Author: Pandora Pine
Category: LGBT
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/pandora-pine/page,16,465324-dead_to_the_world_cold_case_psychic_book_10.html
“Get him out of the trunk, Paulie. Get the cuffs off him too.” Marco shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he was doing this.
“Obsession is a dangerous thing,” Tennyson muttered.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Marco demanded.
“Before Dragonni found out about Tony’s betrayal, have you ever seen him act like this before?” Ten rubbed his wrists where the cuffs had been biting into his skin. He was taking a real risk riling Marco up like this, but maybe if he could get the mobsters to see that they were being played, maybe they’d stop this crazy train and let him get the hell off. They could both save themselves while there was still time.
Marco gave his head a shake. “He’s taking risks and giving orders I’ve never seen him give before. He’s gone off the rails.”
Ten nodded. “That’s what I mean. All he can see right now is revenge. It’s going to get you all killed if you’re not careful.”
“Is that what you’re seeing?” Paulie asked.
“I’m not seeing anything.” It was true. Ten was so worked up and worried over what was going on with Ronan and what was about to happen to him, his gift wasn’t giving him anything at all. It didn’t take a psychic to see that Vito pursuing revenge like this was dangerous for everyone around him.
“What the hell does that even mean?” Marco asked. “You’re not seeing anything?”
Ten raised an eyebrow at the mobster. “It means things are in a state of flux. The future is changing so fast that not even my gift or my spirit guides can keep up with it. Vito’s mania is going to bring us all down if we’re not careful. I mean, Jesus, Marco, five minutes ago, you were ready to charge into a hotel room guarded by heavily armed U.S. Marshalls. No offense, but how stupid is that?”
Marco bowed his head. “There’s no way out of this for any of us. You should know that, Tennyson. No one is walking away.”
“Do you want to walk away?” Ten was quiet for a few pounding beats of his own heart. “You have to know my husband and the FBI are out looking for me. You know those Marshalls upstairs are probably aware that an attempt like this is coming. All you have to do is give yourselves up.” Ten knew these men weren’t stupid. All they had to do was employ a little bit of common sense here.
Marco laughed. The sound was hollow and full of bitterness. “That’s a speech for a television show, Tennyson. Dragonni is like an octopus. He’s got tentacles spread everywhere. He made a lot of friends in prison. All it takes is one word to the right person and I get shanked in the shower or pushed down a flight of stairs. My life won’t be worth shit in prison. It will be worth even less as an informant. The Dragon is showing just how far he is willing to go to get back at someone who betrays him. Either I’m finishing the job Dragonni gave me or I’m going down in a blaze of glory. There’s no third option. Now, if you think you can go up there and get Tony out of that room without getting any of us killed, then maybe you get to live a little longer.” Marco shrugged. “Maybe Vito would like the opportunity to shoot you himself.”
“You do know who my husband is, right?” Ten found a small smile. “Ronan’s coming after me. He won’t stop until he’s got me back and you all are dead or in custody. I’m not bragging here, but he’s a badass motherfucker.”
“Yeah, Tennyson, you’re right. He might be just that, but he also abandoned you, leaving you alone and unprotected. Grabbing you this morning was the easiest job I’ve ever had.” Marco started to laugh.
Ten shrugged. He’d warned the dumbasses that Ronan was coming. They’d be sorry later on when they were at the hospital getting bullets plucked out of their flesh, or worse, when they were standing next to the autopsy table watching Vann Hoffman cut their corpses open from stem to stern.
“What room are they in?” Marco asked, not seeming at all phased by the specter of a vengeful Ronan hanging over their heads.
Shaking his head, Ten tried to hone in on that piece of information. “I’m not sure. He’s on five, but I’m not sure of the room. It will be easier to find once we get up there. Don’t press the elevator button for five though, that will trigger a response from the Marshalls. Hit the button for seven and we’ll take the stairs down.”
“How do you know that shit?” Paulie shot him a shocked look.
