Page 24 of Dead O’Clock

“You might want to spend the rest of the day writing your will and getting your estate in order. Maybe start a GoFundMe page to pay for your funeral expenses, otherwise you’re going to end up with a numbered marker in a potters field.” Ronan paused, watching Miller closely. It was obvious Miller was terrified. “Our offer of protective custody stands.” Ronan set one of his business cards on the desk. “Call us before midnight. Good luck.” He turned and walked out of the office without a look back. Ten was right behind him.

Who the fuck was Damien Rhodes? It was obvious that the man had a grudge against law enforcement officers, but what had Ronan done to incur his wrath? Ten needed to find out before the next letter delivered was the one with his husband’s name on it.

11

Ronan

After a quick lunch at Ronan’s favorite taco place, he, Jude and Ten went back to the office. A familiar face was sitting at the conference table waiting for them. “Fitz, thank God.” Ronan hugged his boss. It wasn’t like him to be touchy-feely with his best friends, but right now, Ronan could use all the strength he could get. If there was anyone who could help unravel Damien Rhodes’s connection to him and the dead men, it was Kevin Fitzgibbon.

“Nothing could have kept me from Salem. Jace had gotten a sunburn when we were hiking on the first day in the mountains and he’s been miserable ever since. All he wanted was to come home. Hearing what was going on at home with you and the dead men, Jace insisted we come home.”

Ronan pulled away from Fitz. “If I survive this mess, I’ll make sure to take Jace out for a fancy dinner.”

“I spoke to Cisco on our way back from New Hampshire. He caught me up on everything that’s happened, including what Everly said about the public defender being next and then you on the killer’s hit list. What happened when you spoke to Miller?”

“He didn’t believe he was in danger, not even after we showed him his letter. It had been sent to the law office instead of his house. I offered to put him in protective custody, but he declined. Jude showed him the picture of Ten’s unknown client from the other day, and Miller knew who it was.”

“Holy shit!” Fitz broke into a wide smile. “Who is it? Let’s go get his ass.”

“I convinced him to give us the name of the man, but none of us know who he is, which is why we came back here to do some research,” Ten said.

“Okay, well, who is he?” Fitz wore an excited look.

“His name is Damien Rhodes. Does his name ring a bell for you?” Ronan asked, hoping Fitz knew who he was.

Fitz’s face fell. “I’ve never heard that name before. Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Okay, let’s dig into this case. Jude, look into Roderick Crews. Find out what his connection was to Rhodes. Tennyson, you look into his connection to Paul Jones. Ronan, you take Michael Miller, and I’ll work on your connection to Rhodes. Any questions?”

The room was quiet.

“We’re the best at what we do, guys,” Fitz said, looking around the room. “Let’s prove why that’s true. We’ll reconvene when we have some answers.”

Ronan plugged in his computer and turned it on. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of working with Rhodes’s connection to Michael Miller, he’d much rather be trying to figure out what the unknown man’s connection was to himself. Fitz knew what he was doing. If Ronan were tasked with looking into himself, he would have ended up diving into rabbit hole after rabbit hole, accomplishing nothing.

The first step in working this case was finding out who the hell Damien Rhodes was. Obviously Michael Miller had represented him in the manslaughter case that saw him get convicted and sentenced to Walpole State Prison, but what else was there to this man?

Pulling up Google, Ronan typed in Damien Rhodes and hit search. Several newspaper articles appeared at the top of the results. Two were from The Salem News, while the third was from The Boston Globe. The Salem articles dealt with the crime and results of the trial, while the Boston article was a mishmash of both.

Ronan clicked on the article written when Rhodes had been arrested. As he scanned it, Ronan remembered the crime. A twenty-five year old man named Brock Hower had been found dead in his apartment by his mother. She hadn’t heard from him for several days and had gone to check on him. What she saw was something no mother should ever have to see. Her son was found in his kitchen, lying naked in a congealed pool of his own blood. At least ten stab wounds were visible and the gory knife lay near the body.

Ronan shivered. He couldn’t help but think about Everly finding his murdered body. His stomach heaved at the thought of anyone seeing him that way. God, I know I’ve been a dick in my life, but please don’t let my family find me dead in a pool of my own blood.

Turning back to his computer, Ronan read that several prints and DNA belonging to Rhodes had been found in Hower’s apartment. Ronan pulled up the police database and ran Rhodes’s name. The man had a long rap sheet including arrests for assault and battery, trespassing, and weapons charges, which he’d been convicted of. Since the crimes were felonies, Rhodes had been compelled to provide a DNA sample.

According to witness statements, Rhodes had been dating Hower. A fight between the two men had been heard by several neighbors, none of whom called the police. Brock’s mother was certain that had someone called for help, her son would have survived.

Rhodes, who was no stranger to being arrested, quickly asked for a lawyer, and was provided with Michael Miller from the public defender’s office. Thanks to aggressive plea-bargaining on Miller’s part, the charge against Rhodes was knocked down from second-degree murder to manslaughter, in what Ronan knew was a sweetheart deal. If he’d been convicted of second degree murder, Rhodes would have faced life in prison with the possibility of parole after twenty-five years. Getting sentenced to fifteen years and only serving nine and a half was one hell of a deal in Ronan’s eyes, but not in Rhodes’s or he wouldn’t have killed two men associated with his time behind bars and had his eyes on taking out at least two more.

What Ronan didn’t understand was his own connection to Damien Rhodes. He read through the trial transcripts and noted every person mentioned in connection with the case. Ronan hadn’t been involved in the murder case at all. In fact, he had still been working for the Boston Police Department and was living in Dorchester at the time Brock Hower was murdered and the case against Rhodes was adjudicated. Ronan didn’t know anyone affiliated with the case at the time. Not the judge, bailiffs, court clerks, or members of the jury.

Ronan turned his attention back to Michael Miller. In the time he’d worked for the Salem Police Department only one person the cold case team had arrested had been assigned Miller as their public defender. He hadn’t even made the arrest, Jude had, while Ronan and Fitz were recovering from being shot in the line of duty in a case they’d worked in conjunction with their old friend Faulkner Hayes, who was the captain of the Boston cold case unit. “None of this makes any fucking sense,” Ronan muttered.

“Same on my end,” Jude said.

“What did you learn?” Fitz asked, from the doorway of his office.

“Roderick Crews was one of the three members of the parole board who presided over Rhodes’s hearing. He voted no, while the other two members voted yes. Rhodes was granted parole, but he obviously didn’t forget how adamantly against his parole Crews was.”

“In terms of a vendetta, Crews being on Rhodes’s hit list makes sense.” Fitz sighed. “What else have you got?”