by Pandora Pine
“You may have a point. Those people are also gonna blow a gasket when they find out we’re working for Tank.”
Ten frowned. “Explain something to me.”
“Anything.”
“You just said that the McAlpins are going to blow a gasket and I agree with you. They totally are. Don’t they want to see justice served here as much as we do or do they just want a warm body in prison serving time for Lorraine’s murder?”
Ronan was silent. He tapped his index finger on the kitchen counter. “You know what it’s like to go through a criminal investigation. We do all of the leg work, identify a suspect and find evidence to prove that this person committed the crime, right?”
Ten nodded, not wanting to interrupt Ronan’s train of thought.
“The murder victim’s family is along for that same ride in all of this. The detectives who investigated Lorraine’s murder identified Tank Hutchins as the suspect. They found enough evidence to have an arrest warrant sworn out, a grand jury voted to indict Tank and the case went to trial. The McAlpins spent the entire year leading up to the trial thinking that Hutchins was the killer. Then the trial starts, and they hear all the evidence against him. Lastly, the jury convicts him. Do you see where I’m going with this, Ten?”
“I do. You’re saying that the McAlpins have had the last three years to think of Tank as Lorraine’s murderer. It’s just that you see stories on Dateline where the cops and the family of the murder victim continue to think the innocent man was the killer long after other evidence is uncovered proving otherwise.”
“What I just explained to you is the reason why people get it stuck in their heads. It’s not just the emotional family, but the detectives who invest time and themselves in these cases that can fall victim to that trap too. Just because we know Tank is innocent doesn’t mean the McAlpins are going to be happy to hear it. If he’s innocent, then who killed Lorraine? Now there’s no one to pay for her senseless murder.”
“An eye for an eye,” Tennyson muttered.
Ronan shrugged. “It might not be right, but when you’ve been wronged, it’s one hell of a platitude to hang your grievances on.”
Ten couldn’t argue with that. “When does Jude want to meet?”
“Whenever we’re free.”
“Good, tell him to meet us up here. It’s high time the rest of the gang meets him, Carson, Cole, and Fitzgibbon especially. If he wants us to do something for him, he’s gonna have to work for it.”
Ronan raised an eyebrow. “That your version of an eye for an eye?”
“Yeah, maybe so. I think we’re going to need to use him to get our foot in the door with Lorraine’s family.”
Ronan grinned from ear to ear. “What do you mean?”
“What if we set Jude loose on them? He uses his usual brand of charm on them and then we sweep in like heroes to clean up his mess.”
“That’s pretty devious, Ten. Just because he’s an asshole to me, doesn’t mean he’s going to treat everyone like that. I can’t imagine him being a total dick to the grieving family of a murder victim.”
“I thought you hated this guy?” Ten was confused. If anyone could grease the wheels here, it had to be Jude. Didn’t it?
“You have to admit I’m a dick at times too. It’s part of my unique charm and half of the reason you fell in love with me.”
Ten grumbled a half-assed, “Maybe.” It was all he was willing to concede.
“Like attracts like, as my mother would say. It’s probably why Jude and I bounce off each other the way we do. We’re too much like each other. Only he’s a bit more gruff and closed down than I am. Why don’t we invite him up here, let him meet everyone, and then ask him what he thinks about getting in to see Lorraine’s family?”
Ten shook his head. “When the hell did you turn peacemaker?”
“Must be osmosis from sleeping next to you every night. What can I say? You make me a better man just by standing next to me.” Ronan pressed a gentle kiss to Tennyson’s temple. “Dixie, my little pixie? Who’s ready for walkies?” Ronan sang out.
An excited bark sounded from under the kitchen table as Dixie scrambled to her feet and raced toward Ronan.
Ten watched in stunned silence as Ronan hooked their excited puppy up to her harness and led her toward the front door.
25
Ronan
It turned out it wasn’t as much of a hassle for Jude Byrne to meet at their house as Tennyson hoped it would be for the private investigator. He lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts which was only a twenty-six-mile drive to Salem. Jude had seemed upbeat about making the trip especially when Ronan mentioned providing dinner.
