DEAD TIRED

  by

  Pandora Pine

  Dead Tired

  Copyright © Pandora Pine 2023

  All Rights Reserved

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Digital Edition: August 2023

  PROLOGUE

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  EPILOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  Ronan

  October 31, 1997…

  “Mooom! Hurry up!” ten-year-old Ronan O’Mara wailed from the kitchen, his unopened vampire makeup spread out over the table. “I’m gonna miss all the good candy if I don’t get out of the house, like now!” Halloween was Ronan’s favorite holiday of the year. There was no going to church, no dressing up in his Sunday best, and no great-aunts and uncles pinching his cheeks. It was a night out with his friends and free candy.

  Halloween was the one night a year when kids were king. Free candy. Roaming the neighborhood in the dark. Scaring each other and their neighbors. He was looking to score all the peanut butter cups for himself and Snickers for his mother.

  “Calm your hemorrhoids, Ronan!” Erin called from the bathroom. “I’ve been on my feet all day. Give me a minute to pee and catch my breath.”

  “Pee on your own time!” Ronan called back. He’d spent his summer vacation mowing lawns in their Quincy, Massachusetts, neighborhood so he could buy comic books, The Amazing Spider-Man, and the most rad Halloween costume on the planet, Count Dracula.

  The costume featured a red satin vest and a red-lined black cape. It also came with makeup, black and white to make his eyes and face look undead and, of course, red to line his mouth and chin with what would look like blood. He was going to scare the pants off his entire neighborhood. If his mother got him ready on time.

  “For the love of God, Ronan, what’s the hurry? Trick-or-treating doesn’t start until half past five. It’s barely quarter past four.” Erin rolled her blue eyes and twisted her strawberry blonde hair into a bun.

  “For your information, I’ve gotta meet Jack at his house. The rest of the guys and I need to formulate a plan of attack. You know, figure out which houses have the full-sized candy bars and which ones give out apples.” Ronan grimaced as if eating fruit would seriously kill him. What kind of people gave out apples on Halloween? Assholes, that’s who.

  “How much money do you have left over from mowing lawns and raking leaves?” Erin asked, one brow quirked high.

  “A hundred bucks or so. Why? You need a loan?” Ronan snorted and laughed like a braying donkey.

  “No, smart-ass.” Erin whacked his arm playfully. “Do you know how many peanut butter cups you could buy with that kind of money?”

  “I need to save my cash.” Ronan hated raking leaves. He’d rather eat brussels sprouts for an entire year than do yard work, but he was saving to buy his mother a kick-ass Christmas present, a gold necklace with the letter R for Ronan. He’d seen Erin admire the necklace back in September when they’d been shopping for school clothes. He’d insisted on name-brand sneakers, which Erin bought, even though they couldn’t really afford them. Guilt had eaten him alive ever since. Plus, his mom deserved a good present for putting up with his shit.

  Erin did the best she could raising him by herself. His father had abandoned their family before Ronan could walk. Money was tight, but his mother always found ways to make him feel special.

  “Good,” Erin said, grabbing the makeup kit and flipping it over to read the directions. “Put some away for a rainy day. Maybe you’ll be able to take your old mom on vacation one day.”

  “You’re not old, Mom. You’re ancient!” Ronan cackled at his own joke. “You’re so old you fart dust!”

  “Don’t make me ground you,” Erin threatened with a devious smile.

  “You won’t ground me!” Ronan crowed. “Wanna know how I know that?”

  “Please enlighten me,” Erin deadpanned.

  “Because you want alllll my Snickers, and if you ground me, you get none!” Ronan doubled over with laughter.

  “Oh, no?” Erin asked. Her lips curved into a sly grin. She walked to the fridge and opened the vegetable drawer. Behind the brussels sprouts was a bag of fun-sized Snickers.

