Dead Silent (Cold Case Psychic Book 3) by Pandora Pine (3)

Ronan hoped Shawn’s face hurt like a motherfucker. “I’m on your father’s side. Which all of you seem to have forgotten here. Someone murdered Harold. Now whether he deserved it or not is irrelevant. He’s dead. Someone killed him. It’s my job to figure out who did it.” Ronan took a deep breath. “Here’s the kicker though, insurance companies don’t like it when policy beneficiaries turn out to be murderers. If your mother or your sister killed Harold, the money has to be paid back to the insurance company.”

“What are you saying?” Shawn gave his wife a confused look.

“That tuition money your mother’s been giving Ophelia? If Maxine killed your father and then gave Ophelia the insurance payout money, guess who’s on the hook to pay it back?” Asshole… Ronan couldn’t help grinning like a fool at the dumbass sitting in front of him.

“You’re fucking lying!” Shawn snarled.

“Hell if I am.” Ronan shrugged his broad shoulders. “You’re going to need a lawyer to help you through the arraignment process after your arrest tonight. Ask him if what I just told you is true.” Ronan started to whistle as he walked out of Shawn’s hospital room door. He burst out laughing a moment later when Shawn’s outraged bellow followed him down the hall.

 

 

 

21
Tennyson

Ten felt a bit of nerves flare up as he walked with another officer from the Portsmouth Police Department. On the one hand, he was thrilled that Ronan trusted him to interview mother and daughter by himself, but on the other hand, the pair could be a bit intimidating.

“This is the room Mr. Grimm. Be careful, these two are hellcats,” Officer Timmons warned.

“You’ll be waiting right here?” Ten also noticed there was another officer stationed at the room.

“We both will. It’s regulations neither of them can be left unattended,” Timmons said.

“Thank you. Hopefully, I won’t need either of you.” Ten said a silent prayer and entered the room. He gasped when he saw mother and daughter. Ten wasn’t a doctor, but he knew a broken nose when he saw one.

Hope’s nose was triple its usual size and was stuffed full of gauze. Her shirt was covered in blood. Both eyes were already showing signs of bruising. Not an attractive woman by any stretch of the imagination, two black eyes were certainly not going to help her cause. “Hi, Hope.”

“He-woah, Mis-tah Gwimm.” Hope said, her voice hampered by her swollen nose.

Sweet Mary mother of God…  “It looks like you’ve had a rough day.”

“No good deed goes unpunished,” Maxine said from the chair near her bed.

Tennyson turned to get a good look at Maxine and couldn’t help gasping. The older woman had a large bruise on her cheek which had darkened into an ugly brownish-black color.  “Are you okay, Maxine?”

“My asshole son and his wife did this to me. Can you believe that?”

Yes, Ten could absolutely believe it. “What caused him to hit you? Both of you actually?”

“It was a test.” Maxine replied. She touched the side of her face before reaching into her purse and pulling out two birthday cards in green envelopes. She fanned them out so Ten could see the writing on the envelopes. Shawn’s name was written on them in two different styles of handwriting.

Ten assumed one card was from each of the women. “What was a test?” He knew the story about what had happened today was going to be a good one, but he had no idea it was going to be a mystery as well.

“Ophelia has been wanting to see us get back together with Shawn and Debbie. After all, they’re the only family we have left, aside from her. Hope bought her a car when she went off to college, so we see her from time to time. Usually, we meet each other for lunch on her school holidays and a couple of times during the summer.” Maxine looked over at her daughter who was managing to smile despite the obvious pain she was in.

“She’s a goop kip.” Hope said.

Ten assumed “goop kip” meant “good kid.” Ten grabbed his phone and motioned to Hope. She nodded and he took a couple of snaps of her injury before doing the same thing with the bruise on Maxine’s face.

“We were surprised when Shawn invited us over to celebrate his birthday and we thought the fight was over and maybe it was time to let the past be in the past. It’s been twenty years since we’ve been a real family, so we needed to make sure that Shawn and Debbie were being sincere and not just grubbing for money.”

It all made sense to Tennyson now. “There were two sets of birthday cards, weren’t there, Maxine?”

Maxine nodded. “The first set of cards were in red envelopes and were just signed with our love. If Shawn smiled and said thank you or hugged us, then out would come the green envelopes.” She held them out to Tennyson. “Go on, open them. I suppose they need to be entered into evidence anyway. We’ll just cancel the checks in the morning.”

Ten took both envelopes. “Are you sure you want me to open these?”

Both women nodded. “Okay.” Ten opened the first card, which pictured a sunset and offered a brother warmest birthday wishes. Not bothering to read the sentiment inside, Ten went right for the check, which was addressed to Shawn Owens in the amount of ten thousand dollars. “Holy shit, Hope. This is quite a generous gift.” He fished his phone back out of his pocket and took a picture of the check.

She nodded, tears glittered in her blackened eyes.

Ten put the check back into the card which he stuffed back into the envelope. He opened the next card which was from Maxine. The amount written on that check was for twenty-five thousand dollars. “Wow, Maxine, I’m stunned.” Ten took a photo of this check as well. Ronan was going to want to see this.

The woman shrugged. “Shawn would have been too if he wasn’t such a greedy bastard. Obviously, I failed in so many ways as a wife and a mother. Here I am, in my seventies, battered, and under arrest for assault and battery.” She shook her head as if it were still all too much for her to believe.

“You’ve both been discharged from the hospital,” Officer Timmons said as he came back into the room. “We’re going to transport you to jail for the night.” He reached for his handcuffs.

Ten pulled him aside. “Is that really necessary with the extent of their injuries and Mrs. Owens age? I think they’ll come quietly, so long as Shawn and Debbie are nowhere in sight.”

Timmons nodded. “Come with me, ladies.”

Ten watched while both women were led out of the room. Maxine gave him a grateful nod. He couldn’t help wondering what was next for these two women. It also crossed his mind that he might have just begged Officer Timmons to show mercy to a cold-blooded killer.

Life would be so much easier if he could just ask Harold Owens who bashed his head in with a two-by-four.

 

 

 

 

22
Ronan

 “They were going to give him thirty-five thousand dollars?” Fitzgibbon’s mouth was hanging open as he flipped back and forth between Tennyson’s pictures on Ronan’s phone.

“I couldn’t believe it either until Ten showed me the pictures.” It almost had him thinking he should have been nicer to the old lady like Tennyson had been. He wouldn’t mind getting the hell out of his shitty apartment in Dorchester. Money like that would have gone a long way to accomplishing that goal.

“Reminds me of some Reader’s Digest story I read way back where this kid had been begging his father for a car for graduation all through high school and when the day finally came, his father gave him a Bible. Well, the kid threw a fit and told his father off. He never spoke to his dad again after that day.”

“Let me guess, the key to the car was taped inside the front cover of the book?” Ronan said.

Fitzgibbon nodded. “You heard that story too?”

“I think it was a sermon in church. It hits all the big themes about being grateful and finding forgiveness in your heart and looking for answers in God, blah, blah, blah…” Ronan rolled his eyes. “How does the story end the way you heard it?” Ronan studied the captain.

“I think the kid finds out about what his father did for him when he comes home for his funeral,” Fitzgibbon said.

Ronan frowned. What a stupid story. All those years of wasted time and anger for no reason other than stubbornness. “Learn the lesson well, cap. If you get Greeley a car, just hand him the damn keys. Making people pass tests is never a good idea.”

“Did this little field trip to the emergency room bring you closer to figuring out who killed Harold Owens?”

That was the bad news he had for his boss this morning. “No. All three of them still seem like viable suspects. Just because Hope and Maxine seemed willing to finally cut Shawn in on the insurance money, doesn’t mean they didn’t kill Harold to get it in the first place. It just means they’re trying to mend broken fences for Ophelia’s sake.”

“What happened yesterday certainly didn’t help with that. In addition to Shawn and Debbie being arraigned for assault and battery and resisting arrest this morning, Ophelia also moved out of the house.” Fitzgibbon pushed the folder on his desk over to Ronan.

Ronan picked it up and skimmed through its contents. The Rockingham County District Attorney declined to file charges against Hope and Maxine. She stated that both women were simply defending themselves from harm. “This is unbelievable. While her parents were in court, Ophelia was having her grandmother cosign a lease on an off-campus apartment in Durham, New Hampshire.”

“From what I understand, it’s just down the street from her class buildings at UNH. It’s a safe neighborhood and Maxine paid the rent through Ophelia’s graduation day next year.” Fitzgibbon sounded impressed.

“Captain, if this money is…”

Fitzgibbon held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say, Ronan. There’s nothing we can do about it. If Maxine killed Harold, then the insurance companies that paid out those policies on him will have to battle Maxine for the money back. If she’s smart, she’s hidden the bulk of it somewhere untouchable, like in the Caymans or in Switzerland.”

Ronan nodded. Maxine was a smart woman. If she killed her husband, she had to know this day would come. Ronan had to believe she was prepared for it.

“What’s your next move here?” Fitzgibbon’s voice snapped him out of his own mind.

“Ten and I need to go see Vann Hoffman to go over the original autopsy report with him. There’s not much sense trying to exhume him at this point.”

“I agree. What about trace evidence?” Fitzgibbon opened the original case file and flipped through the pages.

“We’re waiting to hear back from the lab on that.”

“I’ll make some calls. See if I can light some fires under some asses.” Fitzgibbon shut the file. “How’s Tennyson? That was a pretty intense session last night.”

Fitzgibbon didn’t know the half of it. Not that Ronan was going to fill him in. “When we got home last night, he was feeling so relaxed and happy. So many people are telling him that his gift isn’t gone permanently, that it’s just blocked and I know that’s helping him. But…”

“But, you think there’s going to come a point in time where that’s not going to be enough anymore?”

Ronan grinned at his boss. Fitzgibbon was a very perceptive man. “Exactly. He isn’t saying it, but I know he keeps thinking that it will be back when he wakes up in the morning. Every day that we wake up and it’s still gone is starting to take a toll on him. He’s putting on a brave face for his friends and me to see, but there are moments when that mask slips and I see what this is really doing to him.”

“Don’t tell him I said this, but all of us see that mask slip. The smile that’s painted on just a little too brightly or the frustration in his eyes when he thinks no one is looking. I’ve seen it too.”

“I appreciate you telling me. The reason he’s not with me this morning is that he had things to catch up with at the shop. At least that’s what he told me. I wonder if it’s just an excuse for him not to come to work with me.”

“Is there trouble between the two of you?” Concern lit Fitzgibbon’s green eyes.

“No, things are solid with us, it’s just that Ten thinks this case would have been a slam dunk if his gift was intact.”

“What do you mean?”

“He thinks that all he would have had to do is talk to Harold Owens and bada-bing, bada-boom, case closed.”

Fitzgibbon leaned forward in his seat. He seemed to be thinking about what Ronan said. “What if the killer struck Harold while he was asleep? Or from behind? If either of those scenarios were the case, Harold wouldn’t have known who killed him.”