“Uh, my husband’s a detective. I’ve been working on cases with him for two years. I’ve picked up a thing or two in that time.” Like how not to be a dumbass. The only reason Tennyson was trying to help this operation go as smoothly as possible was because innocent bystanders like himself had a way of getting shot in the crossfire. So far, he managed to keep buying himself time. He’d told Bertha what he knew and that had kept him alive. All he had to do now was get up to Tony’s hotel room and get the man in question to trust him.
“I still think this is all bullshit.” Marco fisted his hands on his hips.
No sooner had the words left his lips than the nearby elevator dinged. “This is your lucky day. That’s him and only one Marshall. The other one is still upstairs with Carlie.” Ten watched with growing horror as Marco and Paulie ran up to the elevator and stood on either side of the doors. He sent up a silent prayer that neither of them would kill the Marshall.
He wasn’t stupid either. While Marco and Paulie were getting ready for the elevator doors to open, Ten hid himself beside the Cadillac. He knew the car was strong enough to protect him when the bullets started to fly.
When the doors opened, Tony Abruzzi and the Marshall walked out. Ten couldn’t believe that the man hadn’t looked out the door before walking Tony into the garage. What a shit operation this was.
“Hands up, asshole.” Marco stuck the barrel of his gun against Tony’s temple. Paulie rushed in to grab Tony.
The Marshall started to laugh. The sound was rich. It almost sounded maniacal to Tennyson’s ears.
“Yeah, you’re a little late, fuckers. Don’t you mercenaries-for-hire talk to each other?” Tony shot all three men a sour look.
“Bob Crandall, U.S. Marshall Service. I’m taking Mr. Abruzzi to a special meeting in South Boston.” His right hand came up. In it was a semi-automatic.
Tennyson gasped from his hiding place. He quickly put the pieces of the puzzle together. Crandall wasn’t marching Tony down here to move him to a safer location. He was going to deliver him to Dragonni.
Marco chuckled. “That special meeting wouldn’t happen to be the Black Falcon Warehouse, would it?”
Crandall grabbed his prize back from Paulie, while raising his gun. “Mr. Dragonni sends his regards.” He leveled the gun at Marco’s face. He fired one shot. Marco dropped to the floor.
“You,” Crandall pointed at Paulie. “Come with me.”
Tennyson watched as Paulie helped load Tony into the back of the Marshall’s van. He was shackled by the hands and the feet to the bench inside.
“You next.” The Marshall used his gun to motion Paulie into the back of the van. Quickly slamming the doors, he hurried around to the driver’s side of the van.
Tennyson ducked further back behind the Caddy and out of sight. The last thing he needed now was for the disgraced Marshall to see him. He heard tires squeal and the van drive off. He risked peeking around the back end of the car. The van was gone.
Walking back to the driver’s side of the car, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, Ten yanked the door open and reached for Marco’s cell phone. He had no idea what the passcode was. His gift wasn’t giving him any clues either.
“It’s 3265,” a familiar voice said.
Turning to his left, Tennyson saw Marco’s spirit standing next to the open door of the car. He typed in the code and the phone unlocked. He dialed Ronan’s cellphone without hesitation.
“I’m sorry for putting you through all of this,” Marco said sadly.
“Your mother is standing behind you. Let her help you and heal your soul. Go now.” Tennyson didn’t have the time or the inclination to deal with the mobster who’d kidnapped him and sho
ved a gun in his face twice.
Ten turned his attention back to the ringing phone. It was odd that Ronan wasn’t answering it. He was never more than a few feet away from it.
“O’Mara,” a voice, not Ronan’s, answered.
“Jude?” Ten squealed. He’d know that voice anywhere.
“Tennyson? Where the hell are you?” Jude gasped. “Hold on, I’m hitting speakerphone.”
“Ten?” Ronan roared.
“I’m in the parking garage of the Boston Harbor Hotel. There have been a few developments.” Ten was so happy to hear Ronan’s voice. He was on the verge of losing it, but was trying to keep himself together.
“Oh my God, Ten, are you okay?” Ronan’s voice had softened, sounding like it was on the verge of breaking.
“I’m fine, but Tony’s Marshall, a guy named Bob Crandall, switched sides and is working for Dragonni now. He brought Tony into the garage just as my kidnappers were about to force me upstairs to try to get Tony to talk to me. Crandall shot one of them and took the other one with Tony in his van.” If he lived to be a hundred, Ten was never going to forget watching Crandall shoot Marco in the head. He shut his eyes against the memory playing on a loop in his brain.
