by Pandora Pine
“A warrant? For what?” She blinked at Tennyson as if she couldn’t believe the words she was hearing.
“Ronan was shot with Tony’s gun,” Fitzgibbon said gently.
“Oh, no! No!” Carlie shouted. Her voice echoed in the small entryway. “Remember the last time you falsely accused my husband of something, captain?”
Tennyson shifted from one foot to the other in the hot August sun. Carlie was referring to the Michael Frye case. One lone hair was found in the underwear of the murdered boy. The DNA said the hair belonged to Tony Abruzzi. What the lab report couldn’t have told Ronan or Captain Fitzgibbon was that the evidence had been planted there by the real killer.
“Carlie, we have to let them into the house. I have to turn over my gun,” Tony said in a resigned tone.
“We were all at the beach the day Ronan was shot. There must be camera footage of us all over the place. We stopped at that rest area in Plymouth. The one with the McDonalds and the wooden Indian head carving. There has to be security cam footage of us there. That will prove Tony didn’t shoot Ronan.” Carlie fisted her hands on her hips. The look in her eyes was defiant.
“What’s going on?” Keegan walked halfway down the hall toward the front door.
“It’s okay boys,” Carlie called back. “Keep studying!”
“We’re not accusing anyone of shooting Ronan,” Fitzgibbon said as he entered the house. “I will need you to show me where you keep the gun, Tony.”
“Sure, it’s in my gun safe upstairs.” Tony led the way.
Fitzgibbon trailed behind him and Tennyson followed.
Tennyson could hear Carlie on the stairs behind him. He knew how hard this was for his friends, but knew the best thing he could do at the moment was to keep his mouth shut. Anything he said was only likely to make things worse, not better.
Tony stopped at the last bedroom and flipped on the light. It was a large room, painted a soothing light blue color. A large, king-sized bed sat against the center wall. Tony walked past it, toward a narrow hallway with two door openings. “This is my closet. The gun safe is in here.” He flipped the light on and stood to the side.
Fitzgibbon peered into the closet. Tennyson managed to get a look into the small room. It was well organized and neat as a pin. Sitting on top of the small white dresser was a metal box that was a bit bigger than a shoe box. It had lock that needed a key.
“Do you have the key, Tony?” Fitzgibbon asked.
Tony nodded and stepped around the captain. He unlocked the safe and stepped back out into the hallway.
Fitzgibbon set his evidence kit down and pulled out his camera. He took photographs of the room and the gun safe. Snapping on gloves, he pulled the gun out of the safe and took a few more pictures.
Tennyson couldn’t help feeling sick to his stomach. The weapon looked lethal just sitting on the top of the dresser. He watched while Fitzgibbon took the clip out and made notations of the condition of the gun and the number of rounds in the clip. That was the weapon that had nearly killed Ronan.
He could feel his emotions welling up to the surface, but wouldn’t let them break free. Once this case was solved he could cry all he wanted, just so long as Ronan wasn’t around to hear or see him. Ten shook his head to snap himself out of his own thoughts. When he looked back up, Fitzgibbon had the gun out of sight in a bag, which he was carrying to his evidence kit.
“Carlie, the other thing the search warrant gives us permission to do is to look for Ronan’s gun.” Fitzgibbon snapped the closures on his kit and looked up at her from the floor.
“Ronan’s gun? I don’t understand.” She looked between Tennyson and Fitzgibbon.
“Whoever shot Ronan also stole his gun. It was gone when Truman found him bleeding to death on our front steps.” Tennyson could feel anger starting to churn in his gut. He understood that Carlie was trying to protect her husband at the moment, but Ronan was lying in a fucking coma and someone in this house was responsible for that. “I get that you’re still upset about what happened in the Michael Frye case, Carlie, but I can assure you, no one is being set-up here. I know Ronan’s gun is in this house and I can tell you exactly where it is.”
Carlie and Tony shared a wordless look with each other. “Where is it?”
“In a shoebox under Keegan’s bed,” Tennyson said simply.
“Keegan didn’t shoot Ronan. He was at the beach with us that day,” Carlie said. “Mark was the only one who didn’t come with us on the trip. He said he had a headache.” She looked stunned by her own admission.
