Page 19 of Six for Gold (The Magpie Rhyme #6)

R omeo woke before Chad .

They had crashed out together as soon as they got inside, Romeo exhausted from sitting at the kitchen all night in an anxious state, and Chad ... from doing whatever Chad had been doing. He stroked Chad’s throat, tentative at first, not wanting to see a flash of his nightmare. There were no bruises, but Romeo knew they would take a day or two to appear.

The only signs Romeo had almost killed him were his scraped elbow, and his bloodshot eyes.

Our next victim.

Romeo’s heart thumped.

It had been too long.

The sun came into the room through the crack in the curtains.

Romeo smiled at it, before smiling at Chad.

He stayed alive after his parents died to indulge the monster, but he only started living once he found Chad. There was more to life than the monster, there was him.

The buzz of Chad’s phone interrupted the peace, and Romeo reached over and grabbed it from Chad’s side table. A name he didn’t recognize flashed on screen.

Chad woke with a start but soon settled when he saw Romeo hovering over him. He gave him a small smile, then took the phone from Romeo.

“Hello,” Chad answered, climbing out of bed. “Are the police looking into... No, it’s completely understandable.”

Chad shut himself in the bathroom.

Romeo frowned at the door.

Pam.

Who the hell was Pam?

A few minutes later, the shower turned on.

Romeo waited in bed until a refreshed Chad reappeared with a smile on his face.

“Stop looking so worried,” Chad snorted.

“I’m not worried,” Romeo cocked his head. “I’m curious.”

Chad got dressed, undeterred by Romeo’s staring.

He came over to the bed to press a kiss to Romeo’s lips.

He tasted of mint.

“Any chance there’s some apple and blackberry pie downstairs with my name on it?”

Romeo glared. “There is zero percent chance of that.”

“Shame. Beans on toast it is then.”

He dazzled Romeo with another smile, then left the room.

Romeo got ready and joined Chad downstairs, fortunately before he started making beans on toast. Chad had cleaned up the smashed clock without comment, and the shards glinted at Romeo from the bin.

Romeo made pancakes while Chad scraped the pan of ruined apples and blackberries into the bin. Another phone call interrupted them, and Chad left to speak with the caller in the hallway, out of earshot of Romeo.

He returned with a snort. “I thought you liked anticipation.”

“I do.” Romeo replied, flipping a pancake. “Now make yourself useful and squeeze a lemon for me.”

They ate pancakes with lemon and sugar for breakfast.

Chad went outside to refill the bird feeder. He got another phone call, and Romeo watched from the window, studying his expression. It was apologetic, pained almost, but when he caught Romeo watching, he turned his back to him and continued his conversation without Romeo attempting to read his face or his lips.

When he returned, he gave Romeo a pointed look, and said. “Two hours.”

Romeo swallowed hard. His palms were sweating. “Two hours.”

Then Chad passed him, walking through the house, he unhooked the key for the outhouse and went outside.

Romeo paced back and forth like a beast in a cage, briefly pausing to poke his phone to know the time. His heart thundered, his fingers twitched, and a familiar fire filled his veins.

He didn’t interrupt Chad in the outhouse, although he was curious about what he was up to. When Chad returned, he had a folder pinned beneath his armpit.

He paused in the doorway, taking Romeo in.

“You look...” he licked his lips. “Good.”

“Good?”

“Really fucking good.”

Romeo studied Chad right back. His eyes were bright, and his smile reached them, but it wasn’t friendly in the slightest. It had a manic edge to it Romeo hadn’t seen on Chad before. “You look really good too.”

Chad snorted, then gestured with the folder towards the living room. “I just need to set things up in here.”

“In here?”

“Yes, Romeo, in here.”

He pushed into the living room. Romeo blinked after him.

Chad was bringing murder not just into their lives like in the outhouse, but into their home.

Chad nipped outside to grab something from the car. He kept it from Romeo as he took it into the living room. Romeo watched from the doorway. Chad had rearranged the armchair so it was in front of the door so the occupant would not be able to see the person behind them.

