Ten had tried to use his gift to help figure out who’d sent the missive, but he had gotten no answers. He couldn’t even tell if the letter writer was a man or a woman. When there was any sign of trouble or danger, Ten’s first instinct was to get Ronan involved. He’d thought long and hard about showing his husband the letter, but at the end of the day, he just couldn’t do it. Ten had tried to read Ronan for any sign of drinking or the urge to imbibe, but again, his gift came up empty. Contrary to popular belief, it was possible for Ronan to keep secrets from Ten. For the most part, Ten stayed out of Ronan’s head. He was entitled to his privacy and for the most part, Ronan was an open book. He’d never been good at keeping secrets when it came to birthday or Christmas presents. Tennyson trusted his husband with his entire being, but even so, that didn’t help to answer the accusations made in the letter.
Cope had always been Ten’s confidant. Both married to obsessive detectives, they’d become natural best friends over the years. They took care of each other’s kids and were constant shoulders when their husbands were upset, hurt, or being assholes.
Ten had thought about showing Cope the letter. He’d even composed three or four text messages asking Cope if he had any free time that day, but in the end, he’d never sent any of them. It was possible Cope could read something from the letterwriter that Ten had been too close to see. He was also capable of reading Ronan, which was where Ten’s worry began to climb. What if Ronan had been drinking? How would it look if Ten didn’t know or hadn’t seen the signs? Worse, how would it look that he’d been incapable of reading his own husband?
He'd briefly considered asking Carson and Truman for help, but he’d come up against the same arguments he’d had for confiding in Cope. Ten supposed it would be even worse to involve Truman, who had no psychic abilities, but who’d been Ronan’s friend for years.
With Ronan, Carson and Cope ruled out as possible advisors, he turned to Everly. There was no way on earth he would ever bring a problem of this magnitude to his seven-year old daughter, unless, of course, Everly brought the problem to him. She knew all about Ronan’s battle with alcoholism, knew what booze was and what it smelled like. Ten was certain if she’d sensed anything at all alarming about Ronan, she’d come to him. So far, Ten hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary in her behavior or attitude toward her father.
That left Tennyson with Kaye. Could he bring this problem and the letter to his mother? Shaking his head, Ten sighed. No, there was no way he could speak to Kaye about the letter. She would be the first to tell him that problems in his marriage should be handled with Ronan. Ten also didn’t want to alert Kaye in case this letter was pure and utter bullshit, which a small part of him suggested it was.
If that was the case, if the letter was akin to a crank phone call, why the hell was it the only thing he could think about twenty-four hours after the blasted thing arrived?
Getting up from the table, Ten added water to the electric kettle and set it to boil. What he needed was a cup of tea before he sat back down and tried to figure out what the hell to do next.
The door alarm sounding, brought Ten out of his head. “Ronan, is that you?”
“Yup! But I’m only here for a minute to kiss my gorgeous husband.” Ronan walked into the kitchen full of his usual swagger and dropped a stack of mail on the table. He pulled Tennyson into his arms and kissed him. “Damn, that was good. If I didn’t have places be, I’d suggest we move this party to the sofa.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Where’s your place to be?” Ten asked, wracking his brain for any mention of what Ronan was talking about. He’d been very distracted that morning and hoped he didn’t miss something important.
“Can you keep a secret?” Ronan asked, his eyes twinkling.
Ten snorted. He was keeping one hell of a secret at the moment. “I sure can, unless it’s salacious neighborhood gossip, in which case, no.”
“This is neighborhood gossip of a sort, but what I’m about to tell you needs to stay on lock down until dinner tonight, got it?” Ronan wore a serious look.
“Cross my heart.” Ten held up his pinkie finger, which Ronan grabbed with his own.
“Fitz got a call from Cisco today,” Ronan began.
“What the hell did you dothistime?” Ten asked, rolling his eyes dramatically.
“Why is that everyone’s first question?” Ronan shook his head.
“If the shoe fits, babe.” Ten pecked his husband’s grumpy lips. “Tell me the secret before I burst.”
“Cisco called to let Fitz know he was adding a detective to the team.”
“What?” Ten’s eyes widened. It would kill Jude to know he’d been replaced.
“Jude’s not going anywhere,” Ronan said, as if he were reading Ten’s mind. “Last year, Cisco asked for the budget to add another detective to our team. It went through a lot of the usual bureaucratic red tape, but it’s finally been approved. Our new man starts this week.” Ronan’s grin stretched from ear to ear.
Ten knew better than anyone that Ronan hated change. Even something so simple as new curtains in the kitchen could throw Ronan off, which begged the question of why he seemed so excited about a new person being added to the unit? “Who is it?”
“Greeley.” Ronan laughed.
“What?” Ten was stunned. “I thought Greeley was happy working for the Boston Police Department?”
“Fitz said he was ready to move on, but didn’t give specifics. I have a feeling the decision had to do with Rock, who, rumor has it, is fucking his way through the new recruit class.”
Ten grimaced. “Why the hell did none of us see that coming?”
“Some people aren’t what they seem.” Ronan shrugged and kissed Ten again, before pulling away. “Fitz and I are going over to Jude’s to tell him about Greeley.” Ronan headed out of the kitchen. “We’re ordering pizza. I’ll text you when the food arrives. Bye!”
Before Ten could respond, he heard the front door open and then close behind Ronan. Sighing, Ten mulled over what Ronan said about people not being what they seemed. In both of their lines of work, he and Ronan saw their fair share of that practice in motion, but could it be said of Ronan?
Was it possible that Ronan was living a double life? Detective and family man on one hand and a closet drinker on the other?
