by Pandora Pine
Fitzgibbon’s mouth dropped open but no sound came out.
“You’ve been protecting us all along, Nostradamus.” Ronan reached out his hand.
“Yes. I would never let anything happen to any of you. I asked Madam Aurora to come over and do a walk-through of the house with me before we moved in. I have a feeling the reason Mark yanked you down off the stairs is because he couldn’t follow you up them because of the spell. Well, he could have followed you, but Jacobson couldn’t have, to be more precise.” Tennyson turned to Fitzgibbon. “I would never do anything to put your son in danger, Kevin. I know how much Greeley has been through. I want to make sure Jacobson shows up and to do that, I think we need as many of us in the room as possible.”
“Where were you planning on having this little séance?” Ronan asked.
“I was thinking of doing it at the shop, but since Cole and his family live in the apartment above it, I’m thinking of asking Aurora if we can do it at her shop instead. I don’t want to put Cassie and Laurel in any danger either.” Tennyson knew Madam Aurora owed him a favor and this might just be the time and reason to cash it in.
“I want to be there. Maybe you could sign me out for the night, like Vann Hoffman did with the cap when they went to see Jacobson’s body in the morgue?” Ronan yawned again.
Tennyson opened his mouth to object. Kevin holding up a hand stopped him at the last minute. “Why don’t you take a little nap and we can talk more about this later.”
Ronan was asleep before Tennyson finished his sentence.
“Why were you trying to stop me from answering him?” Ten whispered to Kevin.
“He’s in no shape to go anywhere except to sleep.”
Tennyson couldn’t argue with that. “We’re gonna have to do this with him on Skype or Facetime. I’m not gonna risk his life for this, Kevin. I’ll have Truman come stay here with him while we do this.”
“Do you think Greeley will be safe if Rod Jacobson’s spirit shows up?”
It was a loaded question. “Let me put it to you this way, if this was a horror movie and we all left Greeley alone in the house to go somewhere else, what would you be shouting at the movie screen?”
“He comes with us.” Fitzgibbon’s voice brooked no argument.
35
Nothing was going according to plan. Ronan O’Mara was still alive. Three bullets to the chest should have killed the motherfucker instantly and somehow not only had he survived that moment, but he was awake and talking.
Kill list 5. Killer 0.
Maybe he should have chosen someone else to help him finish his work. So far, the boy he’d picked had only been capable of killing teenagers his own age. To be fair though, O’Mara must have had fucking angels who guided the trajectory of those bullets. No one should have been able to have survived one of those shots, never mind all three of them.
The boy had been easy enough to control and overpower which had been key to his plan. Teenagers as a general rule were headstrong and combative, but this boy, with intense need for love and acceptance had been as easy to overpower as a newborn kitten.
He was in charge now and that was all that mattered. It was like he was back from the dead. He was alive again. He stretched the boy’s arms and moved his fingers in front of him as if he were playing the piano. It wasn’t the body he would have chosen, 5’6” and weak as a newborn kitten to boot, which was also one of the downfalls of teenage boys, but this body was better than his old dead one, that was for damn sure.
Now that he was mobile and able to get around whatever kind of protection spells Tennyson Grimm was casting around his home, he was in a much better position to get to the people on his kill list. The question was, who was he going to start with?
Ronan O’Mara was off the table until he was released from the hospital. According to the boy’s “Daddy,” Tony Abruzzi, Ronan was only allowed to have a few visitors at a time. Neither Carlie nor Tony were on the short list of people able to get in to see Ronan. Not that he had a snowball’s chance in hell of being able to control either one of the do-gooding Abruzzis, but it had crossed his mind to try. He hadn’t reached the point in his end game to go in with a victory-at-all-costs mentality. Yet.
It would be useless to go after Tennyson Grimm at this stage in the game since Detective Smartass wasn’t going to be around to watch his precious psychic die. What good was it to inflict pain when the person you wanted to hurt most wasn’t there to watch?
