“Call me, Dante. My wife and I have been expecting you. Seeing Cope Forbes with the best detectives Salem has to offer is the only thing that’s gone right in the four years since Frankie disappeared.” Dante opened the door and ushered Fitzgibbon and the others inside.
Jude knew Dante was in his mid-fifties, but the man looked as if he were over seventy. He was thin as a toothpick, with his clothes hanging from his frame. Dark eyes were ringed with even darker circles. If Jude didn’t know better, he would have thought the man had been on the losing end of a fight. “This is my wife, Frankie’s mother, Sofia,” Dante said as he entered the living room.
Fitzgibbon introduced himself, Ronan, and Jude. Before he could speak about Cope, Sofia got to her feet. She crossed the room and took one of Cope’s hands in both of her own. “I’m so glad to see you, Cope. My friend, Tabitha, comes to see you once a month. She’s been urging me to make an appointment, but to be honest, I didn’t want to know if Frankie was…” Sofia’s dark eyes began to water. “Please, come in.” She led Cope to the sofa and sat beside him.
“Tabitha Stowe is one of my favorite customers,” Cope said with a smile. “Her love story with Grumpy George always leaves me believing in the power of true love. My husband can be a bit of a grouch too, at times.”
Sofia offered a sad smile. “Tabby used to complain about George’s demeanor all the time. When he passed, I remember her feeling so much guilt for not appreciating those grumpy moods and now that we know Frankie is gone, I feel the same way. I remember shouting at her when she was five and scribbled on the kitchen wall with crayons. Other parents putframes around the scribbles and call it art. I just shouted and sent her to timeout.” Sofia dabbed at her eyes.
Dante patted her back, in what looked to Jude like a practiced motion. He couldn’t imagine how many times Dante had tried to comfort his wife over the last four years.
“Is she here, Cope? Is my baby here with us now?” Sofia wore a hopeful look.
Cope took a deep breath. “She isn’t here at the moment, but let’s see what happens.”
Dante opened his mouth looking like he was coming for Cope with both barrels loaded, Cope continued, seemingly oblivious to Dante’s mood. “It took Tabby two appointments with me before George would speak. Some spirits are shy or mistrustful, especially when they’ve died violently. Why don’t we let Captain Fitzgibbon get on with his questions and we’ll circle back later.”
Sofia nodded, turning her attention to Fitzgibbon. “What do you know about my daughter’s death?”
“Right now, very little,” Fitzgibbon said. “We know Frankie died from a single gunshot wound to the back of the head. We haven’t found the projectile, so we don’t know what kind of gun was used. The autopsy didn’t show any other signs of violence.”
“How could it when all that’s left of our beautiful daughter is a bag of bones?” Dante said, bitterly.
“This is why we need to speak with you both,” Ronan continued. “Was Oliver violent toward your daughter in any way at any time?”
“No. Never.” Sofia didn’t take her eyes off Ronan. “I know you’re going to tell me that my daughter might not have told me thingsthat happened behind closed doors with her husband, but I know for a fact that Oliver would never lay a hand on Frankie.”
Jude wondered how the hell to ask how Sofia knew that? Did she have Frankie’s house bugged with cameras? Had she lived with them for a period of time. “Please continue, you have our full attention.”
“Oliver’s father battered his mother throughout their forty year marriage. Over the years, Oliver had begged and pleaded with her to leave him. Maggie finally did, after she’d been diagnosed with a brain tumor. Glioblastoma. The diagnosis is an instant death sentence and Walt beat her when she told him. I guess cancer was Maggie’s final straw. She lived with Ollie for the last year of her life, which was the year before he met Frankie. There’s no way Oliver would have hurt my daughter the way his father hurt his mother.”
“Was there anyone in Frankie’s life who wished her ill or was jealous of her? Someone at work or at the food pantry?” Jude asked. Violence came in all shapes and forms. In this day and age, everyone was capable of flying off the handle and committing a horrendous act.
“Everyone loved Frankie,” Dante said.
Obviously noteveryone, Jude thought to himself.
“Frankie was a bright light in this community. She volunteered so much of her free time to people who were less fortunate than she was. Not only did she work at the food pantry, she also donated to it as well. She always mentioned a woman named Mia Evans. Mia ran Sea Witches and was responsible for sourcing donations and creating marketing materials that would encourage people to give. Frankie never had anything bad to say about this woman, but when my daughter disappeared,Mia didn’t show up at any of the vigils and didn’t help with the searches. She’d always claimed her responsibility was to the people who depended on the pantry for their survival, but there were so many others who could have worked in Mia’s stead for an hour or two here or there.”
Jude scribbled the name in his notebook. He’d met Mia several times in the past. The Salem PD had sponsored a color run last year with all of the proceeds going to Sea Witches Food Pantry. She’d run the course and when she finished, looked like she’d fallen into a rainbow. Mia had crossed the finish line just ahead of Jude, so he’d been there to hear her heartfelt interviews with local reporters who were covering the event. It had even been Mia’s idea for the volunteers who threw the colored powder at the runners to solicit donations, just like the runners. Jude couldn’t imagine a woman, like Mia, whose entire life was wrapped up in her community could have committed this murder, but he’d been in the business long enough to knowanyonewas capable of murder.
“What about people in City Hall? Were there folks who disliked Frankie for her stance on issues or because she’d been elected when they hadn’t?” Fitz asked.
Sofia and Dante nodded. “Ambrose Watson,” the couple said together.
If there was ever a villain hiding in plain sight, it was Watson. The man was conservative with a capital C, which didn’t bother Jude. Everyone was entitled to their own stance on issues that affected Salem, but the way he’d gone about trying to cancel pride celebrations and the parade was diabolical. He’d used fearmongering, promoting the stereotype that the LGBTQIA+ population was out to indoctrinate the children of Salem, likening them to the witches who’d infected Salem back in the1690’s. Watson paid for billboards to be erected all over Salem, which caused a rise in hate crimes, and violence against openly gay couples. “What was his relationship like with Frankie?” Jude asked.
“The two of them were like oil and water,” Sofia said. “Frankie wanted more money budgeted for food, fuel, and housing assistance. She was a huge proponent of universal daycare which would have been paid for by Salem taxpayers.”
“Frankie was the polar opposite to Watson,” Dante continued. “The only thing they had in common was the fact both breathed oxygen. At the time of Frankie’s disappearance, Watson was trying to push through a city ordinance that would add additional taxes for psychic practitioners.”
“I remember that!” Ronan said, sounding energized. “Ten was off his gourd at the thought of raising prices for psychic readings. He thought West Side Magick would lose business, especially with the summer tourism season around the corner. The proposed bill galvanized Tennyson. He attended protests, carried signs, got our neighbors to sign a petition against the bill. I remember the ordinance failing when it came before the city council for a vote, but I don’t remember the particulars of how that happened. Do you, Jude?”
Jude nodded. “The motion was defeated six to four. There are eleven members of the council, so there was one member who didn’t take part in the vote.”
“The missing member was Frankie,” Sofia said on a sniffle. “In her absence, Watson managed to persuade three other members of the council to vote for the bill to pass. All three of them had promised Frankie they would vote no. That promise went out the window when she wasn’t there for the vote.”
Jude gut feeling that Watson was somehow involved in Frankie’s murder strengthened. He turned to Cope, wondering if his husband was picking up any information about Watson. “Cope, is your gift telling you anything about Watson?”
