Author: Pandora Pine
Category: LGBT
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/pandora-pine/page,13,465324-dead_to_the_world_cold_case_psychic_book_10.html
“She’s good people,” Clemente slurred. “If not, Abruzzi would already be dead. She knew where he was being…” Cruz’s head slumped against Faulkner’s shoulder. He let out a loud snore.
“Hey!” Ronan slapped the side of his face. Hard. Of course, the only empty seat at the table was next to the man Ronan wanted punch into next week. “Wake the fuck up, asshole!”
“Jesus, Ronan, the man’s been shot. Give him a break.” Faulkner offered Clemente a sip of coffee, which he ended up dribbling down his chin. Faulk mopped up the mess with a nearby napkin.
“Give him a break?” Ronan thundered. “He threatened to throw my husband in jail and keep him from our daughter! All over a secret I would have kept until my dying day!”
Cruz blinked a couple of times at Ronan. “Your grief kept Tony alive.” Clemente turned from Ronan and offered Faulk a half-drunk smile. “He’s pretty, but dumb as rocks.”
Faulkner snorted. “I know, Cruz. Come on, drink some more coffee. The doctor said the anesthesia should wear off completely soon enough.” He held the cup up to the FBI agent’s lips so he could take a sip.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean that I’m dumb as rocks. And why the fuck are you coddling him, Faulk? Jesus!” Ronan ran a hand through his hair. He really didn’t have the patience for this shit right now.
“This attitude isn’t getting us anywhere, Ronan.” Fitzgibbon sounded testy.
Faulkner held up a hand to Kevin. “Dragonni’s men were watching you, Ronan. We knew that would happen. The FBI is famous for faking deaths of mob informants and putting them into WITSEC. It had to look authentic. We all knew you’d keep the secret. What we didn’t know was if you could play the role of grief-stricken ex-partner. We knew Carlie could pull it off since she would actually be without her husband and the emotion of lying to her children would wreck her to the point of it being believable to outside eyes. There wasn’t enough time to figure out if you were the next Meryl Streep or not.”
Ronan’s gut was burning with anger. Faulkner Hayes was quickly sprinting to the top of the list of people he wanted to punch into next week. “So, you offered Tennyson Sophie’s Choice?” His voice was cold. Deadly. He and Faulk had gotten close during the original Dragonni investigation over the summer. He knew Fitzgibbon was eyeing him for a spot in the Cold Case Unit once Ronan’s promotion to sergeant came through. The last thing he wanted to do was muddy those waters for Fitzgibbon, but at the moment, all he could see was red where Faulkner was concerned.
“It wasn’t my decision, Ronan. It was the FBI. I was caught in the middle as much as Tennyson was.” Faulk sighed. “We’re getting off course here. The point is that Cruz knew the Dragonni Family would be watching. They’ve kept you all under surveillance since the funeral. It’s how they knew Tennyson was alone and vulnerable this morning.”
A growl tore from Ronan’s throat. “How do you know that, Faulk? Are you still working with them?”
Faulkner shook his head. “No, but I know how they operate.”
“Cisco Jackson sent me the traffic cam footage from this morning, Ronan. The black Cadillac that took Tennyson had been seen driving through our neighborhood from as early as 5:30am,” Fitzgibbon said.
“And no one called it in?” Ronan thundered. Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell was wrong with people?
Carson set a hand on Ronan’s arm. “Bertha and Stephanie are sick. I was up half the night with them. This is Truman’s morning to be at the bakery with Cassie doing inventory and ordering supplies for next month, so I let him sleep until hid alarm went off while I took care of the babies. Even if our girls weren’t sick, Ronan, I guarantee that we wouldn’t have been sitting in the living room window monitoring traffic through the neighborhood and neither would you.”
Ronan felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. “You’re right, Carson. I’m sorry. I feel so guilty for leaving Ten alone last night and I’m taking it out on everyone else. What’s our plan here?” He turned to Fitzgibbon, praying he had some idea of where to start.
“Cisco is trying to work on additional traffic cam footage to track where that Cadillac went. He’ll be back in touch with us when he has news. Next, Cruz has messages out to the Marshalls who are in charge of Tony, but hasn’t heard back.” Kevin sighed and reached for his own coffee.
