Dead Silent

by Pandora Pine

  “Where do you think I learned it from? She was a single mother who had to fight for everything we had. I’m not ashamed to say I fight like a girl. My mother was the strongest person I’ve ever known, until I met you.”

  “You’re pretty strong too, you know. I know this relationship isn’t easy for you either after what happened between you and Josh.” Tennyson knew there were times when Ronan still struggled with the confession Josh had made to Ronan at the end of the Michael Frye case.

  Ronan studied his dinner for a minute. He reached for the ketchup and poured some out next to his fries. “I hate to contradict you, Nostradamus, but that’s where you’re wrong. I know that we are meant to be together. I also know that every day isn’t going to be a cake walk.”

  “You know that we’re meant to be together? I thought I was the psychic in this relationship?” Ten loved it when Ronan was all full of himself and cocky like this.

  “We’ve been through some bad shit in the last six months, Ten. All it’s done is make us stronger. Undefeatable. We hit a little bump in the road today and you said some things maybe you didn’t mean. I walked away, which stopped the fight in its tracks, but it was the wrong thing to do. I walked away from you when you needed me the most.”

  “I didn’t mean any of them, Ronan. It wasn’t your fault my gift was gone. You didn’t ruin my perfect life. The truth is, my life was lonely before I met you. I had Carson and Cole, but they were both married and starting families. I was always a third wheel with them until I met you. Thanks to you I have a new career and new friends like Fitzgibbon and the Abruzzis. I’m helping people in a way I never thought possible.”

  Ronan nodded. “But you’re exposed to things like guns and violence that you were never exposed to before. Things that could damage you in the long run. Hell, those things have already damaged me.”

  “I think I can help with that.” Ten grinned.

  “I’m listening.” Ronan took a bite of his lobster roll.

  “One of the things Aurora talked about was using meditation and yoga as a way of washing away the things I do and see when I’m on the job with you. It might be something we could practice together as a way of clearing our minds.” Tennyson didn’t need to be psychic to know Ronan was never going to go for this idea. The thought of them doing downward dog together was too ridiculous to even contemplate.

  “In a class with other people or here, just the two of us?” Ronan popped a French fry into his mouth.

  Okay, Ten wasn’t expecting that response. “Just the two of us. There’s this whole OnDemand channel that shows different yoga practitioners. We would just do the moves with him. Some of them even have guided meditations at the end.”

  Ronan was nodding and chewing. “What about that visualization stuff the masseuse taught you? Could I learn that too? I like the idea of sitting in a hammock at the beach.”

  “Okay, first of all, who are you and what have you done with my grumpy cat? Secondly, we’re going to get to do that very thing at Sand Dollar Shoal for two whole weeks. They have gorgeous hammocks set up for reading or sleeping. They also have couples’ massages. You’d like the stone massage. It’s very relaxing.”

  “If these things help you find a balance between our work and our home life and they can help me cope with the things that we see, then I say let’s do it.”

  “You’re really willing to do this? It’s not a thing you’re saying now because we’re making up?” Ten raised an eyebrow.

  “You know what they say? Happy wife, happy life, right?” Ronan laughed. “I want that happy life, Ten. If it takes me bending my body into a pretzel and taking deep breaths while picturing myself on a beach, then I’m in. I’m in this relationship come hell or high water, babe. I’m in it with you. I love you, Tennyson.”

  Ten couldn’t ask for more than that. “I’m in this relationship with you too, Ronan. I promise that the next time we hit a brick wall in our relationship, we’ll scale it together. I love you too.”

  Ronan winked at him from across the table. “Damn straight you do. Now eat up, so we can get to the ice cream. We’re gonna spend the rest of the night in front of the television relaxing. I hate to say this, but we’ve got to get back to work in the morning.”

  Tennyson didn’t mind at all. He was looking forward to getting back to the Owens case. When he flipped his “Open for Business” sign around in the morning, he hoped his first customer was going to be Harold Owens.

