“I understand what you’re telling me, Mr. Forbes, but without Mr. Byrne’s permission, I cannot enable that service,” the representative said, sounding a bit annoyed.
“My husband is missing!” Cope half shouted. “He can’t give you permission because he’s vanished.”
“Perhaps he was sick of you shouting at him?” The customer service rep took a deep breath. “Look, sir, I’m sure that your husband has just taken a ride to clear his head. He’ll be home before you know it. Call us back when and if a missing person’s report is file on Mr. Byrne’s behalf. We might not be able to help you then either, without a warrant.”
Ronan stuck his arm into the backseat and made a “gimme” motion with his hand. Cope gave him the phone. “Hello, this is Captain Ronan O’Mara from the Salem Police Department. Who am I speaking with?” Ronan’s voice was cold, but not angry.
“My name is Susan. How can I help you, man who is obviouslynota cop?”
“My badge number is 745512. Place a call to this number, Ronan rattled off a series of numbers. That will connect you Cisco Jackson.”
“Anotherfriendof yours?” Susan asked, sounding bored.
“No, Cisco Jackson is the Chief of the Salem Police Department.” Ronan took a deep breath. “I need to speak with your supervisor, Susan, as you are obviously not qualified to help me.”
“Fine,” Susan muttered. Seconds later, hold music began to play.
“Please keep your cool, Ronan,” Fitzgibbon said softly. “That woman might be an asshole, but she’s right about needing a subpoena. We each know a judge or two who owe us a favor, but even still, it could take hours before it would be drawn up and signed by the right people. It’s going to start snowing soon and will be dark in two hours. We need all the help we can get.”
“I know. I’ll behave.” Ronan let out a heavy sigh.
“Hello, Captain O’Mara? I’m Stephine Jones, a supervisor here with AT&T. How can I help you?”
“A member of the Salem Police Department, Detective Jude Byrne, has gone missing. He walked out of his home around nine this morning and has not been seen or heard from since. I’m with the detective’s husband, who’s trying to turn on the location service for Detective Byrne’s phone. We have a BOLO alert out on the detective and his car, but he hasn’t been located. I also need to tell you that we’re expecting blizzard conditions in Massachusetts to commence within the next several hours and it will be dark soon. Any help you can provide us would be welcome, Miss Jones.” Ronan winked at Fitzgibbon. He wore a look that said, “See, I can be civilized.”
“Unfortunately, without a subpoena or Detective Byrne’s permission, I cannot turn on the location service.”
Cope wanted to scream at the stupid woman, but he held his temper. Yelling wasn’t going to help anyone, Jude especially.
“But,” the manager continued, “since this is an emergency, I went ahead and traced the phone myself. It’s showing in the region of Ocean Street and Shore Road, in Salem Massachusetts. I’m sorry I can’t be any more specific than that.”
“The Salem Willows,” Cope said.
“Sounds like it to me,” Ronan agreed. “One last thing, Miss Jones, can you tell me the last time the phone pinged at that location?”
“11 A.M.,” she said. “The phone hasn’t transmitted any data since that time. It’s my guess the phone was turned off or the battery died. Oh, God, I mean it ran out of power.”
“Thank you for your help, you’ve done a great service for the Salem Police Department. Be well.” With those words, Ronan hung up the phone. “Let’s go.”
“Jude loves to go to Dead Horse Beach when he needs some time alone to think about things. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“It’s okay, Cope.” Ronan offered him a smile. “You’re scared out of your mind for Jude. I would think there was something wrong with you if you were clear headed at a time like this.”
“Jude’s not the only one whose used that bench to clear his head. Remember?” Fitz asked, elbowing Ronan.
“Yeah,” Ronan let out a short laugh. “I’ll never forget that day as long as I live.”
“What happened?” Cope asked. He welcomed the distraction Ronan’s story would bring.
“Ten and I had only been together for a few months. This happened after we closed the serial killer investigation. It wasthe only the second cold case we’d worked together, but Ten was burnt out and sad. Christ, he’d been kidnapped during our first case and Fitz got shot during our second.” Ronan shook his head, as if he were trying to knock traumatic images from his mind. “Anyway, Ten went up north for the weekend. Somewhere in Maine. He wanted to get away and enjoy some peace and quiet. The spirits who came in contact with him, wouldn’t leave him alone. He was swarmed, I guess you could say. Ten lost his temper and wished his gift away and it worked.”
“What?” Cope had never heard of such a thing. Obviously Ten had gotten in back somehow, but it had never crossed Cope’s mind to even try something like that.
“Yeah, it was awful. Ten didn’t tell me about it at first and tried to fake his way through a case I was working on. He went to see other psychics, got a massage, tried yoga, and finally went to see a shrink after he’d been attacked by spirits.”
“Attacked?” Cope couldn’t believe his ears. In all the years he’d known Ten, he’d never heard this story before. “How is that possible?”
“Later on, Madam Aurora explained that spirits knew Ten was a medium and they were angry that he was refusing to help them. None of the ghosts believed that his gift was truly gone and one night, they came for him. He woke me up screaming and had several dark bruises all over his body.”