Ronan hadn’t considered that. He doubted very much Tennyson had either. “I’ll mention that to him. It’s not going to make him feel any better, I imagine.”

“I don’t imagine every murder victim knows who killed them.”

“I don’t think so either. I just want Ten to get his gift back so things can get back to normal around here.”

Fitzgibbon laughed. “Me too. God help me, Ronan, but me too.”

 

 

 

23
Tennyson

Tennyson and Carson were sitting at the patio table in Carson’s back yard drinking lemonade and eating Caesar salads Truman had made for them before he’d left to take the babies and Sadie for a walk around the neighborhood.

“This homemade dressing is so good!” Ten was licking it off his fork. If he were home alone, he’d be licking it off the plate.

“It’s Bobby Flay’s recipe or something. Truman loves those celebrity chefs. I’ll have him email it to Ronan so he can be a hero in the kitchen again.” Carson waggled his eyebrows.

Ten laughed. “Did you know that Truman bought Ronan a book about making up with your lover? That’s where he got the idea of cooking for me. There was a chapter in the book about doing that for your man.”

Carson poured them each another glass of lemonade. “No, I didn’t know Truman had done that, but it doesn’t surprise me. When I met him, the only real friend he had was Cassie. I think something really clicked with him and Ronan. Tru only has sisters and where Ronan was an only child, I think Truman sees them as brothers the same way Cole and I see you as the missing third Craig brother.”

Ten always felt like he was a member of Carson’s family. Hearing Carson say that made him miss Bertha more.

“She’s always with you, man. I haven’t seen as much of her these last few weeks because she’s been with you.” Carson rubbed Ten’s left shoulder.

“I know she is. It’s just hard not being able to talk to her. We used to chat every day. Same with me and Ronan’s mom. It’s like I’ve lost them, like they’re gone the way they would be for regular people.” Ten could feel his emotions starting to get the best of him again.

“It’s not that you’re only missing your gift and being able to come to work with us and with Ronan, but you feel like you’re grieving the loss of my mom and Erin?”

“It’s that exactly. I know I was extraordinarily blessed to have this gift and be able to talk to people who’d passed on. There are people who’d give anything to talk to their mother one last time. I get that, but this has been a part of my life for so long now, Carson. It’s like losing my right arm.”

“I hear you. I remember what it was like when Mom died. I never thought I’d ever get out of bed again. The first time I laughed, it crushed me. I mean, how could I laugh at a joke when my mother was dead and buried? Then I had my first vision and heard her chimes jingle in the reading room. Then you taught me how to speak to her whenever I wanted to and it was this whole new world opening up to me. If I lost the ability to speak to my mother now, Ten, it would be just like losing her all over again.”

It helped so much that Carson understood where he was coming from. The last thing he wanted was to sound like a whiny bitch to his best friend. “You know what Ronan said to me last night when we got home from meeting Broughan?”

“Tell me.”

“He said that there were times in the past that he resented my gift. That he’d be angry that he’d be stuck eating a cold dinner because I was off delivering a message from Spirit at a restaurant.” Ten could see Carson was getting upset on his behalf. He reached out, setting a hand on Carson’s. A signal for him to wait a minute before losing his shit on Ronan.  “It’s true, that happened more times than it didn’t happen. But, a second later, Ronan says that he would happily eat a lifetime of cold dinners with me if that meant I would get my gift back this second.”

Carson’s angry look softened. “He said that? I owe the big lug an apology. He loves you a lot.”

“He does.” There was no doubt in Ten’s mind how much Ronan loved him. “He even told me about how what’s going on with me is similar to what happened to him after the Garcia shooting. He didn’t know if he’d get his detective’s shield back or if he’d end up directing traffic.”

“That’s a pretty deep story to share with you.” Carson was smiling wistfully.

“It is.”

Carson’s smile faded. “Look, you know I’m not good at dancing around things. I’m more the type to just come right out and say things.”

“Just say what’s on your mind, Carson.” Ten knew he wasn’t the type to hold anything back.

“While you’re in this holding pattern with your gift, have you figured out a way to put yourself and your relationship with Ronan first at times when you get it back? I mean, it’s nice that Ronan said he’s willing to eat cold meals with you for the rest of your lives, but that’s not fair to either of you to hold him to that romantic sentiment.”

“To be honest, I haven’t thought about this at all. I’ve been more concerned with just getting my gift back that I haven’t thought at all about what I’ll do when it’s back and I can work again.”

Carson raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh, I know exactly what you’ll do.”

“You do?” How could Carson know when he wasn’t even sure himself.

Carson shot Tennyson an, “Are you kidding me?” glance. “Yeah, you’ll rebook all of your cancelled readings. Knowing you, you’ll get through weeks of appointments in three days. Then, you’ll go back to Boston Police Headquarters with Ronan and grab those boxes of boring files you said Ronan had and sit in an interrogation room and talk to the murder victims one by one until they are all solved Am I close?”

Ten sighed. Not only was Carson close. He was right on the money. Now that he heard his best friend say them out loud, those were exactly the things he’d do. “Of course you’re close. You’re a psychic.”

“I didn’t need my gift to pull those answers out of my ass.” Carson took a deep breath. “Listen to me carefully. Working yourself to the bone is what got you in this mess in the first place, where you felt like you had to shout at spirits to leave you alone for five seconds of peace. If you pick up where you left off like nothing has changed, you’re going to end up right back in the same place again.”

He didn’t want to admit it, but Carson had a point. “You might be right.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Ten. You know I’m right. Look, start small. When you’re out to dinner with Ronan, you need to tell the spirits gathering around you that you’re eating and they have to wait until you’re done with your meal. Tell them, ‘If you can’t wait for me to eat up, go find another medium.’”

Ten’s eyes popped open. “I could never do that! These people need my help.”

“If you’re so appalled by this why did you tell me and Cole to learn the blocking exercises? Why did you tell us about setting times to work and times to be off duty? Remember the lesson about flashing the off-duty light like the Boston cabs have? Why did you teach us to do this if you weren’t doing it too?”

“I didn’t want you and Cole to end up like me.” It was a hard admission to make. “My job is who I am. I feel like I’m worth something when I’m helping people out.”

“Oh, Ten. You’re always worth something. You are an amazing friend. Everyone who knows you loves you. The problem is that until now, you’ve never done anything for yourself. Didn’t you say that until that day in Maine you’d never slept through the night uninterrupted?”

Ten nodded, feeling like shit. It was true. From the time he’d experienced his first visitation at thirteen until that day a few weeks ago in Maine, he’d never had an uninterrupted night’s sleep.

“If you haven’t slept through the night in seventeen years, you’re an idiot. Isn’t that what you’d tell me? If you don’t get a handle on this now, how are you going to be a father? Are you going to dump your two-year-old to help a ghost instead of spending time with him?”

That was harsh, but Ten had a feeling he knew what Carson was trying to say. “I hear you. I’ll work on it. I promise.”

“You heard us talking, me, Cole and now Kevin, about doing anything for our kids. When you’re a father yourself, you’ll be that way too, Ten. You’ll see that it will be so much better in the long run if you get yourself settled now.”

“You’re right. I’ll work on it with Ronan. He’s coming down tonight after work.”

“Maybe you could take a page out of that book and make him dinner?” Carson winked.

 

 

 

 

24
Ronan

“Back to the morgue.” Tennyson’s voice sounded cheerful as Ronan parked the Mustang.

“You just want to hear what happened between Vann and Broughan after we left the party the other night.” Ronan grinned.

“Oh, and you don’t?” Ten laughed as he climbed out of the car.

“Maybe.” Ronan was just happy that there was a smile on Ten’s face instead of fear over the thought of going back to see the medical examiner. At least this time there would be no body on the table for them to look at.

“Oh, come on. You know you’re just as interested as I am in what’s going on with them.”

Ronan was more than interested. If Vann hooked up with Broughan, then he would finally stop flirting with Tennyson. “They’d make one hell of a double date, right?”

Ten started to laugh. “It would be one of those nights we’d be kicking each other under the table.”

“Or laughing our asses off so hard it hurt in the morning.” That kind of night would be good for Tennyson.

“Or needing to bail them out of jail.” Ten rolled his eyes.

“Fuck that! We’d be right there in the cell next door.”

“That’s just what we need. A BPD detective and a police consultant spending the night in the lock up with a county medical examiner and a famed energy healer. There’s a punchline in there somewhere. I can feel it.”

“You can feel it when we get home. I promise.” Ronan waggled his eyebrows at Ten and held the door open.

“Ah, my two favorite visitors.” Vann Hoffman smiled when they walked through the door.

“I can’t imagine you get a lot of repeat visitors in your line of work, Vann.” Ronan shook his hand.

Vann barked out a surprised laugh. “True, I don’t. Which makes the two of you my favorites. Hell of a party the other night, Ten.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. Vann made it sound like it had been a kegger with hot guys that got broken up by the cops.

“Before or after I insulted the guest of honor?” Ten would never forget Broughan overhearing him say he was a snake oil salesman in reference to a comment Vann had just made.

“We had a good laugh about that later on.” Vann winked.

“Were you both naked at the time?” Ronan couldn’t help himself. He had to know what was going on between the two of them.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” Vann said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“They were dressed.” Ten laughed.

“And holding Carson’s babies.” Vann rolled his eyes. “Christ, we were there half the night. Your friends know how to party. I’m guessing the two of you were home snuggling and there we were chowing down on pizza and passing around babies. It was just like my college frat parties only we weren’t dressed or passing around infants.”

Ten burst out laughing. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“I heard a rumor that the Owens family were Kung Fu Fighting later that night.” Vann was grinning from ear to ear.

Ronan shook his head. “We’ve got pictures of their injuries. The brother slapped his mother across the face and punched his sister. He broke her nose.” He handed his phone to Vann.

“Damn, that’s some messed up shit. All of this is over money?” Vann asked.

“That’s what it seems like from the outside looking in, but to be honest, I’m not sure.” Ronan shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Ten asked.

“Do you have the autopsy X-rays, Vann?” Ronan asked.

“Yeah, they’re up on the lightboard for you.” He led the way and flipped on the lights, illuminating Harold Owens skull, or what was left of it anyway.

“Whoever did this, hit Harold more than once. There was rage here. Overkill. Am I right, doc?” Ronan asked.

Vann nodded. “The medical examiner who conducted the original autopsy stated that he believed Harold Owens was struck three times with the murder weapon. I believe he was hit between five and six times. Based on the x-ray images and the photos taken, it looks to me like he was struck multiple times in the same spot. You’ll be able to corroborate that with crime scene pictures and cast-off blood evidence.”

“Can do. Did you write up a report of all of this for us?”

“Ronan, you know me better than that. Of course I did. I have a hard copy for you here and I’ve already sent it to Fitzgibbon too.”

“Is there anything of interest in the original autopsy?” Ten asked, staring at the x-rays.

“Harold Owens was a man in failing health. According to his bloodwork, he was on high blood pressure medication, his blood sugar was sky high, and he had pancreatic cancer.”

