Page 14 of Six for Gold (The Magpie Rhyme #6)

R omeo stood at the kitchen window, cup of coffee in hand, scowling at the field.

The magpies hadn’t returned.

But two days after Chad had re-staked the pole in the ground, small birds covered the feeders.

Sparrows and finches.

He raised his gaze, studying the sky.

The raven didn’t trouble itself with such small prey—it was after a much bigger prize.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Chad said from the doorway.

Romeo despised the way his heart skipped at Chad’s voice.

Being close to Chad simultaneously closed a wound and sliced it open again.

It wasn’t once, it was a thousand times with every lingering look, and small smile.

It hurt and it soothed and not for the first time Romeo cursed Chad making him feel what he had never before. Anger was simple, and it was so easy to retreat into it and snap at Chad, but he exhaled a slow breath and attempted to be civil.

“Some might think so.”

Chad rolled his eyes. “Well, they are. Obviously, you prefer magpies.”

Romeo put his focus firmly on Chad, hiking one of his eyebrows.

“The cushions, the plates,” Chad explained. “There’s a magpie pen in the other room.”

He crossed the kitchen, opening a cupboard he grabbed a glass then filled it at the tap.

“What’s with the magpies?” Chad muttered beneath his breath.

“I told you about the magpie.”

“Amnesia, remember?” Chad paused with the glass against his lip. He lowered it. “Magpie? Not magpies ?”

“Magpie,” Romeo confirmed, but offered nothing else.

Chad waited, but when it became clear Romeo was done talking, he drank his water, content to watch the birds.

Romeo missed the magpies.

He missed his Chad more.

So much more.

“So ... we’re almost out of food.”

“I’ll sort it,” Romeo replied.

“You’ll sort it?”

“I do the shopping online using your card. The company has instructions to deliver to the front door then leave. Other companies only deliver to the shed at the beginning of the track road. They don’t want to risk their cars breaking down,” Romeo sipped his water, “That could have unfortunate consequences for them...”

“That doesn’t fit the compromise.”

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”

Chad sighed. “I actually think it can.”

He had a point. Romeo didn’t know why Chad had tried to kill himself, and that hurt worse than any pain he’d experienced before.

“Did you?”

Romeo narrowed his eyes. “Did I what?”

“Ever ... you know, hurt one of the delivery drivers.”

“By hurt you mean kill, and no, I haven’t. I agreed to the compromise. I don’t break my promises unlike some.” Romeo couldn’t help himself, and he liked the way Chad recoiled then curled in on himself whenever he brought up the broken promise.

Chad hung his head. Romeo glimpsed him from the corner of his eye, then slumped.

“I’ll order the food now. If we pay extra, it’ll come today.”

“Can we afford it?” Chad asked.

“Yes,” Romeo opened his laptop he’d left on the table. “Money is not an issue for us.”

“Not since that article ... the one written by Holly Stevenson...”

Romeo tried to get a read on Chad, but he turned his back to Romeo. “You got a significant payout from The Canster times.”

Chad slammed his glass down on the side.

Romeo stilled, watching.

“I hate her,” Chad whispered. “Don’t I?”

“Yes. I hate her too. She’s on my list.”

“Your ... list?”

Romeo nodded, tapping casually on the laptop keys. “A list of people I want to kill. I want to kill her for trying to destroy you.”

He thought Chad would protest, but he merely nodded.

“Who else is on the list?”

“Right now, you’re at the top of it.”

Chad crossed his arms, looking particularly unimpressed by the comment.

“Some singer you had a crush on.”

Chad’s expression brightened. “Arnold Fritz?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you had a crush on him.”

Chad snorted. “That’s a stupid reason.”

Romeo ignored him. “Dean was on the list, but I recently crossed him off it.”

“You ... killed him?”

“I don’t know. I think he lived. It’s not important.”

“It kind of is.”

Romeo shrugged.

“Anyone else?” Chad asked.

“Superintendent Peter Watts.”

“For what reason?”

“For turning every police officer against you and forcing you to resign.”

“I was responsible for two deaths...”

“No,” Romeo replied with thunder in his voice. “Vincent Whitehall was. He manipulated that situation. He lit the match—”

“But I was the fuse that led to the explosion. I’m as guilty as he is and two people are no longer here because of him and I.”

Romeo bristled. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make it sound like you were in cahoots.” He clenched his hand into a fist. “I don’t like it. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“You and him were never partners in crime, but we were.”

“Just in crime ...”

Romeo didn’t answer.

“Did I tell you about the calls and texts I was getting?” Chad asked.

“You did. But you didn’t mention the scale, the quantity. You told me you didn’t answer, and you didn’t reply.”

“I didn’t ... I don’t,” Chad retrieved his phone from his pocket. “A lot of people wish me dead.”

“I wish it right back at them and I have the inclination to follow through with my threat.”

Chad flashed Romeo a small smile. He bowed his head slightly and shuffled in the direction of the door. “Any more dreams?”