He would also wait to kill Captain Kevin Fitzgibbon for the same reason. Which of course left Jace Lincoln and the one who got away. Fucking Greeley Hanks! Or Greeley Fitzgibbon as he was now known as. Only that little piss-ant could elude his grasp twice and end up getting fucking adopted by a Boston Police captain.
Jace Lincoln, was stuck high up in his ivory tower swimming in his dead father’s millions. Rumor had it Jace was head over heels in love with the fair Captain Fitzgibbon. He laughed. The sound was different in his ears in a voice that he still wasn’t used to.
Jesus Fucking Christ, this kid’s voice hadn’t even broken yet. No matter. What made this particular piece of gossip so delicious was the source. Matthew Lincoln himself had been the one to tell him that his faggot son was in love with the captain. Not that he was overly fond of Lincoln’s terminology, but the news was irresistible.
Jace Lincoln was already on his kill list for having the balls to turn down his advances, but now to be unabashedly in love with Fitzgibbon? Apparently, Jace had run out of his father’s wake hand in hand with the captain. What a fucked up world this was if Lincoln preferred Fitzgibbon over him. Not that he was actually in the world anymore for Jace Lincoln to choose from, but that would be remedied soon enough.
Everyone on his list would be joining him on the other side in good time.
All he had to do now was decide who was next…
36
Ronan
“Who does Daddy love? Hmm?” Ronan cooed. “His little puddums.” He made kissy faces up against the laptop camera.
Dixie barked again and put her nose against the screen as if she could touch Ronan.
Greeley laughed. “She’s losing her mind, Ronan! I haven’t seen her this happy since before you were…” Greeley trailed off. “Since before.”
“It’s okay to say it, kid. Before I was shot.” Ronan smiled at the two of them on his laptop screen. Now that he’d been moved out of ICU and into a regular room, he had a lot more freedom as to what he was allowed to have. Tennyson had brought his laptop this afternoon.
“I’m looking forward to coming to see you tomorrow. It’s been too long.” Greeley looked like he was tearing up.
“You understand why your Dad put such strong restrictions on who could come in to see me, right?”
Greeley swiped at his eyes. Dixie hopped up into his lap to help with the clean-up. “Yeah, I get that he was afraid that jackass, Jacobson, might try to kill you again. Plus, Dad said my name was on the list too…” Greeley picked the puppy off the keyboard and cuddled her against his face.
Ronan shook his head. This kid was something else. He was seventeen-years-old and had already been disowned by his foster parents and nearly killed twice by a sadistic serial killer. He’d made it through ninety days in rehab and was about to graduate with his GED. If all went well, he’d be starting college soon. Just when everything was finally coming up roses for this hard-luck kid, he finds out his name is on some kind of assassination list. “You know we’re doing everything we can to keep you safe, right?”
Greeley nodded his head and took a deep breath. He set Dixie back down on the table. She bounced back over to the computer screen where she started licking Ronan’s face. “Eww, Dixie!” Greeley laughed. “Ten said that he and Madam Aurora put some kind of spell on the house that would keep Jacobson out, so that made me feel better, but…”
“But what?” Ronan felt a shiver of fear tingle down his spine.
“They still haven’t arrested Mark yet. What if Mark
comes back here? There’s nothing to stop him from walking up to the door. Or from jumping out from behind a tree. Or from using a rifle with a scope.” Greeley shook his head. “All of the curtains and shutters are drawn here, Ronan. Even during the day. I can’t go outside. We’ve got Dixie doing her business on newspapers in the kitchen. I feel like I’m going stir-crazy.”
“Just between the two of us, your father is executing the arrest warrant for Mark Abruzzi as we speak.”
“Seriously, Uncle Ronan?” Greeley’s smile lit up the screen.
Ronan nodded. “That’s why neither of them is home with you right now. Who is there with you now?”
“No one. It’s just me and Dixie.”
Hearing her name, the puppy bounced away from the computer and into Greeley’s lap.
“I’m glad you’re here, girl. I’d go nuts if I was totally alone.”