“I know, Carlie.” Tennyson set a hand on her shoulder and headed out of the room. He could hear Fitzgibbon’s heavy footfalls behind him. He stopped outside of Keegan’s room and waited for everyone to catch up to them.
Tony walked into the room and motioned to Fitzgibbon to follow. Both men knelt down next to the bed and lifted up the comforter. With gloved hands, Fitzgibbon pulled the shoe box out from under the bed and lifted up the lid.
“Found it,” Fitzgibbon said softly as he reached for his evidence kit.
“What happens now?” Carlie asked. The color had drained out of her face. She was trying valiantly to hold herself together, but Tennyson could see she was barely hanging on.
“The lab has to analyze both weapons. They’ll look for DNA and fingerprints.” Ten shrugged. “You know what happens after the lab finds them.”
“You think my son shot Ronan.” It wasn’t a question. Carlie’s eyes burned with anger and fear.
Tennyson looked up at her with a mix of emotions. On the one hand, Tennyson admired her for being on Mark’s side. The boy had only been in her custody for four months now and she was fighting for him as if he were her own biological child. Mark had certainly fallen into the right family. On the other hand, her son had nearly murdered Ronan and had four more people on his so-called kill list. She deserved to know as much of the truth as he could tell her. “Listen to me very carefully, Carlie. I was able to speak to Ronan while he was in his coma. I know Mark’s hand held the gun, but it wasn’t Mark who shot him.”
Carlie’s face was a mass of confusion. “What are you saying, Tennyson? The devil made him do it?”
“In a way. Ronan thinks Mark is being influenced by the spirit of Rod Jacobson.” It made Tennyson’s stomach crawl just saying those words out loud.
“What, like a possession? Like The Exorcist?” She sounded dubious at best.
Ten gave a sharp nod of his head. “Ronan said that when Mark grabbed him it was with a strength the boy couldn’t possibly possess and that his voice changed. When he spoke, he used words Jacobson used. He said things that only Jacobson could have known.” Tennyson took a step closer to Carlie. “There are more people Jacobson wants to kill: Fitzgibbon, Greeley, Jace Lincoln. Me. He’s going to come after Ronan again. I’m sure of it.”
Tony took a step toward Tennyson. “You coming into my house with warrants for guns having to do with my best friends near assassination is one thing, but you standing here and saying you think our son is possessed by the demon of a dead serial killer? Have you lost your mind, Grimm?” Tony looked around at his wife and Fitzgibbon for support. “Maybe Mark isn’t the one with the problem here. Maybe it’s you.” Tony’s voice was on the verge of breaking.
Fitzgibbon reached a hand out to steady the BPD veteran. “I cannot even begin to imagine what you’re going through or how hard this situation is on you and your family, Tony. I give you my personal assurance that this case is being handled with the utmost care and professionalism. As for what Tennyson is saying about a possible possession,” Fitzgibbon took a deep breath. “We both grew up in the Catholic Church. We both know the signs to look for.”
Tony opened his mouth as if he were going to interrupt Fitzgibbon.
Fitzgibbon held up a hand to stop the interruption. “Think about it, Tony. When you’ve had a chance to calm down a bit.” The captain gave Tony’s shoulder a squeeze before he turned back to Tennyson. “I’m all set
here, Tennyson. Are you?” Fitzgibbon asked.
“I want one more thing. Carlie, you know what it is.” Tennyson watched her closely to see if she understood him. “Captain, we’re gonna need another evidence bag.”
“This thing you want isn’t on the search warrant, Grimm,” Tony said with anger in his voice. His eyes burned with it.
Tennyson straightened his spine. He could feel the rage emanating from Tony, but he wasn’t about to be intimated by him. “You’re right. It isn’t. I want to channel the spirit of Rod Jacobson. In order to do that, I need an object that belonged to him. Your son has one.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Mark doesn’t have anything that belonged to that sadistic bastard.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yes, he does. I didn’t tell you about this, Tony. I’m sorry. Things were going so well over the last few days and Tennyson didn’t really find anything and…” Carlie trailed off, her voice shaking.