“What do you mean you haven’t heard back? Does that mean they’re dead too, like Lauren Dawes?” Ronan felt himself spiraling down into a full-blown panic attack. He knew he needed to stay on top of his emotions but he just felt control of this situation slipping further and further away.
“Hold on, Ronan. If Dragonni knew where Tony was, there wouldn’t have been a need to kidnap Tennyson.” Faulkner had a soothing tone to his voice.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” Dragonni could just be covering all bases. At this point the mob boss had nothing left to lose. The only thing left for Dragonni to do was getting revenge on the people who brought him down. “What reasons would there be for the Marshalls to not respond to you, Clemente?”
Cruz blinked several times looking like he had no idea what planet he was on momentarily. “I don’t know. They could possibly think I was compromised or they’re too busy trying to keep the Abruzzis on the move.”
“Carlie’s with him?” Ronan felt his stomach turn at the thought of one more innocent person being in the line of fire. Ordinarily, Dragonni didn’t go after families, but at this point, he might be past the point of reason and would just be out for vengeance at any cost, especially where he’d truly been fooled into thinking Tony was dead. Ronan had seen the look on Dragonni’s face when Tony walked into that courtroom. Vito had been just as shocked as he was.
“I would imagine so. She seemed pretty reluctant to leave Tony’s side yesterday after the judge put the court into recess.” Clemente yawned. His color was awful. The man looked like he could sleep for a week. Ronan still wanted to punch him.
Hearing that made Ronan feel worse. “That means we need to get to them now.”
“Ronan, the Marshalls know how to do their job.” Fitzgibbon looked tapped out as well. Ronan was guessing his boss hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night either.
“Were they even notified that Dragonni escaped?” Ronan was staring Clemente down. Regardless of the fact that the FBI agent had taken a bullet to stop Dragonni’s hired hands from grabbing the mob boss out of FBI custody, Ronan still wanted to punch the bastard in the face for what he did to Tennyson.
“What part of, ‘I don’t know’, are you not getting, O’Mara?” Clemente’s dark stare was boring a hole into Ronan.
Ronan was out of his chair and grabbing Clemente by his shirt collar before he knew what he was doing. “Listen to me, you son-of-a-bitch, you’re the reason we’re all in this mess to begin with. Your obsession with Dragonni is the reason that Tony ended up in Witness Protection and my husband had to choose between our daughter and lying to me for five months. Why?”
“Ronan, stop.” Jude was behind Ronan pulling him back from Clemente.
Ronan felt himself sag back against Jude who was thankfully holding him up. He let himself rest back against the P.I. who was holding him tight. He let Clemente go, feeling some measure of satisfaction as the man slumped back into his seat.
Clemente looked up at Ronan. Pain ran deep in his dark eyes. “Dragonni murdered my brother.”
24
Tennyson
Marco set two huge bags of food in front of Tennyson. “Eat up,” he ordered. There was also a drink caddy with two chocolate milkshakes.
Tennyson unpacked the first bag which held two spicy chicken sandwiches and two orders of fries. While he tore into the first sandwich, Paulie was standing in front of him trying to get the get foil seal off an enormous bottle of Advil. Once he’d broken through, he set four gel-caps next to Tennyson.
He wasted no time in taking them with a huge swallow of the milkshake. The cold of the drink felt so good on his raw throat. He took
a few more swallows before grabbing a handful of waffle fries.
While Marco had been gone, Tennyson had started to feel a bit more like his old self and by old self that meant that his head wasn’t pounding like a kettle drum in the Boston Symphony Orchestra. He’d been able to calm himself down a bit more and knew that Ronan and the others would be trying to find him.
Now that he was able to think more clearly, he’d been constantly reaching out to Carson. So far Carson hadn’t responded. Ten had also been reaching out to Bertha Craig, Erin O’Mara, and the rest of his spirit guides, but he wasn’t getting any response. It didn’t mean his gift was on the blink, but it wasn’t the most encouraging sign either. He’d also been doing what Marco and Paulie brought him here to do which was trying to locate Tony Abruzzi.