“Where are Carson and Truman?” Ronan didn’t like the fact that the kid was totally alone, even if Tennyson had put some kind of blessing on the house.
“The babies aren’t feeling well. Carson said something about them throwing and going?” Greeley shrugged. He looked confounded by that phrase. “He also said that Inez and Luisa had been with them so much that he and Truman would handle their little minions alone tonight, but that I was welcome to come over. I think they just wanted an extra set of hands.”
“I think so too!” Ronan couldn’t blame them for wanting a night alone with their babies. Greeley was old enough to spend a few hours by himself, but he would still feel better if someone were home with the kid. “Are you going over there to hang out with them later?”
“I kinda want some time to myself. Things have been crazy here lately and I haven’t had a lot of time to study.”
That sounded reasonable enough to Ronan. He didn’t know that information himself since he wasn’t allowed to have his phone in the hospital. He was about to ask Greeley about how his studying was going for his GED finals when Dixie started doing the pee-pee dance on the table.
“I’ll be right back, Uncle Ronan. Gotta take the little Princess to pee. Haha! Get it? Princess to pee!” Greeley laughed at his own corny joke and scooped the little dog off the dining room table. A second later, he heard the back door open and close.
While Greeley was gone Ronan reached for his water pitcher and glass. He refilled his cup and took a long sip through the straw. He still half-expected the water to pour out through his bullet holes like it did in the old Tom and Jerry cartoons after Tom would step on a rake.
Ronan was about to refill his water cup again when he realized that he heard the door. Greeley wasn’t supposed to leave the house. According to Tennyson, he’d set up pads and newspapers so that Dixie could do her business in the kitchen until the situation with Mark Abruzzi was over and done with.
Checking the clock on his laptop, Ronan could see that five minutes had passed since Greeley had walked away from the computer. Dixie was a tiny dog. It shouldn’t take that long for her to do her business even if she sniffed every blade of grass in their postage stamp of a backyard.
There was something wrong. Ronan could feel it in his gut. Damn the hospital for not letting him have his cell phone with him. He understood that the doctors and nurses were afraid he’d spend all of his time on the phone instead of resting, but Jesus Christ, with all the time the hospital staff spent coming into and out of his room, who the hell had the opportunity to rest?
Ronan tried to shimmy over toward the far side of his hospital bed. The room phone was sitting on the nightstand that was pushed up against the far wall and there was no way he could reach it from where he was on the bed. He was still hooked up to tubes and wires that went to the different machines. His only hope now was to ring the buzzer to the nurse’s station. He didn’t just buzz it once, he laid on the damn thing. It was so loud, he could hear it from his bed.
“For the love of God, Mr. O’Mara, where’s the fire?” A tired and put-upon nurse asked when she entered the room.
“The phone! I need the phone. There’s something wrong with my nephew.” Ronan could feel the fear and panic clawing up his throat.
“I’m sure everything is fine, Mr. O’Mara. Why don’t you put the computer down and get some rest?”
Jesus fucking Christ… “Look nurse, I’m in this hospital because a deranged psycho shot me. Officers from my department are out trying to arrest him tonight, but so far, I haven’t heard back from them saying he was in custody. I was on Skype with my nephew who, is on the psycho’s kill list, and he hasn’t come back to our Skype session from outside. So, hand me the phone, please, or I will crawl out of this God-damned bed myself to get it!” Ronan was screaming now.
The nurse shot Ronan the hairy eyeball, but did as he asked.
With shaking hands, Ronan dialed Truman’s home number. Thank Christ they still had a landline.
“Hello?” Truman asked, sounded unsure if he should have answered the phone.
“Truman, it’s Ronan. I was on Skype with Greeley. He took the dog outside and he hasn’t come back yet. It’s been almost ten minutes. I need you to go check on him. Bring a weapon to protect yourself.”
“I’ll grab my baseball bat. I thought he wasn’t supposed to leave the house?” Truman sounded scared.
