Page 1 of Dead Mad
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Ronan
Eye of the Tiger
Ronan O’Mara was having the week from hell. He’d slammed his hand in the car door, and forgot his travel mug filled with coffee on the roof of the car, which resulted in a scratch on the Mustang’s trunk. Thankfully he’d gotten to work safely, but just as he parked the car, the skies had opened up and drenched him. Even now, hours later, his shoes were squishy and his pants were still wet, which made him cranky.
It was for certain the week from hell. The problem was, it was only Tuesday.
“Ronan, what the actual fuck?” Fitzgibbon shouted, exploding out of his office so hard, that the door bounced off the wall and slammed shut behind him.
As quickly as he could, Ronan mentally reviewed everything he’d done since he walked into the office that morning, but couldn’t come up with anything that would have sparked this kind of reaction from Fitz. “Could you be a little more vague?”
“Not funny, asshole!” Fitzgibbon barked. “Why the hell did you skip the McClellan interview?”
Relief flowed through Ronan’s body. He was off the hook, at least for now. Fitz must have gotten the date wrong, as Ronan wasn’t scheduled to speak with McClellan until next week.
David McClellan had long been a suspect in his wife’s brutal 2015 murder. The woman had been stabbed seven times in the chest and was left to die alone in her bed. All eyes had been on David as the killer. The couple were going through a long and contentious divorce, with David demanding that his wife not get a penny, even thoughhe’dbeen the one caught cheating.
There was a ton of circumstantial evidence pointing to David as the killer, but no physical evidence to back it up. Over the last ten years, the widower hadn’t hidden from public scrutiny. He’d been seen around town on dates with several different women. There were pictures of him posted at least once a week on Salem Talks, a community-centered Facebook page.
“It’s not until next Monday, the twenty-eighth.” Ronan grabbed his phone to back up his assertion.
“Wrong, asshole, it wastoday.” Fitzgibbon’s hands were bunched into fists at his sides. “This was the one chance we had to nail this fucker and now it’s gone. I just got off the phone with his attorney, who said they will not reschedule.”
“Wait, no, that’s not right.” Ronan’s brow furrowed as he tapped through his phone. He opened the calendar app and saw there was no meeting scheduled for the twenty-eighth, in fact there was nothing listed for the entire month of April. “Shit, it’s not here.”
Jude offered Ronan his phone. The interview was listed in black and white. “See, it was today.”
Feeling angry and frustrated, Ronan lashed out. “Why didn’t either of you remind me? We’re supposed to be a team, right?”
“Do you want us to wipe your ass too?” Fitzgibbon shot back.
“It’s up to you to keep track of your appointments,” Jude added with a snarky smile.
“What the actual fuck, Jude? You’re supposed to be my friend and partner and you’re coming for me like I was the one who killed Marie McClellan?” Ronan felt as though this conversion had spun completely out of control. “We’re on the same side here guys. I feel like you both wanted me to fail so you could come down on me.”
“We’re in the business of catching killers and solving cold cases, Ronan.” Fitzgibbon growled. “There’s no room for failure. Or for feeling butt hurt. Thanks to your incompetence, we’ve lost out on the opportunity to solve this case. You’re going to be the one to call Marie McClellan’s family and explain to them that David is even further out of reach now.”
“Hold on just a damn minute.” Ronan felt like his head was about to explode. “Missing the interview with David McClellan isn’t the end of the world. All the asshole was going to do was lie to us anyway.”
“Yeah, but he might have said something we could have used against him,” Jude added. “How many times have we solved cases based on an inadvertent slip of the tongue.”
“You would know, seeing as though you slipped your tongue to half of Salem.” Ronan was done with this conversation and Jude’s bullshit.
“Low blow, asshole,” Jude said, from behind clenched teeth. “Who the fuck do you think you are throwing my past at me? We’re talking about your fuck ups, not mine.”
“Yeah, well, you’re fuck ups are legion.”
“Fuck you, Ronan!” Jude shoved a finger in Ronan’s face and kicked his chair out from under him, knocking the detective onto the floor.
Landing on his tailbone, Ronan fisted his hands and stared up at his best friend, wanting nothing more than to break his stupid nose. Shaking his head, Ronan stayed where he was on the floor. It was the safest place for him. Right now, all he was guilty of was hitting Jude with low blows. Actually hitting him with his fists might end their friendship and partnership forever.
“Calm the hell down, Jude. It’s not as if he’s lying.” Fitz set his hands on his hips.
“Oh, so now you’re coming for me?” Jude shouted. He pushed out of his seat and charged toward Fitzgibbon, who didn’t move an inch. He cocked back his arm, looking ready to throw a punch, when Tennyson ran into the conference room.
“What the hell is going on up here? We can hear you yelling from downstairs.” Ten shouted above the fray. “Cope and Cole are in the middle of readings and some of the customers in the shop are wondering if they should call the cops.”
