Ghost Writer - Pandora Pine Page 0,73

power to make sure Musgrave never hurt another soul.

Geneva nodded. “He’s not banging, Jude. He is trying to escape.”

“Escape what?” Jude was terrified to find out.

Before Geneva could answer, she vanished.

“Geneva?” Jude called out. Falling to his knees, he struggled to take a deep breath. “Okay, boys and girls, time to get the fuck out of here. I’m going to be sick if we stay up here much longer.”

“Agreed,” Cope whispered.

“Out we go.” Jude ushered Peg forward and pulled Cope along behind him. When she was through the hidden door and back into the washroom, Jude turned to Cope. “Coming?”

“They were all tortured here. I can’t speak to their spirits, but they’re here, somehow.” Cope brushed tears from his cheeks. “There is so much pain here. Loss. Devastation. All in the name of religion. A religion whose messiah preached to love thy neighbor.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of here.” Jude tugged Cope out of the room. He secured the door and set the shelves to rights. Peg was nowhere to be found.

“She’s in her bedroom packing,” Cope said softly. “She knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here.”

In the years they’d known each other, Jude had never seen Cope so defeated. “Tell me what I can to do make this better.”

Cope’s eyes burned black with anger. “Help me find this motherfucker and send him straight to hell.”

Jude could do that.

33

Copeland

The ride home from The Beecher House took longer than usual. There had been an accident downtown, and as a result, traffic had been detoured. While Jude drove, Cope did a quick Google search of Father Radcliffe Musgrave.

“Nothing. Can you believe that?” Cope felt his rage kick up a notch. What the fuck good was the internet, if it didn’t give you the information you needed, when you needed it?

“Actually, I can believe it,” Jude said carefully. “Brooks died in the mid-nineteen forties, and according to what we read, there were no suspects, least of all a well-respected Catholic priest. The only way I can see Musgrave getting his name in the paper would be for acts of charity, holiday fairs, or when he died. Either way, I think we’re going to have to dig into The Salem News archives to get any information at all about this guy.”

Cope sighed. He figured once they had a name, it would be a piece of cake to track him down. Obviously, it was going to be harder than that. “I wonder how cooperative the Catholic Diocese would be if we went poking around Musgrave’s old church?”

“You’re smarter than that, Cope.” Jude reached a hand out for his husband. “Sorry, that came out harsher than I had intended. The Catholics aren’t going to tell you shit. I mean, come on, the diocese moved pedophile priests around for decades. They were masters of deception, doing everything they could to protect the priests who were harming the most vulnerable members of their parishes. Do you honestly think they’re going to give us any information about a priest who may or may not have been performing his own conversion therapy in the servants’ quarters of some old house downtown?”

His husband made a good point. Several of them actually. “You’re right, Jude. Not that the Catholics ever had any use for the gays anyway. I don’t think they ever will.”

“Being accepted by the Catholic Church isn’t today’s mission. I need you to focus on figuring out who Radcliffe Musgrave was and what connection he has to this case. You need to do everything in your power to get in touch with Brooks. Did you sense him at all today when we were at The Beecher House?”

Cope shook his head. “I didn’t. My gift was wide open and all I was sensing was Geneva Beecher.”

Jude pulled up in front of their house. He parked the car and turned toward Cope. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, do you, now?” Cope found a smile. Jude always knew how to make him feel better, no matter what.

“You’re thinking that I’m not only a kick ass P.I., but also a damn good kisser.”

Barking out a quick laugh, Cope leaned over to kiss his husband. “I’d rate you a seven.” Cope unbuckled his seatbelt and was out of the car knowing Jude wasn’t going to be happy with his grade.

“A seven?” Jude shouted, loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. “How dare you?”

“If I said you were a ten that would mean there’s no room for it to get