Skye never haunted this spot.”
“Christ,” Cope laughed. “You sound like you’re a practicing medium. Not that I disagree with anything you said.”
“We feel like this is a wasted trip.” Cole straightened his hat and pulled his gloves back on.
“This wasn’t a wasted trip,” Jude assured him. “We were able to walk the crime scene in conditions similar to what they were the night of the crime. Ronan checked out the ways Skye’s killer could have lain in wait, and we all got a taste of how cold it would have been here that night. I know if it were me, I would have wanted to do what I came here to do and then get the hell out in a hurry. I can’t imagine the killer or Skye had some big speech planned like you see in the movies.”
“Teenagers are dramatic like that,” Cole said.
“So are husbands.” Ten rolled his eyes.
Ronan mounded a quick snowball and launched it at his husband. It hit him dead in the chest and exploded outward.
“Asshole.” Ten moved to make a missile of his own.
“Don’t move!” Fitzgibbon shouted, startling Tennyson. “Did you see that?”
“The way the snow bounced off in all directions?” Ronan asked.
Fitzgibbon nodded. He pulled off his glove and held his index finger straight out in front of him. He moved forward and stabbed Ten in the chest with his pointing digit. “If I stabbed Ten and pulled the knife back, there would have been blood everywhere, especially on me.” Fitzgibbon stabbed Ten again. “More blood.”
Jesus Christ. “Where are the pictures of the blood trail? I don’t remember seeing any pictures of the crime scene aside from the body and the bloody snow under and around it.”
“There wouldn’t be a trail or droplets if the victim was already on the ground.” Ronan stepped forward. “I love you, babe.” He waggled his eyebrows before kissing Ten. A few seconds later, after Jude gagged, Ronan smacked a hand against the side of Ten’s head.
“Ouch! Asshole!” Ten rubbed the spot Ronan struck.
“You never saw it coming, did you?” Ronan wore a Cheshire Cat grin.
Ten’s mouth dropped open in shock. “No, I didn’t, and Skye wouldn’t have either. Once the killer had her down on the ground, she would have been easy to overpower and stab.”
“She could have also been tripped or shoved down by someone taller and stronger,” Cole added.
“When it comes to a blood trail, remember it took two days for those birdwatchers to find the body. Evidence could have been lost or covered up by the time the crime scene unit processed this place.”
“And there was more snow,” Ronan added. “The night after the murder, the Salem area got another three to five inches of snow. So, if there had been a trail of blood leading from here to the parking lot, it would have been covered up by the new snow. We only saw the blood around and under Skye because her body sheltered where she fell.”
“Shit,” Jude muttered. “Back to the drawing board.”
Ronan didn’t want to say it aloud, but they were no closer to figuring out how Skye died now than before they’d come out here. So far, none of her friends or siblings had called back. If he didn’t hear from them soon, he was going to take matters into his own hands. The gloves were off, and he was going to solve this crime, one way or another.
16
Tennyson
Tennyson was silent the whole ride back to West Side Magick. Carson and Cole followed suit. He didn’t need to be a psychic to know that everyone felt down about not getting any information from the crime scene. Ten had known it was a long shot going in, but he was disappointed all the same.
“I don’t want anyone to feel bad about this,” Ronan said when he parked the Mustang across from the Magick shop. “Damn,” he interrupted himself, “who’s got the reading with the Krystle Carrington?” Ronan pointed to the pricey Mercedes parked in front of them.
“I don’t have anything on my schedule today,” Tennyson said.
“We’ve got phone readings after three, but nothing in person,” Cole said while Carson nodded along.
“Maybe some rich lady from Boston is buying out the shop as Christmas presents for her rich friends.” Carson gave Ten’s seat a shove.
“All of you are psychics, why the hell don’t you know whose car this is?” Ronan laughed as he got out of the Mustang and held the seat forward for Cole, who walked up to the car and