  “What the what?” Ronan’s eyes widened. It seemed he’d been beaten at his own game. “I searched high and low for your stash of Halloween candy.” Last year, Ronan had found his mother’s secret hiding spot in the vacuum closet. He’d come up with a dastardly way to sneak candy. He made a slit in the back seam of the plastic bag and was able to fish out one treat at a time. He brought the empty candy wrappers to school and threw them out in the lunchroom. The best part was that the bag still looked sealed.

  He’d gotten away with his clever plan until Halloween night when Erin went to fill the bowl for the trick-or-treaters. She wasn’t impressed with his ninja-like candy-stealing skills. In fact, she’d almost grounded him that night too.

  “You snooze, you lose, kid. Now, go wash your face and brush your teeth so I can put on this makeup.”

  “Mooom! Why do I have to be clean to go out with my friends?” Ronan hated washing his face. He hated brushing his teeth more.

  “You’re going to eat twenty pounds of candy tonight—the least you can do is brush your teeth first. Seriously, kid, do you want to go to school with missing teeth?”

  “I already did when I lost my baby teeth, remember?” Ronan laughed. “Boy, you sure are getting old if you don’t remember my first-grade pictures without my front teeth.”

  “You know what I remember most?” Erin asked, sounding wistful.

  “What?” Ronan loved hearing stories about himself when he was little.

  “When you were a little baby.” Erin sighed happily.

  “Yeah, I was a cute little bugger, wasn’t I?” Ronan had seen his baby album. He was cute as hell, if he did say so himself.

  “You sure were, with your chubby cheeks,” Erin giggled. “What I loved most was that you couldn’t talk!”

  “Hey!” Ronan crossed his arms over his chest. His mother wasn’t funny. Not funny at all.

  “No complaining. No begging to stay up late. No back talk. No swearing. Ah, the good old days.” Erin giggled.

  How the hell did Erin know he swore. Ronan would be fucked if he knew. He was always careful not to say bad words in front of her. Father Frank said cussing was a one-way ticket to hell, but Ronan didn’t believe that line of bullshit. The priest said just about everything would send him to hell. If he was destined to spend an eternity roasting in the fiery pits anyway, he was going to enjoy the absolute fuck out of life. “That was so funny I forgot to laugh.”

  “Go. Brush face. Wash teeth!” Erin pointed down the hall.

  “Fiiiiine,” Ronan grumped. He plodded toward the bathroom. Grabbing his toothbrush, he put the minimum amount on the bristles and turned on the water. He brushed like his mother taught him, singing along to the Happy Birthday song in his head. He grinned at himself in the mirror. He had really nice teeth. A lot of his friends’ teeth were yellow and scuzzy-looking. He was glad his mother loved him enough to make him take care of himself. If he ever had a little boy, he’d make sure Ronan Jr. brushed too. He burst out laughing at the thought of having a son.

  “What’s so funny?” Erin asked when Ronan came back to the kitchen, his face still damp.

  “I was thinking what it would be like to have an awesome son just like me.” Ronan puffed out his chest.

  Erin burst out laughing. “If God has a sense of humor, he’ll send you a little girl who’ll talk your ear off and make you buy her a million Barbie dolls.”

  It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have a little girl. “If I ever have a daughter, I’ll name her after you, Mom.” In an uncharacteristic gesture, Ronan leaned over and hugged his mother.

  “You’ll be the best father in the whole wide world.” Erin squeezed him tighter.

  “That’s because you’re the best mother.” Ronan let his mother hug him for a few more seconds before pulling away. “Make me a scary Dracula so I can go get all the candy! I vant to eat your peanut butter cups.”

  “Goofball,” Erin laughed. She opened the black face paint and got to work.

  Ronan and his mother might not have much, but they had each other. Somehow or another, it was always enough.

  1

  Tennyson

  October, present day…

  “Kids!” Tennyson called from the kitchen. “Meeting time!”

  The scampering patter of little feet rolled into the kitchen like a mini stampede. “I’ve always wanted to go to a meeting,” Ten’s five-year-old daughter, Everly, said, climbing up into her usual seat at the table.

  “Me too,” Wolf said. “Even though Daddy says that meetings suck donkey balls.”