  34

  Ronan

  Tennyson was in the best mood Ronan had seen in nearly a month. When they got to the station house, he’d gone around to the other detectives shaking hands and asking about their families. Ronan thought he looked like a man gearing up to make a run for public office. Mayor Grimm, at your service.

  Once they were settled in at his desk, Ronan dove into his email, catching up on what he’d missed yesterday. He could see Tennyson working on his deep breathing and opening himself up to work. He said a silent prayer that Harold Owens would make an appearance. If Ten could speak with the murdered man’s spirit they could wrap up the case in time for their upcoming trip to Cape Cod.

  Ten opened his eyes. “There are several spirits here today, but none of them are Harold Owens. Shit!”

  Ronan started to laugh. It wasn’t like Tennyson to use that kind of language unless the situation really called for it. Knowing that Ten had an easier time connecting with specific spirits when he had an object that belonged to them, Ronan got an idea. “Why don’t we grab all of the case evidence and spread it out in one of the conference rooms?”

  “Are you thinking that maybe I’ll have a better chance of connecting with Harold Owens that way?” Ten was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Yeah, that was one of my thoughts, but it will also give us both a chance to really look at all of the physical evidence the techs collected. You never really know what will jump out at you, especially now that we know a bit more about all of the suspects.” It would also give Ronan a chance to see if there were any details the techs missed.

  “And I’ve never had a chance to handle the evidence at all with my gift working. I might be able to get some impressions that way too.”

  Ronan could see relief in Tennyson’s eyes that he would be able to contribute again. He could also hear the confidence growing in Ten’s voice. “It’s a date.” Ronan drained his coffee cup and spun out of his seat.

  After checking the boxes out of the evidence room, they brought them up to a conference room just down the hall from Ronan’s desk. Ronan started unpacking the box that contained the murder weapon, a two-by-four, which was still crusted with Harold Owens blood and brains. He had a feeling Tennyson wasn’t going to want to touch this, but it might be the most useful item here. There were other personal items in this box as well.

  He looked over at Ten who had the box of Harold’s personal items. Ten was laying out the clothes Harold was wearing that awful night. A bloodstained New England Patriots sweatshirt in a sealed plastic evidence bag was set down on the table, followed by similarly stained, faded blue jeans. Harold’s underwear, tee-shirt and socks were also in the box.

  “Okay, this is everything.” Ronan stood back from the table. He grabbed four latex gloves from a nearby box and handed two of them to Tennyson. “Glove up before you touch anything.”

  Ten nodded and did as Ronan asked. He walked back and forth down the table examining each of the items before he reached out to touch anything. The first item he picked up was Harold’s wallet.

  Ronan remembered handing this to Tennyson at the start of the investigation, back before he’d known Tennyson had lost his gift. He hoped Ten would be more successful touching it this time.

  “It’s heavy, like his whole life was in here. I can feel that there’s old business cards and cancelled checks in here.” Ten looked puzzled.

  “Why would a man carry around cancelled checks?” Ronan had never heard of such a thing before.

  “Can I pull out the
wallet?” Ten asked.

  “Yeah, that’s why you’re wearing the gloves.” Ronan was just as curious as Ten seemed to be to find out what Harold Owens kept in his wallet.

  Ten grabbed the plastic bag with the wallet inside. He sat down next to Ronan and slipped the worn black leather out to land in his hands.

  Ronan was filled with nervous energy. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Tennyson if Harold was here with them, but he knew if that was the case, Ten would speak out loud to the spirit. Since that wasn’t happening, Harold wasn’t here.

  Ten unfolded the wallet and opened the billfold. “Looks like there’s some cash in here.”

  “That’s odd it wasn’t catalogued and given back to Maxine.” Ronan shook his head. There was item number one that the techs had missed. No investigation was perfect, but this wasn’t off to a good start if they were finding oversights on the first item. Ronan grabbed his legal pad and jotted down notes.

