Dead To Me (Cold Case Psychic Book 5)

by Pandora Pine

  “I want to go home too, Ronan, but tell me about your chat with the sheriff.” Tennyson waggled his eyebrows at his fiancé.

  Ronan sat forward in his seat, ready to go to work. “Do you know him?”

  Ten shook his head no. “He isn’t a Union Chapel boy. I didn’t read him at the funeral. I wanted to hear your impressions of him before I did my voodoo.”

  That made Ronan crack a smile. “He wants us to consult on a ten-year-old cold case. Barlow likes the idea of us looking at it because we know nothing about it and you don’t know the family involved. They moved to town after you left.”

  “What’s it all about?” Ten’s voice sounded tired.

  “It’s a mystery. The sheriff didn’t want us to be able to look it up online and develop any theories on our own. I also suspect he didn’t want you speaking with folks on the other side.” Ronan didn’t like how tired Ten looked or sounded. He also suspected he looked and sounded the same way to Tennyson. Even though he’d been medically cleared to go back to work, he still wasn’t one hundred percent back to the way he felt before he’d been shot. Not that he planned on telling anyone that.

  “Did you commit us to helping him out?”

  “No, babe. I told him I needed to speak with you about it. I also asked him if he knew that you weren’t a cop.”

  Ten rolled his eyes. “What did he say to that? Did he break out the holy water?”

  “He said he’d heard about your gift through the grapevine, but didn’t seem to have his own opinion about it one way or the other. I assume he did his research on us. He probably read the Boston papers. He’s also willing to utilize Fitzgibbon since he’s here. The overall impression that I got about him is that he’s desperate to solve this case.”

  “And we’re his port in the storm.”

  “It seems that way,” Ronan agreed.

  “Knock, knock!” Kevin’s voice came over the gate door.

  Ronan found his first real smile since he’d watched the videos of Lola and Dixie. “Come on in, guys.”

  Fitzgibbon opened the gate and strolled inside. Greeley was right behind him. “We brought dinner. It feels like it’s been ages since lunch.” Kevin set a giant bag down on the table, while Greeley set a smaller bag down beside it.

  “We grabbed fried chicken from some place out on Route 20. There was a huge line, so we figured that must mean it was good. It came with mashed potatoes and cornbread. Dad grabbed drinks for everyone too.” Greeley started unpacking the bags while Fitzgibbon passed out paper plates and plastic cutlery.

  “What did the sheriff want, Ronan?” Fitzgibbon grabbed some chicken and passed the bucket to Tennyson.

  “He’s got a case he wants me and Ten to look at. You’re welcome in on it too, Cap.” Ronan slapped a pile of potatoes on his plate and handed the container to Greeley.

  “Me too! I want in on the case too, Dad.” Greeley had a pleading look in his green eyes.

  Fitzgibbon raised an eye at his seventeen-year-old son.

  Greeley gave the eye right back to his father. “I’m perceptive and smart. I can be a gopher for Uncle Tennyson. I can read the case notes from the other detectives. Aren’t you and Uncle Ronan always talking about wanting fresh eyes to look at evidence? Whose eyes would be fresher than a rookie consultant?”

  Ronan snorted. “Rookie consultant?”

  “Isn’t that what Sherlock Holmes was?” Tennyson asked.

  “Consulting detective, actually.” Greeley said with a wicked grin. “See, you’d be getting the best of both worlds. Plus, hanging out with the three of you would keep me out of trouble.”

  “Oh, would it now?” Fitzgibbon deadpanned.

  “Mmm,” Greeley hummed through a mouthful of chicken. “Aaron, the wicked cute front desk guy, was giving me the eye when we checked in. He’s got a nice ass. Maybe I should stay here and hang out at the pool in my bathing suit. You know, work on my tan?”

  Ronan started to laugh. “Welcome to the team, kid. Do what we tell you and try to stay away from the crime scene pics, okay?”

  Greeley howled with glee and gave Tennyson a high-five.

  “What’s so damn funny?” Fitzgibbon practically growled.

  “Kid’s good. He knew just how to play you.”

