Dead to the World (Cold Case Psychic Book 10) Page 6

  “Those are good questions. We’ve both read all of the parenting books.” Ten thought back to the days when they’d read passages aloud to each other and discussed how they’d do things differently from the so-called experts.

  Ronan snorted. “None of them agree on what to do.”

  “I think it will be a matter of going with our instincts.” They’d never disagreed on how to handle the scenarios outlined in the books. They’d always been on the same team. Tennyson and Ronan. How much longer would that last?

  “My instincts tell me to protect my family no matter what.” Ronan looked determined.

  Ten sighed. “Are we in any danger, Ronan?” Tennyson remembered what it was like having bodyguard Faulkner Hayes living with them and posing as a psychic at West Side Magick to keep him safe when Ronan was working. He didn’t know if he had the strength to go through that again.

  “I don’t know. That FBI agent didn’t mention anything about it, but I supposed he wouldn’t.” Ronan shook his head in obvious frustration.

  “What do you mean?” Ten had a feeling he already knew the answer.

  “The feds want to nail Dragonni for the crimes he committed in the past. All they want me to do is testify about the guns. They could give a fuck less that Tony is dead or that they are putting my life on the line by asking me to testify against him.

  Popping up from the floor, Ten held a hand out to Ronan. “We can talk about this, but I don’t want to do it here in Everly’s room. That peace I felt in here earlier is starting to ebb away.” Ten wrapped his arms around himself. Not only was the peace of the room ebbing, his own guilt was flowing back in to replace the tranquility.

  Ten hadn’t been aware that Ronan would have to testify as well as Tony. He’d assumed that Tony would be all that would be required to nail Dragonni’s ass to the wall. He’d been wrong. He should have known his family’s involvement in this case would go beyond the secret he’d been forced to keep for the last five months. The more evidence the better. Hadn’t Ronan and Fitzgibbon both said that to him in the past?

  “It’s okay, Ten.” Ronan wrapped his arms around his husband. “I’m going to go in there and testify to what I know about that night with Tony and Dragonni. Then we’re done. We’re out of this whole thing. I’ll go back to working on the cases I’ve got in progress in the office before I hand what’s left back to Fitzgibbon and start my paternity leave. After that, it’s just me, you, and our little miss. All I want is to spend time with the two of you, Ten. Spending lazy mornings together. Doing mountains of tiny laundry. Changing diapers. Singing songs. Taking naps.”

  Ten snorted. “You’re going to do mountains of laundry and sing songs? You hate laundry and I’ve heard you sing.”

  “I hate doing my laundry. I’ll love doing Everly’s laundry. And so what if I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. She’ll love that her Daddy Ronan sings to her.” Ronan grinned down at Ten.

  “You’re right. She will love that you sing to her. Spending time as a family will be amazing.” Ten rested his face against Ronan’s heart. He prayed again that everything Ronan talked about would come true and that he wouldn’t be on the outside looking in.

  Tennyson’s entire future was riding on Ronan’s ability to forgive and be able to see past his lie as to why Tennyson had to do what he did. Ronan’s number one priority was to protect his family. Ten could only hope that his husband could see that was his number one priority as well.

  11

  Ronan

  Ronan’s heart had been thundering in his chest all day long. He knew Clemente and the federal prosecutor would be dropping by to prep him for his testimony, but he had no idea when that would be.

  Security was so high around the Dragonni trial that he hadn’t even been told what the prosecutor’s name was, never mind having been given a number to contact him or her with. Ronan was so edgy that he hadn’t eaten all day. He’d gotten by on coffee and clock watching. At half past three, there wasn’t much time left to go in the day.

  “Ronan?”

  He jumped a mile, barely suppressing a squeak as he turned around to see Fitzgibbon standing behind him. “Cap.” Ronan jumped out of his seat.

  “Come with me. Jesus Christ, I’ve never seen you jumpier in my life.” Fitzgibbon led Ronan out of the unit and toward the elevator bank.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Seventh floor, back conference room.” Fitzgibbon looked behind them. “I don’t like this cloak and dagger shit.”

