Dead Speak

by Pandora Pine

  Ronan’s gut tightened. O’Dwyer had a good point. Several of them in fact. “Good catch. We’ve gotta get CSU up here to dust for prints and do a work-up. I don’t want to come any further into the room and risk contaminating it any more than it already is.”

  O’Dwyer rolled his eyes. “I cracked the case and you’re saying I contaminated the scene.”

  Ronan ignored him. “Look around. Do you see anything else on the floor?”

  “Care to be more specific, Detective?” O’Dwyer’s green eyes looked put upon.

  “If Tennyson was taken out of here, it was against his will. He’s watched enough cop shows on television to know to leave me a clue of some sort.”

  “Okay, Columbo,” O’Dwyer muttered, before pivoting on his knees to look around.

  “What’s going on?” Fitzgibbon asked from behind Ronan.

  “O’Dwyer found a broken mug and spilled green tea. He reminded me that Ten came in here for tea.”

  “Why is O’Dwyer crawling around on the floor like my cocker spaniel looking for a place to lie down?”

  “He’s looking for any clue Tennyson might have dropped.” Ronan couldn’t believe he was having to explain this to the captain. It looked pretty obvious to him what was going on.

  “You think Tennyson was kidnapped in the middle of a police station?” Fitzgibbon sounded dubious.

  The idea sounded crazy to Ronan too, but if not that, where had Tennyson gone without his phone?

  “Found something!” O’Dwyer shouted.

  “What is it?” Ronan craned his neck to try to see around the table O’Dwyer had crawled under.

  “I have no friggen clue. It looks like some kind of rainbow colored stone.”

  Ronan started to laugh.

  “What the hell is funny?” Fitzgibbon sounded like he thought Ronan was losing his mind.

  “Tennyson and his anxiety rocks,” Ronan said as if that explained everything. “He’s always giving them to me to calm my nerves. He was here in this room. Between the spilled tea and the rock, he was definitely here.” Ronan’s giddy mood sobered instantly.

  Tennyson may have been here before, but he wasn’t here now. “Someone took him, captain.”

  “In order to get him out of here, that person would have had to walk him past a room full of cops. A room full of trained detectives.” Fitzgibbon looked like he wasn’t buying Ronan’s take on the situation.

  “Well, then one of them must have seen something or someone.” Ronan was counting on his colleagues having seen something, otherwise his chances of being able to find Ten were slim to none.

  42

  Tennyson

  Tennyson couldn’t help thinking the abject fear coursing through his entire body as he rode the elevator down with Josh Gatlin was exactly what Michael Frye had felt in his last moments of life. What Tennyson needed to do was keep his mind clear so he could find a way out of this mess and didn’t end up sharing the rest of the little boy’s fate as well. “Where are we going?”

  “You’re the fuckin’ psychic,” Josh snorted. “You tell me.” The elevator door pinged open in the underground parking garage. Josh roughly grabbed Tennyson’s left arm and started dragging him to the left.

  Tennyson knew this was his moment to escape. He jerked his arm away from Ronan’s ex-husband and bolted. He had no idea where he was going, but his instincts were telling him to run as far and as fast as he could.

  He’d only gotten a few steps away when he was tackled hard from behind. Ten’s face bounced off the cold concrete floor. “You’re not exactly Usain Bolt there, ghost whisperer,” Josh panted in his ear. “Guess that’s my fault for not doing this sooner.”

  Tennyson’s face was on fire from where it had slid against the parking garage floor. He could feel blood dripping from his nose. Under ordinary circumstances that would be a bad thing, but he knew his blood, his DNA, to be exact, would be one more clue to help Ronan find him. He also had a feeling he’d be sporting one hell of a shiner come morning. Ten only hoped he’d live long enough for Carson to tease him about it.

  “Here we go.” Josh’s gravelly voice brought him back to the present. “Pretty bracelets for the pretty princess.”

  Cold metal wrapped around his wrists before he heard the click of what he knew were handcuffs. Josh pinched them extra tight, so there was no way he could wiggle out of them.

  “Much better,” Josh cooed as he yanked Tennyson back to his feet.

