Dead Ringer

by Pandora Pine

  “Do you have any experience working in a bakery?” Cassie asked.

  Greeley’s happy attitude deflated. “No, sorry.”

  “You’re hired!” Cassie and Truman shouted together.

  “I am?” Greeley looked shocked.

  “My mom always says if you can read, you can cook. Tomorrow morning 5am. I’ll put you to work.” Cassie slapped a hand on the teenager’s shoulder.

  “Dad, can you drop me off?” The smile on Greeley’s face was so big, it practically split his face in half.

  Kevin nodded. “That’s about the time I need to leave for work anyway.”

  “Awesome! Thanks guys.”

  Ronan loved the look on Greeley’s face. He’d been talking about getting a part-time job and working at the bakery would be perfect. The holiday season was their busiest time.

  “So, we settled Thanksgiving and got Greeley a job. Anything else you all need my help with?” Ronan looked around the room.

  Standing next to him, Tennyson raised his hand.

  22

  Tennyson

  Ten hated the idea of breaking the jovial party up with his problem. “I’ve got something I wanted to talk about. I’m not sure if you can help me though.”

  “We’re here for you, Tenny!” Bertha Craig said from behind him.

  “Thanks, Bertha.” Tennyson was so happy to see her.

  “Mimi!” Laurel screeched, reaching her chubby arms out to her grandmother.

  “Hello, little princess.” Bertha pressed a kiss to her oldest granddaughter’s head and then did the same to Ronan.

  “She’s loving on me, isn't she?” Ronan asked.

  “Yup.” Ten managed to laugh.

  “It wouldn’t be a day ending in “Y” if I wasn’t loving on you, Handsome.” Bertha cackled.

  “Oh, jeez, Mom. No wonder his ego is the size of Texas.” Carson sighed.

  “She’s talking about my butt, right!” Ronan laughed. “Now that I’m running again, I’m getting some of my tone back.” He looked over his shoulder.

  Cole groaned and slapped a hand over his face. Laurel mimicked him perfectly.

  “Tell us what’s going on, Ten,” Truman said.

  “It’s this Jude Byrne. He’s the private investigator Thomas Hutchins has working on his murder appeal.”

  Truman nodded and started tapping on the touchpad of his phone.

  “There’s something about him I can’t put my finger on but being near him puts my gift on edge. The strangest thing about him is that I can’t read him.”

  Carson frowned. “Maybe he’s just one of those people whose good at blocking talent like us.”

  “I thought so too when I met him at the prison the first time. Granted I was sick from all of the negative psychic energy of that place. I figured it was a combination of the bad energy and of me not feeling my best. Then when Ronan and I met with him again today, I was convinced it was more than that.”

  “His real name is Judas Byrne,” Truman announced. Holding his phone up for everyone to see. “Says here that he’s originally from a place called Kingdom City, New Mexico.”

  Ronan shivered. His eyes popped wide open. Laurel jiggled in his arms for a second before he settled her back against his hip again.

  “Jesus, are you okay?” Ten wrapped an arm around his husband.

  Ronan nodded. “It’s the name. You don’t hear it every day.”

  “It’s a brave name, don’t you think?” Kevin asked. “Or named by a mother who has no obvious tie to Christianity.”

  “Or has a darker tie,” Cole said. “Judas was a traitor. Maybe his mother saw her infant son as one too and that in combination with the name of the town? Kingdom City?”

  Ten shook his head. “As interesting as the possible origin of his name is, that has no bearing on my inability to read him. Religion never has had any kind of effect on my gift.”

  “Explain this to me, Tennyson,” Bertha said. “What exactly are you feeling when you try to read him?”

  “The only way I can explain it is that he’s one big, blank page. When the babies were newborns, they were so peaceful to hold because they had pure auras and no spirits glommed on to them. They had no real thoughts to read, but I could still hear other spirits and feel other psychic vibrations around me. They were the closest thing I could get to quiet time until Madam Aurora taught me how to shut down my gift on command. Jude is different though. He’s like a dead zone.”

  Carson and Cole exchanged a silent look.

  “What?” Ten asked. He could feel his anxiety starting to ratchet up.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Carson said.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Cole echoed.

