“We got here a few minutes ago.” Ten took a deep breath, still not sure if he should let Cope know what was going on. “Got a minute? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Cope studied Ten for a second before nodding. “Sure, just let me tell the guys when the food will be here.”
Ten took a seat at Fitzgibbon’s kitchen table. It was neat as a pin with the salt and pepper shakers, red pepper flakes and napkins arranged just so.
“What’s up?” Cope asked, taking the seat across from Ten.
“I’m not sure how to tell you this,” Ten began. Cope’s eyes widened, as if he were expecting Ten to spill some bad news. “Everyone’s okay. I promise.”
Cope’s shoulders lowered and he let out a breath. He looked Ten up and down. “You look scared. What’s going on?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything to anyone. I figured it was just a joke and didn’t mean anything, but then Ronan came home this afternoon and said Jude mentioned you not acting like yourself over the last two days, so I’m taking a chance telling you about what’s happening because I’m worried that maybe the same thing is happening to you.”
Getting up from the table, Cope walked toward the living room, as if he were checking to see that no one else was listening. He gently shut the door and walked back to Ten. “You’re getting ugly letters too?”
Ten nodded. “Thank Jesus.” He took a deep breath, feeling some of the building tension flow out of his muscles, before he realized Cope might take what he said the wrong way. “Not that you’re getting the letters too, but that you’re not going to think I’m completely insane when I tell you what’s been happening to me.”
Cope pulled out his phone, tapped several times and slid it across to Tennyson.
It was a picture of an envelope. “This is exactly what mine have looked like, block printing, with a Salem postmark, and no return address.” Ten felt his heart speed up when he swiped to see the next picture. It was a letter that looked identical to the ones he’d received. This was no joke. He focused on Cope’s phone and began to read the letter out loud. “My dearest Copeland,” he read out loud. “I know something you don’t know.” Tennyson felt his stomach drop. “This is exactly how my letters started out. It reminded me of elementary schoolyard bullying.”
“Me too. Keep reading,” Cope urged.
“You don’t know me, but I know you. I also know your husband, the great cold case detectiveandman-whore, Jude Byrne. I spy with my little eye, an angry man, who was fed up with his husband’s promiscuous ways. One little push was all it took to show Jude just who rules the roost. Oh, well, your jealousy was bound to rear its ugly head at some point. You’re lucky Jude survived or Wolf and Lizbet would have become orphans…Again!”
Ten looked up from the letter to see tears in Cope’s eyes. “Sweet Jesus.”
“Whoever this asshole is thinks I pushed Jude down the stairs. They think I tried to kill my husband.” Cope shook his head.His eyes were wild, full of panic and fear. “What happens if this person goes to the police? Or posts this poison on the West Side Magick social media pages. I’ll be ruined. No one would ever trust me again. What the hell would I do, Ten?”
“That’s not going to happen.” Ten reached for Cope’s hands. “Ronan, Fitz, and Cisco were at your house minutes after Jude fell. It was clear from Jude’s position at the bottom of the stairs how he fell. They also saw the boxes of scattered ornaments. Don’t forget Wolf saw the whole thing. His first words to Ronan were, ‘Daddy fell.’ If you had pushed Jude, Wolf would have told Ronan.”
“We both know that lies spread faster than the truth.” Cope gripped Ten’s hands like a life line.
“As for social media, we’ve got post approval turned on. No one can post anything without one of us approving the post. Even if a venomous post or comment slipped through the cracks, there’s no one who would believe you were capable of hurting Jude.” Tennyson had been at home with the kids when Jude had his accident. He’d spent days sitting with Cope in the hospital, hoping and praying for Jude to wake up. If Cope had pushed Jude, Ten would have been able to read it. During that horrible time all Ten felt was Cope’s fear of losing his husband and having to tell Lizzy and Wolf that their Daddy was dead. “Is this the only letter you’ve gotten?”
“Yeah, I got the mail today and there was no second letter.” Cope took a deep breath and seemed to relax. “What about you? How many letters have you gotten?”
“Two,” Ten said, feeling his panic begin to rise. He grabbed his phone, scrolled to the picture of the first letter and handed it to Cope.
“Jesus!” Cope gasped. “Whoever wrote this letter better make sure Ronan doesn’t find him after what he wrote about Everly.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” To be honest, Ten wasn’t as upset about the letter writer calling Everly the b-word, as he was at the thought that Ronan could possibly be drinking again.
“Ten?” Cope paused, looking unsure if he should say what was on his mind. “Do you think Ronan has…”
“No.” Ten shook his head. “I haven’t seen any signs at all of Ronan drinking. He hasn’t had booze on his breath, hasn’t acted erratically or come home smelling of a barroom. I know Ronan would never cheat on me. As for the second letter, maybe this letter writer saw him on a stake-out?”
“I just read him,” Cope said, looking worried. “I don’t feel any guilt or fear coming from Ronan. He’s excited about Greeley joining the team and can’t wait to put on his leather thong and be your good little boy later tonight.” Cope started to giggle.
Ten burst out laughing. He’d bought the leather thong, collar, and riding crop for Ronan for Christmas, not knowing how his husband would react. Oddly enough, Ronan had been more than willing to play slave with Ten as his master.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Ronan asked, walking into the kitchen carrying several boxes of pizza. Fitz was behind him with large bags most likely containing salads and dressings. “We could hear the two of you laughing like hyenas from the front door.”
“Cope told me a joke he’d heard from a client today.” Ten grabbed his phone and shoved it in his pocket.
“Pizza!” Wolf shouted, barreling into the kitchen. Everly and Aurora were right behind him.
Within seconds, the kitchen was mobbed with kids shouting out what kind of slices they wanted. Ten busied himself putting salad in bowls, making sure Aurora’s had no tomatoes. Through the chaos, Ten couldn’t help feeling relieved that he’d told Cope his secret. He was grateful, in a strange way, to have someone who understood what he was going through.
