Ghosted, page 12
“Thanks, Aurora.” Everly held the crystal gingerly, as if she were afraid it would break.
“Bring her by the shop, if she’s interested in learning more about crystals and green spells.” Aurora grinned at Cope.
“I’ll have to run that past Ronan.” Ten laughed.
“When you find Jude, thanks to this spell, I’m sure Ronan won’t mind our little Everly learning a bit more about her abilities.” Aurora picked up Cope’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Give Jude my love.”
“I will,” Cope said. He walked Aurora to the door. He pulled out his phone and called Ronan.
“Tell me you found him!” Ronan said, sounding breathless.
“We have an address.” Cope’s entire body buzzed with exhilaration. When he found Jude, the first thing he was going to do was hug him until his arms hurt. The second thing Cope was going to do was buy Everly a pony.
“Meet us at Fitz’s SUV. We’re walking out the door now,” Ronan said.
“Ronan and Fitz are ready to roll.”
“I’ll stay with the kids at my house,” Ten said. He turned to his daughter. “Are you going with Dad and Uncle Fitz?”
Everly shook her head. “My work here is done. It’s up to Cope, Dad and Fitz to bring Uncle Jude home.” She ran to Cope and wrapped her arms around him. “Tell Uncle Jude how much I love him.”
“I will,” Cope agreed, feeling a bit emotional. It had been a long couple of days and he had work yet to do. Shrugging into his coat, Cope went to the front door and ushered Ten and Everly outside. They hurried across the street, where his niece jumped into Ronan’s arms, telling him all about the spell she’d helped to work. Cope watched as Ronan kissed Everly’s head, set her down, turning his attention to finding Jude.
A few minutes later, Cope, Fitz and Ronan got into the vehicle. “What’s the address?” Ronan asked.
“It’s 2258 Milton Street, Salem. We’re looking for a white house with black shutters.” Cope could see Ronan typing the address into his phone.
“I don’t know where Milton Street is, do you?” Ronan asked Fitz.
“I’ve never heard of that road before,” Fitz said, sounding despondant.
Cope hadn’t either.
“Here it is.” Ronan showed his phone screen to Fitzgibbon. “Looks like it’s out past Foster Pond. The area is densely forested.
Fitzgibbon programmed the address into his navigation system and they were off. “Find what you can about the house and who owns it.”
“On it,” Ronan muttered, his fingers already flying over his phone.
Time felt like it was crawling by at a snail’s pace. Cope sat nervously in the backseat waiting for Ronan to get more details about the house.
“Okay, says here that the house used to be owned by a Ferncroft and Marcia Simonson. The husband died in 1986 and the wife in 2004. She died without a will and the property went into probate court, where it stayed because no next of kin could be located. It’s been abandoned ever since.”
“Sounds like the perfect place to hold someone hostage,” Fitz said.
“Makes me wonder if this is the first time Jerry has done something like this,” Ronan mused.
Fitz shook his head. “My instincts tell me no.”
Cope’s gut agreed with Fitzgibbon.
“Do we call Cisco Jackson?” Fitz asked.
Ronan sighed. “I trust Cope’s magic completely, but having said that, I think we should find Jude, then call in the rest of the Salem Police. I’m just thinking that if the address is wrong…”
“If the address is wrong then you’ve wasted time and resources. I get it, Ronan.” Cope understood completely. “Are you armed?”
Fitzgibbon nodded from the front seat. “I’ve got my service piece and a second gun strapped to my right calf and a knife strapped to the other.”
“Same for me,” Ronan said. “When we get there, read the house the best you can. See if there’s anyone home. Then we can make a plan to enter the structure and start kicking ass.”
Cope had no problem with a little ass kicking. He might even get involved himself.
“Keep in mind that we’re going into this house with no warrant,” Fitzgibbon said. “Any evidence we gather can’t be used in court.”
“I’m sure we’ll find some probable cause along the way.” Ronan grinned.
Cope settled back into his seat when Fitzgibbon turned on to Cabot Street. The roads were mostly plowed. What was left behind reminded him of mashed potatoes. He stared out the window and watched Salem fly past his window. No one said a word. Cope knew Ronan and Fitz were busy thinking about how they were going to rescue Jude when the time came. Cope was thinking about what it would feel like to hold his husband in his arms again.
“Okay, turn left here.” Ronan pointed and Fitzgibbon flipped on his blinker
With the storm having passed overnight, the sun was brightly shining. The road they turned down was dark and gloomy. Tree branches arched over the road, blotting out most of the sunlight. He couldn’t imagine how dark this road was at night.
The road twisted and turned. Houses were sporadically spaced, all of them looked like they were in various stages of decomposition. Cope saw the occasional car in a driveway, but it seemed that most of this desolate road was abandoned.
“This is it, up here on the right,” Ronan said.
Fitzgibbon drove past the house, turning around in an empty driveway up the street. He parked the SUV and shut off the ignition. “There are no cars parked at that house and I didn’t see any lights on in the place.”
“If it’s been abandoned since 2004, the power might be off completely,” Ronan said. “Maybe the cars we saw in other driveways belong to Jerry and Betty. If we parked at an abandoned house to stay out of sight, maybe they did too.”
Cope shivered in the backseat. Just the thought of Jude being locked in a basement with no power was the stuff of nightmares, never mind how cold the temperatures had been over the last few days.
