Dead of Winter (Cold Case Psychic #15) - Pandora Pine Page 0,4
in full swing. All of the kids had come dressed in festive Christmas pajamas, while their parents wore ugly Christmas sweaters. An hour in, and Tennyson still couldn’t decide which sweater was the ugliest of them all. It was a toss-up between Fitzgibbon’s, emblazoned with Santa sitting on a chimney as if it were a toilet, and Truman’s, which featured real tinsel and green Christmas balls. There would be a vote later to determine the winner.
“Oh my God, Ten!” Jude’s eyes glowed brightly. “I need the recipe for these date thing-ys.” Jude reached across his husband, Cope, to grab another one.
“They’re called Devils on Horseback,” Ten shot his mother, Kaye, the side-eye, knowing she’d have something to say about the name. Thankfully, she was talking in low tones with Greeley Fitzgibbon. “They’re so simple to make. You slit the date lengthwise, fill with blue cheese and wrap it in bacon. They go under the broiler for a bit, and, presto!”
“If you keep eating those dates, you’ll end up going presto in the bathroom all night.” Cope rolled his eyes.
“Now that we know all about Jude’s bathroom ills, there’s something I want to talk to the two of you about.” Fitzgibbon pointed back and forth between Ronan and Jude.
“I’ve already told you, Kevin, I’m not enrolling in one of those Daddy and Me classes. I think they’re a cult. You know, all those fathers wanting to share recipes and shit.”
“Uh, I just shared a recipe and I’m not in a cult.” Tennyson got up from the table to get more dates for Jude. The party food was appetizers. He and Ronan spent the afternoon making spicy meatballs, mini quiches, empanadas, and sliders.
“If it’s not Daddy and Me, what is it?” Ronan asked before snatching an empanada from the tray.
“I have a business proposition for you.” The room went silent. All eyes were on Kevin.
Jude opened his mouth, looking as if he were about to make a wisecrack, but snapped it shut with a clack of his teeth.
“Go ahead.” Ronan steepled his hands in front of him.
“I think we should start a detective agency.” Kevin’s eyes moved back and forth between Ronan and Jude. “Jude already has his Massachusetts private investigator’s license, and the two of us meet the requirement by being retired members of law enforcement in good standing.”
Tennyson knew this was coming. Not because he was psychic, but because Kevin had asked him what he thought of the idea last week when Baby Aurora and Everly were having a playdate. Ten was all for the idea, but wasn’t sure how Ronan would respond.
“What would the two of us need to do?” Ronan asked carefully, not giving a hint of how he felt about the proposition.
“File an application with the colonel of the state police, get three professional references and be of good moral character.” Fitzgibbon snorted. “They licensed Jude, so you and I would be shoo-ins.”
“Funny, dickface.” Jude shot Fitzgibbon the bird.
“Dickface!” Truman and Carson’s velociraptors chorused as they ran into the kitchen.
“Come here!” Truman said, motioning to the trio of three-year-olds.
Smiles fell from Brian, Stephanie, and Baby Bertha’s face, but they obeyed, trudging over to Truman. “That’s not a nice word.” His gaze moved back and forth between the kids. “Say you’re sorry.”
“Sorry!” Brian said before running off toward the living room.
“Sorry, too,” Stephanie looked down at her feet as she spoke.
“What about you, Bertha?” Truman bit his lower lip. His third child looked him in the eye defiantly.
Bertha mumbled something unintelligible. She smiled at Truman and moved to run off when her father grabbed her.
“Say it again. I couldn’t hear you.” Truman’s green eyes meant business.
Bertha stared back at him silently. It was as if she were waiting her father out.
“I heard her say she was sorry,” Ronan chirped on a laugh.
“Shut up, Ronan!” Truman shot back.
“Ohhh! Bad word!” Bertha pointed at her father. “Bad word, Daddy!” She clapped her hands and danced around the kitchen. “Time out! Time out!”
“She has a point, Tru.” Ronan got up from his seat and danced around the kitchen with Bertha.
“I’ll be in the living room with the civilized people.” Truman grabbed his coffee and headed away from the table.
“This isn’t an airport, husband. There’s no need to announce your departure!” Carson said before laughing at his husband.
A hand fluttered to Truman’s heart. “No nookie for you, wife. Toodles!” With a jaunty wave, Truman was gone.