If Chet Hines got any paler, the reporter was going to pass out. He reached out for the man’s hand. “You didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m going to give it to you anyway. You’re not DanRather. You’re not your father. To be honest, you don’t even look like you enjoy being a reporter. Find something that stirs your curiosity, your passion. If you don’t, this job will swallow you whole. You’ll never live up to the standards set for you, not because I don’t think you can do it, but because I don’t think you want to. I know for a fact that if you solve the Cyrus Longfellow case, it will be your swan song in journalism, right?” Cope hoped his words would penetrate Hines’ thick skull and that the young man would know good advice when he heard it.
Hines nodded. “I’ve had enough of the crazy hours and pretending to be excited over interviewing a farmer who grew a rutabaga in the shape of Baby Yoda. I want something more. Something different.”
“I hear you,” Cope said. “But—” He paused, making sure that he had Chet’s full attention. “—no more bullshit like you pulled with us. If you need help, ask for it.”
“I assumed that once you got here and were able to speak to Cyrus’s spirit, you’d jump into the case with both feet and would be able to find his killer.”
“First of all, none of the detectives have jurisdiction here in Maine. They have their private investigator licenses, but they are only good in Massachusetts.” Cope knew Jude had kept his licenses current in several other states but didn’t think Maine was one of them. If by chance it was, he hoped his husband would use his common sense and keep that information to himself. At this point, all Cope wanted to do was try to have some fun on this trip before it was too late. “They would have to be invited into the investigation by the Old Orchard Beach Police, and even then, the Salem chief of police would have to approve their working per diem for another department. I’ve been around detectives long enough to know how possessive they areof their unsolved cases. I don’t think the detectives currently assigned to this case would welcome Massachusetts detectives into this investigation, which, by all appearances, hasn’t had a new lead in over a decade.”
“What can I do?” Hines asked, stopping just short of sounding like a petulant child.
“I have two nieces who are absolutely obsessed withFrozen. Be like Elsa and let it go. Cyrus Longfellow is happy. No one is demanding justice for his murder. If he doesn’t want his killer caught or to reveal his or her name, there’s nothing I can do to force him to give that information up.”
With a nod, Hines stood up from his chair. “I apologize for getting you all up here under false pretenses. You’re the dream team of cold case detectives and psychics, and I figured that if anyone could solve this case, it would be you. The station has paid for your rooms. You know how to reach me if there’s any actual breaking news.” With a short wave, he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
“Show of hands, how many of us think he’s going to drop this case.” Cope’s hand stayed down; so did all the others.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he does this sort of thing again, trying to get other members of the psychic community involved in this case,” Fitzgibbon said.
“Totally agree,” Ronan said. “Is he the killer, Cope? Could you tell?”
Cope shook his head. “I couldn’t tell one way or the other. He seemed pretty shocked that we suspected him.”
“They all do.” Fitzgibbon grinned. “Let’s go grab some lunch and then hit the beach. We’ll go to that cute lobster shack nearthe amusement park. I promised Aurora we could ride the giant Ferris wheel.”
Cope watched as Ronan and Fitzgibbon made plans for the rest of the day. He couldn’t be happier that the friends and business partners were back on speaking terms.
Heading back to his own room, he reached out to Cyrus Longfellow but got no response and didn’t feel his spirit. That didn’t mean he wasn’t here. Cope was curious to know if the ghost had heard their conversation and what he thought of Chet Hines.
One thing was for certain: Cope knew he hadn’t heard the last from Cyrus Longfellow or Chet Hines.
9
Jude
Palace Playland Amusement Park was a kid’s dream come true. Especially for a big kid like Jude. Fitzgibbon had been true to his word and brought everyone to the park to have a good time. Although, after a big lunch, Jude couldn’t help but think riding the giant coaster known as the Sea Monster wasn’t the best idea.
Even two hours after the fact, Jude was still upset by Chet Hines just showing up, out of the blue, at their motel room. Of course, he knew which room Jude and Cope were staying in because he’d been the one who booked it.
Cope, for his part, didn’t seem overly bothered by what happened with the news reporter, but Jude could tell he was having a hard time dealing with what Cyrus Longfellow had told him, or rather,hadn’ttold him. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, Cope pulled a piece of cotton candy off the blue stick. His fingers were covered in melting sugar. He looked like he’d been squashing Smurfs with his bare hands. “Never been better. It’s a gorgeous day. We’re at the beach. I don’t have to ride the Ferris wheel.” He pointed straight up to the highest car, where Wolf, Everly, and Aurora had stuck their little arms outside the bars of the cage and were waving. Cope waved back before snapping some pictures.
Jude shook his head. Cope’s answer might have fooled his friends or coworkers, but not Jude. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, babe. I know you’re upset about the whole situation here.”
“You know, I’m actually not.” Cope grinned at his skeptical husband. “Well, at least not anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Jude grabbed a tuft of cotton candy and shoved it in his mouth. How the hell was sugar floss this tasty?
“Listening to the sounds of the waves hitting the beach is so relaxing, and our kids are happy. What else is there?” Cope waved to the kids, whose car was now closer to the ground. He shot more pics of their smiling faces.
“Well, there’s keeping me happy too.” Jude waggled his eyebrows. He hadn’t gotten any action since the night before they left for the trip. “Maybe later, we can borrow the keys to the rental and get down to Poundtown, like Cyrus Longfellow suggested.” Jude paused, grimacing before he shook his head. “Can he see us in the van?”
Cope snorted. “I would imagine so.”
Jude shivered, obviously unnerved by the idea a ghost might be watching his moves. “Okay, maybe we’ll wait until we get home for me to get my groove back.”
“The last thing I’d expect you to be is shy. Before we brought Wolf home, you were the king of naked time. We had to get a new sofa, thanks to your naked pet tricks.”