  “Join the club,” Ronan agreed.

  “I was asked to bring you here, but only so far. Apparently being a thirty-year veteran of the BPD doesn’t earn me any trust either.”

  “Shit, they’re not going to blindfold me, are they?” That would be the last straw for Ronan. Not that he could do anything to stop the feds.

  “I don’t think so, Ronan.” Fitzgibbon shook his head.

  “Cap, Ten is scared. He asked if we were in any danger last night. I told him I didn’t know. These feds are doing everything they can to protect this case, but it doesn’t seem like they’re protecting the people involved in it. They should know better after what happened with Dragonni when he was let out of jail.” Three murders, one attempted murder, and the night that their hotel suite had been compromised and men with machine guns had started shooting the place up.

  “Do you want protection? I’m not sure I can make that happen, but I’ll see what I can do. What with the baby coming in a few weeks the timing of this couldn’t be worse.” Kevin shook his head.

  Ronan had been thinking the same thing. The timing couldn’t be worse. The elevator pinged and opened on two suited men. Federal agents, unless Ronan missed his guess.

  “Please come with us, Detective O’Mara,” the shorter of the two men directed.

  “You’ll need to turn your phone and weapon over to your captain,” the taller of the two agents ordered.

  Nodding, Ronan did as the agent asked. “Call Tennyson. Let him know I’m working late.”

  “You got it.” Fitzgibbon took Ronan’s things and disappeared as the elevator doors closed.

  “This way.” The taller of the two agents led Ronan down the hall.

  Ronan had never been to the seventh floor before. It was vacant, but for several conference rooms usually reserved for large meetings for bigwigs.

  Both agents stopped in front of the room Fitzgibbon had told him about. The shorter man rapped on the door and opened it without waiting for a response from within.

  “Go on in, Detective O’Mara.”

  Ronan did as he was asked without saying a word. When he stepped into the room, he saw Cruz Clemente, the FBI Agent who’d visited his house the other night, as well as a woman he’d never seen before.

  “Ronan, thank you for joining us, this is Lauren Dawes, she’s the federal prosecutor on the Dragonni case.”

  Stepping over to the impeccably dressed woman, Ronan held out his hand to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “That’s bullshit and we both know it, Detective O’Mara.” She released Ronan’s hand and sat back down.

  “Okay then.” Ronan took a seat across from them both. “You’re right, it is bullshit, finding out at the eleventh hour that I was a material witness in a case I wasn’t even aware was going to trial. That’s not even the worst part of this whole thing.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what is the worst part.” Dawes sat back in her seat, looking none too pleased at the fact that her witness had taken control of the conversation right off the bat.

  “Both my husband and I were placed in protective custody thanks to Vito Dragonni’s hit list over the summer. Thanks to a member of the BPD who was bribed, Dragonni found out where we were being kept and as a result, my former partner was murdered. Now, I’m being called to testify against this same man with no protection in place for me, my husband, or our surrogate, who is six weeks away from delivering our baby girl. Yet, here the two of you are playing cloak and fuckin
g dagger with so much security around both of you that you’re skulking around in the middle of the night ringing doorbells,” Ronan pointed to Clemente, “and no one knows your name.” He pointed to Dawes.

  “Are you finished playing drama queen?” Dawes asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Ronan felt his blood starting to boil. Was he finished? He wasn’t even getting warmed up. He felt his nostrils flare, but somehow managed to keep his temper in check.

  “There is the utmost security around this trial and the witnesses being called to testify. If we thought there was a need to put you and your family into PC, we would have done it already, detective. All you’re going to be asked to do is testify to what you saw and heard the night Tony Abruzzi confessed to having worked undercover for the Dragonni crime family.” She grabbed her pen and pulled her legal pad closer to her.

  “You mean the night Tony Abruzzi was murdered by Vito Dragonni, Ms. Dawes?” Ronan hated the way this slick bitch was trying to gloss over what happened to Tony.