  “Yeah, well, who’s to say I didn’t want him with us anyway?” Kevin pouted.

  Ronan shot his boss an, are-you-kidding-me look. “Yeah, Kevin, every father I know wants their teenage sons investigating cold case murders in their free time.”

  Kevin frowned. “You think that’s what we’re looking at here?”

  “Has to be. I can’t imagine Sheriff Reed wanting us to look into some petty theft or a domestic violence case, can you?”

  Fitzgibbon shook his head. “How’d things go when you took your mother home, Ten?”

  “I’d rather talk about this potential murder case. How’s that for an answer?” Tennyson bit into a chicken leg with more force than was necessary.

  “Your mother is masking,” Greeley said.

  “Masking?” Ten asked. “What’s that.”

  “She’s hiding one emotion with another. We learned all about it in rehab. She’s using her anger and all the old feelings she’s got about you being gay and psychic to mask what she’d really feeling about your dad. If she’s angry at you and Uncle Ronan, she’s too upset to mourn your father.” Greeley sounded far older than his years.

  It sounded right to Ronan. “So, if she’s doing that, I assume that means she’s not really dealing with either situation, right?”

  Greeley nodded. “It’s one of the things that keeps people in the cycle of addiction. Like if I didn’t get over what Rod Jacobson did to me that first time he attacked me, it would have been a reason for me to go back to drugs. I knew I never wanted to go back down that road again, so, I dealt with my shit, got out all of my feelings and now that I’ve dealt with them in therapy I’m okay. I don’t like what he did or even how I responded, but I know how to cope with all of those things so that time in my life will never be a crutch for bad behavior again.”

  “Greeley, why do you think Ten’s mother is still holding on to her feelings about Ten being gay and psychic after all these years?” Ronan was curious to hear the boy’s thoughts. He thought Tennyson could also benefit from the point of view of a child who was the same age Ten was when he left Union Chapel.

  Greeley wore a contemplative look on his face. His right index finger tapped slowly on the table. “Rules are hard things to break, Uncle Ronan. We were all taught right and wrong from a young age. Part of Mrs. Grimm’s teachings was that being gay was wrong and having psychic powers were a sign of the devil. She believes in those things the same way you believe that killing people is wrong.”

  Ronan nodded along. The kid had a point.

  “Imagine if the president came out with an Executive Order making murder legal in the United States. Now something that you were always taught was wrong, is suddenly right. That’s sort of the battle going on with Uncle Ten’s mom. It’s always been wrong to be gay in her mind, but now, some of her friends and neighbors are saying it’s okay. Some religious organizations are saying it’s okay. Heck, even the United States Supreme Court said that marriage equality is a protected right.”

  “Shouldn’t family and a parent’s love trump what was taught in a book?” Ten asked gently.

  Greeley nodded. “I think it should, Uncle Ten. In our family it does. Your mother is standing at a crossroads here. Either she gets over her own misguided education and embraces us as her family or she’s Kaye Grimm, party of one. We all know that she would be welcomed into this family with open arms. She’d be a Nana to Carson and Truman’s babies, not to mention to her own bio grandkids someday soon.” Greeley shook his head. His eyes were misty. “I’ve never had a grandparent. I know Bertha loves me like one of her own, but I want hugs and fuzzy mints from the bottom of her purse. I want her to lick her finger to wipe something off my dirty face.”

  T
ennyson licked his finger and moved it toward Greeley.

  “Not you, Uncle Ten!” Greeley giggled.

  Fitzgibbon reached out and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Good answer, son. My parents would have loved the hell out of you.”

  “I want to meet them someday. When we’re back home and get our own house. I want Uncle Ten to introduce us.”

  Kevin cleared his throat and reached for the nearly empty bucket of chicken. “Why don’t you FaceTime Carson and Truman? I want to see what’s going on with our Lola-girl.”

  Ronan reached a hand out to Tennyson’s knee and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “I’m just glad we’re O’Mara-Grimm, party of two.”

  Tennyson laughed. “Three if you count Dixie. I’m not sure we should be thinking about real babies if you’re forgetting our precious fur baby.”

