Tennyson
After the meeting broke up, Fitz had been true to his word and reached out to the three frequent fliers they’d identified as the possible letter writers. He’d asked Kim Defoe and Tom Peters to stop into the shop because they’d won a free reading in West Side Magick’s monthly raffle, but didn’t tell them he was with the Salem Police Department. Fitzgibbon’s calls to Jason Zane had gone unanswered and he hadn’t called back to follow up. First up was Kim Defoe, who was scheduled to arrive at 10:00 A.M. Tennyson positioned himself at the front counter and waited for the widow to arrive.
Ten thought back to how his mother behaved after his father, David, died. Kaye could barely get out of bed. She hadn’t been eating all that much and the house had been a disaster. He found it hard to believe that Kim, who’d been a widow for a mere two months, was capable of writing the anonymous letters. Even if she was the author, how was she getting personal information about the West Side Magick’s psychics and their families? Thankfully, Ronan and Fitz would be there to ask the tough questions. Ten would also try to reach out to Frank again, but wasn’t hopeful he’d be able to make contact.
The bell jingling over the front door of the store brought Ten back to the present. “Hi, Kim! I’m so glad you could make it in today.”
Kim, who was dressed in sweatpants and maroon ski parka, managed a brief smile. Her eyes were red and she looked like she hadn’t had a good night sleep in months.
“Please follow me.” Ten’s stomach flipped thinking of this poor widowed woman being subjected to three cold case detectivesand their probing questions. He’d had a long discussion with Ronan the night before, cautioning him to go easy with these three people, until they revealed something that identified them as the letter writer.
He led Kim to the conference room door. She let out a small yelp when she saw the others sitting around the table. Ten was quick to usher her into the room and shut the door behind her. “Kim, I’d like you to meet my husband, Detective Ronan O’Mara, Captain Kevin Fitzgibbon and Detective Greeley Fitzgibbon. All three are members of Salem’s cold case squad.”
“Cold Case?” Kim asked, sounding as startled as she looked. “Frank died from cancer. He wasn’t murdered.”
“Please have a seat.” Ten pulled out a chair and Kim reluctantly sat down. His eyes were on Ronan. Ten sent his husband a pleading look. He’d sat in on many interrogations over the years he’d worked with Ronan and the Boston and Salem Police Departments, and knew how tough he could be.
“Kim, we have a couple of questions we need to ask you about an on-going case we’re investigating,” Ronan said. His manner and demeanor was calm, professional, but Ten knew it wouldn’t stay that way if Kim didn’t give Ronan the answers he was looking for.
“I don’t understand what’s happening.” Kim turned to Tennyson, who was still standing behind her chair. I was told I’d won a free psychic reading and now I’m being interrogated by three detectives. You’d better explain what the hell is going on here or I’m walking out the door.” Kim raised her left eyebrow and stared at Kevin. “Unless, of course, I’m being arrested,Captain.”
“No one’s being arrested.”Yet, was implied in Fitzgibbon’s tone. “A few days ago all four of the West Side Magick psychics began receiving poisoned pen letters.”
“Poisoned pen?” Kim wore a confused look. “Are you accusing me of trying tokillfour people?” Her eyes were so wide, Ten was afraid they were going to fall out of her head.
Ten could feel Kim’s anxiety ratchet up. “Let me rephrase that. The four of us have been getting anonymous letters from the same person revealing intimate details of our lives and intimating that our spouses and children have been up to no good. My letters accused Ronan of breaking his decade of sobriety and stated he was cheating on me.”
Kim’s wild eyes moved around the room from the detectives to Cope and then Ten. “And you thinkI’mthe one writing these letters” She sounded astounded.
“Our theory, Kim,” Fitzgibbon began, “was that the person writing these letters had a bone to pick with Carson, Cole, Cope, or Tennyson and was sending these letters as a form of revenge. We went through the client lists of everyone who works here and tried to determine who among them might carry a grudge, someone who’d had sessions with all four psychics.”
“Carry a grudge?” Kim shouted, sounding incredulous. “My husband isdead, Captain Fitzgibbon. I came here hoping to connect with his spirit from beyond the grave. When Carson was unable to reach Frank, Carson suggested that I schedule an appointment with his brother. When Cole couldn’t contact my husband, he suggested I meet with Cope and then with Tennyson.” Kim sniffled, tears coursed down her cheeks. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to find out the love of your life has stage four cancer?”
“No, I don’t,” Fitz said gently.
“Frank and I were together for fifty years and we still had so much to do. So much to say to each other. We only got ten days to say goodbye. In those days Frank got sicker, more worn down, in a world of pain, until his torment finally ended.” Kim reached for a tissue and began to dab at her eyes. “When Frank died, he was nothing but skin and bone. Instead of love, his eyes were filled with pain. I sat by his side for each and every one of those last few days. After he passed, all I wanted was to know he was safe and no longer in pain.” She stood from her seat. “It’s absolutely appalling that you all would intimate that I would be the person looking to wreak revenge on you and your families, but if this is the way you treat clients of this shop, I understand why someone is targeting you.” Grabbing her purse, Kim walked out of the room, slamming the conference room door behind her.
“The only way that could have gone any worse was if we waterboarded her.” Greeley wore a guilty look.
“No argument here,” Ronan added. “Did either of you get anything from her?” He pointed back and forth between Ten and Cope.
“I got nothing about the letters,” but I did see Frank.” Ten sunk into the seat Kim had just vacated.
“You what?” Ronan half-shouted. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”
“Frank showed up in the middle of Kim calling you three out. It was hardly the time to interrupt and tell her that Frank was here and he’s just fine and dandy.” Ten’s head pounded. “We’re gonna have to send her flowers or dinner from Lobster Charlie’s to apologize.”
“We’ll go see Kim, once she’s had a chance to calm down and talk to her about Frank. I saw him too,” Cope said.
“Did Frank tell either of you why he hadn’t shown up for the reading sessions you all had with Kim?” Greeley asked.
Ten found his first smile of the morning. “No, but he thanked both of us for helping his wife find her spark again. He was worried that Kim was going to wither away until she died and it was a relief to see her alive and vibrant again. We’ll reach out next week.” Ten could only hope that the now enraged widow would welcome them into her home instead of slamming the door in their faces.
“We need to think of a better way to handle things and quick.” Cope pointed to the phone in the center of the table which beeped.
Ten reached across the table and hit the speaker button. “Hey, Alana,” Ten greeted. Alana worked in the shop and was manning the cash register.
“I’ve got a man named Jason Zane on line two. Do you want to speak with him or should I take a message?”
