Dead To Me (Cold Case Psychic Book 5) Read online

  Tears dripped from Kaye’s perfectly made up eyes. Her mascara ran down her ruddy cheeks, but she made no move to wipe the tears away. “I always knew somehow that you’d be back here to ruin my life.”

  Ronan got up from the table and walked into the kitchen.

  Tennyson sat at the table in shock as he listened to his fiancé rummage first through fridge and then through the cabinets.

  “Your husband’s been dead for two days, Kaye, and there’s barely any food in the house. I see two casserole dishes that concerned neighbors have dropped off to you to keep you going in your time of need. Where are all of your friends? Your congregation?” Ronan strode over to the table and sat back down.

  Kaye didn’t look at him.

  “Hey!” Ronan slapped a hand down on the table, making everything on it jump. Kaye’s bloodshot eyes jumped to him. “By the looks of things, we’re all you’ve got here. Do you even know how to drive? Have you started planning his funeral yet? Do you know if David took care of you financially? Is the house even yours or did he leave it to your church?”

  Kaye’s eyes popped wide open at that question.

  “See, you don’t even know, do you?” Ronan stood up and pulled out his wallet. He took out one of his business cards and set it down on the table in front of her. “My cell number is on here. When you decide to get off your high horse and ask for help, I’ll answer your call. If not, Tennyson and I will take care of your husband’s funeral arrangements ourselves.” Ronan looked at Tennyson. “You hungry, babe? I could use some lunch.” Ronan grinned at his lover.

  “I’m starved and tired from the plane flight.” Ten held his hand up to Ronan. He couldn’t resist being dramatic.

  “We’re going to grab lunch at that lovely little café downtown and then we need to find a place to stay for the night. If you need anything or decide to help us plan David’s funeral. You know how to reach out to us.” Ronan dragged Tennyson toward the front door, before pausing. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Kaye.” With that, Ronan walked Tennyson out the front door.

  6

  Tennyson

  Tennyson was quiet as Ronan drove back toward Main Street. Even though he’d given his mother a piece of his mind, there was no joy in it for him. He’d seen genuine fear in her eyes when Ronan was asking her questions about the house and if David had provided for her future.

  “We’re here,” Ronan said as he shut the rented Ford off. “You okay?”

  Ten shrugged. “Let’s talk over lunch. I’m starving.”

  Ronan leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You got it.”

  Ten hopped out of the truck and looked up the Main Street Café sign. It was white with black calligraphy. It looked like a nice place to have lunch and figure out what their next step would be.

  “Ready?” Ronan grabbed his hand and led Ten to the door, which he opened for him.

  When they walked in hand in hand, Ten couldn’t help but notice everyone in the place stopping to look at them. “Have a seat anywhere. Someone will be right with you, honey,” a harried looking waitress called out as she walked past with a tray of sandwiches.

  Ronan led them to a booth in the middle of the place and took the seat facing the door. He grabbed two of the plastic-cased menus and handed one to Ten.

  Instead of reading his, Ten was looking at all of the faces in the café. Thirteen years was a long time to be away from a town, but he figured he should be able to recognize someone here, shouldn’t he?

  “Hey, boys, I’m Pamela, can I start you off with something to drink?” Pamela was blond with blue eyes and was wearing a white and black café tee-shirt that matched the sign out front, and a pair of tight fitting black jeans. She looked like she was about nineteen years old.

  “We’ll both have sweetened iced tea, please.” Ronan answered.

  “Cat got his tongue?” Pamela hooked her thumb at Tennyson.

  Ronan shook his head. “We just flew in from out of town for a funeral and he’s dead tired.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, sugar. Is the person someone from Union Chapel?” She batted her eyes at Tennyson.

  Ten had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Pamela had obviously missed them holding hands with each other when they’d walked in the door. “David Grimm. Do you know him?” Tennyson wasn’t ready to spill the beans just yet about David being his father.

  “Oh sure! I know David. He and his lovely wife, Kaye, are regulars here. Come in a couple times a week for lunch and on Friday nights for dinner. He was always a big tipper. I’m so sorry that he died.” Pamela looked sorrier to lose the regular tips than she was that David was dead. “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

  “His lovely wife?” Ronan shook his head in seeming disbelief.