  “JFC, guys spill it. You’re scaring the bleep out of me.” Ronan cuddled Laurel tighter.

  “KFC!” Laurel announced. She turned a big smile at Ronan.

  Ronan laughed and pressed a raspberry to her neck, making the baby squeal with laughter.

  “Shifters.” Carson looked over at Bertha.

  “What?” Ronan’s mouth dropped open “You’ve got to be shitting me. Those are just dirty books that I read when I’m bored, about werewolves and werebears and dragons getting it on.”

  “All fiction is rooted in truth somewhere,” Carson said quietly. “And I’m not necessarily talking about wolf shifters.”

  “What do you mean you’re not necessarily talking about wolf shifters. What else is there?” Ronan wore a look of alarm tinged with interest.

  Carson exchanged a silent look with Cole. “Not shifters in the traditional sense where people are bursting out in fur or scales.”

  Ronan opened his mouth, but Tennyson held up a hand to stop him.

  “Okay, so let’s say shifters are real,” Ten took a deep breath. This was a pretty big leap for him here. “What does that have to do with me not being able to read Jude Byrne?”

  “If the myths are real, people like that can’t be read by people with our gifts,” Carson said quietly. “Truman just said Jude was from New Mexico, that could explain what’s going on here. Native American tribes from that part of the country have mythology about spirit animals.”

  “You mean like totems? An animal spirit guide?” Tennyson asked. That made a lot more sense to him than people magically transforming into a panther or a T-Rex.

  Cole shrugged. “Like Carson said, a lot of myth is rooted in truth.”

  “Bertha, you’re awfully quiet.” Tennyson looked up at his mentor.

  “I don’t have much to say here. Native American spirit dinosaurs aren’t exactly in my wheelhouse. I liked it better when we were talking about starting family traditions and my little munchkin was calling my name. If you want my advice on this Byrne character, try getting to know him instead of trying to antagonize him. It could just be he’s one of those people who doesn’t like psychics and has an extra high wall up against you, Tennyson.”

  “What’s my secret love saying, Ten?” Ronan asked.

  Ten snorted. “She thinks we should get to know Jude in case he’s mistrustful of psychics and has a high wall up.”

  “Oh damn, Bertha! Just when I thought we were building something, you had to go and ruin it by saying something like that. Jude Byrne is the most egotistical, high and mighty butt munch I’ve ever met in my life.”

  “The two of you obviously have a lot in common then. Toodles!” Bertha was gone.

  Tennyson burst out laughing. He couldn’t argue with Bertha’s logic but wasn’t about to share it with his husband either.

  “Butt munch!” Laurel crowed, raising her little fist high in the air.

  23

  Ronan

  Ronan was lying in bed with his laptop and Dixie. She was resting her head on Ronan’s arm. Tennyson was finishing up in the shower. Ten had invited Ronan to join him, but in an uncharacteristic move, Ronan had declined.

  He’d spent the last twenty minutes going back and forth between candied yam recipes, thinking about why he wasn’t in
the mood to ravish his husband in the shower, and the possibility that shifters were a real thing. Who the fuck knew?

  He looked down at Dixie who was staring at him with her big dark eyes. “You’re not going to turn into a person, Dix, are you? Be some tiny naked woman with boobs and whatever else you got going on downstairs?” Ronan grimaced.

  “What is wrong with you?” Ten asked from the bathroom door. He was wearing blue and red flannel pants and a weird look on his face.

  “This shifter thing has me freaked out. I was just wondering if I was gonna wake up and Dixie would be gone and, in her place, would be a naked woman.”

  “That’s why you wouldn’t take a shower with me?” Tennyson sat down on the edge of the bed. Dixie scampered over Ronan and the laptop to get to him. “That’s my girl. Daddy Ronan’s lost his mind. Hasn’t he?”

  “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Ronan turned the computer around to show Ten all of the recipes he’d been reading.

  “Why are you looking at ten recipes for the same thing?” Ten rested his head on Ronan’s shoulder.

  “In addition to shifters, I was thinking about Thanksgiving too.”