He’d run out to the grocery store and grabbed the biggest, juiciest rib-eyes he could find. Dragons loved red meat according to every shifter novel he’d read, so he was going to tempt the dragon with what he loved. He’d also grabbed baking potatoes and fixings for a salad in case he’d completely gone off the deep end with this dragon bullshit.
Fitzgibbon and the Craig brothers were coming for dinner, so they’d be able to get their two cents in as well when it came to the mysterious private dick. Ronan snorted. Before long he was laughing out loud.
“What’s so funny?” Ten looked around the empty kitchen and then behind himself. Dixie was sitting at his heels staring up at him.
Ronan shook his head.
“This isn’t good if you’re alone in a room and laughing hysterically? Are you hearing voices? Seeing things that aren’t there? Have you lost your shit?”
Ronan shook his head again, this time making the universal gesture for jacking off.
“Well, fuck you and everyone who looks like you too, sweet cheeks!” Ten grinned at his husband suddenly turned hyena.
Ronan took a deep breath, desperate to share the joke with Ten. “Byrne,” he managed to gasp.
“I should have known that dick was involved in this somewhere.” Ten rolled his eyes.
Ronan, still laughing too hard to talk, tapped his nose and pointed to Tennyson.
“Dick? This has to do with the dick?” Ten narrowed his eyes.
Ronan nodded.
“Private dick?” Ten guessed.
“Yessss!” Ronan managed.
“What the hell is so funny about a private dick?”
“Aren’t all dicks private?” Ronan finally said.
“Unless you’re a porn star.” Ten cocked his head to the side, as if he were thinking hard about public dicks. “Or a flasher.”
Ronan started laughing again. He was about to suggest guys who piss in public, but the doorbell rang.
“Christ, he’s not one of those early dicks, is he?” That’s all they needed was for Jude to be this early. Carson wasn’t even here yet with the food.
“No, it’s Carson and Truman. I’ll get it. You stay here and keep obsessing over dicks.”
“That’s what I do all the time anyway!” Ronan called back. It was true. Most of the time, anyway.
“Da Da Da Da!” Came little shouts from the living room.
“Oh, good, Jude is here!” Ronan crowed as he walked into the living room.
“Ronan, it’s the babies. They’ve learned how to say my name,” Truman rolled his eyes.
“Ah, in case you’ve forgotten, husband, Daddy is my name too.” Carson was laying down a blanket and setting out toys for the now ten-month old triplets.
“They’re obviously talking to me, wife!” Truman shot back, grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh good, so this is going to be a multi-dick party then.” Ronan scooped baby Bertha up and snuggled her close. “You know, if you just learned how to say, ‘Ro,’ you’d save everyone a lot of hassle.”
“Eeee!” Bertha screeched instead.
“Mimi’s here, isn’t she, princess? Just what we need. The perfect person to judge the biggest dick contest.” Ronan rolled his eyes heavenward.
“Still heavyweight champion,” Carson said with a grimace. “Mom, I sure the hell hope Ron
an’s a metaphorical heavyweight champion.”
Tennyson burst out laughing.
“What did she say, Ten?” Ronan asked. He could feel a blush creeping up his neck.
“I’ll tell you later.” Ten’s face was flaming like a lobster that had just come out of a pot.
“Where do you want the cold cut platter?” Truman asked, once the babies were settled on the floor.
“In the kitchen.” Ronan led the way after he set the baby down with her siblings. He’d picked up rolls, condiments, and chips earlier in the day. They’d figured it would be easier to have a do-it-yourself sandwich bar, rather than calling out from Greek Life.
“What’s news?” Truman asked, after he set the platter down.
“It’s so weird being on this side of a case.” Ronan shook his head. He still couldn’t believe they were helping a convicted killer, rather than the grieving family of the victim.
“Tennyson said he’s innocent though, right?” Truman wore a look that said that was all that was important to him.
