17 Ronan
Ronan was bummed that Christmas was over. As much as Shane Matheson’s murder had been on his mind, he’d had a great time celebrating with his family and friends. The kids had spent the afternoon in the pool learning how to snorkel. Surprisingly, Aurora was the best at it. At one point, she’d kept her face in the water for twenty straight minutes, something Ronan didn’t think would be possible for the sensitive little girl. Aurora said she wanted to see life under the sea, just like in The Little Mermaid and Finding Nemo . Ronan had no doubt she’d do exactly that.
Now that the holiday was behind him, Ronan was ready to dive back into the case. He sat at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Rice Krispies, while scrolling through his phone. Jude and Fitzgibbon were doing the same thing, when all three got a text alert.
“Oh, shit,” Jude muttered.
“Double shit,” Fitzgibbon agreed.
Ronan flipped from the sports page of The Boston Globe , to the text message and saw what had Jude and Fitz in a tizzy. It was a message from Captain Richmond. “Body of Jennifer Crewe found this morning. Call me when you get this.”
“I’m assuming this is the woman Patrick Marsh was with at the Christmas Eve party?” Ronan asked, pretty sure of the answer.
Fitzgibbon nodded. “I’ll Facetime Richmond, both of you, get in on either side of me.”
Ronan moved across the table as Fitz placed the call. He was settling into his seat when Richmond’s face appeared on the screen. “You’re all here. Good. Makes this easier. The woman we found dead is one of Patrick Marsh’s former lovers. Her mother found her dead on the kitchen floor this morning. They had a date to shop the after Christmas sales and Jenn never showed up, didn’t call, so the mother came to the house expecting to find that her daughter overslept, instead, she found her body.”
“Cause of death?” Fitzgibbon asked.
“Gunshot wound to the chest.” Richmond put the picture on the screen. A blonde woman in what had been a green dress lay on her back in a pool of her own blood, which stained the front of the dress. Her blue eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
“She’s wearing a party dress, but not the one she wore on Christmas eve,” Jude said. “Who was she out with last night?”
“Marsh,” Richmond said.
“Jesus, it’s almost a carbon copy of Jillian Marsh’s death.” Ronan shook his head. He didn’t like the look of this one bit. “Were there signs of a break in?”
“No, whoever did this had a key. There was no sign of forced entry. When the mother got there this morning, the house was locked up tight. Front and back door. Same goes for the windows. We’ve got crime scene techs at the scene collecting evidence. I have a feeling we’re not going to find much.” Richmond wore a knowing look.
“I thought you assigned a car to keep tabs on Jenn last night.” Ronan didn’t like questioning the captain, but they needed answers to how this could have happened. There wasn’t time to be butt hurt.
“I did,” Richmond said. “They saw Marsh drop Jenn off a little after midnight. He drove straight home and it looked like Jenn had gone to bed. Around three am there was a call for a break-in a few blocks from Jenn’s house. The officers proceeded from her house to the alarm call.”
“Shit,” Fitz muttered under his breath. “What do you want to bet Marsh attempted that break in so that the cops assigned to Jennifer would have to leave the scene?”
“Usually, I’d agree with you, Fitz, but Marsh never left his house after he returned from dropping Jennifer off at home.” Richmond sounded certain.
“Could he have snuck out the back door without your officers seeing him?” Ronan asked, not caring if the question earned him a rebuke from the captain.
“It’s possible,” Richmond said, sounding exhausted. “It’s only twelve blocks between Marsh’s house and Jennifer’s. It was Christmas night, guys just wanted to get home to their families. Can’t blame them for that, but a woman lost her life and my officers failed to protect her.
“I want to speak to Patrick Marsh,” Fitzgibbon said, sounding ready to walk out the door to do exactly that. “He’s killed one wife, poisoned a second, and now his Christmas Eve date is dead. Not to mention a former member of the Boston Police Department. No one else is dying on my watch.”
“I’ll have detectives meet you there. Wait for them, Fitz, do you hear me?” Richmond demanded.
“Yup,” Fitzgibbon said, hitting the button to end the call. “Get Tennyson and let’s go.” He grabbed his wallet and the keys to the van.
“Why do I get the feeling that he’s going to ignore what the captain said?” Ronan muttered.
“I’ve got the same feeling. Should I text Cisco to let him know to expect Richmond’s angry call?” Jude asked.
“Not yet. There will be plenty of time to ask for forgiveness later.” At least Ronan hoped there would be. He’d seen that glint in Fitzgibbon’s eyes before. Ronan knew it meant nothing was going to stop Fitz from going after what he wanted.