Romeo stiffened. “No, but I’ve barely been sleeping.”

“You can try them if you like?” Chad said, pointing to the box of temazepam on the side.

Romeo eyed Chad. “They seem to have worked wonders for you.”

Chad cocked his head, waiting for an explanation.

“You haven’t been having nightmares.”

“How do you know that?”

“I would’ve heard you,” he frowned, “Or seen you when you were sleeping in the outhouse.”

“Makes sense,” Chad whispered, “But it’s not because of them.”

Romeo glanced from the box to Chad then back again.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been taking them.”

Romeo blinked. “You ... you told Ally you were. You told her you were taking all of your medication—”

“Only the ones I need. They’re for insomnia, and I’ve been sleeping just fine.”

Chad’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out. “It’s Josh. He’ll be here soon.”

Romeo shot one last look at the box of temazepam. “I better make myself scarce then...”

****

J osh arrived forty minutes later with a yapping Mercutio and a blast of fatty food fumes straight up the stairs. Chad and Josh had a preferred pizza place and usually only bought one pizza to share between them, but it was huge and potent.

Romeo tensed at paws tapping up the stairs. His door was pushed open by the wide head of Mercutio. Romeo couldn’t see the rest of him, but knew he wagged his tail from his head shaking from the left to right.

Romeo gave in, slipping off the edge of the bed, he crouched.

Mercutio rushed inside, waddling in his excitement and let Romeo fuss him.

“I hope he’s been taking good care of you.”

Mercutio licked his chin, going in for a second lick when Romeo pulled away.

Josh called for Mercutio from downstairs.

Josh ... not Chad.

Romeo hadn’t asked Chad why Josh had taken over Mercutio’s care. That would mean staying in a room long enough to engage in conversation, and he’d not managed more than a few minutes before actively intimidating Chad enough to leave.

Chad had wanted Romeo to spend time with him to help him remember, but he found it difficult.

Romeo lay down on the bed and shut his eyes.

He woke when Chad and Josh were saying their goodbyes in the hallway. Mercutio yipped and yapped, before his bark was cut off when Chad slowly pushed the door shut.

Mercutio had gone home with Josh.

Again.

Chad waited for Josh to drive away before calling up the stairs that it was safe to come down.

“Did you have fun?” Romeo asked once he was on the bottom step.

“It’s always good to see him.”

Romeo nodded. “What about Mercutio?”

Chad frowned. “He was great too.”

“Why aren’t you looking after him?”

“Because...”

“Because?” Romeo pressed.

Chad lowered his gaze. “I don’t remember him, not a thing. Josh was looking after him while I was at Ally’s, and I remember thinking how good he was with him. I didn’t even realize he was my dog, and now...”

“Now?”

“Mercs happy with Josh. Josh is good for him, and he’s good for Josh. I’m too ... unstable right now.” Chad bit his lip. “I asked Josh about the case he’s working on.”

“And how did he react to that?”

Chad sighed. “He was ecstatic I could remember, even though I can’t, not really. The car is clean. They’ve not matched the tire print, and the soil in the treads is the same over most of Bardhum.”

“We’re in the clear then.”

“They recovered CCTV from the car park at St John’s. It captured a six-foot well-built white man with a cap, glasses, leaving the car park. His clothing was all indistinct, no brands, no labels, all the dark in color. Other CCTV cameras picked him up around the hospital, but they didn’t get a clear image of him. They couldn’t even tell the color of his hair. He didn’t return to the vehicle.”

“I ditched the jacket and cap then got a taxi home.”

“The description matches some of the footage they’ve got from near Ellie Tipper’s house. Josh thinks he’s got his man.”

“One of them, maybe.”

“The man on CCTV also vaguely matches the description of a man the police are searching for in regards to an unprovoked assault at the nightclub Goddess.”

Romeo hummed. “Dean didn’t die then?”

“No,” Chad shook his head. “He didn’t die, but he did have to be intubated. He’s still in the hospital. You crushed part of his airway.”

“Only part?”

“Romeo...”

He lifted his eyebrow. “Chad.”

“Why?”

“I needed a distraction, and he happened to offer himself up on a plate.”

“He’s a good—”

“Don’t. If you finish that ... thought, I will find out what hospital he is in and finish the job. He thought he could save you from me for a second time, but he was wrong. No one can.”

Chad sighed and strolled into the kitchen. “Both Dean and Simon were able to give a detailed description of you.”

Romeo followed him. “Simon?”

“A witness to the attack.”

“What did they say?”

“You were a middle-aged man with glasses, long hair, gruff beard, big build, a crazed look in the eyes.”

Romeo snorted. “I can’t do much about the eyes or the build, but I guess I’m due a haircut.”

“Well, don’t do it yourself, we both know how shit it looked last time.”

They stared at each other.

“Do we both know?” Romeo asked.

“Yes,” Chad looked away. “It was ... it was ... wow , that’s what it was.”

Romeo snorted. “It was certainly that.”

“You had bald patches.”