  “That outcome has no bearing on this trial.”

  “No bearing on this trial?” Ronan could feel his control slipping away. “Tony is dead and that has no bearing on this trial?”

  “I can see how upset you are over the loss of your friend and former partner, detective,” Cruz Clemente began. “Your testimony will be crucial in putting Vito Dragonni behind bars for the rest of his life.”

  “You know what, Clemente? Tony and I did that the first time around. Dragonni was convicted on three counts of first-degree murder and was sentenced to three life terms with no possibility of parole. Our evidence was ironclad. We followed every rule of Massachusetts evidence and procedure. We did everything right and somehow, Dragonni’s people got to one of our lab techs. That bribe put into question every single piece of evidence that woman ever worked on in her entire career. Not only did Dragonni’s case get tossed out on appeal, so did a lot of other convictions. How can either of you promise that won’t happen again?”

  Clemente and Dawes exchanged uneasy looks with each other.

  “Right now, I’m guessing the only evidence you have against Dragonni are the eye witnesses that were there on the Boston Common that night who heard the conversation between Vito and Tony. I highly doubt that the records of the weapons transactions still exist. Am I right?”

  Neither Clemente nor Dawes said a word. They stared down at the table.

  “I fucking knew it! All you have is eyewitness testimony.” Ronan shook his head. “What about the others who were there that night? My husband? Captain Fitzgibbon? P.I. Jude Byrne? Detective Faulkner Hayes? Are they all being asked to testify as well or just me?” Ronan knew what their answer was going to be before Clemente opened his mouth.

  “We can’t discuss the witness list with you. You should know that, detective.” Clemente narrowed his eyes at Ronan.

  “What I know is that everyone who was there that night is a member of my family, Clemente. One of them is dead and now the rest of them have targets on their backs. When this trial is over, you’ll both go home to your cushy lives.” Ronan shook his head. “My guess is that you’re not even from here.” He pointed at Dawes. “Listening to that accent, my guess is Pacific Northwest, probably Washington State. You might want to work on that accent a bit before the trial starts. And you,” Ronan turned back to Clemente. “You’ll go back to double checking every lock in the house and sleeping with your Glock under your pillow.”

  “It doesn’t matter where I’m from, detective. All that matters is convicting Vito Dragonni. Are you ready to begin the trial prep?” Despite what Lauren Dawes was saying, she sure the hell looked like Ronan’s speech shook her up.

  “I’m ready, but if one hair on my unborn daughter’s head is harmed…” Ronan trailed off. He pasted a placid look on his face. He’d play the game. He’d tell the truth and nothing but the truth. He’d also sleep with one eye open from this moment forward.

  12

  Tennyson

  It had been easy enough for Tennyson to read what Fitzgibbon meant when he’d called to say Ronan was stuck in a meeting and would be home late. Clemente and the federal prosecutor had him working on Dragonni trial prep.

  The first thing he’d done after hanging up with Kevin, after offering up a prayer for Ronan’s protection, was to call Jude and Copeland. If he was going to be stuck here all night, the last thing he wanted was to be alone.

  His new Ghost Detective team had showed up half an hour after his call with take-out from his favorite Thai restaurant from across town.

  “How did you know I was in the mood for Thai?” Ten scooped a helping of Crazy Noodle onto his plate before handing the carton to Jude.

  “Psychic.” Cope tapped his right temple and reached for the shrimp lo mein.

  Ten started to laugh.

  “I could feel your vibe through the call along with how upset you are about this thing with Ronan.” Copeland reached for the box of spring rolls.

  “Ronan had no idea there was even going to be a trial and now all of a sudden he’s testifying in it.” Ten stabbed at a shrimp with his fork. The trial started tomorrow. This was one night Ten had counted on Ronan being home with him. It was one night of the few nights he had left with his husband where Ronan didn’t know what a lying dirtbag he was.

  “Ten, you’re not a lying dirtbag.” Cope gasped, his left hand fluttering to cover his mouth.