Ten realized the reason he’d been grabbed was to help Dragonni track down where Tony Abruzzi was being held. It hadn’t clicked with him earlier, being that he’d been scared shitless and his head had been pounding, but if he’d been grabbed for that express purpose, it meant Dragonni was able to get orders out to his men. That wasn’t supposed to be possible.
There were only two ways Tennyson figured Dragonni had been able to pull that off. Either the mob boss had someone on the inside getting messages out through his defense team, or worse, out through the prosecution. Or, somehow, The Dragon had managed to get free himself and was back in charge of his own operation.
Choking down the sandwich, Ten noticed the two men staring at him. “What?”
“Well, is it working?” Paulie asked. He shot Marco a nervous look.
Raising an eyebrow, Ten looked back and forth between the men. He had a feeling their ability to deliver him and the information on Tony to Dragonni could very likely be a life or death matter for the two of them. Ten didn’t like either man, but didn’t want to see them die over him either. “It doesn’t work like that. My gift isn’t something that turns on and off like the kitchen light.”
“It’s bullshit, man.” Marco waved a dismissive hand in Tennyson’s direction. He reached for the second bag of food and grabbed a sandwich for himself before passing the greasy sack to Paulie.
“If it’s bullshit then how do I know your mother played the Marco Polo game with you when you were little?” Ten took a big sip from his milkshake. He felt the sugar hit his system instantly. He was starting to feel more like himself now that he had actual food in his system.
“Give me a break. My name is Marco, that’s an easy one to figure out.” The mobster rolled his eyes.
“Okay, fair enough.” Ten went back to forcing down more of the chicken sandwich. He chewed thoughtfully for a minute. “What about the fact that she thanks you for slipping her favorite blue rosary into her coffin right before it was sealed for good.”
Marco’s mouth fell open. “There’s no way you could know that.”
Ten thanked God for spending a few moments with Marco’s mother while he had the chance. “She was sitting in the front seat of the Cadillac when you grabbed me this morning. Bianca was telling me all about it before Paulie hit me in the head and everything went dark.” Ten shrugged.
“You’re saying that my mother’s ghost was in the car with us today. Riding shotgun?” Marco still wore a look that said he wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that what Tennyson was saying was on the level.
Ten nodded. “The spirits of our loved ones are with us all the time, Marco. Sinner or saint, they stay with us. She’s hoping you’ll turn your life around.” That was certainly true enough. Bianca had said repeatedly what a good boy her Marco was and how she couldn’t believe her son had fallen in with these clowns. It was her greatest wish that he’d clean up his act and get his life together.
“Yeah, well, if you don’t tell us where the fuck Tony Abruzzi is, I’m going to be joining her on the other side much sooner than either one of us bargained for.” Marco’s dark eyes dialed in on Tennyson. “Enough of the bullshit. We fed you and medicated you. Do your fucking voodoo already and figure out where he is!”
Ten took a deep breath. He knew there wasn’t much point in stalling any longer. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. The pain in his head had lessened and he was able to concentrate. He was seeing a hotel room. Not one that was the caliber of the Ritz-Carlton but not one that was the caliber of the room he was in now either. He could see the harbor out one window. That was all he was getting. It was better than nothing, although he bet his captors would beg to differ with him. “All I’m seeing is a hotel room with a view of Boston Harbor.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Marco’s hands fisted on his hips. “Could you possibly be a bit more vague? There are hundreds of hotel rooms that face the fucking harbor!”
“No, Marco. I’m not fucking kidding you.” Ten sighed. “All I want to do right now is go home and hug my dog. The last thing I’m going to do is piss you off and risk getting pistol whipped again.” This was the thing with Tennyson’s gift even when he wasn’t dealing with a concussion and a headache that would knock an elephant for a loop. It wasn’t like a trained seal performing on command. He saw what he saw and that was that.
“What exactly could you see of the harbor?” Paulie asked. He tapped on his phone and was now staring at Tennyson looking like he was ready to input more information.
Shaking his head, Ten tried to figure out how to describe it. His eyes slipped shut as he brought the image back into focus in his mind’s eye. “I don’t know how to describe this.” He held his hands up in the air and made a round motion with them. “It’s this domed thing, like a boathouse maybe, by a pier. Boats can tie up there and people can come into the hotel for drinks.” Ten opened his eyes again.