“I did.”

“I tried to reassure you that it looked okay.”

“You failed spectacularly.”

Chad smiled, and it was too much to look at.

Romeo averted his gaze, brushing his fingers over his beard. “I’ll trim this down, get it looking good again, and then you can cut my hair in the kitchen when I’m done.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

****

C had was waiting in the kitchen when Romeo came back down. He quickly looked away from Romeo’s shirtless body, but his blush built, glowing up his cheekbones.

“Here,” he said, pushing out a chair with a bit too much force.

Romeo caught it before it tipped and hit the floor.

“Sorry,” Chad said, still not meeting his eye.

Romeo positioned the chair and sat down. It felt like minutes before Chad came up behind him.

“I’ll just...”

He touched Romeo’s hair, tentatively at first.

“Get on with it, Chad.”

Romeo closed his eyes, zoning out to the buzzing of the clippers, and Chad’s fingers brushing through his hair. He relaxed, his head dropped forward only for Chad to chuckle and encourage it up again.

“Sure you don’t need those sleeping pills?”

Romeo frowned.

“Almost done,” Chad said, putting the clippers on the kitchen table. He grabbed a pot of hair wax he had ready and unscrewed the top.

“A little of this,” Chad scooped out a small amount and rubbed it between his palms. He paused and slowly brought his hands up to his face. He took a deep breath in through his nose, then stiffened.

“Problem?” Romeo asked.

Chad lowered his hands. He widened his eyes and quickly reddened under Romeo’s scrutiny. “I...”

“Sniffed the hair wax?”

Chad frowned at his tacky hands. “I liked the smell. It smells like...”

“Me,” Romeo supplied. “Get it in my hair.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Chad blurted, before brushing it through with his fingers.

His cheeks didn’t lose their red glow. He kept darting looks to the door, like he contemplated running.

Romeo expected Chad to cut his hair short, but he didn’t. Once it was done, it was still long enough for Romeo to tuck it behind his ears. The loss of the ends gave his hair more volume, and matched with the short stubble, Romeo felt at home in his skin again.

He looked good, and Chad tripping over nothing, and struggling to speak, only confirmed it.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Can ... can I ask you something?” Chad asked.

He had his back to Romeo while putting the clippers back into their box.

Romeo brushed hair from his shoulder. “What is it?”

“Did I ... did we ever...” Chad cleared his throat, building up to the question. “Did we ever mess around with drugs?”

Of all the questions Romeo thought Chad might ask, that hadn’t been one of them.

“No.”

Chad’s nod was jerky, unnatural. He turned around to face Romeo. “It’s just...”

“Just what?”

“Barry the Buzzman.” Chad leaned against the kitchen table. “I remember the name and have this vague feeling I met him to buy drugs.”

Barry the ... oh.

“I was angry with you when you told me you were off to meet a drug dealer,” Romeo let a slither of that anger show. “It was stupid.”

“What was I buying?”

“Chloroform.”

“Chloroform,” Chad echoed, he rubbed his brow, “Why chloroform?”

“It wasn’t for personal use. It was for a case. Chloroform was being used to kill the victims.”

“Josh told me about that one.”

Romeo nodded. “You wanted to meet with Barry the Buzzman to find out who was supplying him and whether his supplier was connected to the murders.”

Chad’s eyes widened. “The fridges. The huge fridges. They were making a new club—”

“Goddess.”

“—ripping out the fridges and freezers. That’s where the killer was getting the mass quantities of chloroform, from those old units. He was using his car to kill them.”

Romeo nodded. “Barry helped you solve the case. He pointed you in the right direction.”

“Tate,” Chad’s face fell. “It was Tate.”

“It was Tate.” Romeo agreed.

“I didn’t save him. I didn’t get him out of the car—”

“You saved his brother Shawn.”

“I should’ve done more.”

Romeo got to his feet. “You feel that about every case you’ve ever worked on. You’ve never been satisfied with the result because you hold yourself up to impossible standards.”

“Why?”

“You don’t feel worthy of a life. You never have and think you can prove to yourself, and others that you are, but you set yourself up to fail. You can’t stop every murder. You can’t save everybody.”

“Is that why I did it? Because I can never ... win.”

“ We win. Every time.”

Chad’s brow folded. “Except against Vincent Whitehall.”

Romeo bit the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe that’s why then. I thought we were invincible and found out we weren’t.”

Romeo didn’t reply.

Chad lifted the box with the clippers. “I better go put this away.”

He brushed by Romeo, disappearing into the living room.

The door latched behind him.

Romeo thought of Vincent.

He thought of his promise to Chad to poison his time.

It had been poisoned.

Romeo made an excuse to check on him five minutes later, claiming he needed something vital from the living room. Chad tried to assist his make-believe search for a cooking book, but Romeo had growled, not too kindly, for him to stay put on the sofa.

He paused in the doorway before leaving the room, “I won’t let him win.”

“But—”

Romeo shut the door on Chad, cutting off his reply.