  Jesus Christ… Ten had been so upset over everything going on, he’d forgotten to put up his shield against Copeland. Jude already knew about Tony, but Copeland didn’t, until now.

  “Oh, God, Ten,” Cope gasped. “I didn’t mean to read you, but it was leaking all over the place like an overflowing bathtub. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Cope.” Ten held up a hand to stop Copeland from apologizing again. It really was his fault. He should have been more on the ball about hiding the news.

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Jude shook his head. “If they’ve got their star witness in Tony, why the hell do they need Ronan to testify at all?”

  “I don’t know, Jude. I’ve been wondering the same thing myself. I was going to ask Clemente, but then Ronan came downstairs and it wasn’t like I could ask that question in front of him. It just seems like our family is being put in the crosshairs for absolutely no good reason here.”

  “Do you think that’s it?” Jude asked.

  “I’m not getting anything.” Ten had been trying to read this situation from the minute Cruz Clemente had led Tony Abruzzi out of that hospital room dressed as a surgeon. He’d gotten jack shit, as Ronan would say. “I’ve tried to read this thing every day. I’m not getting anything. Not an image, not a voice, nothing at all.”

  “You’re too close,” Cope said. “Let me take a look.” Without asking permission, Copeland reached out, setting a hand on Tennyson’s.

  Ten tried to relax, but it wasn’t working. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer and he could barely catch his breath. Cope’s hand was cool against his own. The pinkie finger tapped against the top of Ten’s hand three times before he pulled away. “Well?” Ten’s voice was jittery.

  “I’m not getting much.” Disappointment tinged Cope’s voice.

  “But you are getting something, Cope?” Jude leaned forward in his seat.

  Cope shot his partner a grimace.

  Ten knew what that look meant. It wasn’t good. “Spit it out, Copeland. Is Dragonni going to finish what he started? Is my husband going to leave me? Am I going to lose my daughter? What?” Ten felt his emotions battling each other. Each supposition he came up with was worse than the one before it.

  “I’m not sure what I’m seeing, Ten. It’s some kind of a fight between you and Ronan. You’re both shouting. I don’t see the baby. It’s all I’m getting though, just this one scene. Neither of you are crying. There’s no luggage. Just shouting back and forth without rage, just two opposing viewpoints. Does that make sense?” Cope looked rung out.

 
; “Yeah, it makes sense. Ronan wants to know why I kept this a secret and I’m telling him I was given two choices.” Ten felt all the fight pass right out of him. He wasn’t going to get any kind of leg up here.

  “You never told me there were choices involved in this.” Jude shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “They must have been two pretty shitty choices if the best one was lying to your husband.” Sympathy tinged Cope’s voice.

  “Tell us what happened,” Jude urged. “Maybe we can help.”

  Ten blinked away the tears he could feel burning his dry eyes. “You knowing makes it worse.” Ten tilted his head back trying to figure out the best way to explain it. “When Tony was shot, I went to the hospital with him, while Ronan, Jude, Faulkner, and Fitzgibbon went to find Dragonni.”

  “He had a private jet at Logan waiting to take him to Morocco where’s there’s no extradition treaty with the United States,” Jude added, turning toward Copeland.

  “I got in touch with all of our friends, who joined me at the hospital, but Ronan and the others still weren’t there yet. After a few hours of waiting, Faulkner came into the waiting room and announced that Tony was dead, which didn’t strike me as odd at the time. He asked me to come with him, so I followed him outside the waiting room. He told me what I was about to see and hear couldn’t go any further than the people in the room. I was so upset about Tony being dead that I had no idea what the hell Faulk was talking about. My gift wasn’t giving me any clues either. When we got to where he was taking me, Faulkner knocked on a hospital room door and the door opened. Tony Abruzzi was sitting up in bed. His wife was there too.” Ten didn’t feel any lighter telling the story. If anything, he felt worse for telling the whole thing to Jude and Copeland and not to Ronan.

  “Let me guess, the FBI was in the room too?” Jude asked.