“The Salem News did a cover story on the twenty-fifth anniversary of the crime. There had been a prayer vigil and a special mass said at St. Ignatius. There had been a story on the news about the vigil, and reminding people of the facts of the case, and that’s when Jennifer shut off the television and told me she’d been friends with Skye Washington. She wept for the girl.” Blake paused, turning his attention back to Ronan. “In all the years we were married, it was the only time I saw her truly weep for anyone or anything. My wife was a strong woman, but I got the feeling there were secrets hidden deep down that she didn’t trust me with. I assumed they had to do with past loves or maybe some abuse at home, but maybe what she was hiding had to do with Skye’s death.”
“Do you think your wife had anything to do with Skye’s murder?” Ronan was done treating this man gently. There were hard questions he needed to answer.
Anger blazed behind Blake’s dark eyes. “Of course not. I’ve never heard anything so absurd in my life. If you float this theory publicly, you’ll be sorry.” Blake made to stand up.
“Hold on a second, Mr. Blake,” Cisco said, his voice deadly soft. “Your wife was murdered last night. Whoever killed her walked right through your locked gates and up to the house which was unlocked. If you think you can threaten us and walk out the door, you’ve got another think coming.”
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, Chief Jackson. I pay your salary, and if I think it’s time to leave, I’m going to do that very thing. Either arrest me or get out of my way.” Charles straightened his spine. “As for you, Detective O’Mara, or whatever you and your charlatan of a husband call yourselves, I hold you responsible for my wife’s death. If you hadn’t gone poking around in a case that was nearly forty years cold, my wife would be putting the finishing touches on her gala. Instead, I’m planning her funeral.” Without another word, Charles Blake walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
“I’d give his performance a five.” Cisco rolled his eyes.
“Please. I wouldn’t give it that much. He had me on his side when he was telling the story about the wife making him a better man, although I am rather biased in the happily married department.”
“Me too,” Cisco agreed. “Things were going along swimmingly until you asked if Jennifer had anything to do with Skye’s murder. I get him not wanting to taint his dead wife’s legacy if it’s true, but at the same time, the Washingtons need closure here. That’s the number one reason I brought you and your psychic in on this case.” He elbowed Ronan. “I know how much you hate that.”
“It makes it sound like Tennyson is my dog instead of my partner.” Ronan shook his head. Now wasn’t the time or place to worry what a man like Charles Blake thought about him or Ten. They had two murders to solve. “We need to get bank records, phones, and the physical evidence from the scene.”
“I’m two steps ahead of you. My people are working on those things now. With the gala at the end of the week, and a funeral to plan, Charles Blake isn’t going anywhere. He already thinks he’s pulled one over on us, I see no harm in letting him continue to think along that line.”
“What about other suspects? Do we have any information about the household staff or a boyfriend?” Ronan flipped through his notes to see if there were other questions to ask.
“Not everyone is gay, Ronan. I know it seems that way sometimes, but it’s not.”
“Jesus, Cisco, I didn’t mean if Blake had a boyfriend, I meant Jennifer.” It took all his self-control not to roll his eyes at the chief.
“I knew that.” Cisco grinned. “Lighten up, Ronan. We’ve got ourselves a mystery to solve.” The chief grabbed his notepad and headed out of the room.
Ronan found his own smile a minute later. Charles Blake definitely knew more about Skye Washington than he was telling. The interview had been going along peacefully until Ronan suggested it had been Jennifer who’d killed Skye. Now all he had to do was find the connection between the two murders.
22
Tennyson
“Bill nooooo-man!” Everly sang as Tennyson handed her ornaments to hang on the Christmas tree. He’d thought about pulling up his Christmas playlist, but listening to Everly sing, even if it was the same line, was so much better.
While their Little Miss hung the ornaments, Ronan recorded her. “Smile at Daddy, Everly!” Ronan waved to her over his phone.
“Hi, Dada!” Everly toddled over to him. “Petty ‘ismas tee.”
“It is a pretty Christmas tree. You’re doing such a good job hanging the ornaments.” Ronan reached out to tickle her belly, but Everly darted away at the last second, her high-pitched giggle filling the room.
“I petty.” Everly set a hand against her heart. She looked up at Ronan with pure adoration in her blue eyes.
“You are the prettiest little girl in the whole wide world.”
“Ho eye earl!” She threw her arms out. Everly ran back to Ten, holding her dainty hand out for the next ornament, when she apparently changed her mind and darted back to Ronan like a hummingbird. “Hot choccy?” Everly’s serious face broke into a wide smile.
Ronan snorted. “What do you think, Daddy? Should we make hot chocolate?”
“I think so,” Ten agreed. His back was barking from climbing up and down chairs to hang the lights and tinsel. He hadn’t known when Ronan was coming home, and he’d promised Everly they’d decorate the tree. Ronan walked in the door just after he finished hanging the tinsel. He could definitely use a break.
“Yay!” Ronan lifted Everly off the floor and flew her into the kitchen like Supergirl.
Everly was dressed in her Elsa gown and tiara. She looked as if she were on her way to a ball. “How did things go after we split up?” Ten asked after he turned on the electric kettle.
“I have good news and bad news.” Ronan buckled Everly into her highchair before slumping over in his own seat. He looked worn to the bone.
“Let’s hear it.” Ten set a plate of brownies in the center of the table. Kaye had baked them this afternoon while the kids had been napping. Sometimes his mother made him feel like Hansel being fattened up for the witch to feast on.
“The bad news is that we have no breaks in the case yet, but the good news is that we’re going to a ball.” Ronan grabbed a brownie and split it, offering half to Everly and keeping the rest for himself.
“’Um! ‘Um!” Everly dove into her treat with relish. Her mouth was outlined in chocolate after the first bite.
“A ball? What are you talking about?” Ten finished making the hot chocolate, adding an ice cube to Everly’s sippy cup to cool down her hot “choccy.”
Ronan got up from his seat and rifled through a pile of mail on the kitchen island. “This!” Ronan shook the pale-cream envelope over his head.
“Oh no.” Ten had forgotten all about this invitation. It had arrived a few days before Cisco asked Ronan to work on the Skye Washington case. “Jennifer’s Place,” he said quietly. “While we were interviewing her yesterday, it never occurred to me that she was the namesake Jennifer.”