Chapter 3
Fitzgibbon
Bo-HEN-ian Rhapsody
Jace hadn’t been any more impressed by the idea of Fitz posing for the beefcake calendar than Tennyson and Cope.
Not that Fitz minded. The idea of a man his age posing for anything with his shirt off defied the laws of gravity and good sense, but if Cisco wanted him to participate, he would.
Fitz had always been a team player, even when it was to his own detriment.
He supposed the meeting with the Chief of the Salem Police was the chickens coming home to roost.
When Fitz, Ronan, and Jude arrived for the meeting, Cisco was behind closed doors with the captain of homicide. Jude paced the hallway, while Ronan sat beside Fitz. He appeared to be doomscrolling on his phone. “What’s Jude’s deal?”
Ronan looked up from his phone. “He’s convinced this is all a put up job. That there is no calendar and that Cisco has something far more serious to talk to us about.”
Fitz frowned, the idea that the calendar might not be legit never crossed his mind. He shook his head. “No way. If Cisco wanted to talk to us about something important, he’d just call a meeting.”
Jude hurried toward Fitz. “Cisco knows we tell our husbands everything and even if we didn’t, Cope and Tennyson would read you and Ronan and know instantly what was going on.”
Ronan nodded, seeming to warm to Jude’s theory. “Ten’s always saying that you leak information like a sieve, so it makes sense Cisco wouldn’t tell us what was really going on.”
Thankfully, the door to Cisco’s office opened and Heath Collins, head of homicide, walked out the office. “Hey, guys.” Heath grinned at Fitz and headed off on his merry way.
“Come in, Fitz!” Cisco shouted from his office chair.
“Keep calm, no matter what Cisco tells us. Let me do the talking.” Shit, now Jude and Ronan had Fitz nearly convinced the calendar shoot was a ruse for something bigger, and undoubtedly more dangerous. He walked into Cisco’s office with Ronan behind him. Jude shut the door.
Fitz studied Cisco as the others took a seat and Ronan pulled out his ever-present notebook. There was nothing on the chief’s face or in his voice that gave anything away. Fitz wished Ten had been invited to the meeting, he would have known exactly what was about to happen.
“Good morning, cover boys!” Cisco grinned as he appeared to study his detectives. “Why the long faces? I thought you’d all be bursting with pride over being chosen to represent the Salem Police Department.”
“Wait,” Fitz said, leaning forward, “this calendar thing is real? It’s not some put up job to keep us, and our husbands, from knowing what this meeting is really all about?”
“Put up job? Who came up with that dumbass idea?” Cisco asked, his eyes on Ronan.
“Not guilty, your honor!” Ronan pointed to Jude.
Jude chuckled. “I’ve got a buddy who’s with the Massachusetts State Police, who said independent investigators are going through their shift hours line by line.
We all know about the overtime scandal plaguing the state police and I wondered if something like that was happening here.
” Jude looked at Fitz. “The entire department knows how much you trust the three of us, and I just figured if there was something going down within the department, a fox in the henhouse, so to speak, we’d be the ones you’d turn to for help. ”
Listening to Jude explain his theory made it sound less crazy.
Fitz couldn’t help remembering it was due to their investigation of Cisco’s former partner that caused the latest scandal in the SPD.
The last thing any of them needed right now was another incident that threw the integrity of the department into question.
“There’s nothing going down in the department.” Cisco shook his head. “I was dead serious when I said you three are being asked to pose for a beefcake calendar. It’s called Laying Down the Law and will feature members of law enforcement from around eastern Massachusetts.”
“I told you guys the photo shoot was legit.” Fitz rolled his eyes. Usually it was Ronan who came up with feather-brained ideas. Jude being the one to come up with this humdinger was a surprise.
Jude’s ramrod straight posture sagged. “No offense, Cap, but I just had this feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
I mean, seriously, we’re all over forty.
Who the hell would want us slicked up in oil and flexing our muscles, when there are plenty of younger guys fresh out of the academy with six-pack abs, stacked biceps, and bulging-”
Fitz slapped a hand over Jude’s mouth. The last thing he needed was Jude talking about bulging cocks in front of the chief.
Jude ripped Fitz’s hand away. “I was going to say bulging pecs. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Fitz didn’t need Tennyson’s psychic gift to know Jude was full of shit. He turned back to Cisco who wore an odd smile. Obviously Cisco knew what Jude had been about to say as well. “When and where do we need to show up for the photo shoot?”
Cisco’s smile grew as he leafed through several folders on his desk.
He snagged the one at the bottom of the pile and opened it.
“Ah, here we go. The shoot takes place on Wednesday at half past nine in the morning. The photographer sent me a note to tell you to make sure you’ve eaten and are well hydrated.
He also said to wear tight, form-fitting jeans or denim overalls if you have them.
” Cisco paused, looking over all three of his future cover boys.
“Oh, and one last thing, Ronan, you’ll need to take Benadryl before you show up. ”
“Benadryl?” Ronan asked. “Why the hell would I need to take allergy meds for a beefcake photo shoot?”
“I didn’t even know you had allergies,” Fitzgibbon said, a feeling of unease creeping down his spine.
“It’s never come up. The only thing I’m allergic to are feathers.” Ronan wore a confused look.
“Feathers?” Jude’s mouth hung open.
Cisco snorted and started to laugh.
“I fucking knew there was something hinky about this whole thing.” Jude crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t make me hurt you, Cisco. What the fuck is going on here?”
“I think you mean, what the cluck is going on here?” Cisco slapped his hand on his desk and laughed harder. He handed Fitzgibbon a piece of paper from the open folder.
“Welcome to Laying Down the Law,” Fitzgibbon read aloud, “A calendar featuring Massachusetts’s top cops and the chickens who love them.”
“Chickens?” Ronan asked and promptly sneezed, as if the mere mention of barnyard fowl set off his allergy.
“Oh, did I forget to mention that the shoot takes place at Battenburg Farm?” Cisco snickered at the shocked look on Ronan’s face. “You always act like you’re the cock of the walk. I figured this shoot was right up your street.”
Ronan got up from his chair and marched to the door. “Un-fucking-believable!” He yanked open the door and strode into the hallway.
“Don’t you mean un-clucking-believable?” Cisco called after Ronan.
Jude shook his head, shot Cisco a look that could kill, and followed Ronan out the door.
With all the chaos swirling around him, Fitzgibbon continued reading the information about the calendar. It was being sponsored by the Massachusetts Farm Bureau and all proceeds would go to local food banks. As hard as Fitz tried, he couldn’t be upset by the premise.
“What do you say, Fitz are you still in?” Cisco asked, when he’d finally gotten control of himself.
“Yeah, I’m in. There are a lot worse ways to be immortalized.” There were also a lot better ways, but Fitz wasn’t going to split feathers at this point.
“You think you can get those two chicken shits back on board?” Cisco snorted and started laughing again.
Folding the paper into quarters, Fitz stuck it in his back pocket. Getting Ronan and Jude to pose for a charity calendar would be the easy part. Keeping them from killing their fellow officers over the metric shit ton of chicken jokes coming their way, was another story.