  The cold metal dug into his wrists, but Ten would be damned if he’d give the sadistic bastard the pleasure of hearing him cry out in pain. His vision swam in front of his eyes for a second and he almost stumbled to his knees. Thankfully, Josh caught him before that happened.

  “Lookin’ a little woozy there, buddy.” His smile was full of charm and evil intent.

  “I’m not your buddy!” Tennyson remembered Michael Frye’s spirit saying those exact words to Ronan several weeks back. He understood now exactly why the boy had been so vehement. Josh must have used the same honorific with him, not to mention the fact that Michael had known his rapist and killer as Officer Buddy.

  “Oh, you will be.” Josh grabbed Tennyson’s elbow and dragged him toward a row of police cars.

  Tennyson shivered. He knew Josh’s taste ran to children, but had no doubt the detective would repeatedly rape him until Ronan found them. He didn’t need to be a psychic to figure out the cop’s game plan included torturing him, then Ronan, before killing them both, and as many cops as he could before committing suicide by cop. What Tennyson needed to do was figure out a way to stop all of those things from happening.

  When they got to Josh’s squad car, he pushed Tennyson against the back passenger door, before pressing their bodies together. “As much as I’d like to put you in the trunk, I’d hate for you to kick out the taillight or something equally mischievous. Rumor has it, you’re quite the Law and Order fan.”

  Josh’s arousal was obvious. Feeling his erection press against Tennyson made him want to throw up. He could still feel blood dripping down his face and had no doubt that was what was making Josh’s cock so hard.

  “We have so much in common, you and I. It’s too bad we didn’t meet under different circumstances.” Josh licked a stripe up the side of Tennyson’s face.

  Tennyson felt his stomach pitch in revolt, but he wasn’t going to let Josh get the upper hand. “Different circumstances wouldn’t have mattered. I’m a psychic, remember? I can read you like a book. I never would have let a child-murdering pedophile lay a finger on me.”

  Josh’s dark eyes narrowed on Tennyson, while his mouth screwed into a snarl. “Read me like a book? You’re full of shit, ghost whisperer. It took you nearly two months to figure out I was the one who fucked and then killed the Frye boy.” Josh waggled his eyebrows at Tennyson. “I can’t wait to tell you all about that night. God, my dick is so fucking hard just thinking about it.” Josh leaned in to plant a cinnamon-flavored kiss on Tennyson’s blood-stained lips. “But that’s going to have to wait for Ronan. The star of our little show.”

  Tennyson opened his mouth to tell Josh not to fucking kiss him again, but Josh’s fist stopped him cold. The last thing he heard before the blackness took him was the sound of Josh’s cruel laughter.

  43

  Ronan

  Ronan stormed back into the squad room, which had gone silent as the grave. None of the other cops were talking to each other. Hell, it barely looked like any of them were breathing. Ronan took a deep breath. The men and women in this room were his brothers and sisters in blue. He would put his life in any one of their hands. He knew none of them would hesitate to help him now, maybe with the exception of his ex-husband, who, at first glance, he didn’t see in the room.

  “Tennyson is missing. His phone is here on my desk, but he's nowhere to be found. It looks like he was in the kitchen, and was taken out of there by force. Did any of you see him leave with another cop?” Ronan was on the edge here. It was taking all the strength he
had to keep his composure.

  No one made a sound. Some of the detectives exchanged looks with each other, but no one spoke.

  “Now isn’t the time for games, people.” Fitzgibbon said from behind Ronan. “Our fucking motto can’t be, ‘See something. Say something,’ if we don’t follow it ourselves. I’m standing in a room full of the best detectives in the god damned country. One of you had to see something.” Fitzgibbon crossed his arms over his broad chest.

  “I saw Tennyson walking toward the elevator with Detective Gatlin,” a detective said from the back of the room. “They were laughing. I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, O’Mara. Looked to me like they were pretty cozy. Didn’t see no gun to his back, if you know what I mean.”

  Laughter broke out in the squad room.

