Dead To Me (Cold Case Psychic Book 5)

by Pandora Pine

  Tennyson burst out laughing. “You really are awful. You know that? How many times has Mommy Dearest invited us over in the few days we’ve been out here?” Ten held up his right hand, making a zero with his thumb and index finger.

  Hearing Tennyson’s laugh was almost a foreign sound to Ronan. Had it really been that long since Ten had laughed like this? It had been a difficult couple of months since he’d been shot in August, to the conclusion of the Max Harmon case, and now with David Grimm’s death. There really hadn’t been a lot to laugh about. “I say we go and have a great time. I’m looking forward to hearing stories about what you were like when you were little. I hope she’s got pictures too.” Ronan waggled his eyebrows.

  Ronan hadn’t wanted to say anything, but he’d looked over the pictures out for display at Kaye and David’s house and there hadn’t been any of Tennyson at all. It was as if their son didn’t exist. It made Ronan’s blood boil to think they’d erased their son from their lives.

  “I’ll text her back and let her know we’re all coming.” Ten picked up his phone and started typing.

  “At the end of day one do we have any conclusions on the Shannon Bradley case?” Greeley asked as he paged backward through his notes.

  “As much as I kind of hate Janowitz and Walsh, they did a good job investigating the crime,” Ronan noted. “So far as I can tell, every ‘I’ was dotted and every ‘T’ was crossed.” Their attitudes might suck, but they seemed to be competent cops.

  “I agree,” Fitzgibbon chimed in. “I spent two hours reading over the transcripts of interviews they conducted with the husband, his coworkers, neighbors of the couple, and Shannon’s friends. I can’t think of a single question I would have asked that they didn’t in those situations.”

  Sitting forward in his seat, Greeley shrugged, looking uneasy.

  “If you’ve got something to say, son, spit it out. You asked to be here for your fresh perspective. It’s not doing anyone any good if you swallow it down.” Fitzgibbon shot Ronan a look that said, “Watch this.”

  “I agree with both of you, but the one thing I didn’t see was an interview with the daughter. I know she was only thirteen years old at the time of the murder, but she was also the only one home at the time of the crime. At the very least they could have done a cognitive interview with her.” Greeley sat back and looked around the table at everyone.

  Ronan thought Greeley’s words over carefully. A cognitive interview was a process of memory retrieval that walks a victim or eyewitness through what they remember with their five senses rather than grilling them with questions in a typical police interrogation. “Greeley makes a good point. I wonder why they didn’t interview the child at all?”

  “They make such a big deal about hand-holding kids today,” Tennyson started, “that I wonder if someone was trying to protect Kayla? Her father or grandparents, maybe?”

  “Is it possible she was interviewed and those notes are missing?” Greeley asked.

  “Are you getting any kind of vibe about that, Ten?” Ronan turned to his fiancé, who wore a puzzled look.

  Ten shook his head. “No, I’m not getting any kind of deception surrounding this case from inside the sheriff’s office. These deputies did everything by the book. It just seems like the leads dried up.” Ten looked around the table. “It’s like you always say, Ronan, crime doesn’t take a holiday. People move on, memories grow dim. Life goes on, until someone or something comes back around to shake the tree.”

  “Now we’ve got to be ready to see what falls out.” Ronan grinned.

  “The sheriff said the family needs closure on this case, but I wonder…” Fitzgibbon scrubbed his hands over his face.

  “What do you mean, Dad?”

  “It’s been ten years. Stephen and Kayla moved away. Life went on, like Ten said. I looked up Union Chapel’s crime statistics online last night. Shannon Bradley has been the only person murdered in this town in the last hundred and fifty years. It’s not like there’s some serial killer out there picking off members of this town one by one.”

  Ronan nodded. “You’re thinking that if we solve this case it’s going to bring up a lot more heartache for the Bradley family than it’s going to relieve.”

  “I think so,” Fitzgibbon stood up and stretched his long arms over his head. “Not that I think we should let the crime go unsolved and the killer go unpunished.”

