by Pandora Pine
Cope shook his head. “I agree that he’s spurring on a lot of hate, Ronan, but I’ve been out of the spotlight for two years now. I can’t imagine someone coming after me because of the hateful rhetoric coming out of the White House.” Cope threw a hand over his mouth as he yawned.
“Okay, interview’s over.” Jude stood up and reached for Copeland’s hand. “You’re going back to bed.” He pulled the psychic to his feet and headed toward the fridge where he grabbed a bottle of water. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Time to tuck you in.”
“I’m a big boy. I can put myself to bed. Thank you very much.” Not that Cope didn’t like the idea of Jude taking care of him.
“Yeah, well. You’re getting an escort whether you want one or not.” Jude grabbed his elbow and started dragging Copeland toward the kitchen door.
“Can’t you do anything about this Detective O’Mara?” Copeland protested weakly.
“Not my jurisdiction. Sweet dreams.” Ronan laughed. “Come right back, Jude! No trying to get into his pants!”
“Eat a dick, Ronan!” Jude growled.
“That’s what I’m trying to prevent!” Ronan shouted back.
“Do I even want to know what that was about?” Copeland asked as Jude led him into the spare bedroom.
“Nope!” Jude’s eyes lost focus as he stared off in space.
Copeland couldn’t help wonder what Ronan and Jude were shouting over. Not being able to read the man was a real pain in the ass although he supposed it leveled the playing field between them. That was something Copeland wasn’t used to. He was about to tell the P.I. that very thing when he yawned. “Jude?” The man was still staring off into space. Whatever the hell he was thinking about must be good. He was getting hard right in front of Cope like Ronan warned about.
“Jude!” Copeland shouted.
“Yeah, sorry.” Jude shook his head. “I was thinking about something else.”
“I can see that.” Cope pointed at Jude’s zipper.
Looking down, Jude blushed. “I’m so sorry, Copeland. I’ll be right back.” He headed toward the door.
“No, stay. It’s fine. I’ve seen guys get hard over me before. I suppose I should be flattered.” Cope shrugged and moved toward the bed. He started to straighten the covers. He had to admit Jude wasn’t a bad looking man. He was about 6’4” with his short dark hair and hazel eyes. His legs were long and his shoulders were broad and heavily muscled. Jude was a man who took care of himself, that was for sure.
Jude’s lips quirked into a brief smile. “Tell me how I can help.”
Copeland sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at his hands. They’d once been the source of such great power for him. Now they were almost useless. “I’m not sure anyone can help get to the bottom of this.” Cope looked up to meet Jude’s eyes. “I had this life back home that was so amazing. I opened Skullduggery in the aftermath of Katrina. People were wondering if New Orleans could ever come back from that. I was determined to be part of the chorus of voices shouting, ‘Hell, yes!’” Cope found a smile. “I worked so hard to build my reputation and my business. I partnered with the other psychics in the neighborhood. We did street fairs with free readings and got the other shops in the area to join us. We rebuilt our neighborhood. I found my place in this world.” Cope could feel the tears coming and had a feeling he was going to be helpless to stop them.
Jude moved to sit next to him on the bed. He didn’t touch the psychic or reach out to him, he just sat close.
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to find a place where people love you for who you are. Where you’re accepted in spite of the differences that make you stand out.” Cope shrugged. “Shit, you want to talk about having the deck stacked against you? Try rich, psychic, gay, witch.”
Jude snorted. “Now hold on a second. One of those things isn’t like the other. Did you say rich?”
Cope nodded. Here it comes… Talking to people about his family’s money was almost as bad as telling people about being gay, which was almost as bad as telling them about the psychic-witch thing. “My father was part of the Louisiana Forbes family. His money came from natural gas.”
“I could give two fucks if your father is from East Butt Fuck branch of the Forbes family.” Jude laughed. “What I meant was, what does having money have to do with the deck being stacked against you? If anything, I’d think that would give you more freedom. Wasn’t the word eccentric coined for weird, monied southerners like you?”