“He wasn’t, but I made the mistake of telling him that Fitzgibbon and Ten were in Arlington to arrest Mark. I should have kept my damn mouth shut. Call me back on your cell so that I can call 9-1-1 if Greeley’s in trouble. I’m in room 612.”
“I’ll call right back.” The line disconnected.
Ronan set the phone back down in the cradle. He was more scared now than he’d ever been in his entire life. He looked up at the nurse who was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. “What? You though the Boston Police guard outside my door was for show?”
“I…” She shook her head. “I read about you in the paper, but…” She seemed to have run out of words.
“Listen to me very carefully, my nephew is the son of my captain. If anything happened to him, the ambulance is going to be bringing him here. Make sure the ER is ready to save his life. Greeley survived two brushes with a serial killer and ninety days in rehab. He’s about to graduate with his GED and start college in the fall. He plans to work with street kids like himself. He’s the best kid I’ve ever known in my life. Save his.”
“How do you know there’s something wrong with him? He could just be outside playing with the dog.” The nurse’s voice shook with fear.
Ronan’s phone rang. He pointed to his stomach. “Twelve years of gut instinct.”
37
Tennyson
Tennyson hated that Ronan couldn’t have his phone in the hospital. Being out of touch was what made him vulnerable on the day he was shot. Ten couldn’t help feeling like Ronan was vulnerable now, even though there was an armed member of the Boston Police Department standing guard at his hospital room door.
This ride into Arlington was quieter and filled with more anxiety than the last time they’d made this trip together. Last time Tennyson and Fitzgibbon both knew that Mark was the one who’d shot Ronan, but now they had the evidence to prove it. Ronan’s eyewitness account of his attack was enough for Kevin to have an arrest warrant sworn out for Mark Abruzzi.
“How is this gonna work”
“What, the arrest?” Fitzgibbon asked.
“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been with Ronan when he’s arrested people before, but…”
“But it’s never been a kid, right?”
“Right. And it’s never been a friend.” Tennyson thought that part was the most upsetting. The Abruzzis were Ronan’s friends.
“I’m hoping that since it’s me making the arrest that it won’t be as hard on them,” Fitzgibbon said.
“What do you mean?”
Fitzgibbon turned to Tennyson. “I don’t have any personal connection to Tony or Carlie. I’m just doing my job by making this arrest.”
“Yeah, but you’re Ro
nan’s boss. His friend.”
Fitzgibbon nodded as he pulled the SUV into the Abruzzis driveway and flipped on the blue and white lights.
“Oh, shit, shit, shit.” Ten shook his head.
“What is it?” Fitzgibbon asked. There was an edge to his voice.
“He isn’t here.”
“What do you mean he isn’t here! Who? Mark?” Fitzgibbon half-growled.
“Yeah.” Tennyson wiped his sweaty palms on the knees of his jeans. “Do you think someone gave Tony the heads up that we were coming?” Tennyson asked.
“That’s what I’m gonna ask him. You’re gonna read him to make sure he’s telling the truth.”
Tennyson opened his mouth to respond, but Fitzgibbon’s upheld hand stopped him cold.
“Listen, Ten, I know you’re going to remind me about your rule against reading people without their consent. Usually I’m one hundred percent on board with your ethics, but we’re dealing number one, with trying to find the suspect who shot Ronan and number two, with a possible leak in the department if someone warned Tony that we were on our way to arrest Mark. Do you understand where I’m coming from here?”
“I do.” Tennyson’s rule about reading people had more to do with his own personal ethics with his clients than with anything else. Tony and Mark Abruzzi certainly were not his clients. All he cared about now, was finding and arresting Mark before he could hurt anyone else. “I’m with you, Cap. The quicker we find this little fucker, the safe we all are.”
Fitzgibbon snorted. “Let’s do this. Stay behind me if you see Tony go for his gun. Okay?”
“He’s the only one in the house. I don’t know where Carlie and the other kids are, but he’s home alone. I also don’t read any spirits, so Jacobson isn’t there to influence him either.”
“What about weapons? Can you tell if he’s carrying?”