  Ronan had to agree with his boss there. Ten years was long enough for Shannon Bradley’s killer to have gotten away with his or her crime. Whether they knew it or not, time was running out on that person’s freedom. Come hell or high water, they were going to find the young mother’s murderer and bring that person to justice.

  21

  Tennyson

  A mixture of excitement and nervous energy was tossing around in Tennyson’s stomach. After they’d all cleaned up the conference room at the sheriff’s station, Ronan had driven everyone back to the hotel to clean up and get ready for dinner. Now they were all on their way to Shelly’s house.

  Ten was calling out directions to Ronan as he drove. He couldn’t believe that after thirteen years he still remembered the way without having to use the GPS.

  “So, Shelly and her husband were foster parents?” Fitzgibbon asked.

  “Yeah,” Ten turned around so he could see Kevin in the backseat. “Usually they had two or three foster kids at a time. They were always tough as nails kids from Kansas City. Kids whose parents had drug problems or who’d gone to prison. These were the kind of kids who’d beat you up for your lunch money.” Ten laughed. “But by the time Shelly was done with them, they were sweet as pie and on the right path. She’d get letters from some of them years later and invitations to their weddings, pictures of their new houses and babies.”

  “That’s pretty amazing.” Fitzgibbon sounded truly awed.

  “I’m just telling you the good stuff. There was plenty of heartbreak too. Kids who ended up going down the same path as their parents or who got pulled out of the Brinkman’s house in the middle of the night to go back home or who got moved on to another house. My mother would always ask why she set herself up for that kind of heartbreak. Shelly always said the kids were worth it.” Tennyson had always wondered though. Even when he’d been a little boy, he could still see the toll getting and then losing those kids had taken on Shelly and her husband.

  Kevin sniffled. “I don’t know what I’d do if someone tried to take Greeley away from me.”

  “I do!” Greeley laughed. “You’d go all Hulk SMASH!”

  Tennyson laughed too. He didn’t think he had the strength to go through that either, coming to love a child only to have to give them up at some point in the future. He startled when Ronan reached over and took his hand.

  “We’re either having biological kids of our own or we’re adopting. I couldn’t do it either, babe. It would kill me to have a child and then have to send him or her back to parents who were just going to mistreat them again. I wouldn’t survive that.”

  Ten leaned over to press a kiss against the side of Ronan’s right temple. “I love when we’re on the same wavelength like that. Besides, a tiny baby girl with your blue eyes and your mother’s red hair is too delicious a creation to pass up. This is it right here.” Ten pointed. “Second house on the left.”

  “Wait! What did you just say?” Ronan sputtered.

  “Second house on the left,” Ten repeated.

  Ronan parked the truck and turned to face Ten. “No. I heard the part about where the house was. I mean what you said about a baby girl with my eyes and my mother’s red hair. Is she real or were you just making a point?” He was practically panting for his next breath.

  Tennyson opened his mouth to answer Ronan’s question, but just as quickly shut it again. His teeth clacked together from the force. There were so few true surprises left in the world. Ten sometimes forgot Ronan still had the gift of surprise in his life. He was going to keep his mouth shut about this if it killed him. �
��That was just me thinking out loud.” Ten rolled his eyes dramatically hoping to sell the point. “Greeley, don’t forget the cheesecake back there.”

  “Oh, I won’t, Uncle Ten. I’ve been salivating over it the whole way here.” Greeley’s excitement was contagious as he hopped out of the truck with the giant box in his arms.

  “Nice try, Kreskin. You don’t fool me for a second,” Fitzgibbon whispered as he shut the back door of the truck.

  Ten turned to face Ronan’s boss. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He raised an eyebrow in challenge before turning and following Ronan and Greeley toward the front door. The last thing he needed was Fitzgibbon’s big mouth ruining his big sell.

  “Hi, boys!” Shelly threw the front door wide open to greet them. The house was a two-story, brick-faced Colonial.

  “No one’s called me a boy in nearly thirty years,” Fitzgibbon snorted.

  “Get used to it.” Ten laughed.

  “Christ, she’s only a few years older than I am.” Kevin seemed to be having a hard time processing that detail.