“Shit.” Ronan knew that was an instant death sentence. Pancreatic cancer was almost never discovered until it was too late to treat it and this was twenty years ago to boot. “Did he know?”

“I’m not sure. If he did, he wasn’t seeking treatment for it. My guess is no, he didn’t know. Have the wife or daughter mentioned anything about it?” Vann asked.

“Neither of them has mentioned it to us,” Ronan said.

“Well, bringing it up ought to re-ignite World War III,” Ten said.

“What do you mean?” Vann looked confused.

“The money they are fighting over is Harold’s life insurance money. How long did Harold have left to live?”

“A couple of months at most.” Vann shrugged.

“Oh yeah, that’s going to stir the pot. All the killer had to do was wait until spring and the money would have been theirs legally.” What a shit show this was going to be when he had to break the news.

Someone was angry to begin with. Angry enough to bash poor Harold’s skull in enough times for it to be considered overkill. All three of his suspects had anger issues. Question was, who was the angriest?

 

 

25
Tennyson

The line stretched for miles. From where he was standing, Tennyson couldn’t even see where it ended. In some spots there was only one or two spirits waiting for him, but in other places, the line was five or six ghosts deep. Ten couldn’t speak with everyone in the line if he had a week.

Ten didn’t have a week. He didn’t have any time at all. He was on his way to Chili’s for their fajitas. The damn commercial advertising their new fajita plate on television was so repetitive that the jingle was an earworm Tennyson couldn’t get out of his head.  He’d finally thrown in the towel and asked Ronan to take him.

He’d been working extra hard on his “off-duty” signal, but standing here in the Chili’s parking lot, it didn’t seem to be working. The spirits closest to him were shouting for him. Some were calling out his name. Others were pleading for Tennyson to help them.

Using his entire focus, he projected his off-duty message even harder. Ten was trying so hard that his head started to ache and he could feel blood dripping from his nose.

Wanting to get out of the parking lot, he turned around to ask Ronan to get him out of there, but Ronan was gone. Ten spun around and kept looking for the detective, but he was nowhere to be found. “Ronan?” he shouted.

The crowd of spirits swelled toward him. They were coming at him like a mob. Ten tried to run but one of the spirits had grabbed him. He tried to shake loose of the ghost, but it wouldn’t let him go. “Stop! Leave me alone!” Ten shouted.

More hands grabbed him. Another punched him. “RONAN!” Ten shouted. His voice cracked. Ten had never been so afraid in his life. Why was this happening to him? Why were the spirits ignoring his off-duty sign? Where the hell was Ronan?

Struggling to break free, Ten lashed out with his arms and tried to kick with his legs. The spirits felt strangely solid. “Help me, Ronan! RONAN!”

More blows were landed. Ten felt himself losing his balance, felt himself going down, felt himself hit the ground. He didn’t have a moment to catch his breath before he was being kicked. His legs, ribs and head were all targets. The sound of the mob shouting drowned out Ten’s pleas for help. He knew he was going to die. There was no way he could survive a beating like this. “Ronan…”

“Jesus Christ, Ten! Wake up, Tennyson.” Ronan was shaking his shoulders.

Tennyson took a gasping breath and sat bolt-upright in bed. The brightness of the light hurt his eyes. He was bathed in sweat and ached from head to toe. “Ronan?” Ten panted.

“I’m here, sweetheart, right here.” Ronan cupped the sides of his face. “Are you okay?”

“W-what happened?” Ten remembered the dream as clearly as if it were a movie he’d just watched.

“I was sound asleep and the next thing I knew, you were screaming my name and kicking the shit out of me. I’m gonna be black and blue from head to toe in the morning. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you okay?”

Was he okay? “I don’t know. I ache everywhere. I dreamed that we went to Chili’s and there was a line of spirits waiting to talk to me. When I wouldn’t read them, they attacked me. They were punching and kicking me. I was screaming for you. I thought I was going to die and then you woke me up.” Ten could feel his entire body shaking.

“Come here, babe.” Ronan pulled Ten into his arms and held him tight.

As good as it felt for Ronan to hold him, it hurt like a son of a bitch. “Ouch, Ronan.” Ten pulled back. “Why does it hurt so much to hug you?”

Ronan moved away from Tennyson and pulled the sheets all the way off his lover’s body. “Oh, my God, Ten!” Ronan gasped, his right hand came up to cover his mouth.

Ten looked down at his torso and legs which were covered in bruises. Some were small, like the fingerprint bruises Ronan sometimes left on his hips, others were large and round, like they’d been made by fists. “Holy shit.”

“It looks like you took a beating.” Ronan sounded horrified.

“In my dream I did, but how is it possible for that to manifest itself on my body?”

“I know this is more your area of expertise than it is mine, but didn’t you say the spirits in your dream were angry at you?”

Ten nodded.

“Is it possible that angry spirits can do humans harm like you see in the movies?”

Was it possible? Ten wasn’t sure. If his gift was working, he would have asked Bertha. She would have known for sure. “I don’t know, Ronan, and with my gift not working, there’s no one I can ask.”

“That’s it. We need more help.” Ronan’s tone brooked no argument.

“What do you mean we need more help?”

“There has to be someone in Salem who knows more about this stuff than we do. Someone more powerful than Carson and Broughan Beals. Someone who can do more for you than an esthetician or a masseuse.”

“Who?” Ten asked. For the first time since this whole odyssey began, he felt scared. Never once in seventeen years of working with the dead had a spirit ever tried to harm him.

“I don’t know. Stay here.” Ronan dashed out of the room.

While he was gone, it gave Ten a few minutes to pull himself back together. He ran his fingers over some of the bruises. They all hurt. How would he explain this to Carson? It would look like Ronan did this to him.

“Here we go.” Ronan was carrying his laptop like a book. He also had a cup of tea and a bottle of Advil. He set the tea down on Ten’s nightstand and handed the pain reliever to his lover before climbing back into bed and opening the computer.

Ten swallowed a couple of pills while he watched Ronan hunt and peck on the keyboard.

“Okay, this is interesting.”

“What is interesting?” Ten took a sip of his tea and looked over Ronan’s shoulder.

“It says here that people who have your gift and refuse to help people from the other side can have vivid dreams of spirits and physical manifestations of injuries.”

“How is that possible?”

“This Madam Aurora says that people like you are a conduit. Spirits know you’re capable of speaking to them and helping them cross over or speak to their loved ones. They are still able to feel human emotions, anger, fear, frustration. It can cause them to act out violently if they feel they aren’t being helped.”

“Are you saying I really was attacked tonight by spirits who thinking that I’m willfully not cooperating with them?” Ten shook his head. Jesus Christ, what was next? Could these spirits do more than bruise him? Could they cut him? Could they kill him?

“I don’t know, Ten. It says here in this article that Madam Aurora is a Salem psychic. She works downtown over by the Peabody Essex Museum. I bet she could answer these questions for you much better than I can.”

Tennyson knew who Madam Aurora was. Salem, Massachusetts was a relatively small city. The psychic community in Salem was also small, certainly not on par with the community in New Orleans and while not close-knit, all of the mediums in town knew who the others were even if they weren’t friends.

He’d approached her years ago when he first moved to Salem. He needed a job and a way to make a name for himself and establish a customer base of his own. The famous medium turned him down flat. Ten wouldn’t ask her for help if he were on fire and she were holding a hose.

Instead of responding to Ronan, Tennyson just wrapped himself around his lover and held on tight.

 

 

 

26
Ronan

It was a day for lies. Not that Ronan was proud of himself, but sometimes it was the only way. He’d told Tennyson he was on his way to work. Meanwhile he’d told Fitzgibbon he was working a lead on the Owens case. In reality what he really had done was scheduled a meeting with Carson at the Magick shop while Tennyson was at his Reiki appointment.

Hearing Ten screaming his name and feeling him thrashing around in the throes of the nightmare was bad enough, but seeing the bruises was the final straw. He didn’t know how it was possible to get beaten up by angry spirits in a dream, but Ronan was going to find out, starting with Carson.

The bell above the door jingled when Ronan walked through it. Cole looked up in surprise. “Ronan? What are you doing here?”

Ronan grinned. “I’m Carson’s 10am appointment.”

Cole frowned. He slid the computer mouse from side to side and then started typing. “Ah, no, Sam Spade is Carson’s 10am.”

Ronan burst out laughing. “Seriously, man? Sam Spade was the detective in The Maltese Falcon.”

Cole gave him a blank look.

“Humphrey Bogart played Sam Spade in the movie version?” Crickets. Cole was looking at him like he’d lost his mind. “You’ve never heard of The Maltese Falcon?”

Cole shook his head.

“I made the appointment. I needed to talk to Carson without Ten knowing. Without anyone knowing.” Christ, this day was getting worse by the second.

“Ronan, what’s wrong? I could feel your anxiety from the bakery.” Carson looked concerned as he walked into the shop carrying a cup of coffee in one hand.

“Aside from Cole never hearing of The Maltese Falcon?” Ronan shook his head. “It’s Ten. I need to talk to you. Something bad happened last night…” Ronan trailed off. He could feel his fear rising to the surface.

“Okay, come with me.” Carson wrapped an arm around Ronan’s shoulder and led him to the reading room.  Once they were in the room with the door shut, he ushered Ronan to a chair. “Tell me what’s going on. Don’t leave anything out.”

Ronan took a deep breath. “Tennyson had a nightmare last night.” Ronan shook his head. “Actually, nightmare isn’t a strong enough word. It was a night terror. He woke me up out of a sound sleep screaming my name. He was kicking his legs and swing his arms as if he were fighting for his life. I turned on the lights and managed to wake him up. The look in his eyes was pure terror. But that wasn’t the worst of it, Carson.” Ronan felt tears threatening and let them fall.

“It’s okay. Whatever it is, we’ll take care of it, Ronan.” Carson set a hand on his shoulder.

“Ten said he was sore all over, which I believed since he’d been fighting so hard in his dream, but then I noticed a mark on his side. When I pulled the covers back to get a closer look, I noticed he was covered in bruises.”

“Covered in bruises? What? Like you mean he hit himself during the dream?” Carson’s eyes narrowed.

“No. Ten said spirits attacked him.” It sounded crazy saying it out loud.

“Attacked him? That’s not possible, Ronan. Spirits can’t hurt humans. I know movies say they can, but it’s not-” Carson paused, his head turned and he looked like he was listening to someone.

Ronan would bet that Bertha Craig was in the room. Thank God for that. One of the reasons he’d come to see Carson here today in the shop was in hopes Bertha would join them.

“I stand corrected, Ronan. My mom has a lot to tell you, but first she wants to hear all about this dream.” Carson smiled fondly at the empty space next to him.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bertha. Ten said the dream was about the two of us going to dinner. When we got there, he saw a huge line of spirits waiting to talk to him. When he told them he couldn’t speak to them, they surged toward him and started attacking him. When he looked for me to protect him, I was gone. He was screaming for me as they kicked and punched him. When I woke him up, he was covered in bruises. I could tell from the shapes what caused them; fingers digging into his flesh, fists, shoes…” Ronan trailed off. He felt a warmth surrounding him and knew Bertha had her hands on his shoulders. 

