“Ronan, this way,” Cope called out. His gift pulled him past the living and into the kitchen. There were two doors left open. One led to a half bath and the other to a pantry closet. Betsy wasn’t hiding in either of them. There was no sign of a basement. Opening the back door, Cope stepped out onto the porch, which was still covered in snow but for two sets of footprints leading down the stairs and stopping at a set of bulkhead doors which stood open. Cope wanted to race down the stairs and into the basement, but remembered Ronan telling him not to charge into any room unless he’d cleared it. Cope wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait for Ronan to meet up with him. On the other hand, it wasn’t going to do much good if he were shot in the attempt to free Jude.
“What did you find?” Ronan asked, coming up from behind him.
“Bulkhead. That’s the way into the basement. Look at the footprints.” Cope pointed.
“We don’t know where Betsy Wilcox is.” Ronan wore a worried look.
“Based on the fact that the bulkhead doors are open, my guess is that she’s down there with Jude.”
“I’ll go check it out. You stay here.” Ronan started down the stairs. He carried his gun in his right hand.
“We’re sticking together,” Cope said, unwilling to let Ronan go into the unknown by himself. He followed the detective, who’d stopped to the left of the open doors. He peered over the edge just as Cope caught up with him. The stairs were empty. At the bottom, a large metal door stood partially open. He could hear a low voice speaking.
“If you’re gonna shoot me,” Jude shouted, “just get it the fuck over with. I’m sick of listening to you talk.”
Cope rolled his eyes. “Apparently being abducted by a former lover and his crazy Mommie Dearest has done nothing to mellow out my dumbass husband.” As worried as he was with Jude antagonizing Betsy Wilcox, Cope was relieved to hear Jude’s voice.
“You gotta love his spirit.” Ronan moved to the head of the stairs and started down. Cope noticed Ronan stayed to the side of the stairs that was concealed behind the partially opened door.
When Ronan was halfway down, Cope followed behind him. Peering around the door, Ronan held his hand up like Fitzgibbon had done when the were in front of the house. Cope stopped in his tracks. He was down the concrete stairs far enough to see inside the room. Jude was visible standing justoutside a cage, while Betsy held him at gunpoint. In his hands was what looked like a piece of metal. On the floor at his feet were the remains of a broken padlock. It looked like Jude had almost freed himself from his captor’s clutches.
“I said drop the weapon, asshole!” Betty shouted at Jude, who wore a crooked grin. Her back was to Ronan, but Jude could see his best friend creeping up behind her.
“You first,” Jude goaded. “How can a woman as smart as you still fall for Armstrong’s bullshit? I mean, he fucked you and knocked you up, left you and Jerry high and dry and is only now reaching out to you because he’s in prison and needs someone to put money in his commissary account so he can buy Ramen and Ring Dings. He’s led you on and broke your heart for nearly forty years. When is enough, enough?”
“When I kill you!” Betsy said. “With you and Ronan dead. I’ll be free. Free from Paul. Free from the Beast. Free from everything. Now, drop the metal and put your hands up.”
Ronan was still several steps away from Betty. Cope knew Jude was going to keep the woman talking and distracted.
“One last thing and then I’ll drop the weapon. How did the Beast transfer to you?” Jude asked.
Cope was actually interested in Betty’s answer. During Paul Armstrong’s trail, it had come out that he’d been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, which combines symptoms of schizophrenia with a mood disorder. According to the testimony given by various psychiatrists who’d examined Armstrong, the man had been hearing voices since he was in his early twenties.
“Paul gifted the Beast to me. He said that I had to kill you and Ronan O’Mara and then we could be together forever.”
Ronan pressed his gun to the back of Betsy’s head. “The only place you’re going forever is the Massachusetts Women’s Prison in Framingham. Drop the gun, bitch,” Ronan said. “Don’t make me ask you again.”
Screeching, Betty turned to confront Ronan, who stood calmly in the face of the storm.
“Drop it!” Ronan said. The hand holding the gun didn’t waver in the slightest.
With a roar of outrage, Betty dropped the gun at Ronan’s feet.
Ronan was quick to kick her gun away, holster his own and slapped the cuffs on her. The detective wore a happy grin.
Cope burst into the room. “Jude!” He ran to his husband, who looked exhausted. Wrapping his arms around him, Cope felt himself tear up. “I was so worried about you. Stupid jerk. I never thought I’d see you again. What the hell were you thinking storming out of the house like that? Wolfie and Lizzy B have been worried sick about you. You, you…” Cope couldn’t find a word that seemed to fit this situation.
“Dumbass?” Jude suggested.
“Close enough,” Cope agreed.
“Salem Police!” Cisco Jackson shouted, coming into the basement. Other officers raced in behind the chief. One of whom went to Betty and grabbed hold of her left elbow. “Betty Wilcox, you’re under arrest for the abduction of Detective Jude Byrne.” He march the angry woman toward the door, reading Betty her rights as he walked her toward the stairs.
“This isn’t over,” Betty warned. “Not by a long shot. I won’t rest until you’re dead.” As she was led from the room, she kept upa steady barrage of threats against Jude, Cope, Ronan, and the rest of the Salem Police Department.
“Are you okay?” Ronan asked Jude when Cope finally let go of him.
Jude nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered and wrapped his arms around Ronan just as Fitzgibbon came down the stairs. He immediately joined the group hug.