  “Roll with it, Kevin. Let’s have some fun tonight. Oh, and volunteer to do the dishes, huh?”

  “I can do that. Especially if the meal is top shelf.” His grin stretched from ear to ear.

  “What have you got there, Greeley?” Shelly asked.

  Greeley handed Shelley the box. “We stopped and got a cheesecake for dessert. It’s got four different toppings.”

  “And let me guess, you’ve got dibs on all four, right?” She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, giving him a quick hug.

  “Dad? Can we take Shelly home with us?” Greeley burst out laughing.

  “Thank you for inviting us, Mrs. Brinkman and for having my son’s number so fast.” Fitzgibbon took her tiny hand in both of his and bowed over it.

  “Well aren’t you just the sweetest man. And it’s Shelly. None of that Mrs. Brinkman stuff. Come on in everyone. Dinner is just about ready. I made barbeque. Hope you all brought your appetites.”

  “Wait, you mean like Kansas City barbeque? Like they show on the Food Network?” Greeley’s eyes just about popped out of his head.

  Shelly nodded. “I made ribs, potato salad, coleslaw and corn bread, even though it’s more of a southern staple. I had a feeling you’d like it.”

  “Awesome! I can’t wait to try it. They don’t make that kind of barbeque back in Massachusetts. We’ve been to a couple of places and they add a bunch of heat thinking that takes the place of real KC flavor.” Greeley shook his head sadly.

  “Are you sure you want to be a social worker and not a chef?” Ronan asked.

  “I can be both.” Greeley grinned. “When we get our house, Dad’s gonna get a kick ass grill like the one you and Uncle Ten have and then I can grill my little heart out.”

  “Oh really?” Fitzgibbon crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Like you’d say no to home cooking?” Greeley challenged.

  “The boy has a point, Cap.” Ronan laughed.

  “Greeley, why don’t you help me set the table and you can tell me all about Massachusetts.”

  “Sure!” he followed Shelly into the kitchen, leaving the others in the large living room.

  The room looked suited to Shelly’s tastes, with floral couches and a warm eggshell color on the walls. The television was a small flat screen and didn’t look like it got a lot of use. Stacked up on an end table near a comfortable looking pink chaise were piles of Nora Roberts’ paperbacks and some Sudoku puzzle magazines.

  “Hey, Ten!” Ronan called out from behind him.

  Ten turned to see Ronan standing near a long rectangular table covered in framed pictures.

  “Who is this adorable gap-toothed urchin?” Ronan held up a picture of what could only have been a first grade Tennyson.

  “Oh! My! God!” Tennyson groaned. “I thought my mother burned all the copies of that picture.” Ten could feel his face burning up. He was wearing a little blue button-down shirt and a matching bowtie. Both of his front teeth had fallen out that summer, but his smile was as wide as the Mississippi. He looked happy.

  “Let me see!” Fitzgibbon peered over Ronan’s shoulder. “HA! What a cutie with those flyaway curls and no front teeth.”

  “I need a copy of this picture.” Ronan sounded sincere.

  “I can make you one on the printer in my office,” Shelly offered from behind them.

  “Oh, no, Shelly. You don’t have to do that.” Tennyson prayed she took him up on his offer.

  “We don’t have any pictures of Ten from when he was a little boy. He looks so happy. It would mean the world to me to have a copy of this.” Tears glittered in Ronan’s eyes.

  Ten had no idea Ronan felt that way.

  “Actually, Ronan, after we met at the funeral the other day, I went through all of the pictures I had of Tennyson and made you copies of them all. They’re in an envelope in my office. I knew there would come a day when he would want them. Either in time for your wedding or when little ones of your own came into your lives.” Shelly set a hand on Ten’s shoulder. “Not all of your memories of your family and this place are bad ones simply because the last memory was.” She patted his shoulder and moved away.

  Tennyson had never thought about Union Chapel and his childhood in that light before. As much as he hated to think about it, Shelly might have a point. Not all of his memories had to be painted by the same brush that colored his last day in town.

  “Here you go, Ronan.” Shelly handed him a large, sealed manila envelope.