Ronan appreciated the comfort Bertha was providing, but he didn’t need it right now. He needed a way to help Tennyson.

Carson burst out laughing.

“What’s funny?” Ronan didn’t see humor in any of this, but knew Bertha Craig marched to the beat of her own drummer from the other side.

“Mom says you’ll take her comfort and like it.” Carson laughed.

Ronan should have known Bertha could hear his thoughts. “Do you know what happened to him last night, Bertha?”

“Mom’s nodding. She says she knows a bit about it. Conduits like me and Ten aren’t as common as you think. When spirits see us, they rush to us. That’s why Ten seems inundated at crowded places like supermarkets and restaurants. Sometimes these spirits have been waiting a long time to find someone like us. Just like in life, some spirits don’t like being kept waiting.”

“Jesus, so people are assholes in death too?” Not exactly words of comfort, Ronan couldn’t help thinking. He’d been to plenty of crime scenes in his twelve years on the force thanks to ill tempers and lack of patience.

“Some of them are. You have to think about the urgency of the messages they are delivering. Or rather the urgency of the messages in their own mind.”

“Ten says that when your dead, your priorities change. What was important in life isn’t what’s important in death.” Ten had explained that to him in the course of the Michael Frye case, but he supposed what was important to a five-year-old boy wouldn’t necessarily be important to an adult.

“That’s true, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t other priorities that take over. There are spirits that never got to say goodbye. Others that never got to say they were sorry. Still more who want to continue the fight from the afterlife. Plus, some of them can feel entitled.” Carson tilted his head and shrugged as if to say, “What can you do?”

Ronan’s own spirit sunk lower and lower with each word out of Carson’s mouth. “What you’re saying is that Tennyson ran into a bunch of entitled spirits who were pissed off that he couldn’t help them.”

“That’s what Mom thinks. What they don’t understand is that Ten can’t help them right now. All they knew was that he had the ability to help and he wasn’t helping. That intensified the situation. It’s like rabid fans following Justin Bieber around all day and then he announces that he isn’t signing autographs or taking selfies today.”

“It was a riot,” Ronan whispered, horrified. Ten was all alone in his dream facing a rabid mob.  Ronan felt like he was going to be sick.

Carson nodded.

Ronan took a shallow breath through his mouth hoping to keep the nausea at bay. “Bertha, they beat him pretty badly. Can they do more than that? Can they put him in the hospital? Can they kill him?” Ronan felt his entire body start to shake. Not even the warmth flowing through him through Bertha could warm him up.

The look on Carson’s face was grim. 

Ronan knew the answer. “So, what do I do? Keep Ten awake?” Christ, it reminded him of those Nightmare on Elm Street movies where the killer stalked teenagers in their sleep. They were safe so long as they stayed awake. 

“Mom isn’t sure if he’s safe when he’s awake either.” Carson’s eyes were glassy as he spoke.

Ronan’s heart was pounding. He was a trained police officer. He carried a gun for a living. He was an expert marksman and was trained in all methods of self-defense. None of those skills could keep Tennyson safe. “Madam Aurora.”

“What?” Carson asked. 

“I read an online blog last night from Madam Aurora. Someone asked a question about this same thing. She wrote an answer about this phenomenon. Can she help Tennyson?”

Carson grimaced. “Ronan, I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“Why not? This woman seems to know what she’s talking about. Maybe she knows how to keep Ten safe.”

Carson was shaking his head. “There has to be another way.”

Ronan didn’t like the way this was going. “What aren’t you telling me, Carson?”

“Did you mention Madam Aurora to Ten?” Carson asked carefully.

“Yes, and he didn’t think talking to her was a good idea either. Look, I know you psychics have your own clients and your own territory, but if she can help him, then I think we need to call her.” What the hell was going on here? Why were Ten and Carson both reticent to speak to this woman?

“I know, Mom. I’ll tell him.” Carson sighed. 

“Tell me what?” Ronan could feel his temper starting to rise. 

“When Ten first moved to Massachusetts, he went to her looking for a job. He needed a start. A way to establish himself and make some money. She gave him a test, which according to Ten, he passed with flying colors and she turned him down flat. Kicked him out of her shop and told him to never come back.”

“Why would she do that?” Ronan had a feeling he already knew.

“Because he was a stronger talent than she was and she was afraid that he would eventually rise above her and then steal her clients when he struck out on his own.”

Ronan growled. “That dirty bitch, I’ll-”

“Don’t say it, Ronan. You’ll never be able to take it back,” Carson cautioned. 

“Someone else then. There has to be a higher-level psychic who knows how to help Ten through this that doesn’t have that kind of attitude.”

Carson nodded. “Mom’s going to look into it.”

“Thank you, Bertha. I appreciate that. I really do, but what do we do in the meantime?”

“We wait.” Carson sighed. “We wait.”

Ronan didn’t know how much more waiting he could take.

 

 

 

 

27
Tennyson

Tennyson was a ball of nerves. He was sitting in Laura Keller’s sun-splashed Salem, Massachusetts Reiki studio waiting for his 10am appointment to start. The Advil that Ronan had given him earlier this morning had completely worn off. In addition to feeling edgy, Ten was one big ache.

Ten hadn’t wanted Ronan to go to work this morning. For the first time in their relationship, he’d wanted Ronan to call in sick and spend the day with him. Nothing like what had happened last night had ever happened to him in the seventeen years since he first discovered his gift and he was scared.

Spirits had attacked him in his dreams which he hadn’t known was possible. Could they attack him when he was awake? Relaxed? While he was driving? Could they affect the brakes in his car? Tennyson just didn’t know.

What was also upsetting him was Ronan suggesting he turn to his arch nemesis for help. Not that Ronan had any way of knowing Madam Aurora was his arch nemesis, but he knew and that was enough to fuel his unease.

Ronan had a point though, Tennyson did need help. More help than Carson and Cole could provide. 

“Tennyson Grimm?”

Ten jumped a mile. “Yes!” He hopped out of his seat like it was on fire.

“Hi, I’m Laura. Why don’t you come back to the treatment room with me and we can get started?” Laura was a petite woman who looked to be in her early forties. She looked concerned over Ten’s reaction to her appearance.

Ten followed behind the woman, adding embarrassed to the list of things that were going wrong with him today.

“So, Tennyson, why are you here today? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Laura smiled kindly.

Ten burst out laughing. He couldn’t help himself. The absurdity of the situation was just too much for him. Ten laughed to the point that Laura joined in with him, out of pity or because it just felt good, he didn’t know and didn’t much care at the moment. It just felt good to let it all out.

When he was finally back in control of himself, Ten took a deep breath. “I’m a psychic, Laura. I work over at West Side Magick, here in town. I’ve had my gift since I was thirteen years old and a few weeks ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life by wishing my gift away. Whatever it was I did that day shutdown something inside of me. My gift isn’t actually gone, it’s just blocked. As one person puts it, my door to the other side is shut and locked and I have the key, but I don’t know where it is.”

Laura nodded. “I assume you’ve spent that last few weeks looking, unsuccessfully, for the key?”

Tennyson nodded. “I’ve had a massage, a facial, and I learned visualization exercises. I’ve seen an energy healer too. I’m told that my gift is close, but last night something happened that tells me I’m not close enough.” He took off the light sweater he was wearing over his blue polo shirt to reveal the bruises on his arms.

“Are you being hurt in the relationship you are in?” Laura turned to get up.

“Laura, no. My boyfriend is the kindest man I know. Spirits did this to me in a dream. They are angry that I can’t help them at the moment.”

Laura froze in place. Spirits did that to you?” She looked hesitant to believe him. Pulling out her phone, she started typing on it.

Ten had a feeling this might happen. He’d decided to see a Reiki practitioner because of their open-mindedness. He was coming to realize that might not be the case. “They know I am a conduit to the living and since it’s been weeks since I’ve been able to connect them to their loved ones, they are getting a little impatient with me.”

“Well, it says here you work for the Magick shop.” Laura held up her phone.

Ten was on his last nerve. The last thing he was going to do was come in and lie to this woman about anything, least of all about being abused by Ronan. “Coming here was a mistake. I should go.” He stood up.

“Wait! Tennyson, I’m sorry.” Laura held her hands out. “I’ve just never heard a story like this before. A blocked psychic and spirits who attack in the night? You have to admit it would make a pretty good movie plot.”

Ten sighed. He was feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Yeah, my whole life could be a movie, that’s for sure.” A whole series of movies, starting with his shitty childhood, rolling on to his meeting with Ronan and the Michael Frye case. The sequel that somehow manages to surpass the popularity of the first movie would be the Justin Wilson serial killer case and then the little engine that could would be the third installment where the psychic who has it all, loses it all. Christ, he could hardly wait to find out what would happen in the fourth movie. An alien invasion? A giant man-eating shark terrifying a local beach on the Fourth of July? Superheroes battling evil in their town? At this point, anything was possible.

“Why don’t you hop up on the table and we’ll get started?” Laura’s voice was encouraging.

Ten nodded. He was here, he might as well just have the treatment. Although, he was just bitchy enough to ask for a discount after Laura’s attitude and her on-the-spot fact checking. Shit, what would she have done if his picture wasn’t so readily available on the internet? Would she have called the police to investigate his bruises? Would Ronan have gotten into hot water because of them. Would he have been blamed for causing the marks?

Everyone who knew and worked with Ronan knew that he would never lay a hand on Tennyson. Captain Fitzgibbon had been surprisingly open-minded when it had come to letting him consult on cases and in believing in his gift, but for the sake of transparency, he would have had to allow an investigation into Tennyson’s injuries to go forward, otherwise it would look like he had something to hide.

“I just think before we begin that maybe I should document your injuries.” Laura held up her phone.

His anxiety was ramped up now. His heart was pounding in his ears and he was starting to feel like the walls were closing in on him. It was time to go. Ten hopped off the table. “I can’t believe you think I’m lying to you.”

“Tennyson, please.” Laura urged.

“No, I’ve got to go.” Without a second glance backward, his fear propelling him forward. Tennyson ran out the door.

 

 

 

 

28
Ronan

Ronan was still sitting in the reading room of the Magick shop. He was looking up different Salem psychics on his phone. Granted, knowing which one could or could not help Tennyson was not his strong suit. 

It figured that the one person who could help him was a queen bitch. Ronan swore that if he ever met that bitch, he’d tell her exactly what he thought of her and her bullshit hiring practices. 

It killed him to think back to eighteen-year-old Tennyson, alone in this world after being kicked out of his parents’ house. Ten had mentioned working at the local McDonalds while he’d been in high school, so Ronan couldn’t imagine he had a ton of money to his name when he stepped off the bus in Salem. And here this bitch was turning him away from a job because he was more talented than she was. Ronan had two words for that hag and they were “fuck” and “you.”