“You didn’t tell him about my walk-through of the house and what I found?” Tennyson was stunned. Carlie had promised she would tell her husband about his visit.
“Someone had better tell me what’s going on,” Tony said, his voice was dangerously quiet.
“Carlie invited me over the day after we had dinner. I did a walk-through of the house. I didn’t detect any malevolent spirits, but encountered an energy that made me feel sick. There’s a shoe box under Mark’s bed filled with newspaper clippings of Jacobson’s crimes and the shootout at the motel in Revere.”
Tony frowned. “That doesn’t sound crazy to me, Tennyson. A lot of kids collect things like that.” He sounded vindicated.
“There was a lock of hair in the bottom of the box tied with a ribbon. The hair belongs to Rod Jacobson.” Tennyson took a step back, just in case Tony lost his temper.
Tony shot his wife an angry look and pushed past everyone in the hall, moving quickly toward Mark’s door. “Show me where!”
“Under the far side of the bed.” Tennyson pointed. He stood and watched from the doorway while Tony strode to the far side of the bed and pulled up the comforter, then pulled out the box. Tennyson was feeling a wave of nausea just from standing in the doorway. He wasn’t going to risk getting sick by taking a step into the room.
“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered under his breath. “How did we not know about this?” Tony shot his wife a desperate look.
“He’s a teenager with a long history of mistrusting adults,” Fitzgibbon said. He walked past Tennyson into the room. “Do you want the whole box, Ten, or just the hair?”
Ten shivered. “Just the hair.”
“What’s going to happen when Mark notices it’s gone?” Carlie asked. There was fear in her voice.
Tennyson didn’t want to stick around to find out. He had a feeling Mark was going to be filled with rage and looking to strike out at someone. It could be just the trigger that sent him after one of the people on his kill list or made him hurt a member of his family. “You know your son better than the rest of us, but it might be a good idea to get everyone out of the house. Maybe go stay with your mother?”
“This is a family matter, Tennyson. We’ll thank you to mind your own fucking business. We’ve got it from here.” Tony’s voice brooked no argument.
Tennyson nodded and headed toward the stairs. He was glad Ronan wasn’t here to see the way his friend was acting.
33
Ronan
Ronan could still hear the monotonous beeping of his heart. Not that he was complaining. He’d also heard a lot of salacious gossip concerning a certain nurse and one of the ICU docs. It turned out real life actually was like an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. He just hoped that if he coded that it wasn’t when Doctor Hot Pants and Nurse Booty were off getting hot and bothered in the supply closest.
He’d listened to hours of conversation from Truman and Carson. They talked endlessly about the babies and read him stories from the local newspapers about his shooting. As if he needed to hear news reports about that. He was there. He knew what happened. Not that he wasn’t grateful for the company. He was.
Carson and Truman also read him letters and cards from well-wishers. Top among them was Greeley. Apparently, Fitzgibbon had heard about Jacobson’s kill list and was keeping Greeley under lock and key. Thank Christ he’d been able to pass that little bit of information along to Tennyson. It didn’t seem like the captain was keeping himself out of the line of fire, but Ronan hadn’t expected his boss to do that anyway.
The highlight of his days were the many letters from Greeley. Even though he was supposed to be studying for his GED final exams, he always seemed to find time to send letters asking how Ronan was doing. He couldn’t wait to wake the hell up so that he could make the conversation two-way, instead of just being on the listening end of things.
“Well, there’s my handsome man!” Tennyson greeted.
Ronan felt Tennyson press a gentle kiss to his forehead and wished he could return the gesture.
“How’s he doing?” Ten asked.
“Still the same,” returned Truman. “I’ve been reading him the paper and today’s card delivery. Greeley’s morning message was something else. I’ll tell you, I love that kid more every day.”
“Me too,” Tennyson agreed. “I just wish the Abruzzis had gotten as lucky as Fitzgibbon with their sons.”
“How’d it go over there today with the search warrant?” Truman sounded concerned.
“Not well.” Tennyson sounded tired.
