Ronan pulled out his phone and found the pictures he’d taken of the box. “Is this it?”
“Looks like it. Where’d you get that picture?” Spencer asked, sounding mildly interested in the answer.
“A neighbor found the box out with your trash and she took it, hoping to reunite it with the next of kin, but soon after she took it, she forgot which house it came from.”
“A neighbor stole Aunt Effy Lou? Can I sue her ass?” Spencer’s eyes glowed with delight. “Shit, that would be more money for me and my Florida dream house with a killer game system and all the booze me and my bitches could drink.”
“Bitches?” Ronan asked, feeling pretty sure Spencer was still a virgin. Who would be stupid enough to sleep with this ridiculous man-child?
“Yeah, bitches love money and I’ll have a shit-ton of it, once I find Effy Lou’s will.” Spencer scratched his head.
“One last question, that I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking,” Jude began. “If you’re just here for the money, why did you go on television with a public appeal to find your aunt’s remains?”
Spencer rolled his eyes, looking as if he thought Jude was as dumb as a box of rocks. “Because I need to prove to Effy Lou’s attorney that she’s actually dead. Then I can get my money and sell this house.”
Ronan couldn’t believe Spencer was actually this stupid. He prayed this guy would never reproduce. “How are you going to use her remains to prove they’re Aunt Effy Lou’s? I mean, they could be anyone’s ashes, what with you taking the label off the box.”
“Dude, I don’t know.” Spencer sounded annoyed with all the questions. “Where’s my aunt? I need to bring her with me when I find the will.”
“Your neighbor brought the remains to my husband at West Side Magick. You can pick up the box there.”
“West Side Magick? What the fuck is that? A kiddie magician shop?” Spencer snorted. “Was your husband going to saw her in half? Make her disappear into a flock of doves?”
“It’s a psychic shop, dumbass,” Jude said. “The neighbor thought Tennyson would be able to connect with the spirit of the remains so they could be retuned to the next of kin.”
“Yeah, well if that fucking busybody had minded her own damn business then I wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“No, you’d have a bigger mess on your hands after the trashmen picked up the box and brought it to the landfill.” Fitzgibbon stood up. “Come to West Side Magick. Ask for Tennyson Grimm, show your ID, and your aunt’s remains will be returned to you.” The captain headed for the front door with Ronan and Jude right behind him.
“Wait!” Spencer called, “can’t you guys just deliver the box to me?”
“We’re the police, not pizza delivery drivers, asshole,” Ronan said, anxious to get out of the house. Spencer’s lack of empathy was only rivaled by his stupidity.
“Can you believe that fucking guy?” Jude asked, when they were back in Fitzgibbon’s SUV.
“I don’t know what’s worse, accidentally leaving Aunt Effy Lou’s ashes out for trash day or thinking that he needed to bring her with him to get his inheritance.” Ronan shook his head.
“I don’t want to think about what he would have done if Effy Lou had been buried,” Jude said with a snicker. “I can see him in the cemetery trying to dig up the casket. How has he never heard of a death certificate?”
“Because his three working brain cells were focused on booze and bitches,” Ronan muttered, pulling out his phone to text Tennyson. His husband was never going to believe that they’d discovered a name to go with the remains and that Aunt Effy Lou’s nephew was a nothing but a greedy blockhead.
10
Tennyson
Ten’s mouth hung open as Ronan, Jude, and Fitz detailed their meeting with Spencer Stephens. The story kept getting stranger and stranger as the men told it, all the while trying to keep straight faces. “Okay, so let me get this straight, Channel Five failed to mention that it wasn’t Aunt Effy Lou who Spencer was looking for, but her remains?”
“Yup!” Ronan laughed. “After we called Cisco Jackson to let him know that our missing person had been found, I called JohnJameson and left him an angry voicemail in which I may or may not have threatened to arrest his ass for wasting the Salem Police Department’s resources.”
“I have a feeling he’d love it if you were the one to slap the cuffs on him.” Ten rolled his eyes. He supposed it wasn’t Jameson’s fault if the editors cut the piece together while leaving out the most critical piece of information.
“Probably so,” Ronan agreed. He opened his mouth looking like had more to say on the subject when a knock on the door interrupted him.
Carson stuck his head in the door. “Spencer Stephens is here. He’s grabbing a cup of coffee from Cassie’s and he’ll be right in. FYI, his aura sucks.”
“So does his attitude.” Fitzgibbon frowned. “Which one of us is going to tell him that he doesn’t need to bring the box to his aunt’s attorney?”
“It would be worth it just to see the look on his face, but Aunt Effy Lou deserves better than that.” Ten hoped the poor woman had a nurse or kind caregiver with her at the end, because by the sound of things, Spencer would have just sat around waiting for her last breath, repeatedly checking the time and sighing.