  “Are we thinking about real babies, Ten?” Ronan held his breath waiting to hear Tennyson’s answer.

  “I am. Aren’t you?” Ten’s dark eyes sparkled.

  “Constantly, babe.” Ronan whispered.

  “What?” Carson screeched. “What did he say, Fitz? Turn up the volume on your phone, damn it!”

  Ronan burst out laughing. “I said, ‘constantly,’ you nosy bastard.”

  “Well, then you two need to get busy!” Truman half-shouted.

  “I’m not having babies out of wedlock!” Ten declared. “Ronan needs to put a ring on it first.”

  “Speaking of putting a ring on it,” Truman said. “I’ve got some wedding venues to go over with you guys.” He held up a red notebook.

  “Can’t we just get married at City Hall?” Ten’s smile turned upside down.

  “What? No!” Ronan was horrified by the idea that Ten would want to stand in front of some Justice of the Peace in a run-down city office. “Email me what you’ve got, Tru. Ten and I are going to take this part of the conversation offline. Now, where is my pixie-girl? Daddy needs some loving.”

  Ronan plastered a smile on his face as Truman turned the camera around to show Dixie and Lola sitting together in front of the babies’ high chairs. Brian, Stephanie, and Bertha were eating Cheerios on their trays and the dogs were on the alert for when one of the treats would get thrown over the side.

  He could only guess why Tennyson was shelving their plans for the wedding of his dreams. Ronan wouldn’t be surprised at all if Mommy Dearest was the reason for his sudden change of mind. He was going to get to the bottom of this if it took rug burned knees to get there.

  17

  Tennyson

  Ten was so tired and worn out from the day, he didn’t bother booking a massage or hopping in the jacuzzi. He took a regular shower and threw on his rattiest pair of sleep pants. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get close to Ronan, it was that he was just too tired and too sad to get down.

  He could hear Ronan moving around in the living room, shutting off the television and checking on the hotel room door to make sure it was locked. A second later, he heard his lover’s light steps walk up to their bed and then the mattress dip when Ronan got into bed. He cuddled up behind Ten and sighed. “God, I hate these damn pants. They’re like a giant neon sign blinking ‘Not tonight!’”

  “I don’t feel very pretty, Ronan. These trying days are really starting to take a toll on me. I don’t want to get out of bed and I just got into it.” Ten felt like he could sleep for a week. He knew he was on a downward spiral. This wasn’t good for him. He knew if this mood kept up, he’d pull Ronan down with him.

  “I don’t feel very pretty either.” Ronan pulled Tennyson tighter against him. “We all have days when we feel ugly. The trick is keeping the ugly from spilling out toward other people.”

  “My mother hasn’t learned that skill, obviously. I hate who I am when I’m around her. That’s not who I am.” Ten barely recognized the man he’d turned into over the last few days. He knew that was partly what was fueling this burgeoning depression.

  “I get it. I know you have resentment toward her. All these years she had to work out her own issues and all Kaye’s done is let those feelings fester.”

  “The only person my feelings of resentment are hurting now is me. I need to find a way to let them all go.” Ten snuggled back against Ronan’s body, loving the way his body heat seemed to envelop him.

  “I agree, babe. She’s a bitter old woman who’s lost her husband. You don’t want to end up like that someday because you can’t let these feelings go now. If she came to you for a reading as a total stranger, would you cut her some slack with her attitude? Or, would you treat her the same way you’re treating your mother? Think about that.”

  Ten sighed. Ronan was making sense. “You think Greeley had a point tonight about Kaye feeling the way she does because it’s how she was raised?”

  “I do,” Ronan agreed, “but that argument can only carry her so far.”

  “What do you mean?” Ten settled back further against the heat of Ronan’s chest.

  “You get to a point in your life where you get to question how you were raised. It’s how the world changes. Think of all the racism that was stamped out because the next generation said no. It’s the same with homophobia. All it takes are open-minded people refusing to think how their parents think. Who’s better at questioning everything than teenagers?”