Walking out onto the deck, Ronan could see the kids looking for treasures down the beach. He pulled out his phone and sent Ten a message. A few seconds later, his husband was running up the beach towards him.
“Jennifer is dead?” Ten asked.
“Yeah, gunshot wound to the chest, just like Jillian Marsh. It’s too soon to know if the ballistics will match.” Ronan had a feeling it was the same gun. It held a lot of memories for Patrick Marsh if it was indeed the weapon that killed his first wife. As crazy as it sounded, serial killers were sentimental over the tools of their trade. It was usually what got them caught and convicted.
“Cope and Jace are gonna watch the kids, but we owe them.”
“We always do,” Ronan said, escorting Ten into the house where he changed into shoes and headed out the door with Ronan. Jude and Fitz were already inside the van.
“Ronan catch you up?” Fitz asked, as drove toward Marsh’s house.
“Yeah, I’m good to go.” Ten reached for Ronan’s hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Any word from Everly? She predicted this would happen. I would hate like hell for her to have seen the-” Fitzgibbon stopped, eying Ten in the rearview mirror. “That’s wrong. I want her to have seen what happened to Jennifer. If she could tell us how Patrick killed his side piece then we could use that information in an interrogation to make him admit what he did.”
“Take a breath, Fitz,” Ten said softly, his eyes glinting with anger. The warning in his tone was evident. “Everly didn’t say anything when I told her Ronan and I were going to work. I get where you’re coming from with a murdered cop, a dead wife, a poisoned wife and a dead former fiancé on Patrick’s Marsh’s tab, but wishing my six year old daughter had seen a horrible murder is over the line.”
“Ten’s right,” Ronan said. As much as he loved Fitzgibbon and working cold cases with him, he loved Everly more and would do anything to protect her.
Sighing, Fitzgibbon pulled the van over on the side of the road. “You’re right, Ten. I am over the line. I don’t know what it is about this case that has me tied in knots. Marsh knew who we were when we met him two nights ago at the party. He knew not just that we were private investigators, but also cops. He hasn’t gotten away with his wife’s murder for the last ten years because he’s stupid. I’m willing to bet he’s got a Google alert set up for mentions of the Salem Police and now that we’ve started the unit, anything about the cold case squad.” Fitzgibbon shook his head and sighed heavily. “I just wanted this one to be easy. One interview with Marsh. One confession. Then we’re free to enjoy the rest of this vacation with our families. Now a former cop is dead, and so is another women connected to Patrick Marsh. The last thing I want to do is encourage Everly to see something as horrific as a murder. I’m sorry, Ten, I’m an asshole.”
“I can’t argue with you there. Let’s just go see Marsh. I don’t think any of you will need a bulletproof vest.” Ten shut his eyes for a few seconds. “What I don’t like here is that all three of you seem to have thrown common sense and good judgement out the window. You’re going to interview a man who could have possibly killed three people and poisoned another and you’re unarmed and unprotected. You’re breaking all kinds of protocols here and I can’t imagine Captain Richmond would want the three of you crashing in on Marsh without a search warrant or a weapon between you.”
“I’ve got my pocket knife.” Jude said holding it up.
“Not helping,” Ronan snapped.
“And just how is that going to protect four of us against a man with a gun he isn’t afraid to use?” Ten’s voice was filled with sarcasm. When no one answered him, Ten crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s just do this.”
The remainder of the ride was silent, but for the voice of the navigation system, telling Fitz when to turn. He parked the van several houses down. “Ronan, you’re in charge. I’m too emotional and apt to make a poor decision.”
Ronan knew Fitz had already made several bad decisions. All he could do now was try to keep from making any more. “Keep your eyes wide open. Ten, if you’re feeling something, say something.”
Ten nodded and got out of the van.
Ronan clipped his badge onto the front of his pants so it would be visible to Marsh when he rang the doorbell. He noticed Jude and Fitz were also wearing theirs. He climbed the front stairs and could hear the drone of a television from inside the house. With a nervous twitch in his hand, Ronan rang the doorbell. As the sound of the chime died away, he heard the television go silent. Heavy footsteps moved toward the door, which was ripped open to reveal Patrick Marsh. His hair was sticking up all over the place and his eyes were red and bloodshot. Ronan knew the look of a hangover when he saw one.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Patrick snarled.
From his spot at the top of the stairs. Ronan had a clear view of Marsh. He didn’t appear to be armed, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a gun tucked into the back of his waistband or one strapped to his calf.
“We’re here to speak to you about the death of your wife.” Ronan kept his posture and demeanor calm and relaxed. He didn’t want to do anything that would spook the suspected killer.
