9 Ronan

After two hours, Ronan had given up going through the obits in hopes of figuring out who the box of remains belonged to. There had to be another way to come at this problem, but in the meantime, he and the rest of the cold case team were sitting around the conference table reading a new case file when Fitzgibbon's phone rang for the third time that morning. It had been Greeley on the phone the previous times.

The newly-minted Boston Homicide Detective had been a bit out of sorts since he'd moved out of the house he'd shared with his former boyfriend and had come back to Salem, bunking, for the time being, with Fitzgibbon and Jace. He'd taken a few weeks off to get himself settled and seemed to be at loose ends with nothing to occupy his time now that Aurora was back in school.

"Hey, Cisco,"

Fitzgibbon said when he answered the call. He left the table and walked into his office, closing the door behind him.

"At least it's not Greeley again,"

Jude said.

"I was thinking the same thing,"

Ronan loved Greeley like the young man was his own son. He'd been through a lot in his young life and this breakup was just the latest thing to knock him back a step. "I wish there was something we could do to help get him back on his feet."

"It's been a long time since I've had to deal with a brokenhearted man."

Jude snorted. "I lost count of how many hearts I broke, back in the day."

"Oh, please."

Ronan rolled his eyes. "You're not God's gift to men, you know."

"Hell if I wasn't,"

Jude shot back.

"Change of plans, kids,"

Fitzgibbon said, hurrying out of his office. "We're setting the Houghton case aside for the time being."

"What are we doing instead?"

Ronan asked with a frisson of fear snaking around his heart. The last time Cisco pulled them off a case it was to make them work traffic duty for an afternoon.

"What the hell did you do this time?"

Jude asked, sounding annoyed.

"I didn't do anything the last time. Not really, anyway."

Ronan frowned. He may have told Cisco he was full of shit when the chief had offered his opinion on a case that was so cold it was in the deep freeze. Cisco hadn't minded a little spirited debate, but when Ronan told the chief he was the reason the case had gone cold in the first place, Cisco had responded by putting all three detectives on traffic duty, writing up tickets on expired parking meters and issuing citations for jaywalking. Ronan had learned his lesson the hard way and hadn't made the same mistake twice. At least he didn't think he had. There were a lot of times when his mouth overrode his common sense.

"Our change of plans has nothing to do with Ronan, this time ."

Fitzgibbon shot Ronan a wary look. "Cisco wants us to go see the nephew of that missing woman, Effy Lou Josephine."

Instantly relieved, Ronan turned his attention to the case at hand and realized he had never heard of this person. "Who's that?"

"Fucked if I know,"

Fitzgibbon said, shoving his phone into his back pocket. "Her nephew, Spencer Stephens, was on the news this morning begging for his aunt to be found and returned home. For some reason, the man called Channel Five instead of 911."

Fitz shook his head. "What the hell is wrong with people?"

Without waiting for an answer, he headed for the stairs.

Ronan followed along behind. "Does Cisco want Tennyson involved?"

He knew his husband had a dentist appointment that morning, but he should be back from that by now.

"Not yet,"

Fitz said. "He wants us to get the basics from this Spencer person and we'll go from there."

Fitz opened the shop door and held it open for Ronan and Jude.

"I hate to ask,"

Jude said, when they were settled in the SUV and pulling out into traffic, "but why are we being sent to interview this guy? Aren't there other detectives who are better suited to missing persons cases?"

"According to Cisco, this woman is in her early sixties. He has a feeling the outcome isn't going to be favorable for Effy Lou or her nephew. He wants us on the case because we have a way with people."

Ronan wasn't going argue on that point. He and Fitzgibbon had a combined fifty years of law enforcement experience. They'd each worked more than their share of missing person cases. Jude had done similar work as a private detective, taking over when the police couldn't make any headway. "What do we know about this woman aside from her age and the fact that she's named after a Cabbage Patch Kid."

"All we know was in the interview the nephew did with John Jameson,"

Fitz said.

"It has to be Jameson."

Ronan shook his head. The handsome journalist had made it clear on several occasions that he'd like to take Ronan's Mustang out for a spin, and he wasn't talking about the classic car.

"People trust him."

Jude flipped through his phone as he spoke. "If I had a story that I needed to bring to the media, he'd be the first person I'd call."

He paused for a few seconds. "Okay, here it is."

Tapping the phone, the video started to play.

John Jameson stood in front of a small, white, ranch-style house. "Early this morning, a call came into the Channel Five newsroom about a missing woman. That woman is Effy Lou Josephine, a long-time Salem resident. It was her great-nephew, Spencer, who reached out for our help."