A huge weight dropped from Cope’s shoulders at hearing Jude’s casual explanation about money. He wasn’t interested in it at all, just wondering where it came into play in his own history. Cope could work with that. “Certain things are expected of you when you come from a family like that. Even though my mother was a legacy witch, it was my father’s bloodline I was expected to continue. The south is all about tradition. Family.” Copeland shrugged. “I went to the University of New Orleans. Got a degree in business management so that I’d be equipped to open my own shop, but that was it. I wasn’t interested in Harvard Business School or in board meetings. My father wanted to disown me, but my mother threatened to divorce him. She was my biggest champion…” Cope trailed off. Now was not the time to walk down that particular path of memory lane.
Jude looked over at the psychic. He seemed to be studying him. “Give me a place to start, Copeland.” There was almost a pleading tone to Jude’s voice. “Someone is doing this to you intentionally. They’re killing you by inches. Like you said, Deacon would come after you and kill you face to face, but whoever this person is, they’re playing the long game. They like the idea of you suffering, of this being drawn out. That’s sadistic. It also shows a high level of planning. I would think you’d be able to pick the name out of your brain instantly. Someone who has this kind of a grudge against you should be so easy to identify, but sitting here thinking about all the men I’ve known…” Jude trailed off.
“You just don’t know who’s capable of snapping, right? Which one of your previous lovers had this kind of thing in them?”
Jude nodded. The look in his eyes held fear. “I didn’t know any of them much beyond their names and sometimes I didn’t even know that. They could have wanted more. They could have…” He shivered in the warm room.
Cope understood the visceral reaction Jude was having. It had been hard enough to see a casual relationship with Deacon go from fun to terrifying in the blink of an eye. “I never knew Deacon was capable of the things he did. We were just casual lovers. At least we were from my perspective. It was fun. I was thirty-five. He was ten years younger than me. It felt good that someone that many years younger found me attractive. Then there was the sex…” Cope shook his head. Mercy, the way that boy had tied his body in knots, but the short-lived pleasure hadn’t been worth the pain of the last few years. It hadn’t been worth nearly bleeding to death on the black and white tiled floor of Skullduggery.
“Let’s get you into bed.” Jude stood up, motioning for Copeland to do the same. He pulled back the covers and got the other man settled in, resuming his seat next to Cope. “What’s next for you when we figure this out?”
Cope shrugged. “I don’t know. I never give a thought to anything further away than today.” He wiggled into a more comfortable position. He could feel sleep tugging at him. “Call Onyx in New Orleans. Tell him I’m with Tennyson Grimm here in Salem. I’m sure he’ll know the name. Then, tell him the code word is General Beauregard. Ask him for my client list. He’ll be able to send it to you.”
Jude started to laugh. “General Beauregard is your code word?”
“It’s uniquely southern and he was one hell of a man.” Cope shot Jude a sleepy smile.
“You mean his Civil War record made him one hell of a man?” Jude sounded confused.
Cope was impressed that Jude knew the general’s place in history. He shook his head. “No, I mean he was one hell of a man. Onyx and I channeled him for his three times great-granddaugh
ter and the stories he told. Mercy! He talked for two solid hours. Best damn night of my professional life.”
“You ever meet any other celebrities?” Jude grinned.
“Who do you want to meet, Jude?” Copeland was intrigued.
“Steve McQueen. He was something. Cool. Confident. Hot as fuck.” Jude laughed.
“I’ll tell you what. Get me out of this alive and I’ll see what I can do about setting that up for you. No promises, but I’ll do my best.” Copeland yawned.
“Sleep well. Sweet dreams.” Jude stood up to go.
“Are you gonna stand guard?” He liked the idea of Jude being outside the door keeping him safe.
“No one’s going to get to you. Not while I’m here.” Jude turned and left the room.
Shutting his eyes, Cope knew he’d sleep well. Jude had his back.
8
Jude
“Well that was fast.” Ronan snickered.
“Don’t make me punch you in front of your husband.” Jude went to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of orange juice. He almost drank right from the mouth, but remembered at the last minute this wasn’t his house and grabbed a glass.
“Did you pump him for information?” Ronan was biting his lower lip.
