Jude frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you working so much during the summer. Yeah, we’re adults, but there should still be time for fun in the sun.”
“We have those two weeks in August coming up. Fitz booked us into this stunning hotel on the rocky coast of Rhode Island.”
“Since when did Fitzy become the tour director?” Jude asked, feeling glum. He knew exactly what Cope’s answer would be.
“Uh, maybe it’s because you booked us into a no-tell motel last summer?” Cope rolled his eyes.
“In my defense, I was misled and the kids loved it there.” Jude didn’t have much of a defense. The Four Star Motel hadn’t been much for looks or amenities, but they’d had fun and no one had any permanent scars. He was about to ask about the hotel in Rhode Island, but his and Cope’s phones dinged with an alert.
Jude picked his up. His heart sank as he read the headline from one of the Boston news stations. “Skeletal remains found in Salem Towne Forest.” He quickly scanned the rest of the story, but at this early stage, there wasn’t much to tell.
“Oh, fuck,” Cope muttered under his breath.
“What?” Jude asked.
“I know who the remains belong to.” Cope shivered in the warm room.
Jude had a horrible feeling he did too. “Francesca Adams?”
Cope nodded. “I could see the tattered remains of her Sea Witches tee.”
Francesca Adams was a wife and member of the Salem City Council. She and her husband, Ollie, had just come back from a two week trip of a lifetime to Italy. Two days after they returned to Salem, Francesca had been reported missing, along with a million dollars from the city treasury. Neither Francesca or the money had been seen since. Until today.
“I’ll never forget the day we met Oliver,” Cope said, shaking his head sadly.
“Oh, Jesus, I’d forgotten about that.” It had been a normal Thursday at West Side Magick. Ronan and Fitz had been in their offices on the second floor, while Jude was picking up sandwiches from West Side Sweets. He just moved away from the counter when a desperate looking man walked into the psychic shop. The man was dressed in crusty-looking jeans and a red t-shirt, with pit stains that soaked his shirt nearly down to his waist. He’d bellowed for help. Begging everyone to help him find his missing wife. “I’ll never forget the wild look in his eyes.”
“I’ll never forget the way Ollie howled with grief when Ten and I told him we couldn’t locate his wife. Or the way he’d tried to take his own life two days later.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Cope, not being able to locate Francesca or knowing what Oliver did later.” Since Jude was the one who’d brought the grieving man into the conference room while he gathered the others, he felt responsible for Oliver and had visited the man in the hospital several times.
“I know,” Cope said, blowing out a hard breath, “but, I wasn’t able to help him the other times either. None of us were.”
After Oliver had gotten out of the hospital, he’d sent an email to Cope apologizing for his behavior that day in the shop. Every year after, on the anniversary of Frankie’s disappearance, Oliver came in for a reading. Cope was never able to connect with her spirit, which always gave Oliver hope. If Cope couldn’t communicate with Francesca’s ghost, that meant she was still alive.
“What do we do now? Nothing? Or should we call Ollie?” Jude felt both moves were wrong, but he wanted to hear what Cope had to say.
“We wait.” Cope sighed. “It’s not going to take long for the remains to be identified. All hell’s gonna break loose with the media coming to town and the spotlight will once again be on Oliver as a suspect, no matter how she died.”
Jude rifled his hands through his dark hair. “Yeah, the investigation heating back up was my first thought too, but you mentioning the media is a good call.” All of the major Boston stations had come to town when Francesca first went missing. When word of the missing money got out, that brought the cable news vans, along with national network coverage. There was so much media in town that it felt like Halloween, only the kidnapper wasn’t a teenager wearing a rubber mask, he was the real deal.
Jude knew the investigation was about to heat up. He didn’t need Cope’s gift to know that Oliver Adams was going to turn up at West Side Magick sooner, rather than later. When that happened, Jude would be ready.
2
Cope
Just as Cope’s gift had told him, the skeletal remains found deep in the Salem Towne Forest were those of Francesca Adams. She’d been preliminarily identified on site by scraps of her tattered clothing. The Essex County Medical Examiner had confirmed the ID through dental records. The ME had also stated cause of death was a gunshot wound, manner of death was homicide.
Cope hadn’t slept well that night and based on his tossing and turning, neither had Jude. It was obvious both men knew what was coming next. The only question was which version of Oliver Adams they’d get, the rational, heartbroken man, or the panic-stricken murder suspect.
West Side Magick was quieter than usual when Cope walked through the door. Carson was at the register, ringing up purchases from one of his best customers. The woman offered Cope a sad look. He had no doubt all of Salem knew about Francesca’s remains being found, and thanks to the local media reviving the story, knew what role Cope and Jude had played in the drama.
Settling into his reading room. Cope pulled up his email. He’d asked Jude to send him all of the information he’d need for when Oliver paid a visit. Sure enough, there was a message from Jude with several links, all leading to news articles written, starting with Francesca’s disappearance and ending with stories filed in the last twenty-four hours.
Cope dug in. He’d been reading one of the more recent articles when the knock on his door came. “Come in.”
Ten stuck his head in the door. “Oliver Adams is here. I put him in the conference room. The Boston media came with him. The news vans are camped out front. Carson’s losing his mind. He’s worried that the media will be bad for business, but Fitz assured him the opposite is true. We need to be on our toes and not give away any information the police haven’t revealed to the public. Come with me, Ronan wants all hands on deck.”
