5
Ronan
The Robinson house was at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac. There wasn’t the usual gang of kids riding bikes or shooting hoops like Ronan expected for this sort of neighborhood. He supposed the couples who lived here had raised their kids and were now empty-nesters.
“You ready?” Ronan asked. “It’s been a while since the two of us worked a case without Fitz.”
Jude rolled his eyes. “I guess that means you think you’re in charge.”
“That thought never crossed my mind.” Ronan waggled his eyebrows and got out of the SUV. He held the door open for Ten and helped him out.
“Yeah, sure it didn’t.” Jude snickered and followed behind.
“Are you getting anything?” Ronan asked. He hated when Ten’s gift wasn’t working at full power. Not only did he feel behind the eight ball, but didn’t like how upset Ten got when he felt like he wasn’t pulling his weight.
“Not really,” Ten said. “Seems like a pretty quiet morning.”
“That won’t be the case for long with Ronan around.” Jude chimed in.
Ronan noticed the Robinsons’ front yard was neatly mowed in precise lines. Blooming hydrangea bushes with their bright blue flowers lined the front of the house on either side of the stairs. He rang the doorbell and pulled out his badge.
The door was opened by a woman wearing white capri pants and a bright pink shirt. Her blonde hair hung to her shoulders in soft waves. “Aren’t you all a little old to be selling popcorn for the Boy Scouts?”
Ronan held up his badge. “I’m Detective Ronan O’Mara and these are my partners, Detective Jude Byrne and Tennyson Grimm.”
“You’re with the police?” She took a step back, a hand fluttering to her mouth. “Is it Trina? Is my daughter okay?”
“Your daughter is fine, Mrs. Robinson, but we do need a minute of your time. If we could come in?”
“Yes, of course. Let me guess, this has to do with my ex-husband?” Not bothering to wait for an answer, Janet ushered them into the house. “Steve! Put on some pants. The police are here to see us.”
“The police?” a voice shouted from the second floor. “Jesus Christ, again?”
Ronan heard thumping and seconds later, heavy footfalls on the stairs.
Steve Robinson was a heavyset man with salt and pepper hair and blue eyes. “What’s going on? Is it one of the kids?”
“No, Mr. Robinson,” Ronan said. He quickly introduced Ten and Jude. “Why don’t we all have a seat?”
Janet led the detectives into the dining room. “Can I get you coffee or tea?”
“No thank you,” Jude said. “The reason that we’re here has to do with Paul Jones.”
Steve sighed. “Of course it does. What’s he saying I’ve done this time? Am I kicking puppies and pushing old ladies into traffic?”
Ronan narrowed his eyes. “Explain that to me. Has Warden Jones been making false accusations against you?”
Robinson nodded. “It’s been going on for about six months now. He wants Janet to leave me and figures she’ll go back to him if I end up in jail.”
“I won’t,” Janet said. “Paul was a workaholic when we were married, which I could have lived with, but then he started treating me like I was one of his inmates. He’d search my things, order me around, take away privileges.
Or at least he tried to. That act got old real fast. I took our daughter and left him.
Steve and I met at a high school softball game.
It turned out our girls played on the same team.
We kept things low-key until the kids graduated.
We’ve been married for ten years now and have two grandkids. ”
“I don’t mean to contradict you, Mr. Robinson,” Jude began, “but we ran you and your wife through our database and found nothing but a few speeding tickets. There was nothing about charges being filed against either of you.”
“That’s because the cops saw through the warden’s bullshit the minute they spoke with us.
No charges were ever filed. The last time the police were here they advised us that we could file harassment charges against Paul.
We considered it, but with him being a former prison warden, we figured the deck would be heavily stacked against us. ”
“We have copies of all the police reports Paul has filed. Would you like to see them?”
“Yes, please.” Ronan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Warden Jones was employing a smear campaign against his ex-wife’s husband. “Are you getting anything?” he asked Ten when the couple got up from the table.
Ten leaned closer to Ronan. “She’s telling the truth. All they want to do is live their lives in peace. Carson was wrong when he said the warden had a chance with his ex. Janet won’t leave Steve under any circumstance.”
“That’s the impression I got too. Jude, what about you?”
“Same. Look around this room.” He pointed to the collage of family pictures on the wall. “Graduations, birthdays, Christmases, school dances. This family is the Brady Bunch. A perfectly blended, happy family.”
“Okay, here we go.” Janet came back into the dining room with a manila folder. “These are the reports from the last month or so. Steve is printing you out the notes he took when Paul sent police officers to his workplace.”
