“Hold on a sec, Fitzy,” Ronan called out, motioning him to come closer. “The only person we haven’t spoken with yet is Jake Powell. Let’s see what the motel owner has to say before we go back to Chet.”
Fitzgibbon sighed. He looked as if he were ready to tear Hines’s head off for lying to them. “Okay, you’re right. We’re leaving in the morning, so this is our last chance to figure out who killed Cyrus once and for all.”
“Keep your head in the game,” Jude said, patting Fitzgibbon’s shoulder. It wasn’t like the captain to go off the deep end like this. He understood the need to solve this case within the next several hours, but going off half-cocked wasn’t going to get them the answers they needed.
Fitzgibbon scowled but remained silent.
Walking back to the motel, Jude wondered if he should ask his usually mild-mannered boss what was going on. He thought back to what Al had told them about not asking Cyrus what was going on at the club and how he’d regretted that decision ever since. “What’s up with you?”
Fitzgibbon stopped and put his hands on his hips. “Greeley called this morning. He’s having trouble with this case he’s working on, and to make matters worse, he broke up with Rock. He’s going to move in with us for the time being.”
Damn, Jude hadn’t seen that coming. “Have you told Jace?”
“Yeah, he’s pissed too.” Fitz cracked his knuckles, which wasn’t at all like him.
“What, because he doesn’t want Greeley living with you?” Jude had been under the impression that Jace and Greeley had a solidrelationship. He couldn’t imagine why he would be upset about their chick returning to the nest.
Fitzgibbon barked a rough laugh. “No, because Rock fucked overourson. I had to talk Jace out of driving to Boston this morning and giving the asshole a piece of his mind.”
“Hell hath no fury like a father scorned,” Ronan said with a chuckle.
“Asshole couldn’t keep it in his pants. Apparently, this wasn’t the first time. Greeley didn’t tell me how many times it had been. I had no idea they were having this problem. He’d mentioned not being totally happy but had left it at that. I should have questioned him more. God, I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not,” Jude said. “You’re a father who knows and respects your son’s boundaries. Part of the reason your relationship with Greeley has always worked is because you weren’t one of those helicopter parents hovering over him, ready to correct any mistakes he made.”
“Yeah, I know, but he’s my son. I want to be there for him,” Fitzgibbon grumped.
“Remember when Everly was little and learning to walk?”
Fitzgibbon nodded. A bright smile bloomed over his face. “Yeah, you walked around behind her, ready to catch her if she fell.”
“Right,” Ronan agreed. “What I was doing made her overly cautious and afraid to fall down. I didn’t realize the harm I was doing by trying so hard to protect her. Our kids have to learn not only how to fall but how to pick themselves up. Which is exactly what Greeley has done.”
“Yeah, I hear you.” Fitzgibbon ran a hand through his hair. “But I still want to punch that fucker in his stupid face.”
“Me too,” Ronan agreed. “Let’s go talk to Jake. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can confront Hines.”
“I’d like to punch that fucker in his stupid face too.”
“No arguments here.” Jude grinned. He hated being lied to. Worse, he hated when people thought they were smarter than he was. Jude was more determined than ever to find out who killed Cyrus Longfellow.
Walking into the front office, Jude found Jake Powell in his usual seat behind the front desk. He was engrossed in a tennis match and didn’t immediately greet Jude and company. In Jude’s mind, he couldn’t think of a more boring sport than tennis. How the hell people could watch it on television was beyond him.
“Hey, guys. Was Baked Alaska helpful?” Jake asked when the network went to commercial.
“Maybe,” Jude said, sounding more mysterious than he’d intended. “Before we can try to put the pieces together, we need to know what you saw and heard that night. Were you and Cyrus friends?” He was tempted to add “lovers” but bided his time.
“Cyrus and I had a friendship of sorts. He was my best customer by far. He paid for his six weeks at the Four Star in cash, along with a room deposit in case the property was damaged. He gave me extra cash every week to shop for him—you know, essentials like chips and razor blades. I was also in charge of procuring certainsubstances, if you catch my drift.” Powell waggled his eyebrows and quickly gasped, obviously remembering the men in front of him were cops. “I mean, I used to do that. I don’t anymore.”
“We don’t care about that shit,” Fitzgibbon said. “Was there anyone that didn’t get along with Cyrus?”
Powell sighed. “There had been a few noise complaints during that last week. Cyrus was very vocal, and there’s not a lot of soundproofing between the rooms.”
Jude knew that for a fact. He’d heard Ten and Ronan getting down the night before and thought he’d heard Ronan calling Ten “Daddy.” Not that he was going to ask his best friend to confirm what he’d heard. “Were the complaints serious?”
“No, I just moved the complainers to a different room. I sure as fuck wasn’t about to kick my best customer out of his room.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Ronan said. “What about that last night? Did you hear any kind of disturbance? Pounding on a door, shouting, screaming?”
