Was it possible that Cisco had killed four prisoners and the chief of police? Tennyson had never sensed anything off with Cisco. He’d trusted the man in his home, with his kids. There would have been something Ten would have picked up over the last seven years, right?
“I’m not finding a cause of death for the former chief. We’ll have to do a deeper dive,” Ronan said.
“Hold on a second,” Jude interrupted. “What about Cisco? What information did you find out on him?
“The chief has been with the department for almost thirty years. Married. One adopted child with a second adoption in the works. Has no credit cards. House and vehicles are paid in full. He’s well-liked by almost everyone who works for him,” Ash said.
“I sense a ‘but’ coming on.” Jude steepled his hands in front of his face.
“The chief is living above his means. Drives a Mercedes, husband has a new SUV. There have been lavish vacations, home remodels. None of those things on their own is incriminating, but taken together with him having zero debt is concerning.”
“It’s even more concerning when you add the information about the murders along with Fallon and McBain’s gravy train running dry.” Ronan shook his head. He looked as confused as Ten felt.
Tennyson’s head was spinning. This couldn’t be happening. There had to be another explanation. It wasn’t possible that Cisco Jackson was a criminal mastermind with boatloads of cash dealing in murder for hire.
Or was it?
11
Ronan
After the meeting with Bradford Hicks and Ashton Dokes wrapped up, everyone had gone home for the night. Ronan helped Ten cook dinner. He played with the kids and put them to bed. All the while feeling like he was unmoored from his life. He had a feeling Jude and Fitz felt the same way. None of them had been angry at Tennyson for consulting with Jude’s former boss. They’d gotten a lot of good intel, unfortunately most of it pointed to Cisco as the killer.
Fitzgibbon had sent a late night text letting Ronan and Jude know that they’d be going to see Fallon Kirkpatrick and Duncan MacBain in the morning. Even with a plan of action in place, Ronan spent the night tossing and turning.
When he met up with Jude and Fitz, both men looked like they hadn’t gotten any sleep either. As it had been the day before, no one spoke while Fitzgibbon drove.
“Ten, have you got anything on this case?” Fitzgibbon asked.
“I don’t. That’s part of the reason I called Brad. I’m hoping I’ll learn more when we meet with Kirkpatrick. He doesn’t know we’re coming, so hopefully his guard will be down.”
“I was thinking the same thing about Kirkpatrick, but I meant if you had anything about Cisco?” Fitzgibbon’s voice was ragged. “It’s just that we’ve known him for years. I like to think that our instincts are finely tuned like your gift. How the hell could we all have missed this?”
Ronan understood exactly what Fitz was getting at. He’d felt the same way himself. Unfortunately, he had no answers either.
“I’ve never seen anything in Cisco that would point to him possibly having been a killer or a criminal mastermind. All I’ve ever read from him was a desire to help his community, to catch criminals who hurt the people of Salem, and miles and miles of frustration dealing with Ronan.”
Ronan snorted and started to laugh.
“But let’s be honest,” Ten continued, “The same is true for everyone here.”
Fitz chuckled along with Ten, but his laugh didn’t reach his eyes.
“Here’s the thing, Fitz. None of us know if Cisco is involved in any of the things we’ve uncovered over the last few days, but you all have been acting like you’re sitting shiva, waiting for the worst to happen. If this were any other murder case, you wouldn’t let your feelings get in the way of finding the killer. You also wouldn’t mope around like kids who got coal in their Christmas stockings. I hate to say this, but you all need to take your heads out of your asses and buck up. With all of these clues pointing toward Cisco, you three are the only ones who can figure out what really happened to the victims. The only thingworse than our friend being a killer, would be Cisco going to prison for crimes hedidn’tcommit.”
“Get our heads out of our asses?” Jude asked, on a snicker.
“Ronan’s is so far up there, he can see Uranus!” Fitz chirped.
“Agreed! Just make sure you get your own head out before you attempt to help Ronan, you know like when the flight attendant tells you to put on your own oxygen mask before you help the people near you.”
Ronan didn’t mind being the literal butt of Ten’s joke if it meant the team was back to firing on all cylinders. Ten was right, they had spent the last two days being afraid of where the evidence would lead. In all his years in law enforcement, Ronan had never approached a case like that before. He’d be damned if he start now.
Everyone was still laughing when Fitzgibbon pulled into the parking lot of the building that housed the City of Salem’s Public Defender’s Office.
“We’re going to go in there to talk to Kirkpatrick about his dead clients. I want to hear what he has to say before we tell him that these men didn’t die accidentally. Ten, if you get anything from your gift, don’t hesitate to jump in and ask a question.”
“You got it,” Ten said.