  “Wow,” Ten was in awe. He had no idea Shelly had that many pictures of him. “Where did all of these come from?”

  “You might find this hard to believe, but your mother was always very proud of you.” Shelly shrugged. “Dinner’s just about ready. Why don’t we head outside to the patio table?”

  Ten felt like he was rooted to the floor. “Did my being gay change all that?” he whispered to Ronan when they were the only two left in the living room.

  Ronan wore a strange look, as if he didn’t quite know how to answer the question. “I’ve never heard news before that made me completely change my mind about something. I’m not sure how I would react to that.”

  Ten frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Your parents spent seventeen years loving and caring for you. They were putting aside a college fund for you. They planned for your future, Ten. Then, you said one sentence and everything changed.” Ronan shrugged. “I guess if you came out and told me that you cheated on me I suppose those words would have a similar effect on me that your coming out had on your parents, but it would take one hell of a long time to get over you, babe.”

  Tennyson’s mouth hung open. “Jesus, Ronan, I would never-”

  “I know you wouldn’t,” Ronan interrupted. “I just couldn’t think of anything else that you could say that could make me all of a sudden just stop loving you. Like, when I was with Josh, his actions made me fall out of love with him over time. I can’t put my finger on just one thing he did, you know?”

  Tennyson nodded. He knew what Ronan was trying to say. “I’ve been over it in my head a million times in the last thirteen years too. How could my telling them I was gay and psychic turn their feelings for me from love to hate in a heartbeat?”

  “Why don’t we ask Shelly about that? Maybe she has an answer you don’t have? Or at the very least a point of view you may not have considered.”

  Ten was about to agree with Ronan, when his stomach growled with hunger, deciding the matter for him.

  When they got outside, dinner was in full swing. Greeley’s plate was loaded so high with ribs, Tennyson was worried there wouldn’t be enough left for him.

  “Got enough food there, kid?” Ronan asked.

  Greeley grinned and shook his head no before he tore into a rib. “So goo!” he muttered around his mouthful.

  Ten assumed he meant, “so good,” and grabbed for the platter of ribs as soon as he and Ronan were
settled in at the table.

  “Can I assume I’m looking at Union Chapel’s newest crime fighters?” Shelly asked.

  Ronan burst out laughing and reached for the potato salad. “Is that just good detective work or does news really travel at the speed of light in a small town?”

  “A little bit of both,” Shelly admitted, sounding a bit sheepish. “I ran into Marcus Boone at the post office this morning and he mentioned his wife, Lynn, was going to be working with out of towners.” Shelly rolled her eyes. “You all are the only out of towners I know of.”

  “Oh, so you invited us to dinner to hear the skinny about the crime?” Fitzgibbon bounced his eyebrows.

  “Of course not, Kevin. It’s obvious you’re looking into poor Shannon Bradley’s murder.”

  Tennyson choked on a bite of cornbread. Ronan whacked his back until he caught his breath. “How’d you know that? You don’t have a bit of the sight too? Do you?” Ten hadn’t sensed anything paranormal about Shelly, but she could be better at masking her powers than he was.

  “No, of course not, silly. We’ve had one murder in this town. It’s now a cold case and we have three famous Cold Case Detectives in our piss-ant town. I don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out which case Barlow Reed has you boys looking into.” Shelly laughed.

  “Wise ass,” Ronan muttered under his breath.

  “Language!” Shelly laughed, slapping out at Ronan with her cloth napkin.

  “Save me, Nostradamus!” Ronan waved his white napkin in the air. “I’m still recovering here.” He went to open his shirt.

  “Not at the table. No one wants to see your scars.” Ten rolled his eyes.

  “He really calls you Nostradamus, Tennyson?” Shelly asked, sounding awed. “I thought that was just a cute thing for the reality show.”

  “Oh no, that was all real.” Ten shot Ronan an annoyed look. “Wasn’t it, snookums?”

  Ronan laughed. “Let’s just say I wasn’t Ten’s biggest fan when we first met. I thought his gift was a bunch of bullshit, if you’ll pardon my French?” He turned a charming smile on Shelly.