Carson said with a grimace. “Mom, I sure the hell hope Ronan’s a metaphorical heavyweight champion.”

Tennyson burst out laughing. 

“What did she say, Ten?” Ronan asked. He could feel a blush creeping up his neck. 

“I’ll tell you later.” Ten’s face was flaming like a lobster that had just come out of a pot. 

“Where do you want the cold cut platter?” Truman asked, once the babies were settled on the floor.

“In the kitchen.” Ronan led the way after he set the baby down with her siblings. He’d picked up rolls, condiments, and chips earlier in the day. They’d figured it would be easier to have a do-it-yourself sandwich bar, rather than calling out from Greek Life.

“What’s news?” Truman asked, after he set the platter down.

“It’s so weird being on this side of a case.” Ronan shook his head. He still couldn’t believe they were helping a convicted killer, rather than the grieving family of the victim.

“Tennyson said he’s innocent though, right?” Truman wore a look that said that was all that was important to him.

“Yeah, but Lorraine McAlpin is still dead.” At the end of the day, Ronan knew that was the only fact that would matter to the McAlpin family.

“I get that, but you’re still on the side of justice.”

That was true enough. He and Tennyson were now turning their efforts toward trying to exonerate an innocent man. “The piece of the puzzle that we’re missing is usually the first one we place.”

“Talking to the victim?”

“Right. Ten and I can’t seem to come up with a way to convince Lorraine McAlpin’s family to let us read her spirit, so we haven’t reached out to them yet.”

“If I can help you with that, will you change my name to Genius Dick in your phone?” Jude Byrne asked from the kitchen door.

Ronan burst out laughing. 

 

 

26
Tennyson

Tennyson couldn’t decide if letting Jude in to the kitchen without telling Ronan he was here was a good idea or one that would get him spanked later. Either way, he was going to come out a winner.

When he heard Ronan laughing his ass off, he knew he’d made the right decision. Jude had gotten to the house at the same time as Fitzgibbon and Greeley. They hadn’t rung the doorbell, they’d just walked in. Ronan would have had no idea Kevin and Greeley, let alone the dick of the hour, were here. 

“What the hell is their issue anyway?” Carson asked, pointing toward the kitchen. “Doesn’t Ronan know they’re destined to be BFFs?”

“Jesus Christ, Carson! Whatever you do, don’t tell Ronan that.” Fitzgibbon laughed. 

“I disagree.” Greeley wore a wicked grin. “Tell him, but make sure you’re recording it. We could win a lot of money on Funny Videos! Of course ABC would have to beep out most of the words in order to show it on the air...”

“Let’s go see what’s so funny.” Tennyson picked up Brian from the floor and headed toward the kitchen. He knew the babies’ reaction to their guest would go a long way to telling the tale of Jude Byrne.

“Marry me, Bertha?” Greeley tickled the baby and scooped her up from the floor. 

“That boy is a natural. Just like you, Tennyson.” Bertha Craig said from behind him.

“Christ, Bertha. Don’t tell Fitzgibbon that. Let’s hope there are a lot of years before we see Greeley with one of his own.”

“I thought the boy was a bone tooter? It’s not like he’s gonna go out and make one of those the old-fashioned way.” Bertha patted Tennyson’s shoulder. “Sometimes I worry about you, Tenny.”

Carson was standing in the kitchen doorway with a shocked look on his face. “All I heard was bone tooter and not going to make one of those the old-fashioned way. Do I want to even know what my mother was talking about?”

“Greeley.” Ten laughed. 

“Of course. Who else would she have been talking about but a seventeen-year-old, gay boy. Jesus Christ.” Carson carded a hand through his blond hair.

“What do you think of Jude?” Tennyson half-whispered.

“He’s hella gorgeous. He knows it too. Man, those eyes...” Carson trailed off as if he were in a trance.

“Are you going to pick up your daughter or leave her on the floor for Dixie to watch?” Ten couldn’t help but laugh over the way Dixie was standing at Stephanie’s head, standing guard. The baby kept reaching for the puppy’s ears, which Dixie would perk up at the last second to keep out of her pudgy grasp.

“What?” Carson shook his head. 

“Your baby.” Ten pointed. 

“Hmm.” Carson scooped her up. “Those eyes, Ten.”

“Are you in an actual trance?” Ten shifted Bertha to one hip and waved his free hand in front of Carson’s eyes. “What’s our secret code word?”

“Seriously? Prickly pear.” Carson looked like he thought Ten had lost his marbles.

Ten relaxed a bit. “Would you still be able to remember their code word if Jude were exercising some form of mind control over you?” Ten whispered.

“I’m not exercising mind control!” The dick in question shouted. “Can we eat please? I’m so hungry that this little baby is looking quite tasty!”

“That dirty bastard!” Carson raced into the kitchen.

Jude was sitting at the dining room table and laughing his ass off. “Guys, I know what’s going on here.”

“We’re about to grab pitchforks and torches,” Carson said, with his dander up.

“Why don’t we grab some food instead?” Truman offered. He pried the plastic lid off the cold cut tray. 

“Good idea.” Ronan opened the chip bags and started grabbing condiments out of the fridge. 

“Oh, and by the way, I have supersonic hearing or whatever.” Jude flashed Tennyson a wicked grin. “You wanted your friends to check me out, right, O’Mara?” Jude asked.

“Something like that,” Ronan admitted. 

“Why?” Jude seemed genuinely surprised. “I’ve been a P.I. here in Massachusetts for three years now. My license is in good standing. Bradford Hicks wouldn’t have hired me to work on such a high-profile case if my credentials weren’t stellar. So, what the hell is your problem?”

The room went silent. Everyone looked around at each other without making eye contact with Jude. 

“Come on people. I’m clean. I don’t eat kids and I don’t have a hump on my back. Yeah, I can be a bit surly at times, but that’s no crime.” Jude looked around the still quiet room.