“Yeah, maybe.” Fitz parked the SUV and got out. He walked to the back hatch and opened it up. He came back with three Kevlar vests. He handed one to Ronan, one to Cope and kept the last one for himself. When Ronan had strapped his vest on, he opened Cope’s door and helped him out.
“This is Ten’s vest. The two of you are about the same size, so this should fit pretty well.” Ronan slipped it over Cope’s head and fastened the Velcro straps tightly. “You good?”
Cope nodded. His heart was pounding a crazy beat. All he wanted to do was get into that house and find Jude, but knew there were steps they needed to take to keep them all safe. “Tell me what to do.”
“Fitz and I are going to walk around the house, looking for signs of life, then we’ll make entry and head for the basement to find Jude. Do not rush into any room. Let Fitz and I clear them. Stay behind me. Don’t get shot. Got it?”
Cope nodded. He’d never been so afraid in his life, not for himself, but for Jude.
“What is your gift telling you?” Fitz asked.
Taking several deep breaths, Cope managed to calm himself down enough to focus his gift on the house. “There are two people in there. It’s Jerry and Betsy. They’re both in the living room, which is the window on the left. They’re arguing.”
“About what?” Ronan asked.
“Jude. Jerry wants to let him go, but Betsy wants to shoot him. She’s saying that the only way Armstrong will fall in love with her is if she finishes the Beast’s work.” Cope felt sick to his stomach. If they’d arrived any later, it might already be too late. “They want to kill you too, so stay on your toes.”
Ronan nodded sharply. “Do you think we should wait until Jerry leaves to got to the ransom drop?” Ronan asked. “Grab him first and when we’ve got him in handcuffs go in after Betsy?”
It sounded like a sound plan to Cope. Deal with mother-son duo individually, rather than at the same time.
A gunshot broke the silence of the neighborhood.
“So much for best laid plans,” Fitz said, unholstering his gun and running across the street. He kept his head down.
“Stay low and stay behind me,” Ronan said, heading across the street.
There were a lot of scenarios Cope imagined himself in over the years. Winning an Oscar, ice skating for Team USA in the Olympics, being the man in the middle of a lube fueled orgy, but never in his life did he ever dream of running into a house where gunshots had been fired in order to rescue his abducted husband. Yet here he was.
Cope did exactly as Ronan said. He followed behind the detective, using Ronan’s footprints in the newly fallen snow as his guide. He was terrified that the gun shot he’d heard had been Betsy getting her way and killing Jude. He tried reaching out with his gift again, but he wasn’t getting a straight message, what he was seeing appeared scrambled.
Fitzgibbon, raised his right fist and made his way up the snow-covered front steps. Cope had seen enough tv cop shows to know that the fist meant to stay where he was. Cope had no problem obeying that command. He noticed Ronan was positioned at the bottom of the stairs.
Fitz leaned over the side railing leading to the front door, to look into the living room window. Whatever he saw must have been safe because he uncurled his fist and waved Ronan forward. Both men whispered to each other, before Fitz lifted his left leg and kicked the door open. It splintered into pieces. “Salem Police! Hands up!”
Ronan was right behind Fitzgibbon, charging into the house. Two more gunshots were fired in rapid succession. Cope stayed where he was at the base of the stairs, until he heard Fitz shout that Jerry was in custody. Seconds later, Ronan shouted that he’d lost Besty.
Cope took that as his sign to call Cisco Jackson. With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone and pressed the button to dial the chief.
“Cope, tell me you found Jude,” Cisco said, sounding worried.
“We’re at a house on Milton street. One of the last ones at the end of the road, deep in the woods. Ronan and Fitz are inside with Jerry Dunkirk and Betsy Wilcox. Three shots have been fired so far.”
“Do I want to know how you found this house?” Cisco asked.
“Let’s just say I dusted off my cauldron and took it out of storage.”
“I’ll bring the cavalry,” Cisco promised. “Stay safe and out of that house until we get there.”
“You got it,” Cope agreed and ended the call. Cisco Jackson might be the chief of the Salem Police, but he was Jude’s husband. He’d been separated from his husband for long enough. He crept slowly up the stairs and heard the sound of Jerry Dunkirk crying. Slowly peeking around the doorjamb, Cope saw Jerry down on his face on the dirty living room floor, with his hands cuffed behind his back. Fitzgibbon stood in front of him. Cope could hear Ronan shouting for Jude. He wanted to run in there and kick Jerry in the face, but he wouldn’t, not because assault was against the law, but because his gift was giving him new information.
“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 just outside 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 up a 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.
“Thank fuck you’re okay,” Fitz said, choking up.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Jude said. “I’ve spent enough time in this basement to last a lifetime. I was seconds away from that bitch turning me into an Edgar Allen Poe story. Thanks for saving me.”
“You’re welcome, asshole, but I didn’t do it alone.” Ronan gave Jude a shove. “Everly was the one who found you.”
“Everly?” Jude asked.
“She worked the spell with Cope, Ten, and Madam Aurora. None of the others were able to find you, but Everly was. She said something about she and Cope working in our garden together and that’s how she was able to find you.”
Jude nodded. “He taught her all about healing herbs last summer.”
“She’s going to be quite the little garden witch, according to Aurora.” Ronan beamed with pride.
“Tiny but mighty,” Jude agreed. “Let’s go home so I can hug the stuffing out of all the kids.”
“I’d like to remind you that none of this would have been necessary if you’d just kept your stupid dick in your stupid pants.” Ronan waggled his eyebrows.
“I can’t help that I’m the Chris Hemsworth of the group.” Jude snorted and started to laugh.