He checked the time on his phone and saw that it was nearly 10:30am. He needed to calm himself down. Ten would be done with his appointment in about fifteen minutes. According to what he read about Reiki treatments, Ten should be nice and relaxed and might even be a bit tired tonight. Ronan wanted that relaxed vibe to continue for Ten who could sure use the downtime.

Ronan had the rest of their day planned out. He was going to surprise Ten by spending the rest of the day with him. First, they were going to grab lunch at Ten’s favorite lobster restaurant out by the water and then they were going for an ice cream. After that, it was back to Ten’s apartment for a nice nap and maybe they’d marathon some old episodes of MASH. Ten loved that show. 

Ronan was about to get up and find Carson. He knew the shop carried different types of tea and knew Carson would be able to tell him which type was Tennyson’s favorite. He was halfway to the door when he heard a voice yelling. It sounded panicked and scared. Pulling open the door, he started to run toward the front of the store. The closer he got to the cash register, the more the voice started to sound familiar, even though it was high pitched to the point of setting off car alarms.

“...crazy bitch thinks Ronan hurt me,” the voice sobbed.

“Ten?” Ronan half-roared. He ran the rest of the way to Tennyson, who was sobbing so hard, he was bent double. He tried to wrap his arm around Ten’s shoulder, but his boyfriend batted him away. “Carson, what’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. He ran into the store crying like this, saying that the bitch thinks you hurt him.” Carson was standing about five steps back from Tennyson with both of his hands in the air where Ten could presumably see them.

“What bitch?” Ronan asked gently. “The Reiki Master?” Ronan had no idea what to do here. He’d never seen Tennyson this upset before. His face was red and tears were streaming down it. Ronan wondered if he was getting enough oxygen.

Tennyson was sucking in a big lungful of air, but it didn’t seem to be helping him calm down. He seemed like he was trying to say something, but couldn’t get the words to push past his lips.

“Cole is in the bakery. Go get him,” Carson said quietly. 

Ronan moved quickly through the store and into the bakery which was thankfully empty. Cassie wasn’t standing at her usual spot behind the counter. Christ, what the hell was it with today?

Ronan ran behind the counter and heard giggling. Now wasn’t the time for that shit. “Cole?” Ronan called out. “Are you back here?”

“This better be good, Ronan!” Cole’s voice did not sound pleased. “Mrs. Salazar has Laurel for the morning. This is the first free time I’ve had to ravish my wife in a week.”

Cassie giggled again. 

Motherfucker... “It’s Tennyson. He’s...losing his mind. You need to come now. He won’t let me touch him. I think he’s having a panic attack.”

“Do you need me to call 9-1-1?” Cassie asked, all traces of her earlier giggles gone.

Did he? “I’m not sure. Can you both come?”

“Right behind you,” Cole called out.

Ronan felt rooted to the spot. He couldn’t move, almost couldn’t breathe. Ten needed him and it was like he was frozen. There was nothing he could do to help Tennyson anyway.

“Ronan?” Cole’s gentle voice was right next to him. “Are you okay?” His hand was on Ronan’s shoulder, rocking him.

Ronan shook his head, trying to free himself from the fear gripping him. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. Let’s go see what’s going on.” Cole wrapped an arm around Ronan’s shoulder and led him back into the store. 

Ronan could see that Ten and Carson were no longer standing near the door.

“Reading room?” Cole asked.

“Must be. They were standing by the door when Carson sent me to find you.” Ronan tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like iron bands were wrapped around his chest and he couldn’t catch enough air.

“Ronan, what’s going on? First you make a secret appointment under a fake name to see Carson and now Ten’s back early from his Reiki appointment and is freaking out about something. Tell me.”

“Ten was attacked by spirits in his sleep last night. He’s bruised, Cole. More than that, he’s scared. Neither of us know if these spirits can hurt him worse than they did or even if they can kill him. There’s a medium in town who seems to know more about this than the rest of us, but Ten has a bad history with her and after hearing the story from Carson, I’m apt to trip the bitch down a flight of stairs if I meet her.” Ronan felt a bit better laying the situation out for Cole.

“Madam Aurora.” It wasn’t a question.

Ronan nodded. “Your mother said she’d check out other mediums in the area to see if they know anything about the spirits in Ten’s sleep thing, but...” Ronan stopped in his tracks, almost too worn out to say another word. 

Cole pulled him in for a hug, as if he knew that was exactly what Ronan needed. “The two of you have been shouldering so much these last few months, between the cases you’ve been working on, your new relationship, and now with Ten losing his gift. It’s okay to ask for help, Ronan.”

He nodded against Cole’s shoulder. “I’m asking.” Just saying those words out loud felt like a huge weight off his mind. There had been so much going on in their lives and Ronan knew his and Tennyson’s friends were there for them, but how many times could you tell the same story over and over before people got sick of hearing it and told you to just let it go? Instead of letting things get to that point, Ronan had just bottled them up.

He’d seen too many awful things in the Michael Frye case. There’d been more awful things after that in the Justin Wilson case. Not to mention Ten being kidnapped and the flying bullets, one of which had his captain’s name written on it. It really was too much.

Cole snorted. “I kinda got that. Let’s go see what’s going on with Ten and Carson and then we can figure out what the hell to do next. Okay?”

Ronan let himself be led to the reading room door. Cole opened it without knocking. 

Tennyson was sitting next to Carson and it looked like they were practicing deep breathing. Ten’s eyes were shut, but just looking at him, he looked plum worn out. There were dark circles under his eyes and his usually springy curls looked limp.

Carson cracked an eyeball open at them and motioned for them to have a seat and keep quiet. 

Ronan obeyed, taking the seat closest to Tennyson. He closed his eyes too and matched the cadence of their breath. Try as he might, he couldn’t manage to slow his heart rate down. It was still pounding like a jackhammer. He understood now why people who were having a panic attack often mistook the symptoms for a heart attack. 

Cole reached out for his hand and Ronan wasn’t afraid to take it. 

“Okay, how are you feeling now, Ten?” Carson’s voice was gentle.

“A little better,” he admitted. Ten’s shoulders were so tense, they were up around his ears.

“Are you feeling well enough to tell us what happened?”  Carson asked.

“Why is Ronan here?” Ten’s voice had an edge to it that Ronan didn’t expect and didn’t like. It made his heart pound a bit harder.

“Why don’t we hear what happened with you first and then Ronan can tell you all about his day?” Carson’s voice was almost hypnotic.

Ten nodded, still not looking totally onboard with the plan. “I went to the Reiki place. It’s over on Essex Street. The studio was sunny and warm. It was nice there. I wasn’t getting any kind of a bad vibe, but then again, I can’t get any kind of a bad vibe because my gift is gone.” He was glaring at Ronan as if the detective were the reason for it.

Carson reached out and put a hand on Tennyson’s hand. “It’s okay, Ten. The studio was nice and sunny.”

Ten turned his attention back to Carson. “I was thinking about what happened last night and how scared I was and the woman, Laura, called my name. I jumped and yelped.” Ten’s attention was back on Ronan again. His top lip was curled into a snarl. 

“Ten, that happens to me all the time. Truman catches me daydreaming and I squeal when he says my name. We both have a good laugh about it.”

“Yeah...” Ten crossed his arms over his chest. “I followed the woman back into the treatment room and she asked why I was there. I told her I was a psychic who lost my gift. I mentioned what I’d been doing to get my gift back and she looked me up online. When she asked why I was seeing her, I told her that I wasn’t close enough to finding my gift yet and I told her about my bruises. I showed her the ones on my arms and she asked if someone in my life was hurting me.” Ten was back to glaring at Ronan. 

“Jesus Christ. She thought I hurt you?” Ronan was going to be sick. “She thought I beat you?” Ronan felt his emotions start to spin out of control. When Tennyson was shouting when he’d run into the store he sounded like he was in a panic, now he sounded angry. Angry at himself? Angry at Ronan? “Ten, why are you so angry at me? What did I do?”

“What did you do?” Ten’s voice was cold as ice. “What didn’t you do? This is all your fault. You’re the reason my gift is gone. You and your guns and bullets and kidnappings and dead children and serial killers!” Tennyson took a ragged breath. “My life was perfect and happy before you walked into this store with your bad attitude, disbelieving in everything I do. Now look at me. It’s gone. My perfect life is gone, Ronan!”

Ronan actually felt his heart stop beating in his chest. The man shouting at him from the next chair wasn’t the man he fell in love with. This man was a complete stranger. “Carson, is it possible one of the spirits from last night managed to glom on to Ten and is influencing his mood right now?”

“Oh, ho! Look who paid attention.” Ten wore an eerie Joker-like smile. 

“I’m not sure what’s going on here.” Carson exchanged a wordless glance with his brother.

“Nothing glommed on to me.” Ten rolled his eyes. “I’m sick of my life being out of my control. I’m sick of being scared and alone”

“You’re not alone, Ten. You have all of us,” Cole said. 

“No one has been able to help me so far.” Ten sounded like a petulant child in need of nap.

“I need a break.” Ronan stood up and moved toward the door.

“Why were you here?” Ten shouted. “You told me you were going to work. I needed you to be here for me today and you went off to work like nothing out of the ordinary happened last night. You should have been here for me today.”

Ronan barked out a rough laugh. “Jesus Christ, Tennyson, why the hell do you think I’m here and not in Boston? I lied to you when I told you I was going to work because I was coming here to see Carson about what happened last night. I was so freaked out and scared that I needed to talk to him alone. I knew that if I told you, you would just tell me I was being ridiculous and that everything was fine and that you were safe. You’re not safe.” Ronan’s voice cracked. “Your entire body is bruised, sweetheart, and I couldn’t save you. Do you have any idea what that did to me, seeing you like that?” A rogue tear slid down his cheek. Ronan batted at it angrily. “You think your life is out of control? Look at mine! The man I love more than my next breath thinks I’m the reason his life crashed and burned around him.”

Unable to breathe in the tight room, Ronan yanked open the door and strode out.

 

 

 

 

29
Tennyson

 If Tennyson thought he felt like shit before, that was nothing compared to how he felt now. Ronan’s words played over and over again in his mind. His voice had sounded devastated, the look in his eyes was pure heartbreak and Ten had done those things to him.

After Ronan left, Cassie had rushed in with chamomile tea and shortbread cookies. The tea was Ten’s favorite relaxation blend and Ronan loved the shortbread. Cole had pulled his wife aside to explain what was going on and Ten hadn’t missed the dirty look Cassie shot him on her way out the door.

Making friends and influencing people…

Ten shook his head. He was still having a hard time believing he’d said those words to Ronan. Hell, at this point, he was lucky he still had friends left.

There had been a lot of texting going on after Ronan left. Ten assumed Carson and Cole were trying to find him and make sure he was okay. The problem was, neither of them were getting any return texts.