  “You don’t think the turkey’s gonna turn into a naked man, do you?” Ten lifted his head up to look his husband in the eye.

  “No, don’t be ridiculous. In all of the books I’ve read, shape-shifters only seem to be predators.”

  “I beg your pardon, but to a wild berry, a turkey is a predator.” Ten pressed a kiss to Ronan’s neck and settled back down to his shoulder.

  “Okay, Jack Hanna. I meant the shifters I read about are carnivores: wolves, panthers, bears, lions. I guess I don’t understand what Carson and Cole were talking about and that’s what’s got me rattled. So, instead of showering with my gorgeous man, I was looking up spirit animals and wondering if Dixie was one.”

  Ten laughed. “Native American mythology is fascinating. The idea of spirit animals has more to do with the lessons we can learn from that animal and people identifying with the animal than anything else. There are some myths that say the Native Americans were born from animals and therefore have animal blood in them.”

  “You’re saying that’s where the shifter stories come from?”

  Ten nodded against Ronan’s shoulder.

  “If that were really true, if Jude Byrne theoretically had mountain lion or Gila monster or road runner blood in him, why wouldn’t you be able to read him?”

  “I don’t know, Ronan. Why do I lose Elvis Radio on XM when I’m stopped at the light near Bank of America on Essex Street?”

  “There’s gotta be something in the bank that interferes with the signal.” Ronan paused and thought about that for a minute. “Jude Byrne is your kryptonite. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Maybe he isn’t, but something inside of him is.” Ten shifted and pulled Ronan’s computer closer. He clicked off the Native American mythology pages Ronan was looking at and clicked back over to the recipes. “Why are candied yams so important?”

  “All of that talk at Carson’s about starting family traditions got me thinking about our little miss. She will be born into established family traditions by the time she gets here and I want them to be good ones.”

  “And that starts with yams?” Ten turned to look at his husband.

  Ronan nodded. He blinked up at the ceiling hoping Tennyson wouldn’t see the emotion in his eyes. “When I was growing up it was just me and my mom and her parents for Thanksgiving. It was the same generic meal every year, turkey, stuffing, squash, mashed potatoes, gravy and cranberry sauce. It was the yams that made it special. The recipe had been handed down from Grammy’s family back in Ireland. It was never written down and when my mom died, the recipe died with her. That’s why I’ve been looking at every recipe on the internet. I’m trying to find the one that is the closest match.”

  “Babe, all I have to do is ask Erin about the recipe the next time she stops in to see me. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to pass it down to us, especially when she hears why you want it.”

  Ronan wiped his eyes. “It was such an amazing thing getting to talk to her the morning of our wedding, Ten. We only had a few minutes together, but aside from saying, ‘I do,’ it was the best part of the day. I miss her so damn much.”

  Ten slipped an arm around Ronan’s chest. “I know you do, sweetheart. I know how much she wishes she were here with us too. Which of course brings me to a rather uncomfortable question.”

  Ronan snorted and started to laugh. He knew exactly what question Tennyson was going to ask him. “It’s about Kaye. Isn’t it?”

  Ten nodded. “I know she’s settling in back in Kansas to her new life without my father. She’s working twenty hours a week at the shelter and trying to figure out which animal she wants to adopt. She’s driving to church and having dinner at the Main Street Café again. I just wonder if she’d want to come out here for Thanksgiving.”

  Ronan sighed. Having Kaye out here for the few days after their wedding had been an exercise in patience. Thankfully, Truman and Carson had been kind enough to take her on and play host. Greeley had played tour guide, when he wasn’t busy helping Fitzgibbon move into their new house. He knew what the right answer was in his heart, even if his brain was not on board with that plan. “If you want to invite her out here, I’m willing to pay the price.”

  “What?” Ten shot him an angry look.

  Realizing what he’d said had a double or even a triple meaning, Ronan sat up and pushed the computer onto the comforter. “No, I mean I’ll pay for her ticket. She’s more than welcome to stay in the guest room. Although I’m sure she’d be happier with Greeley and Fitzgibbon.”

  “What if she doesn’t want to come, Ronan?”

