Dead To Me (Cold Case Psychic Book 5)

by Pandora Pine

  “I was only thirteen!” Kayla screeched. “I was a little girl. My mother was dead. It was traumatic.” Her voice was high-pitched, as if she were still the same little girl she was all of those years ago.

  “Or you’re lying about that morning and the night before.” Ronan’s voice was calm. He wasn’t impressed with her histrionics. He turned back to Stephen. “Did you ever see those butterfly pajamas again, Stephen?”

  He shot Ronan a confused look “What the hell do pajamas have to do with anything, detective?”

  Ronan was about to give him a clue, but the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Tennyson announced.

  “This is our house. How dare you?” Kayla shouted.

  “Oh, it’s for you.” Tennyson grinned. He walked to the door and opened it. Sheriff Barlow Reed and Deputy Lynn Boone were on the other side.

  “What the hell is going on?” Stephen asked.

  “Like I said, Tennyson had a little chat with the spirit of your dead wife.” Ronan looked up at Tennyson. He noticed that his lover was looking worn to the bone. “Ten, you want to tell the sheriff and the Bradleys what Shannon had to say?”

  “It would be so much easier if the real murderer would just confess.” Ten folded his arms over his chest. He waited patiently for a few seconds in silence.

  “Are you saying Shannon Bradley’s killer is in this house?” Boone pulled out her notebook and grabbed a pen from her top pocket.

  Tennyson nodded. “Shannon Bradley was able to tell me who killed her. There’s also evidence in this very house that will prove who her killer is.”

  “How do we know you didn’t plant the evidence, Mr. Grimm?” Stephen asked. There was no accusation in his voice, just acceptance.

  Tennyson raised an eyebrow. “I was living in Massachusetts at the time of the murder, Mr. Bradley and as you’ll see, the evidence isn’t my style or in my size.”

  “Don’t keep us in suspense Tennyson,” Sheriff Reed said. “Who killed Shannon Bradley?”

  “Kayla did,” Ten said simply.

  “You dirty son-of-a-bitch! How dare you come into my home and accuse me of this!” Kayla screamed. “You can’t let him treat me like this, Daddy!” Kayla yanked on her father’s arm like a preschooler would do.

  “What’s this so-called evidence, Tennyson?” Sheriff Reed asked. “You know we can’t make an arrest based purely on the say-so of a ghost.”

  “Kayla kept the blood-stained pajamas she was wearing when she committed the murder as her trophy. They’re in plastic grocery bag from the Price Chopper. The bag is rolled up and stored in her blue backpack which is hanging on the inside of Jenny’s bedroom closet door.”

  “You realize if there are any such pajamas that they’re now inadmissible, Mr. Grimm. No search warrant had been issued for any such item, nor are you a police deputy. Fruit of the poisonous tree, you know. No judge in the country would allow that evidence in at trial.” Stephen Bradley raised a cocky eyebrow at Tennyson.

  That was the trouble with the O.J. Simpson trial and the onslaught of true crime shows that followed on Investigation Discovery and other similar networks. Everyone thought they knew the rules of law. Ordinarily, Stephen Bradley would be right about the pajamas being inadmissible if Tennyson had gone and found them in Jenny’s closet without a search warrant, but Ronan knew his partner better than that. “Did you go find the pajamas, Ten?”

  Tennyson shook his head. “No. Shannon Bradley told me how she watched Kayla strip in the kitchen after she finished stabbing her. Kayla put the bloody clothes into the plastic shopping bag which she then hid in her school backpack from the previous year which was kept at the back of her closet in their old house back in Union Chapel. She knew in the chaos, no one would think to look for evidence in there and besides, the only person who knew what she’d worn to bed that night was dead. Wasn’t she, Kayla?”

  Kayla didn’t answer. She folded her arms over her chest and kept her eyes on her father.

  “How do you know where the pajamas are now, Tennyson?” Boone asked.

  “Shannon told me.”

  Boone looked confused. “How does she know? She’s a ghost.”