“Do you know where they’re going?” Ronan asked.
“I do. It’s the Black Falcon Warehouse in Southie.”
“That’s down at the shipping docks,” Jude said.
“Hold on, Tennyson. We’re only two minutes away from you. Bertha told us where to find you and we were on our way there.”
“What do I do about Marco? He’s just lying on the concrete floor.” Ten’s voice was shaking, but he was still holding on.
“Are you sure he’s dead?” Ronan asked carefully.
“Oh, yeah, it was his spirit that gave me the passcode to his phone.” Ten swallowed hard. He hadn’t liked Marco, but hadn’t wanted to see him dead either. His mother’s spirit had been certain her son could have been rehabilitated. Mother’s were like that, always looking at the silver lining.
“We’re pulling into the garage now. I’m here, Ten.” Ronan’s ragged voice cut off.
The phone beeped three times in Tennyson’s ear. He set it back down where he’d found it in the car and climbed out. His personal kidnapping nightmare might be over, but he knew this day was long from done. The memories from today would be with him for a long time to come.
Tennyson didn’t need his sixth sense to tell him that Ronan was going after Vito Dragonni to end things once and for all.
29
Ronan
Hearing Tennyson’s voice on the other end of the phone was just what the doctor ordered. Ronan’s heart had been hammering in his throat the whole way from the police barracks in South Boston as they drove back into the city. Thankfully, traffic had been light, but it wasn’t light enough to get him into that lower-level garage and to his husband as quickly as he wanted.
“This is it right here,” Jude pointed.
Nodding, Ronan flipped on his blinker. “Call Fitzgibbon. Tell him about Tony, the Marshall, the dead mobster, and what Tennyson said about the Black Falcon Warehouse. After we get Ten, we’re going there. Tell Kevin to send all the firepower he has, but no lights or sirens.”
“Turn right at the bottom here, Ronan. Ten’s twenty feet up that row of cars. So is the body.” Copeland’s voice was quiet. This was the first time he’d been out on an actual criminal case instead of casting spells or talking to spirits of departed loved ones.
“There he is.” Jude pointed.
Ronan threw the car into park. His heart lurched when he saw Tennyson standing at the back end of the black Cadillac. He was out of his seat and running to Tennyson. “Thank God you’re safe.” He held his hands up to touch the side of Ten’s bruised face. “Are you okay?”
Ten’s eyes slid shut when Ronan touched him. He wrapped his arms around his husband’s hips and stayed still for a few moments. “I’ll be okay. I’m an O’Mara-Grimm. It takes more than being locked in the trunk of a car to rattle me.”
“I was so scared I’d lost you,” Ronan whispered. Staring down into Tennyson’s dark eyes, one of which was blackened, he knew that bullshit about keeping Tony’s death from him didn’t matter at all. All that was important was that Tennyson was alive and he was safe.
“I knew you’d find me. You always do.” Ten stood up on tiptoes to wrap his arms around Ronan’s neck.
“I love you so much, Nostradamus. I’m so sorry for everything.” Ronan could feel his emotions getting dangerously close to the surface. As good as it felt to have his husband back in his arms, he still had a killer to catch and Tony Abruzzi to save. Ronan held on tight. Tennyson was shaking all over, but he was alive. He was safe.
“I love you too, Ronan.” Tennyson held on tighter.
“Where’s the mobster?” Ronan hated to pull back from Tennyson’s embrace, but with Tony in Dragonni’s hands, every second counted.
“Marco is behind me.” Ten swallowed hard. He didn’t seem like he wanted to let Ronan go.
“His body or his spirit?” Ronan asked gently.
“His body. His mother showed up right after he gave me the phone code. They left together after that.” Ten pulled away, leading Ronan to Marco.
“You didn’t touch anything here, right?” Ronan knelt down about a foot away from the body.
“No,” Ten shook his head. “The only thing I touched after we got to the garage was the side of the car when we heard the elevator ping. Marco and Paulie stood on either side of the doors to ambush Tony and the Marshall.” Ten moved away from his husband. “Ronan, I used my gift to help them grab Tony.”