“Yeah, but Lorraine McAlpin is still dead.” At the end of the day, Ronan knew that was the only fact that would matter to the McAlpin family.
“I get that, but you’re still on the side of justice.”
That was true enough. He and Tennyson were now turning their efforts toward trying to exonerate an innocent man. “The piece of the puzzle that we’re missing is usually the first one we place.”
“Talking to the victim?”
“Right. Ten and I can’t seem to come up with a way to convince Lorraine McAlpin’s family to let us read her spirit, so we haven’t reached out to them yet.”
“If I can help you with that, will you change my name to Genius Dick in your phone?” Jude Byrne asked from the kitchen door.
Ronan burst out laughing.
26
Tennyson
Tennyson couldn’t decide if letting Jude in to the kitchen without telling Ronan he was here was a good idea or one that would get him spanked later. Either way, he was going to come out a winner.
When he heard Ronan laughing his ass off, he knew he’d made the right decision. Jude had gotten to the house at the same time as Fitzgibbon and Greeley. They hadn’t rung the doorbell, they’d just walked in. Ronan would have had no idea Kevin and Greeley, let alone the dick of the hour, were here.
“What the hell is their issue anyway?” Carson asked, pointing toward the kitchen. “Doesn’t Ronan know they’re destined to be BFFs?”
“Jesus Christ, Carson! Whatever you do, don’t tell Ronan that.” Fitzgibbon laughed.
“I disagree.” Greeley wore a wicked grin. “Tell him, but make sure you’re recording it. We could win a lot of money on Funny Videos! Of course ABC would have to beep out most of the words in order to show it on the air...”
“Let’s go see what’s so funny.” Tennyson picked up Brian from the floor and headed toward the kitchen. He knew the babies’ reaction to their guest would go a long way to telling the tale of Jude Byrne.
“Marry me, Bertha?” Greeley tickled the baby and scooped her up from the floor.
“That boy is a natural. Just like you, Tennyson.” Bertha Craig said from behind him.
“Christ, Bertha. Don’t tell Fitzgibbon that. Let’s hope there are a lot of years before we see Greeley with one of his own.”
“I thought the boy was a bone tooter? It’s not like he’s gonna go out and make one of those the old-fashioned way.” Bertha patted Tennyson’s shoulder. “Sometimes I worry about you, Tenny.”
Carson was standing in the kitchen doorway with a shocked look on his face. “All I heard was bone tooter and not going to make one of those the old-fashioned way. Do I want to even know what my mother was talking about?”
“Greeley.” Ten laughed.
“Of course. Who else would she have been talking about but a seventeen-year-old, gay boy. Jesus Christ.” Carson carded a hand through his blond hair.
“What do you think of Jude?” Tennyson half-whispered.
“He’s hella gorgeous. He knows it too. Man, those eyes...” Carson trailed off as if he were in a trance.
“Are you going to pick up your daughter or leave her on the floor for Dixie to watch?” Ten couldn’t help but laugh over the way Dixie was standing at Stephanie’s head, standing guard. The baby kept reaching for the puppy’s ears, which Dixie would perk up at the last second to keep out of her pudgy grasp.
“What?” Carson shook his head.
“Your baby.” Ten pointed.
“Hmm.” Carson scooped her up. “Those eyes, Ten.”
“Are you in an actual trance?” Ten shifted Bertha to one hip and waved his free hand in front of Carson’s eyes. “What’s our secret code word?”
“Seriously? Prickly pear.” Carson looked like he thought Ten had lost his marbles.
Ten relaxed a bit. “Would you still be able to remember their code word if Jude were exercising some form of mind control over you?” Ten whispered.
“I’m not exercising mind control!” The dick in question shouted. “Can we eat please? I’m so hungry that this little baby is looking quite tasty!”
“That dirty bastard!” Carson raced into the kitchen.
Jude was sitting at the dining room table and laughing his ass off. “Guys, I know what’s going on here.”