Ronan felt his fiancé pick up his hand and press a kiss to the back of it. Part of him wished he could have been there to execute the warrant with Tennyson, but the other part of him was glad he didn’t have to see the anguish on Tony and Carlie’s faces.
“It was bad. Tony thought the warrant was bullshit. Until he realized Mark hadn’t gone with them to the beach the day Ronan was shot. He was even more pissed when he realized I knew where Ronan’s gun was already. Then came the big surprise.” Ten sighed.
What big surprise? Ronan wished he could shout.
“What big surprise?” Truman asked.
Thanks, Tru! Ronan snorted to himself.
“Carlie didn’t tell Tony about my visit or what we found.” Tennyson sounded disappointed.
Ronan had a feeling that was the case. He hadn’t heard from Tony at all after Tennyson’s visit. He knew his friend very well and knew if Tony had found out about Tennyson being there, he would have gotten an angry call about it. Tony wasn’t a sceptic about Tennyson’s gift any longer, but thanks to his strong Catholic faith, he didn’t want Tennyson flaunting his powers in his house either.
Truman sighed. “You mean the box filled with the newspaper articles and the hair clipping?”
“Exactly,” Ten agreed. “Tony was upset when he found out I’d done a walk-through of the house, but he was even more at a loss when he found out about Mark’s little treasure trove.”
“This gives me a lot to think about for when the babies get older. I mean, teenagers deserve their space and privacy, but Tony and Carlie should have known what was in Mark’s room.”
“I agree with you, Truman, but before you met Carson and the rest of us, would a lock of someone’s hair have freaked you out?”
Ronan was shaking his metaphorical head. He knew his mother had kept a lock of his own hair from his first haircut as a toddler. It was in an envelope in his baby book. If he remembered right, the book was in a box in his office. Didn’t all parents have that kind of keepsake?
“No,” Truman agreed. “After talking to Carson, I know now that hair can be used for some powerful magic if it falls into the wrong hands, but before that conversation, I would have thought it was a romantic gesture. I would have had the safe sex talk with my son and bought him condoms.”
Tennyson snorted. “I don’t even want to think about a time when condoms and other forms of birth control are even mentioned in your house.”
Ronan chuckled in his mind. He wanted
front row seats and a bowl of popcorn for that day. Carson was going to lose his mind over the thought of any of those babies becoming sexually active. On the plus side, their dates were all going to be chaperoned by their very protective Mimi.
“Thank God we’ve got years to go before that’s even an issue,” Truman said. “But, back to Tony and Carlie’s house. Did you find the guns?”
“Both of them,” Tennyson agreed. “Fitzgibbon photographed them and collected both in evidence bags. He was on his way to drop them off to the crime lab when we parted ways. He’ll let us know if they find fingerprints or DNA on them, but I’m thinking there won’t be any evidence at all on either gun that points to Mark.”
“Why do think that?”
“If Rod Jacobson was still in charge of Mark’s body, he would have made sure the guns were wiped down for all evidence. I’m thinking there will be evidence on both guns that points the finger at one of his brothers.”
Ronan agreed with Ten’s assessment. He was turning into one hell of a cop. The kid probably put the guns in one of his sleeping brother’s hands to get his fingerprints and DNA on them.
“You really think Jacobson’s spirit is trying to possess Mark?” Truman sounded stunned.
“Ronan thinks so and I have a way to find out.”
“What do you mean you have a way to find out.” Truman’s voice had a curious but cautious undertone.
Ronan wanted to know the answer to that question too. He was listening extra hard for Tennyson’s answer.
“I want to channel Rod Jacobson’s spirit.” Tennyson sounded bound and determined.
“Jesus, Ten! Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Truman curious tone was gone, replaced now by fear.
Oh, hell no! That was the worst idea Ronan had ever heard in his life. Thankfully, it wasn’t going to be possible. Ronan knew how hard it was to channel spirits that didn’t have a personal connection to you, especially if you didn’t have an object belonging to them that they connected to. Ronan knew that Tennyson didn’t have anything of the kind. He relaxed a bit. He didn’t even think Bertha Craig would be crazy enough to go looking for Jacobson on the other side.