  “When you’re straight, I’m sure my mother is quite lovely to be around.” Ten shrugged and picked up his menu. He wasn’t much interested anymore in who was in the café. He just wanted to eat and find a place to lay his weary head.

  “Here we are guys, two sweetened teas.” Pamela set the drinks down and gave them straws. “Any idea what you’d like to eat?”

  “I’d like the turkey avocado club and the broccoli cheese soup.” Ronan offered the waitress a smile.

  “I’ll have the same thing.” There was no use reading through the menu. What Ronan was getting was fine with him.

  “Pamela, are there any hotels or Bed and Breakfasts here in Union Chapel? We booked our flight here last minute and didn’t have a chance to book a room before the flight left Boston.” Ronan offered the waitress another charming smile.

  “Don’t you mean rooms?” She offered Ronan a wicked grin.

  “No, honey, he meant room.” Tennyson flashed his engagement ring at the presumptuous bitch.

  Pamela looked back and forth between Tennyson and Ronan for a few seconds before what Tennyson said seemed to sink in. “Oh,” she said, taking a step back. “I think there’s a Best Western over in Denton, but you might want to call ahead. I don’t think they like your kind over there.”

  “What kind would that be, Pamela? Paying customers?” Ronan’s sunny look darkened. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his badge which he held up for her to see. “I’m Detective Ronan O’Mara of the Boston Police Department. Is there going to be a problem with my kind getting prompt, courteous service, ma’am?”

  “Is there a problem here?” a gentleman dressed dark jeans and café tee-shirt asked. “I’m Cal Farmer, I’m the owner.”

  “Cal Farmer?” Ten asked. “From the class of ’05?”

  “Do I know you?” Cal asked curious.

  “Tennyson Grimm.” Ten smiled at his old high school classmate. He had no idea Cal was the kind of man who would stay in Union Chapel or the kind of man who liked to cook.

  “Tennyson! I can’t believe it’s really you! I heard a rumor you were in town and with a handsome man to boot.” Cal winked at Ronan.

  Ten’s gaydar was sending out a red alert. He had no idea back in high school that Cal Farmer was just like him. Damn, that would have been good information to have back then. “It’s me all right. This is my fiancé, Ronan O’Mara.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ronan.” Cal shook his hand. “Pamela, put their orders in and put them on my account, please.” He watched her walk away before sitting down in the booth next to Tennyson. “I swear, that girl is pretty enough to look at if you’re into that sort of thing, but her soul is blacker that a West Virginia coal mine.”

  Ronan burst out laughing. “Well, it’s nice to see that we’ve got family here in the great state of Kansas. I was worried that it was going to be me and Ten against the whole damn town.”

  “We aren’t as freewheeling as you guys are back in New England but we aren’t hiding out at the one gay club in Kansas City anymore, either.” Cal grinned at Tennyson.

  “There’s a gay club in KC?” Ten’s mouth dropped open.

  “Honey, there’s a shitload of them now, but back when we gradu
ated from high school, there was just one, The Trojan Horse, over on 16th Street. Cowboy up!”

  Ten couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh. “How long have you known?” He pitched his voice low.

  “What? That I was a butt pirate? Since I was about thirteen. I was smart enough to wait to come out though until I graduated from Kansas State with all of my tuition paid in full. My mama didn’t raise no fool. I didn’t want to end up like you…” Cal gasped and quickly slapped both hands over his mouth.

  “How do you mean, you didn’t want to end up like me?” This should be good. Ten focused all of his attention on Cal.

  “Well,” Cal yanked at the white collar of his tee-shirt as if it were suddenly cutting off his oxygen. “Your mother told everyone you were off to conquer the world, that Union Chapel was just too small for you, but I knew the real reason you left on that bus and that it wasn’t your idea to leave.”

  “Tell me what you mean.” Ronan’s tone brooked no argument.

