It might not have been ethical, but while Kent’s defenses were down, Ten tried to read the man again. Thankfully, he wasn’t guarding his secret quite so closely now. “Was the argument between you and Jack physical?”
Kent lifted his eye and stared daggers at Tennyson. “Is that how you work? You get people to break down and then you exploit them?”
“How we work is irrelevant in the moment,” Ronan said. “Answer the question, did you put your hands on Jack that night?”
“Yes!” Kent shouted. “There! Are you happy now? Jack wasn’t listening to me and was trying to walk away. I grabbed him and pinned him against the wall. I was holding on so tight that I left marks on his upper arms. I’d never put my hands on anyone else in anger in my entire life. When I realized what I was doing, I dropped my hands and stepped away. In that moment, Jack hated me. I’d never been in love that way before and the thought of losing him broke something inside me. When Jack walked away from me, I was afraid I’d lost him for good.”
Tennyson’s heart broke for Kent. He’d been violent with Jack, but did he kill him as well? “Was that the last time you saw him?”
“Privately, yes. I was with him on stage during our performance. I managed to whisper that I was sorry and Jack said we’d talk after the show. He said that he was wrong about hiding in the shadows.” Kent wiped his damp eyes on the cuff of his costume. “I was so anxious for the show to end so that I could really apologize and hold him again. That was how I noticed he hadn’t come out for the curtain call. You know what happened after that. Celestina found his body. All of my dreams ended that night. I knew I’d be quickly arrested and thrown in jail to rot for the rest of my life if I told anyone about our fight.”
“You’re probably right,” Ronan agreed. He turned to Ten. “Is he telling the truth?”
“Yeah, the fight is what he’s been hiding from us.” Ten’s eyes turned to Carson, who offered a barely perceptible nod. He’d been getting the same information as Ten.
“Where’s Vincent?” Jude asked, cracking his knuckles.
“On stage. He’s choreographing for the first clown number. It wasn’t going well. When he told us to take five, I got away from him as quickly as I could. Vincent was lashing out at us. Shouting at people who were a step off and threatening to kick us out of the show. I can’t stop you from trying to talk to him, but I’d sure as hell watch your backs.”
“He’s the one whose going to need to watch his own.” Ronan grinned, looking as if he was going to enjoy every moment of the conversation to come.
Ten and the others followed Ronan as he headed for the stage. He was thankful Kent had nothing to do with Jack’s murder. He understood completely why he’d kept the fight hidden from the police back in 1995, but keeping that secret from Ronan and the detectives only served to waste time.
Ten had seen the glint of determination in Ronan’s eyes. He knew that look. It meant his husband wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone. Vincent wasn’t going to know what hit him. Ten couldn’t wait for the fireworks to start.
15
Ronan
With his eyes on the prize, Ronan walked out onto the floor of the Boston Garden. He was standing across from where Vincent was working with the clowns. He’d guess the distance between them was thirty or forty feet, but Ronan could hear the man’s voice perfectly well. Vincent sounded angrier than the Incredible Hulk. He wasn’t going to like the interruption. Ronan wanted to rub his hands together like a cartoon villain, but there wasn’t time for that now. Once Vincent was in cuffs and read his rights it would be time to celebrate. Now, he needed to keep a cool head.
Ronan, Fitz, and Jude stalked across the floor. He nodded at the trapeze artists, acrobats, and roadies working on the equipment. They weren’t in his sights at the moment. Even though Ronan was fairly certain Vincent was the killer, he’d keep his opinion to himself and go after hard facts.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Goofball? Are you drunk or just fucking stupid?” Vincent shouted, as Ronan approached.
“Vincent!” Ronan said. The tone of his voice was all business.
Turning, Vincent eyed the people standing in front of him. “What the fuck do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy? This act is going to flop if these morons can’t get their shit together.”
Ronan shot Vincent a dubious look. The act was going to flop if Vincent kept acting like an asshole. “Take five everyone. Vincent, come with us.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Vincent spat at Ronan, as the other clowns watched with obvious glee.
“Members of the Boston Police Department.” He brushed his coat to the side to reveal his badge. Fitz, Jude, and Carson followed suit.
“We can have this conversation here, or we cuff you in front of everyone, and drag your ass downtown.” Carson sounded like he was auditioning for a guest spot onLaw and Order. “Your choice.”
“Fine.” Vincent turned back to the clowns. “Fuck off! All of you.” He shooed them away with a wave of his hand. Some of the clowns scrambled toward the locker room. When they were gone, Vincent took a seat. If this were a Celtics game, he would have been sitting in the most expensive seats in the house.
Ronan took the seat to Vincent’s left. Jude took the one to the right, while Fitz and Carson remained standing. Ten took a seat two rows behind Vincent. Ronan didn’t blame him one bit.
“What do you want?” Vincent eyed each of the detectives. “As if I can’t guess.”
“Tell us what happened the night Jumping Jack was murdered,” Carson commanded.
Ronan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Carson had taken to his role like a duck to water.
Vincent rolled his dark eyes dramatically. “It was opening night and the arena was packed. We all wanted to put on a good show. Me, especially.”