  Tennyson took a deep breath as if he were reaching for reserves of patience. “I know you’ll find this hard to believe Deputy Boone, but some spirits have jobs to do. Some cross right over after they die and we never hear another peep from them here in the physical world. Others are pissed that they’ve died and try to exact a manner of revenge. Others have messages they need to get to loved ones before their work is done.”

  “Which one of those is Shannon Bradley?” Boone asked.

  “She isn’t any of those. Shannon is what I’d call an observer.”

  “An observer?” Ronan asked. That was a new term for him. He’d been working with Tennyson for ten months now and he hadn’t heard anything like that before.

  Ten smiled at Ronan. “Right, an observer. Shannon’s mother was there to greet her when she died. She told Shannon that she was going to need to keep an eye on her family, but didn’t or more likely couldn’t tell her why. Shannon told me she came to see herself as a secret keeper. As her time with her family went on, she kept collecting secrets. The last thing that Shannon’s mother told her was that she and I would meet someday and that I would be the person she would be able to unburden herself to. That’s what happened today. She told me the secret about who killed her, where the bloody pajamas were, and why Kayla wanted her out of the picture.”

  “Shannon told you why?” Stephen’s mouth hung open.

  “Don’t tell me you’re falling for this line of complete and utter bullshit!” Kayla screeched. She was sounding more and more like an outraged child badly in need of a nap, rather than a grown woman.

  “Come on, Stephen. You know why. The reason is written on the walls of this house.” Ronan pointed to the pictures in the dining room. “I asked you earlier why there were no photos of Shannon in this house. You said you carry them in your heart. What child of a murdered mother doesn’t have pictures of that mother all around?” Ronan asked gently. He paused for a moment, hoping Stephen Bradley would figure the answer out for himself. When he stayed silent, Ronan supplied the answer for him. “A child who was responsible for that mother’s death.”

  Stephen turned around and looked at the picture wall in the dining room. He blinked a couple of times, as if he were waking up from some kind of trance and was seeing those images for the first time. “You cut Shannon out of some of the pictures on the wall.”

  “She wasn’t here with us anymore, Daddy,” Kayla stammered.

  “She was my wife, your mother.” Stephen shook his head. “You killed her so you could have me all to yourself, didn’t you?” Anger colored his cheeks.

  “It certainly explains why there’s only one bed upstairs,” Tennyson said.

  “What?” Ronan couldn’t believe his ears. If there was only one bed upstairs then that meant that Stephen and Kayla shared it.

  “I may have taken a wrong turn on my way to the bathroom,” Ten said sheepishly. “I found a master bedroom, an office, and the baby’s room. The only bed upstairs is the queen in the master. There isn’t even a cot in the nursery.”

  “I was a scared little girl!” Kayla screamed. “I was afraid the killer was going to come back and get me. I needed my Daddy to protect me.”

  “You sleep in the same bed with your twenty-three-year-old daughter, Mr. Bradley?” the sheriff asked. His voice was filled with disbelief he wasn’t bothering to mask.

  “You don’t understand. She was terrified after Shannon was murdered. Kayla had night terrors. She couldn’t sleep in her own bed. It was easier for both of us if she shared my bed.”

  “And now, Stephen?” Ronan asked. “How does your daughter sleep now? On her own side of the bed or with her head on your shoulder?” Ronan was having a hard time keeping his breakfast in his stomach.

  “That’s actually a good segue, Ronan. Shannon had one m
ore secret to share with me. One that I really don’t want to be the one to share. Kayla, do you want to field this one?”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You’re a lunatic,” she huffed.

  “How about if I give you a hint? It has to do with your daughter, who’s sleeping upstairs in her crib. Did you know that your mother’s spirit stands guard over the baby? Even at this moment with the truth finally coming out into the light, Shannon is standing at the crib protecting her granddaughter.”

  “Shannon guards Jenny? Why?” Stephen looked truly stymied.

