Ronan
After two hours, Ronan had given up going through the obits in hopes of figuring out who the box of remains belonged to. There had to be another way to come at this problem, but in the meantime, he and the rest of the cold case team were sitting around the conference table reading a new case file when Fitzgibbon’s phone rang for the third time that morning. It had been Greeley on the phone the previous times.
The newly-minted Boston Homicide Detective had been a bit out of sorts since he’d moved out of the house he’d shared with his former boyfriend and had come back to Salem, bunking, for the time being, with Fitzgibbon and Jace. He’d taken a few weeks off to get himself settled and seemed to be at loose ends with nothing to occupy his time now that Aurora was back in school.
“Hey, Cisco,” Fitzgibbon said when he answered the call. He left the table and walked into his office, closing the door behind him.
“At least it’s not Greeley again,” Jude said.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Ronan loved Greeley like the young man was his own son. He’d been through a lot in his young life and this breakup was just the latest thing to knock him back a step. “I wish there was something we could do to help get him back on his feet.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had to deal with a brokenhearted man.” Jude snorted. “I lost count of how many hearts I broke, back in the day.”
“Oh, please.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “You’re not God’s gift to men, you know.”
“Hell if I wasn’t,” Jude shot back.
“Change of plans, kids,” Fitzgibbon said, hurrying out of his office. “We’re setting the Houghton case aside for the time being.”
“What are we doing instead?” Ronan asked with a frisson of fear snaking around his heart. The last time Cisco pulled them off a case it was to make them work traffic duty for an afternoon.
“What the hell did you do this time?” Jude asked, sounding annoyed.
“I didn’t do anything the last time. Not really, anyway.” Ronan frowned. He may have told Cisco he was full of shit when the chief had offered his opinion on a case that was so cold it was in the deep freeze. Cisco hadn’t minded a little spirited debate, but when Ronan told the chiefhewas the reason the case had gone cold in the first place, Cisco had responded by putting all three detectives on traffic duty, writing up tickets on expired parking meters and issuing citations for jaywalking. Ronan had learned his lesson the hard way and hadn’t made the same mistake twice. At least he didn’t think he had. There were a lot of times when his mouth overrode his common sense.
“Our change of plans has nothing to do with Ronan,this time.” Fitzgibbon shot Ronan a wary look. “Cisco wants us to go see the nephew of that missing woman, Effy Lou Josephine.”
Instantly relieved, Ronan turned his attention to the case at hand and realized he had never heard of this person. “Who’s that?”
“Fucked if I know,” Fitzgibbon said, shoving his phone into his back pocket. “Her nephew, Spencer Stephens, was on the news this morning begging for his aunt to be found and returned home. For some reason, the man called Channel Five instead of 911.” Fitz shook his head. “What the hell is wrong with people?” Without waiting for an answer, he headed for the stairs.
Ronan followed along behind. “Does Cisco want Tennyson involved?” He knew his husband had a dentist appointment that morning, but he should be back from that by now.
“Not yet,” Fitz said. “He wants us to get the basics from this Spencer person and we’ll go from there.” Fitz opened the shop door and held it open for Ronan and Jude.
“I hate to ask,” Jude said, when they were settled in the SUV and pulling out into traffic, “but why arewebeing sent to interview this guy? Aren’t there other detectives who are better suited to missing persons cases?”
“According to Cisco, this woman is in her early sixties. He has a feeling the outcome isn’t going to be favorable for Effy Lou or her nephew. He wants us on the case because we have a way with people.”
Ronan wasn’t going argue on that point. He and Fitzgibbon had a combined fifty years of law enforcement experience. They’d each worked more than their share of missing person cases. Jude had done similar work as a private detective, taking over when the police couldn’t make any headway. “What do we know about this woman aside from her age and the fact that she’s named after a Cabbage Patch Kid.”
“All we know was in the interview the nephew did with John Jameson,” Fitz said.
“It has to be Jameson.” Ronan shook his head. The handsome journalist had made it clear on several occasions that he’d like to take Ronan’s Mustang out for a spin, and hewasn’ttalking about the classic car.
“People trust him.” Jude flipped through his phone as he spoke. “If I had a story that I needed to bring to the media, he’d be the first person I’d call.” He paused for a few seconds. “Okay, here it is.” Tapping the phone, the video started to play.
John Jameson stood in front of a small, white, ranch-style house. “Early this morning, a call came into the Channel Five newsroom about a missing woman. That woman is Effy Lou Josephine, a long-time Salem resident. It was her great-nephew, Spencer, who reached out for our help.”
The shot cut to a sobbing young man. “You have to find her,” Spencer said through his tears. “Effy Lou means the world to me. We need to find her and bring her home where she belongs.” A picture of an elderly woman wearing a pink housecoat and cuddling a black kitten appeared on the screen. “She’s the kindest woman I’ve ever known. I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t come home.” Several more pictures of the elderly woman flashed across the screen before cutting back to Jameson.
“If you or someone you know has seen Effy Lou Josephine, please reach out to the Salem Police Department. Reporting live from-” Jude tapped his phone to cut off John Jameson’s sign off.
“Shit, there’s not a lot of information to go on.” Ronan felt his temper start to rise. “What the hell was Jameson thinking not calling the Salem Police? He didn’t bother to ask when the last time Effy Lou was seen, what she was wearing, or anything else that could help lead to us finding her. Stupid prick,” Ronan muttered under his breath.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions. We’ll see what the nephew has to say and we’ll go from there.” Fitzgibbon climbed out of the SUV. Ronan and Jude followed.
Taking a look around the neighborhood, Ronan thought it looked familiar. Everly had been invited to several birthday parties over the summer. He assumed one of those kids lived around here. When Fitzgibbon knocked on the front door, Ronan pulled out his badge and slung it around his neck.
