“I can only imagine. Paul Stark trusts us to work this case. I’m sure he won’t object to Sebastian being exhumed if I explain how I think it can help the investigation.” Ronan took another bite from his sandwich.
“What else have you got?” Cisco asked.
“I want to reach out to the frat brothers and the girls who were at that party. Time is the enemy of truth. Those kids’ memories of that night weren’t so good the day after Bash died, but with three years passing and those kids growing up a bit, there might be a person or two who needs to get something off their conscience.”
“Where are you on this, Fitzy?” Cisco asked.
“I’m one hundred percent in on investigating this case. I know I speak for all three of us when I say we’ll do everything in our power to find out what happened that night, and with Tennyson as our ace in the hole, I think we’ve got a good chance of solving the mystery behind Bash’s death.”
“Does Stark know this might not go the way he wants? It’s entirely possible that his son drank too much and fell down the stairs. Stark is looking to assign blame for his son’s death, and the person at fault here might very well be the person he’s mourning.”
“We’ll make sure he understands that before we make any moves. I want to get my hands on the case file and the evidence reports before we get back in touch with Paul Stark. Ten told him he needed to take some time to get his temper under control before he attempted to contact Bash’s spirit again, so I figure we’ve got a few days to do the legwork and get caught up on the case to date.”
“And if Jimenez and Watts object to the case being assigned to you guys?” A smile played on Cisco’s lips, indicating he knew the overworked detectives wouldn’t mind one bit.
“They’ve got seven open homicide cases sitting on their desks. Cases that are actual murders with suspects to interrogate and witnesses to interview. There’s been no activity on this case fornearly a year because, according to them, there’s nothing left to investigate.” Fitzgibbon offered Cisco a grin.
“You’re always prepared, Fitzy.” Cisco laughed.
“Former Boy Scout.” Fitzgibbon waggled his eyebrows and reached for another slice of pizza.
“Okay, the case is yours.” Cisco looked back and forth between the detectives. “We do this by the book. I get that you all feel a certain kinship toward this man, but thatcannotplay into the way you investigate this case. If we do have to exhume his son, I want an honor guard there. I want you four dressed in suits, even if it’s hot as balls outside. We do this with all the kindness and respect this boy is due. Got it?”
“Got it,” all four men agreed.
“I’ll speak with Jimenez and Watts myself. There’s bound to be a bit of butt hurt, even if this case is DOA in their eyes. I might have to offer them a few extra days of PTO.”
Ronan opened his mouth, looking as if he were about to ask where his extra paid time off was, but apparently thought better of the idea and went back to eating his lunch.
Tennyson couldn’t believe his husband’s behavior. He was somehow more mature, and his arguments for working the case were well thought out and not abrasive in the slightest. Maybe it was all the ice cream and hot fudge Ronan inhaled yesterday?
Stranger things had happened.
5
Ronan
Two hours later, Ronan was still stunned that Cisco had assigned them the Stark case and that Cisco had paid for lunch. If he’d known that going in, he would have ordered two steak-and-cheese subs instead of one.
Alone in the office, with Fitz and Jude running an errand, Ronan looked forward to spending time alone with the file. He’d have a chance to read the reports and look over the photographs before his partners were back in the office. Ten had an afternoon reading and would be up to help out when he was finished working.
His stomach roiling, Ronan studied the boxes sitting on the table in the cold case office. In all the years he’d been investigating homicides, he’d never once felt nervous starting a new case until today. Usually, the team chose a case to work and dug into it before they met the victim’s family, but the Stark case started with meeting the boy’s still-grieving father. Ronan could honestly say that he wouldn’t have fought as hard to work this case if he hadn’t cried with Paul Stark today.
Starting with the crime scene photos, Ronan laid them out on the large conference table. The first few images were of the frat house. There were several metal beer kegs, along with dozens of discarded red Solo cups. The trash can overflowed with more cups and stacked pizza boxes. The next few photos were of the doorway leading to the basement stairs. It was located down a narrow hallway going from the living room into the kitchen. There wasn’t a light on in the space, which would have made it harder to have spotted Sebastian and his potential killer. One item on the door caught and held Ronan’s attention. An openpadlock hung from a slide lock’s anchor point on the door. He jotted notes about how often the door was kept locked and who had keys to lock or unlock it.
The next few photographs were shots of the staircase leading to the basement. The stairs weren’t steep and didn’t appear to be rickety or warped. The same went for the railing, which was intact. At the bottom of the staircase was the crumpled body of Sebastian Stark. Ronan set out the pictures of the body. Bash lay face down on the concrete floor with his hands out in front of him. His shoulders and chest also rested against the floor, while his hips and torso lay at an angle on the first two steps. His legs were bent at the knees and were splayed out on the higher stairs. Ronan could see how the boy suffocated with the rest of his body weight bearing down on his chest.
The next photos were close-ups of Sebastian’s arms. From what Ronan could see with the naked eye, neither wrist appeared to be broken, and he couldn’t see any bruises, either from restraints or from breaking his fall. After having spent twelve hours in that position, there should have at least been signs of lividity, with Sebastian’s blood pooling and discoloring his skin.
Moving on to the police report, Ronan found himself getting angry. The notes said Bash most likely died as the result of a drunken fall down the stairs. There were a few witness interviews that all stated none of the frat brothers saw Bash fall. The interviews only listed first names, and there were no phone numbers collected. In Ronan’s opinion, the police assumed the death wasn’t caused by foul play without bothering to prove or disprove that point with actual evidence.
Grabbing the autopsy, Ronan saw that it was performed nearly forty-eight hours after Bash’s remains had been brought in. By the time the ME listed the possibility of foul play beinga contributing factor in his death, the crime scene had been cleaned up, and all of the frat brothers responded to follow-up questions in the same manner and, in some cases, with the exact language others had used. Obviously, the frat president or someone high up in the university had gotten to the boys and told them what to say if the police came around again.
Absolutely disgusted by what he saw, Ronan moved on to the autopsy photos. There were only a few in the file. There were shots of Bash’s face, his hands, and chest, which was one large blackish bruise from where the blood had settled after he’d stopped breathing. There were no pictures of his back or of his legs.
“Fuck me with a chainsaw,” Ronan said, letting his frustration out.
“That’s no way to greet your husband,” Ten said from the doorway.