  “Your daughter killed your wife so that she could have you all to herself. You are a smart man, Mr. Bradley. What possible reason could there be for Jenny to be in danger?” Tennyson closed his mouth and looked back and forth between Stephen and Kayla.

  Ronan gasped. He turned to Tennyson with wide eyes. That wasn’t possible. What Tennyson was suggesting just wasn’t possible. He knew deep down in his heart that things like that happened out in the real world, but in his thirteen years in law enforcement, he’d never encountered a case of it actually happening before.

  “What are you trying to say, Mr. Grimm?” Stephen’s voice was just barely above a whisper.

  “Kayla, who is Jenny’s biological father?” Ten asked. His voice was calm and innocent sounding.

  “What the hell does this have to do with anything? My sex life is none of your damn business.”

  “Answer the question, Kayla,” Stephen demanded.

  Kayla shot her father a confused look. “I told you when I got pregnant. It was some asshole I met at a bar over in Denton.”

  “Wrong. Would you like to try again?” Ten asked.

  Stephen’s mouth hung open. “What the hell is going on, Kayla? You told me Jenny’s father was some random one-night stand.”

  “Oh, it was a one-night stand all right, Mr. Bradley, but he wasn’t random. Not at all,” Ten said knowingly. “Your mother’s been with you since the moment her soul left her body, Kayla. She’s seen everything. She knows what you did and who you did it with. This is going to sound a lot better coming from your lips than mine. Last chance.”

  Kayla stood a little taller. A dark gleam came into her eye. “You always said how much you wanted a son, Daddy. A little boy to carry on your name. It was the one thing you always wanted. Mom wouldn’t give it to you, so I tried to instead.”

  Stephen Bradley stood stone still. Ronan wondered for a second if he’d even heard his daughter’s confession.

  “What did you say?” His voice was controlled but full of cold fury.

  “I-I tried to give you a son, Daddy. By the time the ultrasound revealed the baby was a girl it was too late to abort and I was stuck with her. But it’s okay. We can try again for a boy.” She smiled sweetly up at her father.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus Christ. How is this possible? I would remember if I... If we…” Stephen looked askance.

  “You were drunk, Mr. Bradley,” Tennyson was quick to supply. According to Shannon, Kayla was mixing Jack and Cokes for you all night. She waited until you passed out and,” Ten paused. “Well, you know what happened next.”

  “Jenny is my daughter?” Stephen boomed. His voice echoed off the ceiling.

  “She’s our baby, Daddy. You always said how much she looked like me. Didn’t you ever notice how much she looked like you too?”

  Stephen moaned and took off running toward the stairs.

  A moment later Ronan heard the man vomiting in the bathroom. For the first time in a long time he was speechless. He looked over at Tennyson who looked both stunned and sickened in equal measures.

  “Boone, arrest Miss Bradley for the murder of Shannon Bradley. Tennyson, you and I are going upstairs to find the evidence you mentioned earlier. I have a search warrant for the entire house so we aren’t going to have to worry about fruit of the poisonous tree.”

  “Kayla Bradley, you have the right to remain silent…” Boone recited.

  Ronan stood back and watched as Kayla Bradley was led out of the house in handcuffs. She was shouting for her father the entire time and not once did she ask that someone look after her baby.

  33

  Tennyson

  The water in the shower wasn’t hot enough. Tennyson felt like after what he’d listened to and seen at the Bradley house today, it just wasn’t possible to ever be clean again.

  “Scrub harder,” Tennyson commanded Ronan who was using a sudsy puff on his back.

  “No, babe.” Ronan sighed. “Your skin is so red it looks sunburned. If I scrub you any harder it’s going to start peeling off.”

  “I’m not clean enough,” Ten whispered.

  Ronan pulled his lover into his arms. “Yes, you are. I promise, sweetheart. You’re clean from head to toe.”

  Ten looked up at Ronan. His blue eyes were so serious. So steady. “How are you not freaking out right now? Not only were Kayla and Stephen sharing a bed, they were having sex.” Ten shivered again. He’d never forget the way the comforter and then the sheets in the master bedroom glowed when the ultra-violet light came into contact with patches of dried body fluids.