  It was entirely possible Kaye wouldn’t want to come to Boston twice in a month for a number of reasons, one of which was that she was still struggling with the fact that her son was gay and now married to a man. “If she doesn’t come then we make new traditions and amazing memories with the family that is here celebrating with us.”

  Ten nodded and rested his head on his husband’s shoulder.

  24

  Tennyson

  Ronan was scowling over his phone when Tennyson walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Well good morning to you too, grumpy cat.”

  “It’s not you. It’s Ironman.” Ronan’s demeanor didn’t brighten when he glanced up at his husband.

  “What’s he want now? A date at the roller skating rink?” Tennyson laughed.

  “No,” Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “He wants us to find some way into Lorraine McAlpin’s house.”

  Ten’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding me.” How on earth were they going to find a way into Lorraine’s house? “So, does he want us to just come right out and tell her family we’re working for the defense team of her convicted killer? Or does he want us to break in like cat burglars?”

  “Oh, it gets better from there. He also wants us to speak to her family. ‘Dig up some dirt,’ was how he put it.”

  “He’s out of his Gila monster mind.” Ten threw his hands up in the air. “I’m making tea. Do you want a cup?”

  “Hell, no! If I need to convince a murdered woman’s mother to let us poke around in her life, I’m gonna need something with higher octane than green tea.” Ronan strode across the kitchen and pulled his husband into his arms. “Good morning.”

  Ten kissed him hard. “Good morning to you too, caveman.” Ten studied his husband for a minute. “If you were a shifter, what kind would you want to be?”

  Ronan rolled his eyes. “You don’t get to pick. You’re born a wolf or a panther. If I could pick, I’d want to be a dragon.”

  “Of course, you would. Magnificent and silver scaled, sitting on your pile of treasure, able to breathe fire and incinerate your enemies.” Ten knew that would be Ronan’s best-case scenario.

  “Hmm, maybe that’s what Jude is, a dragon. Byrne. He’s got those golden eyes that turn kind of fiery wh
en he’s pissed off. I bet that’s it. I bet his spirit animal is a dragon. Or he’s an actual dragon and that’s why you can’t read him.”

  Ten was starting to wish he hadn’t asked Ronan what kind of shifter he would be if he could choose. “Dragons aren’t real, Ronan.” If they were, he was going to need something stronger than green tea to talk about it.

  “Hey, Carson was the one who said all myth is based in fact. What if he’s not a dragon like Smaug or like modern mythology portrays, but it’s something else? More like the Chinese myths portray, smaller and more snake-like?”

  “I suppose it’s possible. What’s more important is Lorraine McAlpin. We can deal with Fiery Dick later.”

  Ronan burst out laughing. “Okay, fine, but we’re not done talking about him being a dragon. Promise me.”

  Ten couldn’t help feeling like his husband was a giant toddler half the time. What was next? Pinkie swearing? “I promise we’ll talk about this shifter business again after I get a chance to spend more time with Jude, okay?”

  Ronan held up his left pinkie finger.

  “Seriously, Ronan?” Ten sighed dramatically but wrapped his little finger around Ronan’s.

  “You know you love me.”

  Ten knew it too. “How are we going to get Lorraine McAlpin’s mother to talk to us?” Ten skipped right over inflating Ronan’s ego. It was big enough as it was.

  “That’s the easiest part of all of this. You’re going to offer to do a reading.”

  Ronan was right. The reading was the easiest part. What was harder was getting their foot in the door. “How do you propose we approach her? Ring the doorbell and offer her a reading like we’re some kind of door-to-door psychics, like the Jehovah’s Witnesses or Avon ladies?”

  “Okay, I guess I didn’t think about that. Mrs. McAlpin is going to want to know why a Cold Case Detective and a psychic are showing up on her doorstep when her daughter’s murderer has already been tried and convicted.”

  “Tank was convicted two years ago. His first parole hearing isn’t for another twenty-three years. Think about that, Ronan. These people have settled back into some semblance of normal life. If we go and knock on their door out of the blue, we’re going to blast that new normal to hell.” Ten knew the McAlpins probably thought about their daughter every day, but Tank Hutchins was probably the furthest thing from their minds.