“Mabel isn’t dead.” Marsh rolled his eyes and quickly winced in obvious pain. “She’s staying with her parents. I would have told you that if you’d just asked me.”
“We’re here to talk to you about Jillian,” Fitzgibbon said.
“No.” Marsh shook his head. “I don’t want to hear her name come out of your mouth again. Do you hear me?”
Fitzgibbon pulled his gold captain’s shield off his waistband and held it up for Marsh to see. “I’m Kevin Fitzgibbon, captain of the Salem Cold Case Unit, but you already knew that.”
“You’re a little out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you, captain ?” Marsh sneered.
Ronan knew this situation was starting to spiral out of control. “Why don’t we go inside and talk. You said a minute ago you would have told us about Mabel if we’d ask you, well, I’m asking now. No one’s heard your side of Jillian’s murder in ten years. You might have the clue that breaks this case wide open and allows us to catch her killer.”
Marsh raised a questioning eyebrow. “Come in. I’ll give you ten minutes, then you have to go. I’ve got an early afternoon tee time.”
Ronan had a feeling Marsh’s foursome was going to be playing without him. “After you,” Ronan insisted Marsh lead the way. He wasn’t about to let Patrick get the drop on him, especially where Ronan and the others were unarmed. Thankfully, there was no sign of a weapon tucked into Marsh’s waistband.
Stepping to his right, Marsh walked into the living room, which was surprisingly neat. There was a stack of hunting magazines on the coffee table along with a half-drunk bottle of Jack Daniels. He took a seat on the sofa and fixed Ronan with an impatient look.
Taking a seat on the edge of wingback chair to the right of the coffee table, Ronan took a minute to study Marsh. The man was definitely hungover, but didn’t seem to be nervous having a house filled with detectives and a psychic. Sociopaths were able to mask their emotions, so it wasn’t a surprise to Ronan that Marsh eyed him like he was a missionary, come to sell religion. “Tell me about Jillian.”
Marsh opened his mouth looking like he was ready to yell, but held back, as if he hadn’t been expecting that question. “Jillian was beautiful. She loved me in spite of myself and made me want to be a better person. I wasn’t, but she made me feel like I could be, if I put in a little effort.”
“My husband does the same for me and forgives all my missteps.” Ronan shot a genuine smile at his husband. Ten flashed one in return and quickly turned his attention back to Marsh.
“Jillian did the same thing, although I imagine she forgave a lot more than Tennyson will ever have to do. It’s no secret I cheated on her. I couldn’t help myself. Women came onto me and I freely took what they offered. I’m not even sure why. Jillian was always up for sex, but it was never the down and dirty kind, like I had with other women.” Marsh sighed, looking suddenly exhausted. “Anyway, we went to a party at her parents’ house on Christmas Eve. On the way home, Jillian told me she wanted a divorce. Said she had the paperwork ready to go and that she’d given me a generous settlement. I wasn’t completely surprised, she’d threatened divorce before, but I didn’t think she’d ever go so far as to have divorce papers drawn up. She showed them to me when we got home. I told her to sign them and leave them on the table for me. All I wanted to do was go to bed and try to figure out a way to save my marriage.” Tears leaked from Marsh’s eyes and he quickly batted them away.
Ronan didn’t think these were the words and emotions of a stone-cold killer, but he wasn’t going to stake his life on that. “You went up to bed and left Jillian alone downstairs?”
“Yeah,” Marsh agreed. “In past years, we’d sit on the living room floor in front of the tree and wrap presents together. We’d have a couple of drinks and the more we drank, the worse the wrapping got. Paper that didn’t cover the whole gift with gobs of tape trying to close the void.”
“When did you know something was wrong?”
“Like I said, all I wanted to do was go to sleep. I got undressed, brushed my teeth and got into bed. The next thing I knew, I was snapped awake by a noise. I wasn’t sure what had woken me up, but seconds I heard another noise. It was a gunshot. I assume now that the sound that woke me up was the door being kicked in.” Marsh sighed. His shoulders dropped. He looked defeated. “Anyway, I raced out of the bedroom and down the stairs to find the door kicked open and Jillian wounded on the living room floor. I grabbed her phone from the coffee table and dialed 911. I followed all the instructions they gave me to perform CPR and before I knew what was happening, the police and paramedics arrived. Everything is a blur after that.”
Taking a moment, Ronan reviewed everything Marsh said. “If you weren’t the one who killed Jillian, who did?”
“I can answer that question,” an unknown woman, pointing a large gun, said from the living room door. “It was me.”