  Cal turned to Ronan. “I knew Tennyson was gay, just like me. I was so scared about what would happen if I told him about me that I kept my mouth shut and stayed in the closet. After I finally came out and word got out around town about what I really was, Kaye started treating me differently. She started turning her nose up at me, wouldn’t say hello when we met at Ruth’s Market or at church. I knew that if she was treating me that way, then she and David put you on that bus out of town on graduation day.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Ronan muttered under his breath.

  “I mean, she and David have been good customers of mine over the years, but I’m not shedding a tear over your father’s death, if you’ll excuse my saying so, Tennyson.” Cal looked around the café before turning back to Tennyson. “I think you’ll find other people in town who feel the same way I do about their attitudes.”

  Ronan nodded. “David’s been dead for two days and the Baptist casserole brigade hasn’t paid a visit yet. All I saw were a couple of dishes from Kaye’s friends.”

  “What does that tell you?” Cal shrugged. “Usually people in small towns bring by dishes to be neighborly or to get the latest gossip. People around Union Chapel aren’t even interested in that with Kaye anymore. Although I suppose Butch and Sundance showing up might bring out a token tuna casserole or two.” Cal’s green eyes sparkled.

  “Butch and Sundance?” Ronan snorted.

  “I get to be Butch.” Tennyson pointed at himself.

  “The hell you do, Sundance!” Ronan laughed.

  “Damn,” Cal sighed. “The two of you make one hell of a pair.”

  “We’ve been through a lot together.” Ronan pulled down the collar of his battered Celtics tee to show off the three puckered bullet holes in his chest.

  “Holy shit, Tennyson! You shot your fiancé?” Cal’s eyes were so wide, they were practically popping out of their head. “I mean, I heard that Boston was a tough city, but man, I had no idea it was that tough!”

  Ten rolled his eyes heavenward. “Jesus, Cal! I didn’t shoot Ronan! Although there are days when he sorely tries my patience.”

  “Thanks, Petunia. A serial killer did this to me back in August. Ten’s been there by my side for every step of my recovery.” Ronan beamed at Ten from across the table.

  “Wow, I can’t even get a man to stay by my side until the sun comes up.” Cal threw his hand up with a flourish.

  Tennyson had no witty comeback for that, aside from suggesting handcuffs and he knew that was wildly inappropriate. Besides, Ronan had left his at home. “We need a place to stay while we’re in town. Pamela mention the Best Western in Denton. Is it any good?”

  Cal rolled his eyes dramatically. “Only if you want a raging case of gonorrhea or some heroin.”

  Ronan snorted and started to laugh. “Pass on both. Thanks, for the kind offer though.”

  “That goes double for me,” Ten chimed in.

  “Try the Inn at Hawthorne Lake. It’s over in Fairmont Springs, about half an hour out of Union Chapel. You’ll be able to share a room without word of it getting back to people here. Plus, it’s a gorgeous old mansion. You’ll both love it there.”

  “Oh, it is gorgeous!” Ronan turned his phone around to show Ten.

  “Wow!” It was a red brick building with four white marble Doric columns gracing the façade. “I love it. Book it!”

  “Does it matter which room?” Ronan looked pretty excited too.

  “Which ever one has the best view and the biggest bed!” Ten waggled his eyebrows at Ronan.

  “Here are your lunches.” Pamela set the soup and sandwiches down in front of Tennyson and Ronan. Tennyson’s soup bowl bounced and some of the soup puddled in the saucer.

  “Pamela,” Cal warned in a low voice.

  “I’m sorry, Cal, but these two are those kinds of people. I didn’t want to get too close.”

  “What kinds of people would that be?” Cal stood up from the booth, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Well, they’re together.” Her brows furrowed when her boss didn’t seem to be catching on.

  “Yes, I can see they’re sitting in the booth together. What does that have to do with your awful customer service?”

  “They’re a couple,” she deadpanned, as if that explained it all.

  “Oh!” Cal slapped a hand against his forehead. “You mean they’re gay, right? And you think it’s okay to give gay customers subpar service in my restaurant? Did I ever tell you I’m gay, Pamela? Hmm, no, I didn’t, because I know what a rude Bible thumping bitch your mother is and she raised you with her homophobic views. So, as far as I see it, you’ve got two choices here, apologize to my friends for you appalling behavior or hand in your apron.”

