7 Ronan

It had been Ronan’s plan to talk to his former partner after dinner, but Tennyson had boxed him into a corner of sorts. Not that it mattered, the conversation topic wasn’t going to change no matter when they talked about it. Now that Jude had joined them, he supposed there was no time like the present.

“What’s this about a case? You boys stuck?” Shane asked.

“Sort of,” Fitz said. “I mean, all of our cases are cold ones, so technically, we’re stuck on all of them in the beginning.”

“How can I help?”

Ronan picked up the story. “A woman was murdered on Christmas morning ten years ago. There appeared to be a home invasion in which the woman was shot and killed. Her husband said he was upstairs sleeping when the attack happened and was awoken by the gun shot. He performed CPR on his wife before police and medics arrived on the scene, so he was covered in her blood. There was no way distinguishing the tell-tale signs of high-velocity splatter from the blood he’d gotten on his shirt.”

“There were also no signs of the scene being staged,” Jude continued. “There was a boot print found on the door that was kicked in. It didn’t match any of the shoes found in the house. There was also broken glass, but it was inside the house, as if it had been broken from the outside, which is also indicative of a break-in.”

“Sounds like a murder for hire.”

Fitz nodded. “That’s what the Salem detectives thought at the time. They weren’t able to find any financial information that tied the husband or her parents to the crime. After a few months, the case went cold and there have been no new leads in the decade since the murder.”

“Okay, so where do I come into the picture? I’m happily situated here in Florida and going back up north in January isn’t something I’d want to do, even for old friends.”

“That’s the beauty of this case, the husband lives here in St. Pete,” Ronan said. “Unbeknownst to Jude and I, Fitz started to work on this case a few months back. We were supposed to come down here for turkey day, but plans changed so we came for Christmas instead.”

“I was going to talk to the husband while we were down here, but just the idea of working over Christmas is making our husbands crazy,” Fitz said.

“In a coincidence almost too good to be true, Ten’s brother works with this guy. He’s a landscaper.” Ronan couldn’t believe their luck in this regard.

The former detective narrowed his eyes. “You’re not talking about Patrick Marsh, are you?” Shane asked.

“Do you know him?” Ronan asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I know him professionally. My profession, not his. A few years back, I was hired by a client who thought her fiancé was fucking around on her, turns out the fiancé was Patrick Marsh, who, at that time, had been married to his current wife for about three years. Before I started the surveillance on him, I did a background check and saw that his first wife had been murdered. I also found out through some PI friends of mine that this wasn’t the first time one of Patrick’s lovers had used a PI to see if the SOB was cheating. The short answer is yes.”

“Okay, so you’re already familiar with him.” Jude wore a shit-eating grin.

“I am, but that’s not the best part of this story.”

“What is?” Ronan asked. He felt his entire body tingle with anticipation. Shane had something good to share. Ronan couldn’t wait to hear what it was and then use it to nail this murdering cheater to the wall.

“I’m currently doing work for another member of the Marsh family, but since it’s an ongoing investigation for which I haven’t been fully paid, I should probably refrain from sharing the name of my client.”

Fitz snorted. “Is it the wife? Blink once for yes. Twice for no.”

Ronan leaned forward, hoping to get a look at Shane’s reaction. He blinked once. “Holy shit!” Ronan let out a low whistle. “Does she suspect him of cheating on her?”

Shane shook his head. “No, she thinks he’s poisoning her.”

“What?” Jude gasped. “Is it true? Has she gone in for heavy metal testing?”

“I sent her to a doctor closer to Sarasota, about forty-five minutes from here. The bloodwork was done yesterday, but we don’t have the results yet. With it being Christmas week, I suspect it’s going to take a bit longer than it would any other time of the year.”

Ronan had a feeling that would be the case as well. “We thought you would be great to work on this case for several reasons, one that you’re a former detective and two because Marsh and his wife are invited to my brother-in-law’s Christmas Eve party.”

Shane’s eyes lit up. “If I’m working the surveillance angle, that gives you an opportunity to talk to Marsh as just party guests, rather than detectives. Smart, Ronan, very smart.”

“Well, I did learn from the best.”

“Thank you,” Fitzgibbon and Shane said together.

“If you’re interested in pitching in on this case, I’ll have a contract for you to sign so that we can get you paid as a consultant,” Fitz said. “It’s what I used to do with Tennyson and Jude when they worked on cases with us.”

“No offense to Ronan, but is Tennyson the real deal?” Shane asked.

Ronan snickered.

“Not only is Ten the real deal, Jude’s husband Cope is too.”

Ronan was thankful Fitzgibbon had left Everly out of the equation. “I used to think what Ten said he could do was bullshit, then he found Michael Frye’s remains and his killer. The BPD had been working on that case for years and didn’t have so much as a single lead, Ten cracked it in two weeks.”

“Explain that to me. Was he able to uncover clues that all of you missed or what?”

“He spoke to Michael’s spirit. The boy’s ghost was able to lead us to where his body had been hidden and was also able to help us identify his killer with information he was able to provide about the man who’d kidnapped him.”

“No kidding,” Shane said, sounding amazed.

“If there’s any deceased member of your family you’d like to reconnect with, let Ten know. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to make that happen.”

“He can really do that?” Shane sounded as if he still didn’t believe Ten’s gift was genuine.

“I’ve been able to speak to my mother several times, and she passed away during my first year with the Boston Police.”

“Interesting, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Hey, guys?” Ten poked his head into the kitchen. “I’m no Bobby Flay, but I think these chickens are done.”

“To be continued.” Ronan got out of his seat. “Let’s meet tomorrow to finalize our plan. We won’t talk business over dinner.” Ronan knew if they did, he, Jude and Fitz would be sleeping on the beach with the other crabs.