  Ronan had never wanted to shoot a man more in his entire life. He took a deep, cleansing breath, like he’d been taught in rehab. Nope, didn’t work… He still wanted to shoot the dumb fucker right in the face. “Jesus Christ, Sabato! Josh Gatlin is our prime suspect in the Michael Frye case! I saw his name on the Officer Buddy list and before I knew Tennyson was missing, I did a little research and found out he was the Officer Buddy who had been at Michael Frye’s school a few days before the boy was kidnapped. We think he planted Tony Abruzzi’s hair on the child’s body to frame him, and now he’s got Tennyson, the only man who can prove Josh killed the boy!” Ronan growled and turned suddenly, running headlong into the captain.

  “Slow down. Let’s think this through before you run off half-cocked.” Fitzgibbon grabbed Ronan’s arm and guided him toward his office.

  Ronan’s mind was spinning. He needed to get out there and find Tennyson before it was too late. He knew Josh wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Tennyson for his own pleasure, but he had a feeling that knowing it would hurt Ronan too would just be icing on the cake for his ex.

  When the door was closed behind them, the captain sat down with a heavy sigh. “I thought we had our suspect locked up, Ronan. You want to explain this alternate suspect theory to me?”

  “Captain, I’m sorry, I-”

  Fitzgibbon held up a beefy hand. “Explain now. Apologize later. If Gatlin has Tennyson, every second counts.”

  Sighing, Ronan met the captain’s eyes. “Ten and I never thought Tony was guilty of this murder. I’ve known Tony for too many years to think he was capable of this and Tennyson read him and didn’t see this crime in him either. I knew I had to make the interrogation look good or you’d pull us off the case and any other detectives you assigned would mail it in since we had a suspect in custody with iron-clad DNA.”

  Fitzgibbon raised a skeptical eyebrow, but stayed silent.

  Relief flooded through Ronan’s body. “Tennyson and I kept investigating. You gave him the Officer Buddy roll list and we went through it. Josh’s name was on it and like I said out there, he was the officer who visited Michael Frye’s school the week he disappeared.”

  It was Fitzgibbon’s turn to sigh. “So, you think Tennyson, what, had some kind of vision or something?”

  “Its possible Josh cornered him in the kitchen and that set off something.” Ronan hated flying blind like this with no facts, just conjecture. “Wait! Hold on a second.” He dug his phone out of his back pocket and pressed the button for Carson. If anyone could help them right now, it was Tennyson’s best friend.

  “What’s wrong with Tennyson?” Carson’s concerned voice boomed through the phone.

  “I’m hoping you can tell me.” Ronan shrugged at his captain’s shocked face. He mouthed the word, “psychic,” as if that would explain everything to his boss. “I was in a meeting with my captain and when I came out, Tennyson was gone.”

  “What do you mean gone? Gone as in gone out for a cup of coffee?” Carson’s voice was rising in tone.

  “No, Carson. Another detective saw him leaving with my ex-husband.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” Carson went silent. “I can’t reach him, Ronan,” Carson sounded panicked.

  “Ten left his phone on my desk.”

  “No, I mean through our link. Our connection,” Carson emphasized.

  “What? You mean like your own psychic hotline?” Fitzgibbon asked.

  “Not the time for jokes, Captain.” Ronan shook his head. “What would cause you not to be able to reach him?” Ronan was starting to feel as panicked as Carson sounded.

  “If he were out cold or…” Carson stopped talking.

  Or dead… Ronan knew that’s what Carson was trying to say.

  “It’s possible whoever has him could have knocked him out or it’s more likely that whoever has him overpowered him with too much psychic garble. The last time this happened was because a spirit gave him too much information,” Carson said matter-of-factly.

  “I had no idea that was even possible” Ronan looked up at Fitzgibbon, who shrugged.

  “A few months ago, Tennyson had a visitation. This young man’s spirit came to him in the shop after he was newly dead. He didn’t know how to do dead speak yet, so he touched Ten instead and it sort of short-circuited him.”

  “Short-circuited him?” Ronan was totally confused now.

  “Yeah, like you know when you plug too many things into one outlet and there’s a bright flash of light and sparks and then the fuse blows? That’s the best way I can describe what happened to Ten. His whole body kind of shook like he was being electrocuted, his eyes rolled back in his head, and then he dropped to the floor.”