The shot cut to a sobbing young man. "You have to find her,"

Spencer said through his tears. "Effy Lou means the world to me. We need to find her and bring her home where she belongs."

A picture of an elderly woman wearing a pink housecoat and cuddling a black kitten appeared on the screen. "She's the kindest woman I've ever known. I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't come home."

Several more pictures of the elderly woman flashed across the screen before cutting back to Jameson.

"If you or someone you know has seen Effy Lou Josephine, please reach out to the Salem Police Department. Reporting live from-"

Jude tapped his phone to cut off John Jameson's sign off.

"Shit, there's not a lot of information to go on."

Ronan felt his temper start to rise. "What the hell was Jameson thinking not calling the Salem Police? He didn't bother to ask when the last time Effy Lou was seen, what she was wearing, or anything else that could help lead to us finding her. Stupid prick,"

Ronan muttered under his breath.

"Let's not jump to conclusions. We'll see what the nephew has to say and we'll go from there."

Fitzgibbon climbed out of the SUV. Ronan and Jude followed.

Taking a look around the neighborhood, Ronan thought it looked familiar. Everly had been invited to several birthday parties over the summer. He assumed one of those kids lived around here. When Fitzgibbon knocked on the front door, Ronan pulled out his badge and slung it around his neck.

A sullen-looking young man answered the door. Ronan recognized Spencer Stephens instantly. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties and was dressed in the same concert tee and jeans he'd worn in the television interview. "Please tell me you found her."

"Not yet,"

Fitzgibbon said. "Are you Spencer?"

"I am. Are you here to help me find my Aunt?"

Fitzgibbon nodded. "I'm Captain Kevin Fitzgibbon from the Cold Case Unit of the Salem Police Department."

"Cold case?"

Spencer shrieked. "Are you here because you think I killed my aunt?"

The color drained from the young man's face. He looked as if he were on the verge of fainting. Fitzgibbon reached out and caught Spencer before he fell.

"Let's get you inside and then we can talk."

Fitzgibbon maneuvered the man into the house and led him to a sofa in a cluttered living room. "These are detectives O'Mara and Byrne,"

he said motioning to Ronan and Jude, who taken seat in arm chairs on the other side of the coffee table. "We're here to see how we can help you find your missing aunt."

"I'm just beside myself,"

Spencer said.

"What was your aunt wearing the last time you saw her?"

Ronan asked, pulling out his notebook and clicking his pen.

Spencer shot him a confused look. "I think she had on a pink sweater and jeans that were three sizes too big. Aunt Effy Lou loved to shop at Goodwill. I don't understand how this information will help us find her."

It was Ronan's turn to feel surprised. "Now that we know what she was wearing, we can send out a be on the lookout bulletin to other police agencies and to the media."

"How is knowing what my aunt was wearing the last time I saw her going to help you find her? Aunt Effy Lou died six weeks ago."

Spencer shook his head, as if he thought Ronan had a screw loose.

"She died six weeks ago?"

Jude repeated, looking as stunned as he sounded.

This explained why John Jameson hadn't called the Salem Police Department about Effy Lou's disappearance. "There was no mention of this in the news interview."

He looked at Fitzgibbon, whose attention was firmly fixed on the young man.

Spencer shrugged. "I haven't seen it. I told the reporter exactly what happened. It's not my fault the TV station left out the most important piece of information. Anyway, I've been too busy dealing with all sorts of calls and messages about Aunt Effy Lou to have been watching television."

"Why don't you tell us the story from the beginning, to avoid any more confusion,"

Fitzgibbon absently ran a hand through his hair.

"Aunt Effy Lou was my mother's aunt. When my mother passed five years ago in a car crash, I became my aunt's sole beneficiary."

"You mean you were her only living heir?"

Ronan asked, feeling annoyed that this man saw his aunt as means to an end, rather than a treasured family member.

"Yeah, that too."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Effy Lou's husband left her a boatload of money when he died a few years ago and she was bound and determined to spend every last penny, never once thinking how her reckless spending would affect me."

"Affect you?"

Jude asked, looking as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Right,"

Spencer agreed. "There was a reason Uncle Mort was such a cheapskate and it wasn't so that Effy Lou could waste all his hard earned money on cruises to the Caribbean and the cruise ship slot machines."

"What was the reason?"

Ronan asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"To set me up for life, duh,"

Spencer said.