Ronan pivoted on his heels. He moved quickly back to Tennyson’s side. “They had you handcuffed and locked in the trunk of their car. You said they were shoving guns in your face and telling you they were going to shoot you. Thinking on your feet like you did and using your gift saved your life. Don’t ever regret that. I sure the hell don’t.”
“Ronan?” Jude interrupted. “Fitzgibbon says the cavalry is on the way and he’s meeting us at that warehouse.”
“Let’s go. We’ll let the BPD handle this. You’re going to have to give a statement later, once this is all said and done.” Ronan led him back to the car. “I hate to ask, but are you going to be able to use your gift to help us?”
Ten nodded. He got into the car as Ronan held the door open for him. Jude had gotten into the back seat with Copeland.
“I’m so glad you’re safe.” Copeland reached out to Ten, setting a hand on his shoulder.
“Thanks, Cope.” Ten smiled at the psychic.
Ronan put the car in reverse and drove out of the garage. He pulled back out into traffic and headed toward South Boston. “Why the Black Falcon Warehouse?” he asked absently.
“It’s where the guns came in,” Tennyson answered. “It’s like Dragonni is being poetic almost, ending things where they began. He’s bringing things full circle.”
More than anything, Ronan wanted to reach a hand out to Tennyson who looked thunderstruck sitting in the passenger seat of the Mustang. They’d had so many good times in this car over the last two years. There had been plenty of tense moments like this one too, but Ronan had always known that they were going to come out of those situations together on the other side. The only thing that scared him more than facing down Vito Dragonni was the thought that Tennyson might be so hurt over the way he’d acted that he might walk away from him when this was over. If that happened, it would be all his fault for being such an insensitive jackass.
Ronan reached across the console for Tennyson’s hand. Ronan felt the breath he’d been holding whoosh out of him when Ten took it. Maybe they could survive this Vito Dragonni cluster fuck after all.
“This is the warehouse complex coming up on the left. Ten, do you have any idea which warehouse it is?” Jude was craning his neck to see out the window.
“Look for the white van. That’s what Crandall took Tony and Paulie in.” Ten
nyson wrapped his free arm around himself.
“Down there,” Cope was pointing. “And it’s not good.”
“Not good, how, Cope?” Jude asked.
“Someone is dead in the van.” Cope’s voice was soft.
“I’m guessing it’s the mobster. Crandall doesn’t need him anymore now that he’s delivering his prize to Dragonni.” Ronan shook his head. He parked the car far enough away from the van that he wouldn’t interfere with the crime scene techs when they arrived.
Ronan got out of the car and pulled the seat forward for Copeland and Jude. Tennyson met them at the trunk. Ronan handed Ten his bullet-proof vest before handing Jude his spare. “Cope, I only have these three.”
“I’ll be fine.” Cope dropped a wink at Jude.
“You fucking better be. Working with you is the best damn job I’ve ever had.” Jude was strapping the Velcro across his chest.
“Here’s Fitzgibbon. Looks like Faulkner is with him. Shit, is that Clemente in the back seat?” Ronan should have known the FBI agent would insist on being here for this. He had as much skin in the game as the rest of them.
“Why is Clemente here? Didn’t he get shot?” Ten looked up to Ronan.
“Yeah, took one to the left shoulder. Turns out the reason he became an FBI agent and why he was such a dick to you about this case was because Dragonni was responsible for his brother’s murder. When he saw an opportunity to get revenge, he didn’t let anything get in his way, especially not our family. That’s something we can talk about later, when Dragonni is back in custody and Clemente is back in the hospital.” Ronan hadn’t forgotten that he owed Clemente a shot to the jaw.
Fitzgibbon was out of the SUV and jogging up to the Mustang. “Tennyson, I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“Thank you, Kevin. What about Marco?”
“We’ve got people at the garage. He’s being taken care of.” Fitzgibbon turned to Ronan. “We also have people with Carlie. Turns out the Marshall with her was not on the take and had no idea what Crandall was up to when he took Tony out of the hotel room. We’ll have more information on that later.”