Even with that support, important questions still remained. Who was writing the letters? Why? More importantly, who was next?
7
Ronan
Tennyson had been up early, getting the kids dressed, fed and out to the bus stop. Ronan knew he’d spent time with Cope the night before and had wanted to find out what they’d talked about, but there hadn’t been time. Ten seemed to have a lot on his mind and Ronan hadn’t wanted to push. He had a feeling the conversation would be lengthy.
Instead of worrying about Ten, Ronan turned his thoughts to the office. Today was going to be Greeley’s first. He couldn’t wait to dive into a case with the young detective. He knew Greeley coming to work with the cold case unit was a dream come true for Fitzgibbon.
Father and son were waiting for Ronan when he walked into the office. “Hey, guys! You both look ready to rock and roll.”
“Hey, yourself.” Fitz walked to the coffee pot and poured himself a to-go cup, adding cream and sugar before fitting the lid. “We started the day in Cisco’s office with Greeley being sworn in and getting his detective’s badge.”
Greeley held up the shiny shield, before clipping it back to his belt loop.
“Congrats, man. I’m so happy to have you on the team.” Ronan pulled Greeley in for a quick hug.
“I’ve got a couple of meetings downtown this morning, so I’m leaving Greeley with you, Ronan. Get him logged into the computer and then start looking for our next case. It’s a new year and I want to start it strong.”
Ronan knew Fitz meant he wanted to prove to the chief and mayor that approving the addition of a fourth cold case detective had been money well spent. “You got it, boss. I’ll make sure Greeley’s settled in.”
“Call if you need anything.” Fitz shrugged into his jacket and walked out of the office.
“I can’t believe this space used to be Carson and Cole’s apartment.” Greeley looked around the large open space, which used to serve as the living room. “You guys did an amazing job.”
“They’re running out of office space at the Salem Police Department and there wasn’t enough room to house us. Cisco offered us a conference room to work out of, but we’d all be displaced when meetings were held, so Fitz asked if we could repurpose our PI office here at West Side Magick and he said yes. Hell, we already had desks and office equipment, plus it put off needing to worry about new office space for the foreseeable future.” Ronan pointed to Fitz’s office. “Did your Dad show you our offices?”
Greeley nodded. “He gave me the empty one, but said you guys mostly work out here at the conference table.”
“We do,” Ronan agreed. “If there’s something going on that I really need to focus on or if Jude is driving me crazy, I’ll work in my office with the door shut, but that doesn’t happen all the time.” As annoying as Jude could be, he was a damned good detective and the two of them worked together like chicken nuggets and barbeque sauce.
“I was so scared for Jude when Dad told me what happened.” Greeley shook his head. “You all have been through so much over the years, the last thing Jude needed was a two week stay in the hospital.”
“We were all scared.” Ronan was still suffering from flashbacks. His mind would replay the frantic call from Wolf, the way his heart was in his chest when he ran across the street to Jude’s house, and the way his best friend looked, crumpled at the bottom of the basement stairs, lying in a pool of his own blood. As much as he wanted to forget what he’d seen and focus on the future, his mind wouldn’t let Jude’s accident go.
Ronan studied Greeley. There were so many questions he wanted to ask the young man, but wasn’t sure if now was the time or place to ask.
“Go ahead and ask, Ronan. I know the suspense is killing you.” Greeley offered a grin.
“Ask what?” Ronan thought he’d been playing it cool, but obviously not cool enough.
“What happened in Boston? At work. With Rock.” Greeley took a seat at the conference table.
“Yeah, all of that.” Ronan was silent for a few seconds, watching Greeley to see if he was uncomfortable with the idea of spilling his guts. As far as Ronan could tell, he looked resigned to his fate and maybe even a little anxious to tell the story.
“You know Rock was screwing around.” It wasn’t a question.
Ronan nodded. Fitz had told him. So had Faulk, as well as several other members of the BPD who Ronan still kept in touch with.
“I did my best to forgive him. I really tried. He promised it wouldn’t happen again, but I knew it would. Men like that don’t change their stripes.” Greeley’s voice was matter-of-fact, but Ronan could see the lingering hurt in his eyes.
Indeed they didn’t, Ronan thought to himself. Images of his ex-husband, Josh Gatlin, flashed through his head. The only thing that stopped Josh from fucking around on Ronan was their divorce.
“Anyway, I was about to break up with him for good, when Rock was given an undercover assignment. I know it had to do with drugs, but he couldn’t tell me anything more beyond that. He was supposed to be under for about eight weeks and I knew it wouldn’t be good if I’d left him before the operation ended. Rock needed to keep his eye on the ball and the last thing he needed was drama at home. So, I stayed.”
“Hoping that the time away from you would help Rock see the error of his ways?” Ronan asked.
“How’d you know?” Greeley asked, looking surprised. “Am I that transparent?”
