“Does he sound angry?” Ten asked, feeling his heartrate kick up.
“Not at all. He sounds lovely.”
“Put him through,” Ten said.
“Hello? Is this Kevin Fitzgibbon?” a cordial voice asked.
“Yes, Mr. Zane, I’m Fitzgibbon.”
“I’m sorry it’s taken this long for me to get back to you. I’ve been in London for the last two months getting acclimated to my new job out here.”
“Hi, Jason, this is Tennyson Grimm. We had several psychic reading sessions together. Our last was a few months ago.”
“Right,” Jason agreed. “I was a complete and total douchebag to you over the last few years. I don’t know how the hell you never lost your temper with me.”
Ten wasn’t sure what to say to that. He never lost his temper because he’d been afraid Jason would punch him into next week. “I appreciate your apology.”
“After that last session we had a few months back, I started seeing a shrink, who opened my eyes to what my wife was doing to me. I got a divorce. Took anger management classes and learned how to set boundaries. Everything started to change for me after that. I was promoted and sent to work in the London office of my company. I met a nice woman, who makes me laugh and would never treat me the way my ex did. I can’t thank you enough for everything you helped set into motion for me.”
“You’re welcome, Jason.” Ten felt like he was in theTwilight Zone. Even with his gift, he’d never seen this kind of transformation in the cards for his formerly angry client.
“Before I let you go, I was wondering if Poppy was going to say yes?” Jason sounded nervous.
Ten shut his eyes. He opened his gift and saw Jason down on one knee on London Bridge with a ring box in his hand. Poppy’s hands came up to her face and she started nodding her head before Jason finished asking the question. Lastly, he saw twin boys with Poppy’s blonde hair and Jason’s bright blue eyes. Ten chuckled. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“The laugh in your voice tells me everything I need to know. I’ll be sure to send you an invite to the wedding. Thanks again for everything you’ve done for me.”
“You’re welcome. Be well.” Ten pushed the button to disconnect the call. “I haven’t seen that kind of turn around ever. I thought the reason Jason wasn’t getting back to us was because he was in jail somewhere.”
“You’re sure he didn’t write the letters?” Fitzgibbon asked.
“One hundred percent sure,” Ten agreed. “I could see his entire life play out in my mind. Not to mention the fact that he’s been out of the country for the last few months.”
“I see the same thing,” Cope chimed in. “So that leaves us with Tom Peters, who’s scheduled to come in after lunch.”
“We’ll work on a better way to approach him before he gets here,” Fitz said, getting out of his seat. “Before we do that, I’m going to send Kim Defoe a plant and a box of chocolates. The last thing I need is for my house to get egged.”
“Good choice.” Ten relaxed back into his chair. “I’m gonna go over my session notes from the times I met with Anita Peters. I’ll send them to you. Maybe they’ll help you figure out a way to question her widower without him wanting to throw a punch.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Ronan grinned. “Who would want to punch a face that’sthishandsome?”
“Grab a pen,” Fitz snorted. “I’ll give you a list.”
“Asshole,” Ronan muttered. He pressed a kiss to Ten’s cheek before leaving the conference room.
Ten felt better than he had since this whole poisoned pen letter thing started. He hoped Tom Peters was the one who’d been behind them. If not, he was back to square one with an empty suspect list. The mailman was due to arrive after lunch. Ten prayed there were no more letters in his sack.
13
Ronan
Ronan had spent the hours since Kim Defoe’s dramatic exit from West Side Magick trying to figure out how to handle Tom Peters. He’d never been to West Side Magick. Ten’s notes from his sessions with Anita described him and the relationship they had before and after she’d started looking for the daughter she’d given up for adoption. According to Anita, her husband was a mild-mannered man so in love with his wife that he lived to make her happy.
After finishing Ten’s notes and sharing them with Fitz and Greeley, they’d decided to let Tennyson handle the interview with Anita’s widower and would only jump in if it seemed like Tom was guilty of writing the letters. Ten had a much softer touch with people than Ronan.
“Are you ready to do this?” Ronan asked Ten when he walked into the conference room.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Ten took a seat with a sigh. “I’ve taken the lead on interrogations with suspects of murder before, but never with someone who’s threatening our family and livelihood.”