  “I guess that kind of thing doesn’t work so well with fifty-somethings, does it?” There was no way Kaye was going to change her way of thinking. She was too set in her ways.

  “If she doesn’t then she gets left behind to rust here all alone. I’m sorry, Ten, but after this trip is over, I’m done with her. Unless of course she comes to us with an apology on her own. At this point, the only thing I can see changing her mind about us is a grandchild, but I’m sure as fuck not letting her near our baby if she hates the two of us.”

  Tennyson started to laugh. “Fuck off and die, but give me my grandbaby.”

  Ronan laughed along with him. “Yeah, we’re not living like that, with my stomach in knots every time Nana Kaye is coming to town.”

  “Do you think she hates me, Ronan?” Ten asked in a small voice. He hated giving his worst fear a voice, but after all these years, he had to ask the question. He knew he could trust Ronan to give him an honest answer.

  “I actually think you making something of your life and not having to come crawling back to them on your knees is killing her.”

  Tennyson thought for a minute about what Ronan said. “What you said has merit, but you didn’t answer my question.” He held his breath waiting for Ronan’s answer.

  Ronan sighed. He pressed a kiss to the back of Tennyson’s neck. “I see the way Cole and Cassie are with Laurel and the way Truman and Carson are with their babies. Then there’s the Cap and Greeley and that boy isn’t even his biological son. There’s so much love and parental instinct there to protect at all costs, Ten. I don’t see those things with Kaye, but I don’t think there’s hate in her heart for you either.”

  “If there isn’t love doesn’t there have to be hate?” Yin and yang, Ten couldn’t help thinking.

  “No, sweetheart. Remember when we were working the Justin Wilson case and his parents thought being gay was just a phase he was going through?”

  Ten nodded. He remembered how his gut had burned with anger at the dead teenager’s parents. That attitude had cost their son his life.

  “They blamed themselves for Justin being gay. Maybe Kaye feels the same way?”

  “Maybe. I’m just tired of fighting this battle, Ronan.”

  “Let’s throw in the towel for the night, hmm?” Ronan pressed another kiss to the back of Tennyson’s neck. “Turn around, babe. I need me some cuddles.”

  Ten snorted. “When did you turn into such a cuddle monster?”

  “I might be tough on the outside, but inside I’m a big snuggly marshmallow of love.”

  “Can I quote you on that?”

  “Not if you want to live to walk down the aisle, Nostradamus.” Ronan giggle
d. “Speaking of walking down the aisle…”

  Tennyson didn’t have to be psychic to know Ronan was going to ask about his sudden change of heart about the wedding. “This place is bumming me out, Ronan. I guess I let that carry forward to our wedding.”

  “What would you think if I took over the planning?”

  “You would do that?”

  “I would. Just tell me one thing, indoor or outdoor?”

  Ten rested his head on Ronan’s shoulder, where he felt the most comfortable. He shut his eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart. It wasn’t too long ago when it wasn’t at all a given that Ten would ever hear this sound again.

  Once he heard the steady rhythm, he turned his mind to Ronan’s question. New England. November 1st. He knew the weather could be sunny and seventy degrees or it could snow. Either way, Ronan would be standing at his side and pledging to spend the rest of his life honoring and cherishing him. “Indoor.”

  “You got it, babe. Now let’s get some sleep. Promise me you’ll dream about chubby, curly-haired babies.”

  Ten shook his head, pressing a kiss against Ronan’s heart. “No way. I’m gonna dream about chubby, redheaded, blue-eyed babies with Irish names.” That wasn’t so much a promise as it was a premonition, but Ronan didn’t need to know about that just yet.

  18

  Ronan

  Thankfully, when Ronan woke up the next morning, the skies had cleared and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. He hoped the rosy sunrise would also buoy Tennyson’s spirits.

  He remembered what the sheriff had said about McDonald’s being the only breakfast option at this early hour and he’d be damned if he put Tennyson through another walk down Union Chapel memory lane. Ronan couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Tennyson working shift after shift, slinging burgers, picking up extra hours and extra shifts, just so he’d have enough cash to get to Massachusetts and start his new life.