  The waitress’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out.

  Tennyson almost felt bad for the young girl. Almost. From what little he’d seen of Union Chapel there didn’t seem to be a lot of jobs around here for someone of her age and limited skill set. It was either this or the McDonalds he’d worked at when he was a teenager.

  “I’m sorry I was so rude.” Pamela ducked her head.

  “Good choice. Now get back to work.” Cal waved her away with his right hand before turning back to Tennyson and Ronan. “Guess I’m going to need to hold a class in sensitivity training.” Cal rolled his eyes. “Enjoy your lunch and let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you while you’re in town.”

  “Cal,” Ten said, “if it’s not too much to ask, can you come to the funeral? I’d hate for it to be just me, Ronan, Kaye, and the coffin.”

  Cal frowned. “It is asking too much, but I’ll be there. I’ll see who else I can round up too. Are you gonna publish the notice in the UC Bugle?”

  Ten nodded. “I’m sure the funeral home will know all about getting obituary and funeral notices in the town paper.”

  “I’m sure they will. If that’s all, I’ll let the two of you eat.” Cal turned to walk away.

  “Uh, Cal? One more thing?” Ronan pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Do y’all deliver?”

  “Jesus, Ronan! This is Kansas, not Texas.”

  “Same difference, right? We’re close to Texas, aren’t we?” Ronan looked confused.

  “Sure, man. Texas is only a seven-hour drive south of here.” Cal bit his lip in an obvious attempt to keep from laughing. “Anyway, we don’t deliver as a general rule, but I have been known to make an exception from time to time under the right circumstance. What did you have in mind?”

  Ronan pulled two crisp twenty dollar bills out of his wallet. “Send over Kaye Grimm’s usual lunch order and Friday night supper. All she had in the refrigerator aside from two questionable casseroles, was bottled water and ketchup.”

  “So, you want me to be the tuna casserole brigade?” Cal asked, sounding skeptical.

  Ronan nodded. “It has to start somewhere. Make Pamela deliver it. That can be her penance. Although after what I just saw, those two will get on like a house on fire.”


  7

  Ronan

  The thirty-minute ride out to the Inn at Hawthorne Lake was a balm on Ronan’s soul. He hadn’t been sure how this trip was going to go once he had a chance to meet Kaye, but now he was certain he and Tennyson were doing the right thing by being here, even if their welcome hadn’t been a warm one.

  “That was really nice, what you did back there,” Ten said, resting his head on Ronan’s shoulder, just like he did when they were driving around in the Mustang back home.

  “What, making sure your mother didn’t starve to death?” Ronan pressed a kiss to Ten’s head.

  “Yeah, I guess you could say I wasn’t feeling as charitable toward the old trout as you were.” Ten picked his head up as Ronan pulled into a parking spot in front of the inn.

  Ronan stared up at the large Georgian-style brick mansion. It was impressive to look at. “Why don’t we check in and get settled, okay? Maybe grab a nap and then we can talk about your mother and Cal and everything else that happened. We also need to check in with Fitzgibbon and Greeley to see how they are and how Dixie’s doing without both of us.”

  “That sounds like a plan. Do you think the people here are gonna give us shit about there being two men and one bed?” Ten’s voice sounded small.

  “As long as you’re spending the night curled up in my arms, Ten, I couldn’t give a fuck what these narrow-minded peckerwoods think about who sleeps where.”

  Tennyson started to laugh. “Again, Ronan, this is Kansas, not Georgia. We don’t have peckerwoods here. Just religious bigots.”

  “Fine, then I don’t give a fuck what narrow-minded religious bigots think about who sleeps where.” Ronan winked at him. “Happy now?” Without waiting for an answer, Ronan hopped out of the rented truck and grabbed their luggage out of the back seat of the Ford.

  As Ronan tugged his suitcase behind him, he couldn’t help but stare up at the three-story soaring façade of the building. “This is a hell of a place, huh?”

  Ten nodded. He held the front door open for Ronan. He was only carrying their garment bag and their rolling carry-on, while Ronan was lugging their giant suitcase.