Ronan couldn't believe what Spencer was saying. He got up from his chair, wanting nothing more than to storm out of the house, but knew there was one last question he had to ask. "Was Effy Lou cremated?"

"Yeah,"

Spencer agreed. "Her remains were in a black box. I was gonna dump them in the harbor, but then she vanished without a trace."

Fitzgibbon raised a hand, as if he wanted to be called on by a school teacher. "Have you been cleaning out this house?"

"Yeah, I've been getting rid of all of Effy Lou's shit. Pictures, knick-knacks, lace thingamajigs, you know, all the old lady stuff. I must have put the box out with all the other junk. I can't sell the house with it looking like a bomb went off in here."

Spencer held his arms out, as if to point out the state of the house.

"Can you describe the box your aunt's remains were in?"

Ronan asked, having a very bad feeling Aunt Effy Lou was sitting in a locked cabinet back at West Side Magick.

"Yeah, it was black plastic, with a latch at the top and an airplane sticker on it."

"Was there a label affixed to it with Effy Lou's name, address and the funeral home that performed the cremation?"

"Uh, huh. I ripped it off though. Seemed pretty useless to me."

Spencer shrugged as if he couldn't care less.

Ronan pulled out his phone and found the pictures he'd taken of the box. "Is this it?"

"Looks like it. Where'd you get that picture?"

Spencer asked, sounding mildly interested in the answer.

"A neighbor found the box out with your trash and she took it, hoping to reunite it with the next of kin, but soon after she took it, she forgot which house it came from."

"A neighbor stole Aunt Effy Lou? Can I sue her ass?"

Spencer's eyes glowed with delight. "Shit, that would be more money for me and my Florida dream house with a killer game system and all the booze me and my bitches could drink."

"Bitches?"

Ronan asked, feeling pretty sure Spencer was still a virgin. Who would be stupid enough to sleep with this ridiculous man-child?

"Yeah, bitches love money and I'll have a shit-ton of it, once I find Effy Lou's will."

Spencer scratched his head.

"One last question, that I have a feeling I'm going to regret asking,"

Jude began. "If you're just here for the money, why did you go on television with a public appeal to find your aunt's remains?"

Spencer rolled his eyes, looking as if he thought Jude was as dumb as a box of rocks. "Because I need to prove to Effy Lou's attorney that she's actually dead. Then I can get my money and sell this house."

Ronan couldn't believe Spencer was actually this stupid. He prayed this guy would never reproduce. "How are you going to use her remains to prove they're Aunt Effy Lou's? I mean, they could be anyone's ashes, what with you taking the label off the box."

"Dude, I don't know."

Spencer sounded annoyed with all the questions. "Where's my aunt? I need to bring her with me when I find the will."

"Your neighbor brought the remains to my husband at West Side Magick. You can pick up the box there."

"West Side Magick? What the fuck is that? A kiddie magician shop?"

Spencer snorted. "Was your husband going to saw her in half? Make her disappear into a flock of doves?"

"It's a psychic shop, dumbass,"

Jude said. "The neighbor thought Tennyson would be able to connect with the spirit of the remains so they could be retuned to the next of kin."

"Yeah, well if that fucking busybody had minded her own damn business then I wouldn't be in this mess."

"No, you'd have a bigger mess on your hands after the trashmen picked up the box and brought it to the landfill."

Fitzgibbon stood up. "Come to West Side Magick. Ask for Tennyson Grimm, show your ID, and your aunt's remains will be returned to you."

The captain headed for the front door with Ronan and Jude right behind him.

"Wait!"

Spencer called, "can't you guys just deliver the box to me?"

"We're the police, not pizza delivery drivers, asshole,"

Ronan said, anxious to get out of the house. Spencer's lack of empathy was only rivaled by his stupidity.

"Can you believe that fucking guy?"

Jude asked, when they were back in Fitzgibbon's SUV.

"I don't know what's worse, accidentally leaving Aunt Effy Lou's ashes out for trash day or thinking that he needed to bring her with him to get his inheritance."

Ronan shook his head.

"I don't want to think about what he would have done if Effy Lou had been buried,"

Jude said with a snicker. "I can see him in the cemetery trying to dig up the casket. How has he never heard of a death certificate?"

"Because his three working brain cells were focused on booze and bitches,"

Ronan muttered, pulling out his phone to text Tennyson. His husband was never going to believe that they'd discovered a name to go with the remains and that Aunt Effy Lou's nephew was a nothing but a greedy blockhead.