8
Cope
The next morning, Cope stood in the kitchen contemplating what to make the kids for breakfast. He sipped his coffee and went over the events of the night before.
Somehow, Everly had been able to get to the root of West Strickland’s hatred for cold case units in general and got him to promise his review of the department would be done in an unbiased manner.
He couldn’t ask for much more than that.
Cope knew Jude was worried about losing his job with the Salem Police and what would come next.
When his father, Buford, died, he left Cope the entirety of his estate.
Cope hadn’t wanted it at the time, but now, that money tucked away in a separate account accruing interest was a safety net for their family.
He knew Jude would hate sitting around the house all day watching the Food Network and playing games on his phone, but Cope wouldn’t have to worry on a daily basis if his husband was going to get shot at, stabbed, or kidnapped.
All of which had happened to Jude in the past.
Jude had proverbial ants in his pants and wouldn’t take well to having nothing to do all day.
Not to mention how hard it would be for him not to work with Ronan and Fitz any more.
Both men were collecting their pensions from the Boston Police Department and could retire from Salem at any point in time, but Cope knew they were like Jude and wouldn’t want to sit around all day with nothing to do.
What would come next for the detectives if the unit was shut down?
Would they assign Ronan and Fitz to homicide or vice?
From everything Jude said, the three of them being hired to man the fledgling cold case team over tenured, senior detectives within the SPD had ruffled a lot more than feathers.
They’d probably end up working the night shift on patrol, weekends, holidays, you name it, all the shit assignments would come their way until they got fed up and quit.
It was good to be king, but sometimes the peasants rose up and sent the king to the guillotine.
Sighing, Cope decided the kids could have cold cereal. He wasn’t in the mood to fry eggs or to clean up the mess. He grabbed the kids’ favorite cereal along with bowls and spoons and set them on the table.
Making a second cup of coffee, Cope opened the news app on his phone, hoping to catch the weather report for the day. The top headline grabbed his attention. Salem Man Murdered in Home Invasion. Cope tapped the article and started to read.
Father and husband Paul Shea was murdered in his State Street home last night over an apparent robbery gone wrong.
His wife, Carole Shea, found his body in their kitchen when she returned home from her weekly book club.
A call was quickly placed to 911. When paramedics arrived, Mr. Shea was declared dead and transported to the Essex County morgue for autopsy.
The crime scene unit worked deep into the night along with detectives who refused to comment about the crime scene and possible suspects.
This article will be updated when the situation warrants.
Cope shook his head. State Street was near West Side Magick, only a few blocks away from the Salem Witch Museum.
This murder took place in the heart of the city.
He couldn’t help but think these would be the kinds of cases Jude could be working on if the cold case unit was shut down and the detectives reassigned.
The article mentioned that the detectives worked into the night, which would mean Cope would be home, alone, with the kids, not knowing when he’d be home.
Jude would waltz in, asleep on his feet and would have just enough energy left to kiss Cope’s cheek and fall into bed for a few short hours, before getting up and doing it all over again.
Cope remembered what it was like when Ronan and Fitz were still working in Boston.
They were never home. Tennyson got to see Ronan when they worked cases together, but Jace hardly saw Fitzgibbon at all.
In fact, that was the main reason they’d broken up for a time, because Fitz was always on the job.
The one thing Cope was sure of was that he didn’t want to live that kind of life, where Jude could be called out at a moment’s notice and could be home anytime between dinner and 2027.
On the other hand, what else would Jude be happy doing?
He couldn’t imagine his husband dressing in a suit and tie every day to sit in an office and crunch numbers or trade stocks.
Jude would go stir crazy being chained to a desk.
Maybe he could teach at the police academy?
Or enroll in college and get his degree in criminal justice or business or marine biology.
Cope snorted. He supposed Jude wouldn’t be home very much if he were off filming great white shark documentaries in California, South Africa, or Australia.
There was no doubt in Cope’s mind that Jude would study the biggest and most ferocious shark in the sea, rather than taking a slower approach studying turtles or sea anemones.
“What’s so funny?” Jude asked, walking into the kitchen. His skin was still rosy from his shower and his hair damp and curling at his shirt collar.
“The idea of you studying sea anemones.” Cope snickered at the stunned look on Jude’s face.
“What?” Jude set a hand against Cope’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Are you delusional or fantasizing about me in a skin-tight wetsuit?”
“Do you want the long story or shorter version?” Cope wrapped his arms around his husband.
“Long, but with opportunities to stop along the way and ask questions.”
“There’s a story online this morning about a man who was murdered in his home last night.”
“Yeah, the guy lived close to the shop.”
“Right,” Cope agreed. “My mind started to wander about where you, Ronan, and Fitz would end up if the cold case unit was disbanded. The article mentioned how detectives were at the scene all night and I realized those sorts of hours could be in your future. We’d be ships passing in the night and wouldn’t have time to spend together as a family. ”
“I’m with you so far. I’ve had some of the same thoughts myself about my future.” Jude bussed a kiss to Cope’s cheek. “I’m still not seeing where the sea anemones come into play.”
Cope grimaced. He wasn’t looking forward to telling the next part of the story.
“Then, I started wondering what you would do if you had to leave the SPD. My mind went to you taking classes in criminal justice or marine biology and imagined you’d be the renegade, free-swimming with great whites instead of studying sedentary and safe animals like the sea anemone. ”
“For your information, sea anemones sting other fish. We’ve seen Finding Nemo enough times to know that.