  “Here are the checks.” Tennyson pulled them out. “This one is made out to Hope for five thousand dollars. The memo line says ‘tuition.’” Ten handed Ronan the check.

  Ronan flipped the check over to see the bank stamp and found so much more than that. “Holy shit! It’s his account log of her paying him back.”

  “What?” Ten leaned over to see what Ronan was reading.

  “Look at his tiny printing.” Ronan turned the check around for Ten to see what he’d already read. The bank stamp was there, but there was also line after line of dates and amounts of money that Hope had paid back, along with a notation of how much she still owed him.

  “The last line said she paid this loan off in full back in 1992. Why on earth would he still have this check in his wallet five years later?” Tennyson looked stunned.

  “To hold over her head,” Ronan said simply. It was the only answer that made sense.

  “Here’s another one.” Ten held up another blue check. “It’s made out to Shawn for seventy-five hundred dollars. The memo says ‘plumbing school.’” Ten flipped the check over. “Huh, he never finished paying this off. Says here that he still owed his father five thousand dollars. You think that’s enough reason to kill him?”

  “I’ve seen people kill each other for a lot less.” It added one more scratch in the column for why Shawn should be their lead suspect, that was for sure. “What’s the last one you’re holding for?”

  “Last one is made out to Maxine, but it doesn’t make any sense.” Ten shot Ronan a confused look.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The front of the check is voided, but on the back is an accounting of something.” Ten handed it over to Ronan.

  Ronan flipped it over and started reading the lines. It looked to be dated once a week for nearly the entire year of 1997 and was for varying amounts of money. “Ten, use your phone and tell me what day of the week December 21, 1997 was.” Ronan had a feeling he knew what the entries on this check were for.

  “It’s a Sunday. Why? Did you figure it out?” Ten peered over Ronan’s arm to look at the check.

  “I think so. All of the dates on this check are Sundays. What do most people shop for on Sundays?” Ronan shook his head.

  “Groceries. Are you serious? He was keeping track of what she was spending on food?” Ten wore a shocked look on his face.

  “It looks that way. We’re sure as hell gonna ask Maxine the next time we speak to her.”

  “She was a retired school teacher. She had a pension. It wasn’t like they lived this 1950’s Leave it to Beaver lifestyle where Harold earned all of the money.” Ten shrugged. “I hate to say this, Ronan, but a thing like this could push a good woman over the edge. I mean, look at the way the total for December 21st is underlined with angry-looking slashes of pen. None of the other totals are marked that way and it’s the highest amount spent in the year.”

  “Shawn said that they had a prime rib for dinner the night Harold was killed. That’s an expensive cut of meat. You have to figure Maxine shopped for the week in addition to shopping for the Christmas meal. They usually ate meals for three people, but with Shawn and Debbie there for dinner, they were cooking for five.” Ronan could see the motive pendulum swinging back toward Maxine.

  “You’re thinking Maxine could have killed him. I can see it in your eyes. If it was her, why didn’t she take this check out of his wallet?”

  “It isn’t proof of anything. I’m betting you that if we ask her what it is, she’ll tell us without hesitation that Harold always kept track of the grocery budget like this. What’s obvious from all three checks combined is that Harold ruled the checkbook with an iron fist and he wasn’t above holding the purse strings over his family’s heads.”

  “That kind of treatment can build resentment over time,” Ten said.

  “Agreed.” Ronan sighed. This put all three family members squarely in his crosshairs. What he’d never considered before is what if Maxine and Hope were in on it together. “What if it was a tag-team effort?”

  “What, you think they killed Harold together?” Ten frowned. He went back to the wallet and started looking at the other things shoved into the pockets. Harold’s driver’s license was in there along with a long-expired Mastercard and a Sears card. Behind the Sears card, Tennyson pulled out a business card. “Matt Bryant, Carpenter. Got an address in Dorchester.”

  “There’s another question for Maxine. Why did Harold have a carpenter’s business card in his wallet?”