Around lunchtime Carson had taken Ten home with him. He’d sat in the living room with the babies while Carson filled Truman in on what was going on. Truman, usually thrilled to see him, had been cold after that point.

Now, two hours later, Ten was starting to worry. The babies were down for their afternoon naps. All of the lunch dishes were done. The dog had been fed and the downstairs floors were dry-mopped. The house was spotless. It was time to pay the piper.

Grabbing the portable baby monitor, Tennyson headed outside. Carson and Truman were sitting at the patio table talking quietly together, their hands joined. Sweating glasses of lemonade sat, barely touched, in front of them.

He felt like public enemy number one about to interrupt them. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey, Ten.” Carson smiled. Truman did not.

“I did the dishes, fed Sadie, dry mopped the floor…” He looked down at his feet.

“Ten, I didn’t bring you home with me so you could clean our house. Although, we do appreciate that very much. Don’t we, Tru?” Carson elbowed his husband.

Truman muttered something Tennyson couldn’t quite make out.

Looking up at the sky as if he was hoping for divine intervention, Carson took a deep breath. “Have a seat, Ten.”

Ten did what he was asked. He hoped that whatever it was Carson was about to say was going to make the situation better and not infinitely worse. The last thing he needed right now was more bad news.

“Have you heard from Ronan since he left the Magick shop this morning?” Carson asked carefully.

Ten had his phone in his hand a dozen times, at least, since Ronan stormed out of the reading room, but he hadn’t been brave enough to use it. “No. He hasn’t called or texted and neither have I.”

“We haven’t heard from him either. By we, I mean me, Tru, Cole and the captain.”

“You called Kevin?” Shit, if Fitzgibbon was involved that meant that he knew Ronan wasn’t working on the Owens case today. He knew Ronan was playing hooky.

“Ronan taking a day off the Owens case to help you isn’t a problem, Ten. Kevin knows what you’ve been going through. The fact that it’s been nearly four hours and no one’s heard from Ronan is what’s concerning.” Carson sighed.

Ten didn’t know what to say. There were a couple of places around Salem that Ronan loved, but would he have stayed here in town? Was he home in his shitty apartment in Dorchester? Was he at the closest bar breaking his sobriety? Ten dropped his head. He felt his chin hit his chest. “He loves to sit at Dead Horse Beach. Henderson Ice Cream is his favorite. It’s possible he’s at my apartment. I just don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this before.” Ten’s last words were barely above a whisper. “Usually he’s full of piss and vinegar when we fight. Today he was like one of those punching bags boxers use, but with all of the stuffing beat out of it.”

“Look, Ten, I don’t mean to stir the shit here, but, what the hell were you thinking today?” Truman asked “I get that you went through something traumatic last night. I saw the pictures. I hope you don’t mind, but Carson showed them to me. Ronan has been there for you through all of this. Why did you use him as your punching bag?”

It was a fair question. There was no doubt about that. Ten just couldn’t answer it. “I don’t know what got into me, Truman. One minute I was freaking out because I was so scared that the Reiki woman was going to call the police. I was actually terrified that she wasn’t going to let me leave and she’d call the Salem Police.”

“That was the anxiety talking,” Truman said.

“Yeah, I figured that out once my heart wasn’t pounding so hard in my ears it was all I could hear. She kept asking questions about Ronan. She obviously didn’t believe me about the bruises and how I got them. I felt my fight or flight instinct kick in. It was like pure adrenaline pumping through my body. It was like there was so much of it that I was drunk on it.”

Carson nodded. “It was an adrenaline high of sorts. You’ve heard of those crazy people who base jump or cliff dive? They do it for the adrenaline rush. What you got was something similar, but yours was purely fear-based, not thrill-based.”

“Right, well when the adrenaline stopped pumping, it felt just like being hungover. My head was pounding. I felt like I could sleep for a week and drink a gallon of water. Then I was just bitchy and mean. I don’t know what got into me except that what happened today, coupled with what happened last night was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I don’t know where to turn now.”

Truman sat forward in his chair. A deep frown furrowed his forehead. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not going to hurt myself, if that’s what you’re thinking. What I mean is that I’ve tried massage, body treatments, visualization exercises, energy healing, rough sex, soft sex, lots of sleep, too much ice cream. So far none of these things have helped. In the last three weeks I haven’t heard one voice or seen one spirit.”

“Except last night,” Carson pointed out.

“I don’t know how to explain what that was, Carson. I’ve never been hurt by a spirit before.” Talking like this was nice, but he didn’t have any more answers now than before.

“When Ronan was with me earlier, Mom stopped by. I almost wish she hadn’t, because it meant she wasn’t with you. She didn’t know if the spirits could hurt you more than what they had done, if they could draw blood, put you in the hospital, or… worse.”

Well, that sure as shit didn’t make Ten feel any better. “Christ, so my best bet tonight is to not fall asleep? Reminds me of those teenage slasher movies about the guy with the razor blades for fingers.”

“Mom said she was going to check with the other psychics around town. I wish I had more information to give you, but this is all we have.” Carson looked as lost as Ten felt.

“Ronan really came to see you today?”

Carson snorted. “Booked an appointment under a fake name.”

Ten found his first smile of the day. “He did? What fake name? Columbo? Miss Marple? Sherlock Holmes?”

“Nope! Sam Spade.” Carson grinned.

“Oh, The Maltese Falcon. Good movie. Not a big Humphrey Bogart fan, but that’s a hell of a movie.” Ten reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. When he hit the home button a selfie of himself and Ronan filled the screen.

The shot was one of those silly moments when they were working and Ten would lean over and snap a picture at a red light while they were driving through Boston. Ronan got so used to him doing it that he’d perfected his pose and smile. Stoplight Selfies, Ronan called them. They both looked so damned happy. Thanks to his earlier actions, they might not ever be as happy as they were when that picture was taken. “Is he ever going to speak to me again?”

Truman shrugged. “I think that’s up to you.”

 

 

30
Ronan

Ronan didn’t know why he was still in Salem. Glutton for punishment, he guessed. Tennyson knew Dead Horse Beach was his favorite spot in town and he’d been sitting here for nearly four hours on the off chance Ten decided to come look for him. What a god-damned fool he was.

The beach was small, only fifty yards or so of shoreline. It had light waves that lapped at the beach and a pretty view of Salem Harbor in front of it and the Salem Willows Park behind it.

The only thing looking for him was a curious squirrel who was somehow convinced he had a nut hidden in his pocket. Or maybe the squirrel knew he was a nut. Either way, he was sitting alone on a park bench.

If he had to guess, Ronan would say the reason why he was still sitting here was because he hadn’t figured out what was going to happen between him and Tennyson yet. He understood that Ten was suffering something fierce with losing his gift. What happened last night just added a new layer to that. A new and terrifying layer.

Why hadn’t Ten asked him to stay home today? Ronan gladly would have. He would have driven him to the Reiki appointment and would have ended up giving that woman a piece of his mind, which would have added fuel to the fire in her thinking Ronan had been the one to hurt Tennyson.

“This seat taken?” a familiar voice asked. Captain Fitzgibbon sat down next to him and handed him a fast food bag. He was holding a similar bag in his other hand.

Well shit…If the captain was here then he knew Ronan wasn’t chasing down a lead on the Owens case. “Hey, cap.”

“Calm down, Ronan. I come in peace and as a friend. Now eat. Rumor has it you missed lunch.” Fitzgibbon dug into his bag and pulled out a large sandwich. He unwrapped the top half and took an enormous bite.

Eating was the last thing on Ronan’s mind, but now that he could smell the cheeseburger, his body reminded him that it had been hours since breakfast. He opened his bag and pulled out the fries. He supposed he could eat a few of those.

At the sight of the golden-brown fries, a couple of sea gulls screamed in glee and flew over to the men.

“Christ, rats with wings!” Fitzgibbon rolled his bag up and stuck it under his arm.

“Not a bird fan?” Ronan had gotten to appreciate the gulls during his time here today. They were hardworking and determined birds. They kind of reminded him of himself. Plus, they liked French fries. Who didn’t like those?

“I don’t like anything that tries to steal my lunch.” The captain took another massive bite out of his burger. “Except Greeley. I like him.”

Ronan laughed. “I’m sure your son will be glad to hear that. The last thing that kid needs is for you to bite his hand off, mistaking it for your lunch.”

Fitzgibbon crinkled up the empty wrapper and dug back into the bag, pulling out a second cheeseburger. “So, you gonna tell me what this is all about? Or am I gonna have to rely on eyewitness testimony? We both know how unreliable that can be.” Kevin grinned at Ronan before digging back in to his lunch.

It was obvious Kevin had been briefed on the situation, possibly by multiple sources. Ronan dug out his phone and flipped to the pictures of Tennyson’s bruises. He handed the phone to his boss. “Ten had a nightmare last night, but this was unlike any dream I’ve ever heard of before, Cap. Spirits attacked him, mobbed him and beat him because he couldn’t help them. He was crying out for me and thrashing like he was in a fight for his life. When I was finally able to wake him up, I saw the bruises.”

“Holy shit, Ronan. They look like they’re caused by fists.” Fitzgibbon shook his head and swiped to the next photograph. “These are from the toe of a boot. Shit, these are fingermarks. Poor, Ten.”

“That’s exactly it. He had an appointment with a Reiki Master this morning. While he was at that, I went to see Carson hoping he could explain the dream. I’m worried that these spirits are going to get angrier and I wonder if they can do more than just beat Ten up.”

“Can they?” Concern and fear was etched on Fitzgibbon’s face.

“No one is really sure. There’s a psychic in town who we think can answer that question, but Ten has a bad history with her. She turned him down for a job when he first moved here because he was a more natural talent than she was. Can you fucking believe that? An eighteen-year-old kid alone in this world and that’s how she treated him?”

“If she’s the only person who can help him, we might have to put those bad feelings aside, Ronan. Tennyson’s safety is more important than a case of sour grapes. And anyway, look at what a success story he’s made of himself.”

“Until he lost his powers. It made me wonder if part of the reason he didn’t want to get in touch with her was because the powers she said were greater than her own are now gone.” Ronan hadn’t wanted to mention that to Tennyson, but it had been a thought he couldn’t let go of.

“None of that matters now.” The captain popped the last bite of his second burger into his mouth. “Finish the story.”

Ronan couldn’t help wondering if there was a third cheeseburger in that bag. “Carson’s mother was at our little chat and she said she’d speak with other mediums in town about what happened last night, but Bertha isn’t like you, I can’t pick up the phone and call her for an update.”

Kevin snickered. “No, I guess you can’t.”

“I was still at the Magick shop when Ten came back freaked out from his Reiki appointment. He showed the woman the bruises on his arm and she started asking him if he was being abused at home. It sounded like fight or flight kicked in and he ran out of there and continued to meltdown when he got to the shop. It only got worse when he saw me. Cap, he blamed me for everything going wrong in his life. Said it was my fault his perfect life was ruined.” Ronan felt tears pricking the back of his eyes, but he’d be damned if he let them fall in front of his boss.

