Page 10 of Ghostmaker

“Come on up and I’ll introduce you to my team.” Fitz shot Jude and Ronan a warning look before ushering Strickland into the office. “These are my detectives Ronan O’Mara and Jude Byrne.”

“Nice to meet you.” Strickland looked anything but happy to meet them. “Why are we here?” He looked around the office with a sour look on his face.

“You mean metaphysically?” Jude asked. “Like what’s the galaxy’s grand plan for us.”

“No.” Strickland looked Jude up and down. “Why are we here in this psychic shop? Do you all live here or something?”

“Please have a seat, Mr. Strickland.” Fitzgibbon ushered him to the conference table. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Bottle of water?”

“I’m here to do a job, Captain Fitzgibbon.”

“Okay, straight to Final Jeopardy.” Fitz shook his head. “The Cold Case Unit was established several years ago thanks to a grant from the governor.”

Strickland raised an eyebrow. “You mean thanks to the lieutenant governor who used to be the Mayor of Salem.”

Fitz gave a curt nod. “This shop is owned by Carson Craig. Jude’s husband Cope, and Ronan’s husband, Tennyson, are partners in the business and work downstairs doing client readings. This space used to be an apartment, but we turned it into office space for our PI business.”

“PI business?” Strickland pulled out a notebook from his briefcase and began to take notes.

“Jude was a licensed private investigator who would consult on cases from time to time when Ronan and I were still with the Boston Police. After our daughters were born, Ronan and I decided to retire from the BPD and we went into business with Jude. Later, we were asked to partner with the BPD on a cold case and we all realized how much we wanted to get back into police work. That was around the time the grant for this unit came through. They’ve got close quarters at the precinct house, so Chief Jackson gave us permission to run the cold unit out of this office.”

“How much does that cost per month?” Strickland asked.

“Not one cent,” Ronan shot back. “Carson likes having us on premises just in case of trouble and we love working with and near our husbands.”

“Right, your cold case psychic husband, Tennyson Grimm.” Strickland rolled his eyes. “How does that work? Does he only con his customers or families of murder victims too?”

Ronan’s hands fisted. Jude kicked him under the table and shot him a warning look. “Ten became a consultant to the cold case unit when we worked in Boston. He continues in that role here.”

“And he earns a full-time salary, paid for by taxpayer dollars, commensurate with what? How many ‘ghosts’ he speaks to in a month? How many people he cons out of their money? Tell me how this works, Detective O’Mara.”

“This entire unit operates on the grant funds from the state,” Fitzgibbon said, his mouth tight. “We have a ninety-eight percent solve rate. We’ve worked cases as cold as fifty years in this unit. We bring closure and a measure of justice to the families of the murder victims. Tennyson is integral to our team.”

“Because he talks to ghosts and they tell him who killed them.” Strickland rolled his eyes again.

“From what I understood about your role, Mr. Strickland, you are here to audit our department and report your findings back to the mayor and city council as to the feasibility of this unit. You’re here to crunch numbers. Do I have that right?” Jude’s temper was three or four steps shy of blasting off. He knew he needed to calm himself, but this asshole needed to be taken down a peg or two, and Jude was just the man to do it.

“Yes, Mr. Byrne, you have that right.” Strickland’s lips curled into a grimace.

“It’s Detective Byrne,” Jude said through gritted teeth. “For your information, the only overhead for the unit is salary and ammunition. We pay no rent on this office. We buy our own office supplies. We use our own cars and pay for our own gas. The only bill I’ve submitted to the department in the three years I’ve worked here was for a new Kevlar vest, since my old one, paid for by myself, was about to age out of service. Ronan, Fitz, and Ten also got new vests at that time. If memory serves, they cost about one thousand dollars each. The receipt will be in Fitz’s files. So, Mr. Strickland in three years we’ve submitted roughly four thousand dollars in bills to the Salem Police Department. There is no other unit in the department that runs on less money than this one.”

“That was a nice performance, detective, but the fact remains a member of this team is a charlatan and your solve record is dubious at best when compared to the number of cold cases still awaiting resolution.” Strickland flipped to a blank page in his notebook. “Since I’ll be the one to determine the feasibility of this unit, I’ll need you and Detective O’Mara to leave. Captain Fitzgibbon will assist me with whatever I need; financials, case records, and a full accounting of what your cold case psychic actually does.” He made air quotes over Ten’s title.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jude said. “It’s obvious you carry some kind of disdain for members of the psychic community and cold case detectives and therefore are biased against our unit. You might hold the power over this team and its continued place in the Salem Police Department, but if you think I’m just gonna walk away and let you railroad us under the cover of darkness, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Think, Mr. Byrne,” Strickland shot back with a superior look on his face. “The saying is ‘you’ve got another think coming.”

Jude opened his mouth to fire back, but Ronan kicked him back under the table and jumped in. “We have nothing to hide, Mr. Strickland and will be more than happy to provide you with everything you need to do your job, but like Jude said, you have an obvious dislike for the way we utilize Tennyson’s gifts. If you like, I can ask him to come up here and prove his gifts to you.”

“I’ll pass, detective. Chief Cisco Jackson told you about my impending arrival over five hours ago, which has no doubt given your husband ample time to research me and my family. Anything he tells me would be pure and utter bullshit.” Strickland cleared his throat. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get to work. Captain Fitzgibbon, I’ll need your financial accounting for this department for the last three years.”

“Of course, please come into my office and I’ll provide everything you need.” Fitzgibbon showed Strickland into his office without a look back, closing the door harder than necessary.

“What the fuck are we going to do?” Jude asked, his panic rising.

“Step one is not to panic.” Ronan looked as though he were doing that very thing.

“There has to be some way we can help make our case.” Jude’s brain spun so fast that he could hardly catch and hold a thought.