“How do you not punch him?” Jude asked Tennyson.
“I remind myself he’s got friends who are experts in advanced forensics.” Ten waggled his eyebrows.
Jude was the one laughing now. “As a matter of fact, there was no pumping required. Copeland told me how to get some leads. A lot of them by the sound of it.”
“What do you mean?” Ten turned from his seat at the table to look at Jude.
“Before he went into hiding, Copeland left all of his data with Onyx Kerr. He told me to call him and let him know Cope is with you and to use a code word.”
“A code word?” Ronan sounded surprised. “What, like what parents give their kids so they don’t go off with strangers?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jude looked at Ronan like he was one donut shy of a dozen.
“When I was a kid, we had that Stranger Danger campaign. My mom and I had a code word so that if someone tried to tell me she’d been hurt and I needed to go with them, I’d ask for the code word and if they couldn’t give it to me, I’d know their story was bullshit and I’d run away.” Ronan grinned.
Jude had never heard of such a thing. They didn’t really have to worry about strangers on the reservation. Everyone who lived there looked the same. With the exception of him. He shook his head. It didn’t do to think about that now. “What was the code word?”
Ronan blushed furiously. “I don’t remember. Why don’t we get in touch with Onyx while Cope’s asleep?” He cleared his throat and went for his notebook.
Oh, no! Jude knew damn well that Ronan remembered the code word. That’s why he was blushing down to the roots of his sandy blond hair. “Spill it, Ronan. Or I’ll pay Ten to pull it out of your skull.” Jude turned to Tennyson who was giggling with a hand slapped over his mouth. Ten already knew what it was.
“Fine, but I swear to God, asshole, one crack about it and I’ll beat your ass. Got it?” Ronan raised an eyebrow at Jude, as if to hammer home his threat.
“Hand to God.” Jude held his left hand up, but crossed the fingers on his right which was hidden under the table.
“It was Fraggle Rock,” Ronan muttered.
Jude looked at Tennyson who was barely hanging on. He was chewing on his bottom lip so hard, Jude was surprised he wasn’t drawing blood. “Fraggle Rock? The Jim Henson Muppet show? With Bobo and Red?”
“His name was Gobo, dumbass.” Ronan rolled his eyes.
Tennyson snickered. That did it for Jude. He started hooting along with Ten. Who knew Detective Hardass had a softer side?
“You know what? Fuck you both!” Ronan started to laugh too. “It kept me from getting kidnapped and that was the point.”
For some reason that made Jude howl even harder. The idea of someone snatching up little Ronan only to realize just what they’d gotten themselves into. It was too much. “They would have returned you, Ronan, with a note pinned to your shirt apologizing for the trouble they caused.”
“Funny, asshole. Now can we get to work?” Ronan flipped through his phone. I’m dialing now. You think you two hyenas can pull yourselves together and at least try to act professional?”
Tennyson stuck out his tongue.
“I’m surrounded by toddlers.” Ronan tapped the button on his phone.
“Blessed be, thank you for calling Hex, New Orleans,” a Cajun accented man’s voice answered.
“Hi, I’m looking for Onyx Kerr.”
“You’ve found him, Detective O’Mara. How can I help you today?” There was an obvious grin in Onyx’s voice.
“Shit, I’ll never get used to people knowing my friggen name before I tell them what it is.” Ronan shivered, rubbing his hands over his shoulders.
Onyx laughed. It was a deep and rich sound. “Don’t blame my many gifts totally. Your name came up on the caller ID and with the 617 area code I dipped into my gift and put two and two together. Plus, I could feel Tennyson and Cope’s energy. I’m glad he’s found his way to you, Tennyson.”
“Hello, Onyx. I’m glad he’s here too.” Ten bit his lower lip and looked up at Jude.
He saw what he thought was shame in the psychic’s eyes. What did Tennyson have to feel ashamed about?
“Don’t hit me with that Yankee guilt, Tennyson. I’m nowhere near as famous as you.” Onyx snorted. “I didn’t expect you to have ever heard of me before. Now, who dat blank space sitting with y’all. He’s like trying to read a pot of shrimp etouffee. Dense and spicy.”