“No one’s life is perfect, Ronan. Not even Tom Brady’s.” Fitzgibbon nudged Ronan with his shoulder.

“Come on. His life is pretty perfect. Cool job, hot wife, cute kids, tons of money.” Ronan wouldn’t mind walking a mile in Tom Brady’s shoes, well except the having sex with the wife part. He wouldn’t mind the taking a shower with the fifty-one other naked football players part.

“Okay, what about Monday mornings when every muscle in his body aches from the beating he took on Sunday? What about when the hot wife is nagging him to pick up his dirty underwear or stop leaving gobs of toothpaste in the sink? What about when the cute kids are fighting or when the market tanks and he loses a bundle of cash? None of those things sound quite so perfect to me.”

The captain had a point. Several of them in fact. “I know Tennyson is under a lot of pressure, but the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes when he said those words.” Ronan shook his head. “It was like he stuck my heart in a meat grinder.”

“Fear does funny things to a man, Ronan.” Kevin’s voice was so soft, his words were almost lost to the wind. “I remember when I was shot, lying there on the floor looking up at the ceiling. All I could think about at first was Greeley. You know, making sure he was safe. Then, once I knew he’d be taken care of, I wanted him gone. I didn’t want him around me, didn’t want him to watch me bleed out on the floor in front of him, have my glassy, blank eyes be the last memory he had of me.” Kevin shook his head.

Ronan set a hand on Fitzgibbon’s shoulder. He remembered that moment as if it were yesterday. He’d thought it was odd at the time that Fitzgibbon wanted Greeley out of the room. It all made sense now.

Fitzgibbon took a shuddering breath. “I don’t mean to compare my situation to Tennyson’s, but do you think he’s doing something similar? You know, pushing you away in case something worse happens to him?”

“It’s a possibility.” Ronan hadn’t considered that until now. “It’s also possible that he’s been through enough with me.” Ronan shrugged. “Ten was this pure soul before he met me. Hell, Cap, he’d never seen a dead body before, except on television. Now, he’s going to crime scenes and autopsies. He’s been kidnapped, shot at, beaten up by real people and by spirits. Just how much can one man take before he throws his cards on the table and folds?”

Fitzgibbon turned to Ronan and appeared to be studying him. “I’ve never really been in love before. I guess I’ve had some crushes in my time, but I never really knew what love was until I met Greeley. Now, I know a father’s love isn’t the same thing as what lovers feel for each other, but, I’d walk through fire for that boy. I’d get shot a thousand more times for him and if he asked me if I’d take that thousand and first bullet, I’d tell him hell yes and I’d take the thousand and second one too. Ronan, love isn’t about reaching a point when you fold your hand and walk away from the table. It’s about standing taller. It’s about drawing a line in the sand and stepping over it with your man in your arms because he’s too weak to step over it himself. I’ve watched the two of you grow as men and as a couple over the last few months and I’ve gotta say you both impress the hell out of me. I’m also jealous as hell. I spent my whole life married to my job and thanks to you and Ten, I’m realizing now, it isn’t enough.”

Ronan was stunned by the words flowing out of Fitzgibbon’s mouth. He’d never heard his boss talk so openly about himself or his beliefs before. “Every day you are alive, your story is still being written. You have plenty of time to fall in love, Cap.”

“Christ, that sounds like something Tennyson would say.”

Ronan snorted. “He did. Just don’t tell him I stole one of his lines.” He looked back out at the ocean. A seagull screeched as it floated past them. “What do I do if he really doesn’t want me back?”

Fitzgibbon burst out laughing. “Seriously, man? You’ve been a bulldog since the day I met you. You never give up on anything. You ride my last nerve to the point that I don’t know if I want to put you up for a citation or shoot you myself most days. We both know what you’re going to do.”

Ronan was about to laugh along with his captain when Ten’s text jingle rang out on his phone.

“That sounds like the answer to your question right there.” Fitzgibbon nudged his shoulder.

“It all depends what Ten wrote.” Ronan pulled his phone out and took a deep breath. “He wants me to meet him at Carson’s house.”

“Sounds like a good start.”

“How’d you know where to find me anyway?” Ronan hadn’t realized until now that Fitzgibbon had just showed up here.

“I got several messages that you’d gone AWOL. So I did what any good commanding officer would do in a crisis.”

“Gathered intel and went with the best leads?” Ronan grinned.

“No, dumbass, I turned on the GPS locator on your phone. It led me right to you.” Fitzgibbon reached into his fast food bag and pulled out another cheeseburger.

Ronan rolled his eyes. Sometimes technology was a policeman’s best friend. Right now, all he could do was hope this policeman hadn’t lost his best friend forever.

 

 

31
Tennyson

It seemed to take forever for Ronan and Fitzgibbon to get to the house. It was only a ten-minute ride across town, but with Ten’s heart pounding like it was, every second felt like an hour.

When Ronan’s Mustang pulled up, it was all Tennyson could do not to run outside and leap into Ronan’s arms. He’d been an absolute dick to his boyfriend and there was a good chance Ronan wasn’t going to want anything to do with him.

Ten was standing in the window when Ronan walked up the stairs and rang the doorbell. Sadie started barking and ran to the door. Carson was hot on the Yorkie’s heels. “Hey, Ronan.”

“Hey, man. How’s Ten doing?”

“He’s in the living room.” Carson hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

“Okay. Kevin’s coming over too. He was the one who found me at Dead Horse Beach.” Ronan walked into the living room with Carson. “Hi, Ten.”

Ronan looked like shit. Ten knew it wasn’t nice of him to think that, but it was true. His boyfriend looked like he’d aged five years in the five hours they’d been apart. “Hi, Ronan. Thank you for coming over. I was hoping we could talk a bit?”

“The babies are going to be up from their naps soon. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” Carson set a hand on each of their shoulders. “Guys, be kind to each other. It’s been a rough day for both of you. Make it better. Not worse.”

“Carson, before you go. Have you heard from your Mom yet?” Ronan’s voice was quiet.

“No. I haven’t seen her since this morning in the reading room.” Carson offered a small smile and headed up the stairs.

“Thanks.” Ronan shook his head.

“What’s that about?” Why would Ronan be asking about Bertha?

“Bertha was there this morning when I was meeting with Carson. She said she was going to talk with other psychics about what happened to you last night.” Ronan seemed to be studying Ten. “Why don’t we sit?” He led Ten over to the sofa. Sadie hopped up in his lap and tried to lick Ronan’s face.

“Usually she’s my best friend.” Ten wore a sad look. He reached out and scratched the small dog behind her ears.

“Guess she knows that job is taken.” Ronan offered him a smile.

“It is? I mean I was awful to you today.” Tennyson felt worse than he’d ever felt in his entire life. The words he’d said to Ronan had come from a place deep within himself that he didn’t even know existed.

“Let’s talk about that.” Ronan’s voice was calm. His face betrayed no hint of emotion. “Did you mean what you said about losing your gift being all my fault and how I ruined your perfect life? Or is there something else, something more, going on here?”

Ten stood up and walked around the room. Sadie hopped off Ronan’s lap and followed Ten around the room. She stopped at one point, sitting down and whined up at him. Ten bent down to pick her up, cuddling the dog against his chest.

He was so lost right now. He didn’t know if he was coming or going or what was going to happen next. The only thing he did know was that he loved Ronan. “What I said this morning was so far off the mark.” Ten turned around to face his lover, who, so far as he could tell, hadn’t moved a muscle. “My life before I met you was boring and lonely. Yes, I had Carson, Cole, and Truman, but that was it. There was no excitement, or drama, or love.”

“Sometimes there can be too much excitement. Morgues, bullets, dead bodies, kidnappings, friends getting shot.” Ronan was ticking them off on his fingers as he recited out loud.

Ten nodded. “Yeah, there are those things and let’s be honest, Ronan, those things suck. They suck in spades. But there are other things too.”

“Things like what?” Ronan sounded curious.

“Like the nights when we go home together and get pizza and zone out in front of old comedy reruns. Or when I wake up in the middle of the night and you’re holding my hand.” Ten stopped and just looked at Ronan. His blue eyes looked world-weary today. They looked like all they wanted to do right now was sleep. “How does that even happen that we end up holding hands in our sleep?”

“I don’t know, I guess our hands just make their way to each other.”

Ten walked back over to the sofa. “What if it happens again?” He could feel stone-cold dread snaking up his spine to wrap around his heart.

“What, the spirits attacking in your dreams?” Ronan’s eyes narrowed, his posture straightened as if he were getting ready to defend Tennyson against an attacker.

“Yeah, what if I can’t wake up this time. What if you have to watch me…” Tennyson couldn’t say the last word.

“No!” Ronan roared. “That’s not going to happen.”

The front door burst open. Fitzgibbon had his gun out of the holster. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Everything’s fine, Kevin,” Ronan said when he saw the gun in the captain’s hand.

Carson’s steps were loud on the stairs. He ran into the living room carrying Bertha and Stephanie. “Is everyone all right? Captain, there had better be a damn good reason why you have a gun out around my babies. I’d say swear jar, but you’re holding a gun…”

Kevin snorted and holstered his gun. “Sorry, Carson. I heard His loudness bellow and I came bursting through the door like Rambo. Everything’s fine. I’ll slip some money in the jar for my favorite cutie pies.” He reached out to run a finger down Bertha’s cheek, but Carson pulled the baby away.

He raised an eyebrow in what looked like mock outrage. “I know you’re not going to touch my baby without washing your hands first, Kevin. Swear jar.”

“When did the swear jar turn into an infraction jar?” Truman asked as he came down the stairs with Brian. “And why are you extorting our friends?”

“Uh, since my mother told me that…” Carson blushed. “I’ll just shut up now.”

“We’ll be discussing this later, wife.” Truman dropped a kiss against the side of Carson’s face before handing the baby to Ronan. “What did we miss?” Truman sat next to Ronan on the sofa.

Tennyson sighed. He loved his friends, but he was really hoping this conversation would be between him and Ronan. “I’m worried that I’ll have another dream with those spirits and that Ronan will have to watch me suffer through it or…”

“Or die,” Kevin finished as he walked back into the living room. He scooped Bertha out of a shocked Carson’s arms. “Guys, don’t all look at me like I just farted in church. I was just telling Ronan this exact thing an hour ago out at the beach.”

“What exact thing?” Truman asked.

“When I was shot a few months back, I said what I needed to say to Greeley and then told Tennyson to get him out of the room because I didn’t want the boy to have to watch me die. I told Ronan that I wondered if part of the reason for Ten’s little meltdown today was because he was afraid of the same thing.”

“Gee thanks, Cap.” Ten rolled his eyes. “Maybe be a bit harsher next time. This day hasn’t sucked enough yet.”

Kevin stared at Tennyson like he had three heads. “Oh, you haven’t seen harsh yet, son.”

“Oh, shit,” Ronan muttered, as if he knew what was coming.

