“What’s the plan for today?” Ten asked. He’d only been half listening the previous night while Fitz, Jude, and Ronan were discussing the plans.
“We can’t check into the rental house until 3:00 P.M. So we’ll get to the Cape as quickly as we can,” Fitz said. “There’s going to be a lot of traffic on Route 3, out of Boston, as well as on Route 6 when we get onto the Cape. I figured we’d stop for lunch somewhere on the way, maybe in Hyannis. There’s this great place called Baxter’s which has great seafood.”
“We’ve been there,” Ronan said. “Remember, babe? The restaurant is on a little island in the harbor with a view of a cute little lighthouse. Best fried scallops I’ve ever eaten in my entire life!”
Cope snorted. “We’ve been there too. Hyannis is where Jude and I rented one of those cute pedal boats, which my darling husband somehow managed to sink.”
“I’ll have you know it was the speeding sailboat who swamped us and sent the boat down to Davy Jones’ locker.” Jude muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, obviously still bitter over the adventure gone sour.
“When Jude ended up in the water, a piece of seaweed brushed against his leg and he thought he was getting eaten by a shark.” Cope held his stomach as he laughed.
“I remember that video!” Ronan chuckled. “Jude was screaming for help, and you were calmly wading back to shore.”
“Anyway,” Fitzgibbon said. “I thought after lunch we’d go to the Whydah Pirate Museum in Yarrrrmouth until we have an hour to go until check in. It’s a forty-five minute drive to Wellfleet from there. The kids will love seeing the gold and other artifacts found on the wreck.”
“Me too,” Ronan agreed. He unzipped his backpack and grabbed a book of his own. With a happy sigh, he cracked it open and started to read.
Ten had to admit Everly’s plan became more appealing by the minute. He couldn’t remember Ronan being this relaxed in a long time. The cases they’d worked this year had hit the detectives harder than usual. All three deserved a break. As did the husbands, for that matter. It was Ten, Cope, and Jace, who supported the detectives every step of the way.
Ten was going to do everything in his power to make this trip free and easy. If a pirate ghost happened to turn up, they’d find out where he buried his booty and then cross him over. Dead men tell no tales, as the saying goes and for once, Ten’s lips were sealed.
5
Ronan
Fitzgibbon had been right on the money when he said there would be traffic on Route 3 coming out of Boston. What should have been a ninety minute drive took over two and half hours. Instead of eating at the McDonald’s at the Plymouth rest stop, they should have gotten their order to go and eaten in the van to save time, but Ronan couldn’t blame Fitz for wanting to get out of the van and stretch his legs.
Once they’d crossed the Sagamore Bridge and gotten onto Route 6, the traffic was heavy, but, thankfully, moving.
“Daddy, are we there yet?” Wolf asked from the back of the van.
“Almost, buddy,” Jude said. “We’re going to the pirate museum before we go to the house.”
“Avast, land lovers!” Wolf called out. “Ye’d be wise to keep yer hand off me booty!”
“Booty!” Aurora and Everly chorused before bursting into giggles.
Ronan had been the one to suggest they tour the pirate museum on the first day of the trip. Fitzgibbon had just wanted to get to the house and take day trips from there. The drive from Yarmouth to Wellfleet would take another forty-five minutes with no traffic, and since they had two hours until they could check into the house, stopping for an hour or two was in everyone’s best interest.
“There it is!” Wolf shouted.
“Land ho!” Ronan joined in.
“What’s a land ho?” Wolf asked.
“It’s the opposite of a sea ho,” Jude said on a snort.
“I still don’t get it,” Wolf said. “I know what land is, but what’s a ho?”
Cope slapped a hand over Jude’s mouth. “Not one more word, asshole.”
Jude pulled Cope’s hand away. His eyes pled with his husband. “I’ll die if I can’t get the words out.”
“At this point, word constipation is better than word diarrhea.” Cope covered Jude’s mouth again. “A land ho is a garden tool, kind of like a rake, but solid, with no spines.”
“I don’t think that’s what it means,” Everly whispered, loudly enough for Ronan to hear.
He spun around quickly and shot his daughter a shut-up-or-be-grounded-for-life look. Everly burst out laughing. Ronan had no doubt his daughter knew exactly what a land ho was, he just hoped she was wise enough not to ask what a sea ho was.