“We’re about to grab pitchforks and torches,” Carson said, with his dander up.
“Why don’t we grab some food instead?” Truman offered. He pried the plastic lid off the cold cut tray.
“Good idea.” Ronan opened the chip bags and started grabbing condiments out of the fridge.
“Oh, and by the way, I have supersonic hearing or whatever.” Jude flashed Tennyson a wicked grin. “You wanted your friends to check me out, right, O’Mara?” Jude asked.
“Something like that,” Ronan admitted.
“Why?” Jude seemed genuinely surprised. “I’ve been a P.I. here in Massachusetts for three years now. My license is in good standing. Bradford Hicks wouldn’t have hired me to work on such a high-profile case if my credentials weren’t stellar. So, what the hell is your problem?”
The room went silent. Everyone looked around at each other without making eye contact with Jude.
“Come on people. I’m clean. I don’t eat kids and I don’t have a hump on my back. Yeah, I can be a bit surly at times, but that’s no crime.” Jude looked around the still quiet room.
“A bit surly?” Ronan asked under his breath. He looked up at Tennyson.
Ten took a deep breath. “Do you believe in my gifts?”
Jude threw his hands up in the air. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Answer the question, butt munch. It will make things go easier on you,” Fitzgibbon half-growled.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Jude sighed. “I’ve read about you in the papers. I’ve seen stories about you on television and I saw what you did with Tank in the prison. You’ve never read me and told me I was a Zulu warrior in a past life, so I don’t know if I personally believe in what you do.”
Ten nodded. It was an honest answer. “That’s the problem, Jude. I can’t read you.”
Jude pushed out a harsh breath. “Well, you don’t have to be such an asshole about it.”
Fitzgibbon put a heavy hand on Jude’s shoulder. “He’s not saying he won’t read you. He’s saying he can’t. Who’s the asshole now?”
Jude cocked his head to the side. “I don’t understand.”
“When I meet strangers, usually my spirit guides and my own intuition give me some clue about the person. Are they good or bad? Do they have something to hide? I got none of that when we met in the prison. To be honest, I was sick that day from all of the negative energy there. Fifty years’ worth of residue from killers and rapists was making me physically ill.”
“I didn’t know that could happen.” Jude sounded sympathetic.
“I didn’t know it could either. Not to that level, anyway.�
�� Ten shrugged. “I figured I would be able to get a better read on you the next time we saw each other, but that day in Charlestown, I couldn’t read you then either.”
“Explain that to me.” Jude leaned forward in his seat. All of his attention was tuned into Tennyson.
“Right now, I know Ronan wants me to hurry this up because he wants a sandwich. He’s thinking about how he wants to get it on later. He’s also thinking that your cologne is off the hook.” Ten raised an eyebrow at his husband. “No, asshole, I’m not wearing it for you.”
Ronan started to laugh.
“Those are just the PG-13 rated things he’s thinking. His left foot is asleep and he’s got an itchy left ear.” Ten smiled at his husband.
As if on cue, Ronan scratched.
“When I try to read you, Jude, I get nothing at all. You’re completely blank.”
Jude’s frown deepened. “So, what, that puts you on edge with me? Or it makes you think I’m a bad person or not trustworthy because you don’t have the upper hand? You’re just a regular guy when we stand toe to toe and you don’t like that, right?”
When Jude put it that way, it made Tennyson sound like the dick and not the other way around. He took an involuntary step back.
“Why don’t we all make a sandwich?” Truman offered.
“I want an answer to my question.” Jude demanded.
“Fine! I do feel a bit off kilter when you’re around. I don’t know if you’re friend or foe or what skin you’ve got in the game with Hutchins. Tank or Tim!” Ten could feel his temper starting to get the best of him and knew it was time to shut up.
Jude looked around the kitchen at all of Tennyson’s friends before his gaze landed back on the psychic. “I always think the best way to find out the answers to questions like that is to ask. Start an open and honest dialogue with spoken words, instead of poking around inside my head, uninvited. How does that sound?”