Okay, that was a new one. Jude had never heard anyone describe him like that before. “My name is Jude Byrne. I’m a private investigator. Copeland showed up on Tennyson and Ronan’s doorstep last night looking for me.”
“Shit, you’re Jude Byrne?” Onyx sounded like he was all business now.
Jude had no idea why his name suddenly turned the conversation from casual to professional, but he was ready to get some answers. “Copeland made it sound like he’d left some sensitive information with you before he went into hiding. He gave me a code word, General Beauregard, that is supposed to tell you he’s with me, but it sounds like you already know that.”
“Yeah. Like I said I can feel his energy and it’s not good, Jude.”
“We know that,” Tennyson chimed in. “He’s under some kind of psychic attack. We had a friend of ours, Dempsey McMillan, put some charms on the house and on Cope to protect him, but he’s in bad shape. He looks like he’s lost a ton of weight and he’s suffering from migraines and physical pain too. Not to mention what this is doing to his psyche.”
“Especially when you add that to what he’s already been through.” Onyx sighed. It was a world-weary sound. “Who does he think is doing this to him? That fucker Boudreaux?”
“Copeland seems pretty convinced it isn’t Deacon.” Jude hated the way that man’s name felt in his mouth. He wanted to spit in the sink just to get the taste of it off his tongue. “He thinks when Deacon comes back, it will be in person, to finish off what he started.”
“That black-hearted coullion. I’d skin him myself if I could find him…” Onyx trailed off.
“How could he have just fallen off the face of the earth like that?” Ronan asked.
“In my humble opinion I think he had this planned out. He’d stopped stalking Cope for almost three weeks. He’d gotten him to let down his guard, so that he wasn’t as prepared when he came at him that day. Then when he’d done the deed there, Deacon walked out of the shop and disappeared. It was the next day before Cope was conscious and cognizant enough to tell the popo what happened and who did this to him.”
“What about you?” Jude challenged. “Why couldn’t you tell the police it was Deacon Boudreaux?” Jesus Christ, all these fucking psychics and none of them were worth the powder to b
low them all to hell.
“I was in the shop working on a spell for a client. I wasn’t aware of anything going on with Copeland. I’m psychic, Jude, not a superhero. My powers aren’t of an all-knowing oracle that scans the city looking for crime. I can’t possibly be aware of what’s going on with all of the people in my sphere all the time. It would be fucking exhausting. Tennyson, help me out here.” Onyx sounded exhausted just from the explanation.
“Jude knows how our gifts work. He’s just got a soft spot for Copeland.”
Jude raised an eyebrow at Tennyson. He did not have a soft spot. “The man has been through the ringer and it isn’t over yet. I’m just asking why no one was there to protect him.”
“I feel much safer saying this from over a thousand miles away, me.” Onyx took a breath. “Change comes in many forms, Jude. Copeland knew there were winds of change on his horizon. Neither one of us knew they were Cat five hurricane force. He’s landed where he’s meant to blossom.”
“You sound like a fucking fortune cookie,” Jude growled. This was getting them nowhere.
Onyx chuckled. “Did you ever stop to think those messages are meant for you, Jude, or do you just toss them on the table after you laugh at the sentiment with your flavor of the night?”
Okay, that hit a little close to home. How the fuck was this guy able to read him? No one should be able to read him.
“What information did Copeland leave with you before he went to ground?” Ronan asked. He wore a look that said he saw Jude’s discomfort with how close to the bullseye Onyx’s last dart had landed.
“I don’t know. It’s a flash drive, but I’ve never opened it.” Onyx was quiet for a minute. “His client list is on it and there’s another file marked miscellaneous.”
“Miscellaneous?” Ten looked up at Jude with surprise registering on his face. “What’s in it?”
“Don’t know.” Onyx chuckled. “The flash drive is still locked away.”
“Then how the hell do you know what’s on it?” Jude had reached the end of his patience with the psychics in his sphere today. Shit, now he was using Copeland’s lingo. He needed a fucking drink and this house was dry as the Sahara, thanks to Ronan’s stint in rehab.