“In my humble opinion, everyone around you, Ronan included, has babied you through this whole thing. So you lost your gift. Okay, now go fight for it. You didn’t need massages or hand holding. You needed facts. You needed some kick-ass psychic friend who knows more about this situation than you do. Who cares if it’s some hag who wouldn’t give you a start when you got to Salem. Fuck her! Be willing to fight for yourself and your gift by being humble enough to ask for help now. You have nothing to lose here. You’ve already proven yourself a bigger talent. Look at you! A member of the Boston Police Department came looking for your help. A BPD captain allowed you to consult on cases. The fucking Mayor of Boston gave you the key to city. What’s that bitch got? Hemorrhoids?  Fight for it, Tennyson. Stop taking your troubles out on Ronan and let him fight at your side. Trust me when I say you won’t find a more loyal or fierce ally.” Kevin smiled at Ten and went back to making funny faces at the baby.

“Holy shit,” Truman half-whispered. “Kevin, we’ve been talking about who we want to be godparents for our babies. We’d love it if you would stand up with Brian.”

Fitzgibbon started to laugh. “Seriously? I give the worst motivational speech in history and you want me to be your son’s godfather? I guess that’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Just don’t give him a gun, huh?” Carson laughed. “Oh, and by the way, Cap, swear jar! I think the rates should go up for godparents. More responsibility should equal more money.”

“You’ve lost your mind, wife.” Truman rolled his eyes.

“I don’t mean to be dramatic here,” Tennyson interrupted, “but can we get back to me now?”

The ringing doorbell stopped everyone in their tracks.

“I think that’s for you!” Carson grinned.

“What? My gift’s making house calls now?” Ten asked sarcastically. Everyone they knew was coming was here. Cole wouldn’t ring the bell, he’d just walk right in. He couldn’t imagine that Carson called Vann Hoffman or Broughan Beals. That only left one possible person standing on the other side of the door ringing the bell. Ten sighed. “Motherfucker…”

 

 

32
Ronan

It wasn’t like Tennyson to use that word. It certainly wasn’t like him to use that word out loud in front of the babies. Ronan had no idea who was at the door but he was going to find out. He walked out of the living room and yanked open the front door.

Standing on the brick steps was an older woman with short, grey hair cut into a stylish bob. She was wearing bright aqua cat’s eye style glasses and her bright blue eyes popped against the white flowing tunic she was wearing with matching white capri pants. “It’s nice to meet you Detective O’Mara.”

Ronan was long past the time when someone he’d never met before knowing his name would amaze or freak him out. He knew exactly who the woman standing on Truman’s front steps was. He’d spent the morning researching her on the internet. At this moment in time, it was a toss up between slamming the door in her face and hugging her to within an inch of her life. “Madam Aurora, what brings you here?”

The older woman smiled. “Why don’t you invite me in so I can explain this to everyone and I don’t waste time repeating myself.”

Ronan had to admit she had a point. If Tennyson didn’t want to see her, he could tell her to leave. For his part, Ronan wanted to hear what she had to say. “Come in. You may not get the warm reception you might be expecting from everyone.”

“I know exactly what I’m in for, detective. Bertha is a very direct woman, as I am sure you already know.”

Ronan did indeed. He also knew Bertha was like a mother tiger when it came to the people she loved. He had a feeling the meeting between these women had not gone well for Aurora. He ushered her into the house. “Everyone, this is Madam Aurora. Now, before you all assassinate me with your eyes, I did not invite her here.”

“Bertha invited me.  I go where I’m needed. I have the key. I’m here to unlock a door,” Aurora said, simply.

“Jesus Christ, she’s the psychic Mary Poppins.” Kevin snorted.

“Aurora, this is my boss, Kevin Fitzgibbon.”

Kevin held out his free hand, which the psychic shook. “Interesting. Get used to holding an infant, captain. There is one in your not too distant future with a man whose name starts with a J.”

The usually stoic cop paled. “You’re funny.”

“You’ll see.” She turned back to Ronan.

“This is Truman Wesley, Carson Craig’s husband.” Ronan pointed each man out.

“Ah yes, I read a great deal about the two of you in the paper after Carson’s little misfortune. You really should have listened to his visions, Truman.” Aurora raised an eyebrow at him.

“You call getting shot a little misfortune?” Carson asked incredulously.

“I’ll contribute to the swear jar on my way out,” she said with a grin. “And, of course, I know Tennyson.”

Ronan was waiting to see how Ten would react to seeing Madam Aurora after all these years, but he sat stone-still with a placid look on his face. Ronan was proud of him. He wouldn’t have been able to do what Ten was doing, but then again, there was so much riding on these next few minutes.

“Hello, Aurora,” Ten said.

“Bertha explained to me what you’ve been going through over these last few weeks. Then, after that, she told me in no uncertain terms why the blame for parts of this lay at my feet.” She smiled brightly at Tennyson.

“I’m listening.” Ten’s voice was tight, matching his posture.

Ronan thought she had a lot of nerve to be smiling like that, especially since she was admitting blame here.

“Every psychic needs a mentor. It’s why Cole and Carson sought you out. You taught them everything you knew, without holding any of your knowledge back. No one ever did that for you, Tennyson, and for that, I am truly sorry that I failed you. Salem is a small town and I was afraid I’d lose the business I worked so long and hard to build once people realized how good you were.”

“This is the real world, not kindergarten. I knew exactly what you were doing and why. I’ve gotten over that. I don’t hold it against you, but at the same time, I would never treat a young talent the way you treated me.”

“Bertha also made that very clear to me as well, about what a clean and pure soul you have.” She looked around the room at everyone and clapped her hands together. “Anyway, let’s get down to business. Tennyson, may I see some of the bruises?”

Ten raised an eyebrow at the psychic, but held out both of his arms to show her. Ronan walked over, hovering, needing to make sure this woman didn’t harm Ten in any way.

“If I give you my word not to hurt him, will you take a step back, detective?” Aurora frowned at him, while Sadie growled from Ten’s lap.

“Well, aren’t you five pounds of pure menace. I promise you I won’t hurt Tennyson either, okay?” She made kissy faces at the dog and looked at, but didn’t touch Tennyson.  Taking a few steps back, she closed her eyes and seemed to be taking a few deep breaths. “Wow, you really used the force, Luke. That door is shut good and tight.”

“The door to my gift?” Ten turned toward her. He took a deep breath of his own and tried to blow out all of the old resentment he held toward her. He’d made a success of himself and his life. All his bitterness toward the woman standing in front of him was holding him back. It sure as hell wasn’t hurting her.

“Yes. The first thing you need to learn how to do is open and close it freely, just like a toddler does with the refrigerator door. The second thing you need to do is work on your open and closed signs.”

“Open and closed signs? What, like you see in a shop window?” Ronan asked. He moved closer to Tennyson and slung an arm around his back. Sadie hopped into his lap and started licking his face.

Madam Aurora nodded. “If you’ve ever watched The Long Island Medium, she gives her little spiel about being ready to work and that’s her signal to the spirits in the room that she’s open for business. It’s not so much giving a speech to all the spirits around you. It’s more that you are opening yourself to the spirits already here. Ten has always been open. He never learned how to close the door. He closed the door for the first time with the force of his emotions during the tantrum. He’s never done it before, so he doesn’t know how to open it back up.”

It made perfect sense. “Is it that easy? I mean, do I just picture opening and closing a metaphorical door in my mind’s eye?” It couldn’t be that simple. He’d been trying to do that in various ways for weeks now. He’d been turning door knobs, crying out ‘Open sesame,’ twisting keys in locks, using a combination dial, clicking a hands-free remote fob like he used for his car. Nothing was opening his mental door.

“It’s going to be that easy once I show you how. Tell me what you’ve been doing in the meantime to try to get it back.”

Ten felt like he’d told this story a hundred times already. “I’ve had a massage and a facial. I learned how to do visualization exercises. Had bone melting sex on vacation with Ronan, took a bubble bath and Ronan pampered me.”

“Does Ronan have a straight older brother?” Aurora laughed. “Having beauty treatments are good. You are here to enjoy life and you spent a lot of years helping other people and not really taking care of yourself. You need to keep doing that once you’re back on track with your gift. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“You all heard him say that.” Aurora looked around the room, making eye contact with everyone. “Is it your intention to keep working cold cases with Ronan?”

Ten looked up at Ronan who was smiling at him. “So long as he still wants me working with him.”

“I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about there. The problem with working murder cases is that you are carrying around a lot more negativity. You are going to need to learn to deal with that or you’ll burn out quick. This kind of work is different from passing on messages from dear Aunt Babs or telling Dolly that her Nana misses her. You need to learn to let go of what you see or it will destroy you. This will manifest physically in things like headaches or sexual dysfunction, which makes having boundaries so much more important so you’ll have time to rest and recover, and to reconnect with Ronan. Does that all make sense?”

“It does,” Ten agreed.

“We’ll all make sure he stays balanced,” Kevin chimed in.

“Are you ready to give it a try?” Madam Aurora asked.

Was he? Was Ten ready to see spirits and hear their voices again? “Hell, yes!”

“Do you mind if I come sit next to you?”

Ten nodded and scooted a little closer to Ronan.

Aurora sat next to him. “Take my hands.”

Ten looked at the hands being held out to him. He took them both and shut his eyes.

Ronan had no idea what was going on. Both Ten and Aurora were silent. Both had their eyes closed. He couldn’t sense any tension in his lover’s body, but that didn’t mean that everything was okay either.

He looked over at Carson who was staring intently at what was going on, as were Truman and Fitzgibbon.

Moments later, Ten’s eyes popped open. He turned around to Ronan wrapping his arms around Ronan’s neck.

Ronan held him tight. “Are you okay.”

Ten nodded against his neck. “Bertha told me to hug you and never let you go. I promised her I would.”

“Bertha said?” Ronan pushed Ten back from him. “It’s back? You have your gift back?”

Ten nodded. “Your mom is here too. Boy, she was ready to kick my ass earlier, but she loves me and says I owe you one for being so patient and loving me so much.”

“Is that it or are there any other messages from the great beyond?” Ronan laughed.

“Don’t be a wiseass, young man!” Carson and Tennyson said together.

“I love you too, Mom!” Ronan meant it. He knew she had been looking out for Tennyson the whole time. Keeping him safe and making sure he was never alone. “Is there anything else Madam Aurora?”

“Tennyson should be all set from here. He has all the tools now that he needs so that this never happens again. He also knows that my door is always open as a mentor and as a friend if he has any other questions going forward. That also goes for Carson and for Cole too, if you’ll please pass that on to him for me?”

“Boy, Bertha must have really given her tree a good shake.” Truman laughed.

“Bertha Craig is very persuasive and has, shall we say, a rich vocabulary. I think you’ll find your daughter is her namesake in every possible way. She’ll be putting money in her own swear jar before too long.” Aurora stopped to place a hand on each of the babies, whispering a few words over them, before she turned to go.

“Did you mean what you said, Ma’am? About the man and the baby?” Kevin asked shyly.