Ronan’s eyes widened. “The warden sent men to intimidate your husband?”
“Yes, they were in uniform with badges and guns. If this harassment keeps up, Steve’s going to lose his job. He’s only two years away from retirement. He’s been with this company since college and has a pretty hefty benefits package and a pension that he’d lose if he were fired.”
“That sounds like motive to me,” Jude said.
“Motive for what?” Janet asked, looking confused.
“I don’t only work with the Salem Police, Mrs. Robinson,” Ten began, “I’m a psychic at West Side Magick. Several hours ago, Warden Jones came into the shop screaming about how someone was going to kill him at midnight. He was begging for our help to identify the person who was coming for him.”
“None of this makes any sense,” Steve said. He set a second folder in front of Ronan. “Unless of course he’s set it up to look like I’m the potential murderer. God, will this bullshit ever end?”
Ronan picked up the folder of police reports and started thumbing through them.
Accusations had been made against Steve for benign things like jaywalking or double parking, but quickly branched into more serious potential charges for theft, trespassing, and domestic abuse against Janet.
The most serious charge accused Steve of being involved in a hit and run accident.
“These are some pretty serious police reports, especially the hit and run.”
“All of them are baseless. The police officers who came to the house knew that, but had to check out the allegations, which I understand, but when is enough, enough?” Steve took a deep breath.
“I’m a law abiding citizen. I pay my taxes, coach my company’s softball team.
I love my wife, our kids and grandkids. I would never raise a hand against them or Paul. ”
Ronan nodded. He got that same impression from Steve Robinson. He grabbed the second folder filled with Steve’s notes and was appalled by the accounts of armed men visiting him at work, threatening him if he didn’t divorce Janet.
“Do either one of you know how to write in calligraphy?” Jude asked, seemingly out of the blue.
“What?” Steve asked, wearing a confounded look. “I would have no idea how to do that.”
“Same here,” Janet said. “My handwriting is horrible and I can’t draw worth shit. My stick people don’t even look like stick people. Why are you asking?”
“The letter Paul brought to us this morning was written in calligraphy.” Ronan showed Janet the picture he’d taken with his phone.
“…for you die when the midnight bell tolls.” Steve shook his head. “What kind of fucked up bullshit is this? You said you’re a psychic, Tennyson. Couldn’t you tell Paul was lying when he visited your shop?”
“I wasn’t able to get a lot of information from him thanks to how agitated he was. What I can tell you is that he seemed genuinely scared.”
“He always seems genuinely scared,” Janet said on a sigh. “He tells me all the time how scared he is that something is going to happen to me at Steve’s hands. To be honest, I’m more afraid of something happening to me at Paul’s.”
Ronan felt the same way. He stood up from the table and pulled a business card out of his wallet.
“We’re sorry to have bothered you this morning.
Please feel free to call me if there’s anything I can do to help with Paul.
You both might want to apply for protection orders, and you need to keep track of his stalking behavior. ”
“Thank you, Detective O’Mara. We appreciate your time.” Janet led them back to the front door and set a hand on Ten’s shoulder. “My youngest daughter has been trying to get pregnant for the last six years. She and her husband are on their last round of IVF. Is it going to work?”
Ten burst out laughing. “Is it ever! Do you want to hear the details or do you want to be surprised?”
“I want the details.”
“Quadruplets!” Ten gushed. “Three girls and one boy. You better get some sleep now because you’re going to need it helping to care for those babies.”
Janet hugged Tennyson. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome. Baby news is always my favorite to deliver.” Ten grinned brightly. He was seemingly back to his old self.
“Like I said, call me if there’s anything we can do.” Ronan held the door for Ten and Jude before walking out of the house.
“What do you think?” Jude asked when they were settled into the SUV.
“I think the letter is a hoax. The warden might not have written it himself, but he’s definitely behind it.” Ronan hated to say it, but Paul Jones was full of shit. “This is just the latest act of a man desperate to get something he can’t have.”
“I hate when fuckers won’t take no for an answer,” Jude said, angrily.
“What about you, Ten? Aside from news about the upcoming baby boom, did you get anything about the warden or the letter?”
“For me, it’s still blurry. I could feel the anger and need for revenge coming from the police reports and Steve’s file of notes, but the warden himself is still a bit out of focus. Most likely because of how upset he was this morning.”
For all his experience in law enforcement, Ronan hadn’t seen a smear campaign this sinister in a while.
With Fitzgibbon on vacation, he was going to get with Cisco and let him make the final determination of what to do about Warden Jones and the letter.
The last thing he needed was to end up with the warden’s blood on his hands.