  “Jesus Christ. What happened next?” Ronan pinched the bridge of his nose trying to stave of the headache he felt coming on. He needed to find Tennyson before Josh could hurt him more than he already had.

  “He came around about fifteen minutes later. He was a little weak, but was okay. Ten said what he’d seen when the spirit touched him was like a disjointed movie on fast-forward. There was so much information coming at him all at once that it overloaded his system and the only way his body could cope was to shut down.”

  “Like when your computer reboots,” Fitzgibbon muttered.

  “Exactly,” Carson confirmed. “I babied him for the rest of the day. Made him some homemade chicken soup with those little crackers he likes. He was good as new in no time.”

  “Yeah, but the question is, what the hell happened? Did Josh hit him and knock him out or touch him to make him short-circuit?” Ronan was going to kill his ex-husband for hurting Tennyson when he found them.

  “I don’t know,” Carson said sadly.

  “You’re the psychic, Carson. Can you tell me anything?” Ronan felt a prickle of frustration trip down his spine.

  “If I were there with you, maybe, but it doesn’t work like that in the real world, Ronan. You know that, or you should by now. If I knew how to find Ten, you’d be the first to know.” Carson’s voice was thick with emotion, as if maybe he was battling something more than just the situation with Tennyson.

  “Are you okay?” Ronan knew that Carson loved Ten like a brother.

  “This just reminds me of what happened last year with Truman. I knew he was going to be shot by someone, but didn’t know who it was. We both almost died. I don’t want to see something similar happen to the two of you.”

  Ronan nodded sharply. He knew the story well. “I’ll find him, Carson. You have my word.”

  “It sounds like maybe Michael Frye’s killer is closer than either of you know,” Carson cautioned.

  “Yeah, thanks, Carson. We’ll be in touch,” Ronan muttered.

  “Keep him safe, Ronan.” Carson hung up.

  “Wow, no pressure there,” Fitzgibbon snorted. “Is that Carson Craig, the psychic who took a bullet at some Christmas party last year.”

  Ronan smiled at his captain. “Yeah, Tennyson is Carson’s mentor and friend. How did you know about that?”

  “That story was all over the news for weeks last year. Do you live under a rock?”

  “Last Christmas I was so wrapped up in my life with Josh that I wouldn’t have noticed the second com
ing of Christ.” Ronan wasn’t exaggerating.

  “I still can’t believe you were married to that dick.”

  “Yeah, well, ditto,” Ronan agreed. “Anyway, now we’re back at square one.”

  “Maybe not. It’s obvious Josh took Tennyson because he knows something. Josh knows it’s over. He’s looking for some kind of big finish and I’m thinking that big finish involves you in some way. Yeah?”

  Ronan nodded. His mind felt scrambled. Like someone had put it in a blender and hit puree. He needed a minute to pull himself back together.

  “Is there anywhere Josh would have taken Tennyson? Someplace special to the two of you?” Fitzgibbon leaned forward on his elbows.

  “I’m not sure, Captain.” Ronan shook his head. “I need a minute. Let me hit the head and grab some coffee and then we can go over everything I know about Josh.” Without waiting for an answer, Ronan left the office.

  For the second time in as many days, Ronan had lied to his captain. He knew exactly where Josh had taken Tennyson. It was the perfect place for a final showdown between the two of them. Ronan was determined that when the dust settled, and the bullets stopped flying, it would be Josh Gatlin who wouldn’t live to tell the tale.

  44

  Tennyson

  It was the smell of the ocean that brought Tennyson back to his senses. When he tried to open his eyes, the light of the room blinded him and sent a wave of nausea through his body. It was all he could do to keep from gagging out loud. The last thing he wanted to do was alert Josh to the fact that he was conscious again.

  His entire head throbbed. Ten could feel his heartbeat in his face. It let him know he was alive, but at the same time, hurt like a motherfucker.

  Timing his breaths with the crash of the ocean waves, he was able to keep calm and buy some time to think. The best news was that he was still alive. He had no idea where he was, but knew he was near the ocean, which narrowed things down a bit.