Paulie started to laugh. He tapped again on his phone. “Is this it?” He held the device up to show Tennyson.
“Yeah, that’s it exactly.” Tennyson felt relief surge through him. He’d just bought himself more time. Thank Christ. Even though he’d lived in Massachusetts for thirteen years now, his knowledge of Boston was still a bit shaky.
“It’s the Boston Harbor Hotel,” Marco said when he got a look at Paulie’s phone. He pulled his gun out of the waistband of his pants, leveling the barrel at Tennyson’s head. “I’m sorry Tennyson, this is where it ends for you.”
Ten sat blinking at the barrel of the gun. “You’re going to kill me?” he stammered. Shit, he needed to come up with something fast. He suddenly saw an image of a dump truck and Vito Dragonni being led away from a prison transport vehicle. The Dragon had been broken out of prison.
“We sure as hell can’t leave you alive after this.” Marco pulled back the hammer. The gun clicked loudly in the suddenly silent room.
Tennyson was scrambling to find some reason for Marco to keep him alive. If Dragonni was on the loose then that meant he was coming after Tony Abruzzi himself. “The Marshalls know that Dragonni escaped. They’re packing up Tony and are about to move him again.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed on Tennyson. “How the hell do you know Vito escaped?” Without bothering to wait for Tennyson’s answer, Marco asked a second question, “What do you mean the Marshalls are about to move him again?” The mobster pulled the gun back from Tennyson’s face.
“The night before the trial, they had Tony at some Double Tree Hotel over by Columbia Point on the Southie/Dorchester line.” Ten remembered that hotel from when Ronan lived out in Dorchester. They’d driven by it when Ronan had taken him on a date to the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library. Thank Christ he’d been paying attention during that drive. He knew that detail would make this story more believable now. “Then, last night they had him at the Boston Harbor Hotel. He’s being packed up again now. If you kill me you won’t know where he’s being moved to next.” That was the best Ten could come up with on such short notice.
Marco grabbed Paulie and pulled him toward the corner of the room where they started to whisper.
While they were doing that, Tennyson started sending his psychic S.O.S. agai
n. He’d only gotten a tiny glimmer of the hotel room where Tony was being kept. He wouldn’t say his gift was back at one hundred percent but at least it was working a little bit. If he could pull Bertha Craig to him then she could get the message to Carson at the very least. He wasn’t sensing her around him at all.
It was bad enough that Dragonni was free. He hadn’t been able to see the entire scene, of what had happened to spring the mob boss, but he had a bad feeling that it hadn’t gone smoothly. He sent up a silent prayer that no other lives had been lost in the jail break.
“Let’s hit the road. Turn around Tennyson.” Marco brushed past him on the way to the hotel bed.
“What? Why?” Okay, this wasn’t going the way he’d expected, but at least the gun wasn’t pointed at his head anymore. Where the hell were they going now?
“We kidnapped you. We can’t leave you in the backseat of the car like a Labrador out for a Sunday drive.” Marco rolled his eyes. He grabbed the handcuffs from the side of the bed. “Hands behind your back.”
Tennyson thought about putting up a fight, but knew he’d won the battle by staying alive. He could work on getting loose later. Meanwhile, he’d keep trying to get in touch with Bertha Craig. All he needed to do was keep proving his worth to the mobsters and give Ronan and Fitzgibbon more time to find him.
“Listen and listen well. I’m going to march you out to the car. You’ll get into the trunk with no hassle or I’ll shoot you. Got it? I’m past the point of giving a fuck what Dragonni will do to me if I don’t find Tony Abruzzi.” Marco looked like he meant every word he was saying.
“Marco, wait!” Ten turned to look at the mobster, who all of a sudden looked like he was worn to the bone. “Why now?”
“Why now, what?” The mobster looked totally baffled by Tennyson’s question.
“Tony worked undercover in the Dragonni family over ten years ago, but Vito’s all of a sudden doing something about it now? Like he said when we met with you guys back in August, he had a Get Out of Jail Free Card. Why the hell would he put himself in this mess just to get revenge on Tony Abruzzi?” Ten had been mulling that question over in his head for the last five months. It made no sense at all. Why hadn’t Dragonni come after him long before now?