  “There’s the downside to cold cases, not getting to see the fresh crime scene. All we have are pictures. What if there was fresh construction work done in a part of the house not photographed?” Tennyson looked disturbed. “That could explain where the murder weapon came from. Left over lumber from a building project.”

  “Or, that Bryant guy was handing out cards at the local Sears and Harold shoved his card into his wallet behind his Sears card. No crime in that.” Ronan picked up the case notes he’d brought with him. He handed Ten the photos. “These are all the crime scene photos we have. Why don’t you go through those? I’ll read the case notes.” Not bothering to wait for an answer, Ronan started reading. He’d been through these notes so many times, he knew them by heart. He didn’t remember reading anything about recent construction, but where else could the murder weapon have come from?”

  “I don’t see any pictures of new construction, but the photographs here are only of Harold’s body and the state of the living room.” Ten handed the pictures back to Ronan.

  Ronan shrugged. “That makes sense. No other part of the house was disturbed. There was no blood transferred beyond the living room.”

  “How is that possible? The killer whacked Harold several times. There must have been blood all over them, right?”

  “There would have been cast-off from the murder weapon. It’s possible the killer stripped off their clothes and wiped themselves down with them before leaving the crime scene.” Ronan had wondered the same thing. There had been no other traces of blood in the house. This was another reason he’d wondered if mother and daughter were in it together. If the killer had been streaked with blood, the accomplice could have helped wipe it off to prevent transfer through the rest of the house.

  “Okay, but what about when the cops got to the house? How would they have missed finding bloody clothes when Maxine and Hope were the only people in the house?”

  “Maybe there weren’t any bloody clothes to find.” Ronan scrubbed his hands through his hair.

  Ten’s eyes widened. “Okay, so you’re saying either Harold’s murderer was naked or there were no bloody clothes in the house because the killer wore them out with him?”

  Ronan clapped his hands in front of him. “This case is making me crazy. No wonder the original detectives never made an arrest.”

  “And they were only dealing with two suspects. They didn’t even consider Shawn.”

  “Exactly,” Ronan agreed. “And with Debbie and Ophelia at the hospital until 6am the next morning, he would have h
ad plenty of time to drive from Dorchester back to Portsmouth, shower and dispose of his bloody clothes.”

  “We’re no closer to solving this case now than before.” Tennyson sighed heavily.

  “What about the murder weapon?” Ronan tugged the bag containing the two-by-four closer to him.

  “What about it?’ Ten eyed him warily, as if he knew what was coming.

  “If you held it, could you possibly get any impressions?” Ronan pushed the wood in front of Tennyson.

  “Okay. I’ll give it a try.” Ten took a deep breath and seemed to be studying the piece of wood. He held his hands out in front of him, letting them hover over the lumber before finally setting them down on top of it. His eyes slid shut for a moment or two before they popped back open again. “I’m sorry, Ronan. I’m not getting anything with my gift.”

  “It’s okay, Ten. It was worth a shot.” The murder had taken place twenty years ago. He wasn’t an expert here on psychic residue, if that was even a thing, but that was an awfully long time for anything of a psychic nature to be left from the killer clinging to the item.

  “Ronan, what is this blue stain on the wood?” Ten was holding the murder weapon up closer to his face.

  “What blue stain?” Ronan moved closer to examine the wood. He could see what Tennyson was talking about. “Hmm, let me see if a sample of it was taken and examined by the lab back in ’97.” He grabbed the casefile already knowing the answer to the question. There was no mysterious blue stain mentioned in lab report.

  When it came to the murder weapon, the only testing that had been done on the piece of lumber was on the blood and brain matter at the other end of it. DNA testing confirmed that it belonged to Harold Owens. Well, duh…

  “We need to get this back to trace,” Ronan said. “We’ll ask them to test this blue stain and also swab the other end for DNA evidence.”

  “Hold on,” Ten sounded shocked. “Are you saying the original detectives never asked to have the other end tested for the murderer’s DNA? How is that possible?”