So, for your information, it would be dangerous studying anemones.
” Jude got up from the table and grabbed a bowl of his own and filled it full of Cheerios.
“The idea of going to college never crossed my mind.”
“I know you’re not going to like me saying this, but if the unit does close and the SPD lets you go, we have enough money in my Buford account to keep us going for a while.”
“Yeah, into the next millennium.” Jude rolled his eyes.
“My father might have been a dick in life, but his money could do us a world of good now.”
“Cope, you know it isn’t in me to bum around the house watching General Hospital and eating my weight in Barbeque Fritos.”
“I know that, Jude. What I’m saying is that it wouldn’t be an all-out crisis if things ended with the department. You could go to school or volunteer as a room parent at Lizzie’s pre-school, maybe start an OnlyFans page. You wouldn’t have to scramble to find another job.”
“OnlyFans, huh?” Jude grinned. “I bet the money would be rolling in.” Jude flexed his muscles.
“I’d sure as hell sign up for a subscription.” Cope snorted.
“I don’t want to leave the SPD. I’m happy working there.
I’m contributing and making a difference in Salem.
This is the first place I ever felt like I belonged.
This is my home and I feel good about making this city safer for our neighbors and kids.
If I had to leave, I don’t know how I’d recover from that. ”
Cope pulled Jude back into his arms. “We’ll figure it out together.”
“I have the best job in the world. Screwing off with my best friends every day. Solving cases. Arresting dirtbags. Making fun of Ronan. I’ll never find anything close to that ever again. Do you see anything about this? How it’s going to go or if Strickland is going to screw us over?”
“I keep seeing shifting results. One minute the department is saved, the next minute, its being dissolved. I do know that Cisco and Fitz are going to fight like hell to keep from letting that happen, but ultimately the final decision lies with the mayor and the city council.”
“Thanks to Everly, we know why Strickland was against keeping the cold case team. Do you think it’s something similar with the mayor?”
“Maybe.” Cope sighed. He wasn’t seeing anything in regard to the mayor’s thought process.
“The one thing voters love is lower taxes. Usually, you see things like infrastructure projects or teachers being cut from the budget. This is different. With the current political climate, I can see voters wanting to make policing smaller, with fewer officers on the street.”
“We’re not on the street.”
“I know.” Cope patted Jude’s shoulder. “But it’s not like they can cut vice, right?
People would be outraged if cops stopped arresting drug dealers and people who manufacture meth.
Your department deals with old crimes. With killers who’ve passed out of recent memory.
In all fairness, if a department is going to be cut, cold case would do the least amount of damage to public trust, while satisfying people who think they pay too much in taxes anyway. ”
“I hate to admit it, but you’re right.” Jude poured his cereal and added milk.
Cope hated the look on his husband’s face. Jude looked as if the battle was already lost. “I have an idea.”
“You think we should become pearl divers in Bora Bora?” Jude’s eyes glowed with excitement.
“That’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had.
” Cope grinned. “I was thinking more along the lines of you and Ronan going through your cases and making a slide show or something highlighting cases you solved and the innovations or what not that you used to find and arrest the killers. This information could be attached to Strickland’s recommendation. ”
Jude nodded. “I’ll mention that to Ronan and Fitz. Do you know what Strickland is going to do when it comes to cold case?”
“I don’t. His emotions were all over the place last night. He vacillated between being angry, grief-stricken, skeptical, hopeful. You name it, he felt it. I imagine he’s waking up confused this morning.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He’s hated psychics for the last fifteen years.
Strickland might not have been so fond of them before his mother’s murder, but he sure as hell hated us when he arrived here last night.
Listening to him talk, it sounds as though his contempt and loathing for cold case detectives has grown through the years.
Last night, he got a glimpse of how those two things could work together to find the answer to his questions about his mother.
It’s not easy confronting the fact that everything you thought you knew isn’t as true as you thought it was. ”
“You want to run that by me again?” Jude asked, shoving more cereal into his mouth.
“Remember that documentary we watched a few weeks ago about that cult?”
Jude nodded.
“When the cult members finally found out that they’d been scammed all along, they looked like they didn’t know how to move on. Life in the cult was all they knew. Some of them thought the police were lying about the leader and the atrocities that happened behind closed doors.”
“You think that’s what Strickland might be feeling?”
Cope nodded. “I think up feels like down this morning. Tread lightly and do whatever you can to help him without making him feel pressured to rule in your favor. You’ve got charm out the wazoo, Jude. Use it.”
“I’ll get together with Ronan and Fitz and see what they think about a strategy going forward.” Jude slurped down the remaining milk in his bowl. “I’ll go wake the rugrats.” He pressed a kiss to Cope’s forehead. “Thank you for letting me know you wouldn’t think less of me if I lost this job.”
“I could never think less of you, babe.” Cope watched as Jude left the kitchen with a little more pep in his step than he’d had earlier.
He’d been telling the truth when he’d said that the future kept vacillating between the department remaining open or being shuttered.
What Cope hadn’t told Jude was the majority of time the needle landed on closing the unit.
Cope knew if anyone could change his own destiny it was Jude. In fact, he’d bet the house on his husband.