  Ten didn’t have to use his psychi c gift to figure out which of Wolf’s fathers had said that line. It was Jude. Definitely Jude.

  “I’m not coming to the meeting if there are smelly donkeys!” Aurora Fitzgibbon said, her dainty nose high in the air.

  “I promise there won’t be any donkeys, but we do have cupcakes.” Ten set a Halloween-themed treat in front of each of the kids. “I need you to eat your cupcake and give me a report about it. Did you like how it tastes? Did you like the design?”

  “Yup!” Wolf crowed before burping. Orange frosting from the jack-o’-lantern that topped his cake was smeared all over his mouth.

  “You ate it already?” Ten asked. Chocolate crumbs, along with the discarded cupcake wrapper, sat in front of the little boy. If this was what he had to look forward to when Ezra got older, they were going to need a bigger grocery budget.

  “Ew, gross!” Aurora shot Wolf a withering stare, giving Joan Crawford a run for her money.

  Ten couldn’t help but wonder how she’d managed to perfect her look of disdain at such a young age.

  Wolf burped again. It sounded like rolling thunder. He slapped a hand over his mouth and giggled like a loon.

  “Daddy, do people burp like that in meetings at your work?” Everly grimaced, waving a hand in front of her face to dissipate the stench of Wolf’s belch.

  “No, they burp louder. They fart too.” Shit, Ten should have kept his mouth shut. If the little kids knew the bigger kids acted like that, they would too. He could just imagine the parent/teacher meetings.

  As if on cue, Wolf tooted. The little boy laughed so hard he fell out of his chair. Kicking his feet in the air, he rolled onto his back, slapping his hands against the tiles.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Cope asked, walking into the kitchen with Ronan and Jude. “I thought we were having a meeting to decide on food for the PTA Halloween Ball. Instead, Wolf’s on the floor, laughing so hard he’s about to puke, and all I can smell are french fries.”

  Everly pinched her nose. “Wolf tooted,” she squeaked. “His toots always smell like french fries.”

  “That’s my boy!” Jude got down on the floor with Wolf and tickled his tummy.

  Wolf responded with another toot, this one sounding squishier than the first.

  “What did you give them for lunch?” Ronan asked, hugging his husband.

  “Nana Kaye dropped off Happy Meals, along with the cupcakes.” Ten shrugged. He’d taken the day off from work to stay home with Ezra, who’d been miserable teething his one-year molars. Thankfully, the little boy was asleep in his crib, but he wouldn’t be for long if Wolf and Jude kept laughing like that.

  “Damn, this is good,” Cope said. “I love cupcakes.” He handed one to Jude and another to Ronan.

  “Me too, Daddy.” Wolf was back on his feet. “I want another one. I promise I’ll give a report.”

  “Preferably without the sound effects.” Tennyson smirked.

  “I love my vanilla cupcake,” Aurora said, wiping her hands on a pumpkin-patterned napkin. “The vampire smile is cute.”

  “Aurora, that’s a perfect report. Thank you.” Ten turned to Everly, who was licking her fingers. “What about your witch’s hat?”

  “It was delish,” Everly enthused. “I think all the kids in my class will like them.”

  Wolf tooted again. And again. Cope joined the chorus. So did Jude.

  “What the hell?” Ronan asked, his butt squeaking.

  “Oh, Jesus,” Ten said. He had a really bad feeling about this. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his phone to call his mother.

  “Hello, Tennyson. Did my little angels like the cupcakes?” Kaye asked.

  “Everyone loves the treats, Mom, but what the hell did you put in them?” Ten paused as Ronan ripped one off. “Everyone is farting their brains out.”

  “They’re what?” Kaye asked, gasping. “Oh! Oh, no.”

  “What do you mean, ‘oh, no’?” Ronan asked, his mouth full of a second cupcake.

  “I baked two batches. One with real sugar for the kids and one with sugar substitute for my bridge game later. A couple of the members are diabetic. I must have given the kids the wrong batch. Are they okay?” Kaye asked with a giggle.

