Page 6 of Ghostmaker

“City Hall hasn’t approved my budget for fiscal 2027. They say we’re nearly a million over budget, but we’re only a small bit above where we were last year. It stands to reason that budgets grow every year with the increase in salaries and the need to supply our officers with the gear and vehicles they need to keep the City of Salem safe.”

“But?” Ronan prodded.

“But the mayor doesn’t seem to think we need those things. He also doesn’t think we need a cold case team.”

“What?” Fitz shouted. “The mayor wants to cut the unit?”

Jude couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d worked so hard his whole life to get where he was now. He was a glorified private investigator with a badge. What the hell was going to happen to him if the department shut down? It wasn’t like he could go work for homicide or vice. Jude had never been through the academy, which brought along its own set of problems. If he did go and he did pass, would that mean that he’d start out as a lowly beat cop or traffic warden making minimum wage?

“Jude?” Fitzgibbon said, sounding as if it wasn’t the first time his name had been called.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here.” Jude felt himself start to sweat. It trickled down his back to melt into his underwear. “I was doom spiraling.”

“We could see that,” Cisco said. “I need you to all listen to what’s going to happen next.”

“Does it involve a trip to the unemployment line?” Ronan asked with no trace of his usual sarcasm.

Cisco shook his head. “Cold case is the only department the mayor wants to put out of business. I don’t know if it truly is a budget thing or thanks to the work you all did to expose the ticket scheme my old partner spearheaded. To be honest, I think it’s the latter. You did excellent work, but it showed the voters how much corruption existed in the police department.”

“So you’re saying the problem is us, not the cold case unit itself?” Jude asked. Politics played a bigger role in law enforcement than most people realized. Republicans tended to be tougher on crime, wanting to outfit the department with bigger and better weapons, while the Democrats felt that policing should start in neighborhoods getting to know people and their issues. Jude sat in the middle, wanting a little of both, but his job didn’t bode well if the higher ups were angry and embarrassed over a problem that had existed in the department long before Jude or the rest of the cold case team came to work for the Salem Police Department.

“I just don’t know, Jude, but we’re not going down without a fight. The work your unit has done has closed seventeen of the coldest cases in the department over the last two years. You’ve also solved your share of current cases, including the work you did on the doorbell killer and arresting the angel of death killing patients at Salem Mercy Hospital.”

Jude had nearly died during the investigation. He’d hurt his knee shooting hoops with Ronan and Fitz and had ended up needing surgery. Even with Ronan hiding in the bathroom of his hospital room, the killer had still been able to inject Jude, stopping his heart for several seconds, before Ronan had brought him back with CPR. He’d put his life on the line several times for this job and the department. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

“We know we’re good at our job,” Ronan said, sounding anxious. “How are we not going down without a fight?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Cisco tapped his hand on a folder on his desk. “The city made arrangements for a team of forensic accountants to go through everything, department by department, in order to justify the money spent in the past and to prove why we need more in the future. I want to be able to put cold, hard facts, in the form of numbers, in front of the mayor and city council in time for the next meeting.”

“I don’t see how that helps us,” Fitz said. “If the mayor wants to end the department, how the hell do we fight that?”

“First I want to prove out the budget, then if the mayor still insists on cutting cold case, then we’ll just have a little rally on City Hall Plaza filled with families you’ve all helped and the ones who are still waiting for justice. Election day is two months away and voters are going to remember the mayor being against police and the fine work we do. This isn’t over yet. I don’t want you to act like it is. Work with this accountant. Make sure he understands what you do, how you do it, and with what resources. I’ll take care of the political bullshit.”

“Okay, chief,” Fitzgibbon said. He didn’t sound impressed.

“Also, guys, keep this as quiet as possible. I know you’ll tell your husbands, but beyond that, let’s keep this situation in house. Got it?” Cisco looked worried and exhausted.

“Got it,” Ronan said. “When is this accountant coming?”

“Today, sometime after lunch.” Cisco looked over the three detectives. “Give him all the help you can. Get off on the wrong foot and maybe the numbers don’t work out favorably for us. Know what I mean?”

Jude understood perfectly, if the three of them didn’t make nice with this accountant, it could be one more nail in their coffin. “We read you loud and clear.”

“You’re always getting together with your families, maybe you invite this person to join you? Show him just how much is riding on this decision.”

“You want us to prostitute ourselves with our husbands and kids?” Ronan asked.

“And maybe Cope’s baked ziti with garlic bread.” Cisco grinned. “It’s worth a shot. Your husband is one hell of a cook.”

“We’ll play nice.” Jude got up and headed for the door. “Beyond that I can’t make any promises.”

Ronan followed behind Jude. “By the way, what’s this guy’s name?”

“Strickland. West Strickland.”

Ronan chuckled. “I wonder if he’s got a brother named East?”

“And a sister named South,” Jude added.