“Since it’s school vacation week, there should be a lot of things to do. We could go to the movies, disco bowling, Disney on Ice, the Museum of Science. The train from Salem would take us right into North Station at the Boston Garden. What do you think?”
Jude nodded. “Sounds good. I’m just antsy because I’m at the end of this forced down time. I don’t think I’ve spent this much time on my ass in my entire life.”
“I know how you feel. Ten had to practically tie me to the bed after the last time I was shot. The last thing I wanted to do was sit home and do nothing, while the world went on without me.” Ronan shook his head. “The office isn’t the same without you. I love having Greeley around, but he and Fitz are joined at the hip, which is great for them, and makes sense so he can learn the ropes, but I’ve been…”
“Lonely?” Jude asked with a snicker.
“Maybe,” Ronan muttered under his breath. “I’ve picked out three cases for you to look at when you get into the office on Monday. Whichever one you like best is the one we’ll tackle.”
“Fitz is ready for me to jump right back into the fray?” Jude had a feeling it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“I don’t see why not. You’re medically cleared. He was the one who had to send the letter from your doctor to the Salem Police HR Department.”
“Yeah, that’s just Fitz following procedure, but you and I both know he’s gonna fret over me like a toddler with a runny nose. It’s been two months of that kind of shit. I’m fine! My headaches are gone. So is my double vision. I’m as good as new.” Jude stood up to twirl around. His left knee cracked. “Okay maybe not as good as new, but not ready for the scrapyard yet either.”
“We’re both over forty. Fitz is over fifty. We’re in the prime of our lives and our careers.” Ronan sighed. “Look, we almost lost you. It wasn’t like you had a bump to the head or a couple of stitches, you were onlife support. A machine was breathing for you, Jude. I don’t want to sound like a drama queen but you have no idea how it affected me, seeing you lying limp in a hospital bed, your vital signs running across a monitor, reminiscing about all the great times we had together and praying to God we had more to come. I think we’ve all got some trauma to deal with, so you can’t be angry with us if we treat you with kid gloves for a little while.”
“You’re gonna be just fine, Uncle Jude,” Everly said, walking into the kitchen with empty ice cream containers. She dumped them into the trash and took the seat next to Jude at the table. “You and Daddy are gonna solve the Pistachio case in no time. I promise. Remember when I was a little girl and couldn’t wait to drive your car?”
Jude snickered. “You still are a little girl!”
“Hilarious, Uncle Jude. I’m seven years old now.” Everly giggled. “You told me to be patient, that there were so many amazing things that were gonna come my way before it was time to learn to drive. I think that was your way of telling me there was no chance you’d ever let me drive the Thunderbird.” She elbowed his ribs and waggled her eyebrows. “But I listened to what you said about being patient and now it’s my turn to give that advice back to you.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and hopped off her chair.
“What do I say to Fitz if he sticks me on desk duty?” Jude asked, feeling much better than he had a few minutes earlier.
Everly raised her hand, as if she had the answer to a question in class. “Do what we always do; say okay to his face and then do what you want, right Daddy?”
Ronan burst out laughing. “You learned from the best.”
“I sure did!” Everly hugged Ronan before running back into the living room.
“She’s not wrong, you know?” Ronan grinned. “I mean, I’ll feel differently when she’s sixteen and wants to go on car dates with boys, but I don’t see a problem where you’re concerned now, do you?”
“We’ve always been more of a beg for forgiveness instead of ask for permission kind of team.” Jude popped the plastic dome off his ice cream and dug in.
“I don’t see any reason to change that, do you?” Ronan asked.
“Nope!” Jude burst into an easy laugh. He felt better already. “What the hell is the Pistachio case?”
It was Ronan’s turn to laugh. “It’s the Pistorio case. Maria Pistorio was found dead in her bathtub in 2005. Her husband,Rocco, said she drowned accidentally, but there were marks that indicated maybe she’d been drowned on purpose. The medical examiner wasn’t able to say definitively if the death was murder or an accident, so the case has sat in the unsolved pile for quite a long time. It’s time we try to get Maria some justice. Our first step is to interview the husband.”
“It’s always the husband!” Jude grinned. He was going to hit the ground running and wasn’t going to look back.
2
Cope
Cope’s final reading of the day had been rough. His client, Wilma Florentine, had lost her husband just after Christmas. He’d suffered for nearly a decade with dementia and when his spirit arrived to speak with his devastated wife, all he’d done was belittle the woman and complain about the way she’d cared for him. It was Cope’s policy not to allow malicious spirits to say their peace. He’d tried to pussyfoot around to cushion the blow of what was being said, but Wilma had known her husband hadn’t been pleasant. She’d left the shop in tears.
All Cope wanted to do was go home and take a long, hot bath. He knew Jude had all five kids for the day and would be worn out. The bath would have to wait. He popped his head into Ten’s office. “You almost done for the day?”
“I am done. I was waiting to see you after that last reading. I could hear what that spirit was saying to his wife. My heart broke for her.”
“Same,” Cope agreed, taking a seat across from Tennyson. “It made me think of Jude and the time he spent in the hospital and when we brought him home after his accident. We all did what we could to keep him comfortable. To make sure he took his meds, had clean clothes and hot meals. It would kill me to find out that Jude was angry or bitter over the care we’d given him.”
“I wondered if the husband was just angry that he’d spent those last ten years losing himself and his memories and needed someone to blame in the afterlife. It’s always the spouse, isn’t it? They always blame us.” Ten shook his head.
“You’re right. We’re always the hero or the zero. There’s not a lot of wiggle room.” Cope rolled his neck. It was nice that Ten could commiserate, but he felt a headache coming on. “Let’s get pizza or something. I’m in no mood to cook.”