  “They’re fine, Mom, but it sounds like the trombone section of a brass band is warming up in my kitchen.” Two more toots blasted off from Wolf and Jude, who were rolling around on the floor, laughing their asses off.

  “I suppose it’s better that the kids are doing it than four old geezers in my living room.” Kaye laughed.

  “Gee, thanks, Mom. Please don’t use sugar substitute for the Halloween party, okay?” Ten snorted at the idea of one hundred kindergarteners tooting en mass. “I think the parents would rather them risk diabetes than deal with this noxious gas.”

  “It’s a shitty situation, Kaye!” Ronan said, cracking up.

  “Craptastic!” Jude shouted from the floor.

  Ten surveyed the room. Ronan was eating another cupcake and had his eyes on a third. Wolf and Jude were still on the floor, and Cope was laughing so hard he was holding his stomach. At least, Ten hoped that was why he was clutching his gut.

  “Uncle Ten, I want to go home. My tummy hurts.” Aurora looked as if she were about to cry.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Ten asked. Aurora had a delicate stomach. He hoped whatever the hell Kaye put in the cupcakes wasn’t making her sick.

  Aurora opened her mouth to answer but tooted instead. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open in a horrified look.

  “Go, Aurora!” Wolf said, ripping off another gas blast.

  The little girl, who minutes ago was on the verge of tears, burst out laughing. “I tooted!” She tumbled to the floor with Wolf. “I’m gross, Woofie! Just like you!” As if to prove her point, she did it again, rapid-fire, sounding like a machine gun.

  “There’s a brand-new bottle of air freshener in the laundry room. Your husband’s socks smell like day-old fish heads—it should help with the stench,” Kaye said.

  At this point, Ten would prefer the stench of rotting fish. “I don’t think Febreze will cut it. We’re going to have to sell the house and move. Bye, Mom.”

  An anonymous toot blasted off, shattering the brief peace in the room.

  “Who cut the cheese?” Jude asked. “Ronan, was that you?”

  “Whoever smelt it, dealt it!” Ronan snorted. “Must have been Cope.”

  “Yeah, well, whoever denied it, supplied it!” Cope shot back. “I think it was Ten.”

  “Hey, whoever reported it, exported it!” Ten burst out laughing.

  “What’s going on?” Fitzgibbon asked, walking into the kitchen, his eyes wide. He looked at the kids laughing on the floor with Jude, to Ronan and Cope, who were laughing so hard they were leaning against each other to keep from falling down.

  “We’re tooting, Daddy!” Aurora said, punctuating her answer with another blast of gas.

  “I thought we were taste testing cupcakes?” Fitzgibbon pinched his nose closed.

  “Yeah, well, Kaye poisoned us with sugar substitute,” Ten said. “The cupcakes taste great, but there is a pretty noticeable side effect.”

  “I was going to suggest going out for pizza, but maybe we should order delivery instead?” Fitzgibbon walked to the center island and grabbed takeout menus from the drawer.

  “I promise not to toot anymore, Daddy!” Aurora said sweetly and promptly farted. “Oooops! I poops!” Aurora’s giggles filled the kitchen.

  Ten grabbed two cupcakes and handed one to Fitz. “When in Rome!”

  “More like the Windy City!” Fitzgibbon said, taking a bite. His stomach rumbled, a sure sign of what was to come.

  Tennyson walked to the sliding glass door and opened it all the way, hoping it would vent the noxious fumes his family was producing. He only hoped the stench wouldn’t kill their friendly neighborhood squirrels or half the block.

  2

  Ronan

  Ronan hummed to himself as he pulled his red Mustang into the parking lot at the Salem Police Department. After a few delays and some seemingly interminable meetings dealing with red tape and budgets, today was finally his first day as the co-captain of Salem’s fledgling Cold Case Unit.

  As he got out of the car, his gold detective’s shield caught the sun and shined. “I’m golden, baby,” he whispered.

 

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