  “I don’t know why I’m not freaking out.” Ronan shook his head. He reached for the water valve and shut off the flow. He stepped away from Tennyson to grab each of them a fluffy white bath towel. He unfolded Tennyson’s and slung it around his shoulders. “Stephen Bradley is in deep denial, that’s for certain.”

  “Do you think he was an active participant? Or was his daughter getting him drunk every time?” Ten asked. That was the thing that was bothering him the most. The sex hadn’t been a one-time thing like Kayla had suggested. It was ongoing. According to the evidence technician, some of the stains on the bedding were fresh. As in from the last forty-eight hours, fresh.

  “I don’t know, Ten.” Ronan scrubbed the towel over his head to dry his hair. “It seems to me like Stephen had to know Kayla killed Shannon, but somehow, he didn’t. It also seemed to me like he should have known Jenny was his baby, but again, somehow, he didn’t. You’d also think that he’d somehow known he was having sex with his daughter…” Ronan trailed off.

  “Are the police going to charge him? I know it isn’t pedophilia, but it’s still incest, right?” Ten shivered, despite how warm it was in the room.

  “Reed didn’t say what his plans were for Stephen Bradley. I assume they’re going to test Jenny’s DNA along with running the DNA on the bed linens. They are both consenting adults, as disgusting as it sounds to say that. Kayla did admit they’ve been sharing a bed since she was thirteen, but she is only admitting to having contact with her father when Jenny was conceived. It seems far-fetched that she’d be lucky enough for that to happen on her first try, but many teenage pregnancies started out with the fallacy that it couldn’t happen the first time they had sex.” Ronan hung up his damp towel and reached for his fresh pair of black boxer shorts.

  “We’re gonna have to tell this story all over to Fitzgibbon and Greeley.” Ten sighed. There was no way in hell he wanted to do that, details and all.

  “I already took care of it. I texted him while you were in the shower without me. I gave him the basics. He wasn’t surprised it came out this way.”

  Ten’s mouth hung open. “What kind of world is it where he isn’t surprised by… by this?”

  Ronan sighed. He took Ten’s face in his hands. “Babe, we’ve been working for the Boston Police Department for a combined total of over forty years. We’ve seen just about everything. This kind of thing is rare, but it does happen. It is the first time we’ve ever encountered a murder so that a daughter could be with a father, but we did have a case about ten years ago where a father killed his child’s mother so that he could molest his daughter and no one would be around to stop him.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Ronan!” Ten felt tears pricking the back of his eyes. “People like that exist in our city?” He wrapped his arms around Ronan’s hips and held on tight.

  “They do
, babe. All I want to do is protect you from this kind of ugliness, but is ignorance really protection?” Ronan rested his forehead against Tennyson’s. “We’re going to be fathers one day and as much as I’m going to want to build a brick wall around our little girl to keep the ugliness of this world from touching her, you have to be the one who stops me and reminds me that there are good people in this world too. People like Fitzgibbon and Greeley and Carson and Truman.”

  Ten sighed. He knew Ronan had the right of it. He knew he was usually the sunshine to Ronan’s cloud-filled sky. The thought that their innocent little girl would be born into a world where this kind of sickness existed made him want to crawl under a rock and hide. “It’s gonna be hard to get the taste of this one out of my mouth.”

  “I know it is, Ten.” Ronan snorted. “But, I might have a way to start us both on the road to recovery.”

  “You do?” Ten pulled back from his lover. “No kidding?”

  Ronan laughed. “No kidding. Your phone dinged with a text message just before I joined you in the shower. I glanced at the screen, in case it was an emergency, and it was from your mother.”

  Ten groaned. “My mother is going to put us on the road to recovery?” Ten shook his head. He supposed after the afternoon he’d had, spending some time with Kaye would be like taking a walk in the park.

  “She invited us to have dinner at her house. Kevin and Greeley too. If you ask me though, it’s Greeley she misses.” Ronan snorted.