He nodded, happy with the arrangement.

“I’m going to take another shower,” he kissed Romeo on the cheek as he passed.

When Chad returned, Romeo’s mouth went dry.

Chad wore a crisp white shirt, and dark grey trousers.

His eyes were bright with no sign of tiredness, and he flashed a smile.

“Ready?” he asked.

Romeo couldn’t speak. He nodded.

Chad handed Romeo his phone.

Romeo took it with a frown.

“I don’t want any interruptions.” He nodded at the living room. “I think we’re ready.”

Chad’s phone buzzed in Romeo’s hand.

It was a camera alert.

Chad watched Romeo as he frowned down at the car heading up their road.

A blue Mazda MX-5

A car Romeo had never seen on their property before.

Chad pressed a hand to Romeo’s chest, pushing him back until they were out of the living room and in the kitchen out of sight.

Romeo continued to look down at the phone, even when Chad retreated, Romeo kept watching.

The car slowed outside.

Its wheels squeaked as it came to a stop.

The driver’s door opened.

And a woman stepped out.

She wore a cream blouse, and a long grey pencil skirt. Her mousy brown hair was tied up, and it swayed as she walked. She had a thick black folder clutched to her side, and in her other hand, she held a box.

Chad hurried out to greet her, and she smiled sweetly, bowing her head slightly at Chad’s approach. She handed the box over to Chad, and they both laughed, as they shook hands, then Chad gestured for her to follow him into the house.

It was only when Chad’s back turned, did her smile fall, and Romeo’s hackles, along with the hair on his arms, rose. The way this woman looked at an unaware Chad set alarm bells off in Romeo’s head.

They passed out of view of the camera, and Romeo heard the clomp of her heels in their home. “I hope you like them,” she was saying, not that Romeo had a clue what they were talking about. Blood rushed in his ears, and it was taking everything in him not to walk out there and strangle her for looking at Chad in that way, like he was a conquest .

“Who doesn’t like chocolate brownies,” Chad responded, and his voice was warm, and jovial.

They went into the living room, continuing their small talk. She asked about the window, and Chad explained he’d not yet had it replaced.

Chad’s phone buzzed again in Romeo’s crushing grip.

It was a message from Josh.

One name.

Keeley.

Chad left the living room and came into the kitchen. Romeo gripped his arm, pulling him close. “Keeley?” he whispered.

Chad nodded.

Romeo turned, about to rush into the living room and kill her, but Chad stopped him.

“Do you trust me?” Chad asked.

“Yes.”

Chad smiled and strode away to grab a tray from the cupboard. While he boiled the kettle, he added plates, forks, a pot of sugar and teaspoon to the tray.

Romeo blocked Chad’s path when he tried to return to the living room.

Chad shot him a sad smile, and mouthed, ‘stay close.’

Romeo stepped aside, allowing Chad to pass. He kept close, though, stopping by the door to the living room that Chad left open.

“Here we are,” Chad said, placing the tray down on the coffee table. Keeley popped the lid off the box she’d bought with her and held it out to Chad.

He picked a brownie with a smile and put it down on his plate.

Keeley pressed the lid back down on the box.

“Are you not having one too?” Chad asked.

Keeley chuckled. “I’ve had plenty, trust me.”

“I won’t feel right if I’m indulging and you’re not.”

“If I eat another one, Chad, I might burst, but you go right ahead.”

Chad raised the brownie to his mouth, poised to take a bite. Keeley leaned forwards in her chair, waiting for it, but instead Chad lowered it back to the plate.

“Is there any news about the break in?”

“No,” Keeley replied. “Pam said they’d trashed the place and stolen the new computers and the new TV in the waiting room. I’ve had to reschedule my appointments. I’m hoping the offices will be in use again by next week.”

“These house calls aren’t for everyone?”

“I didn’t want to let you down at such short notice ... considering.”

“Considering?”

“It was only three months ago that you attempted to end your life. These sessions are vital. They’re a safe place for you to unload your thoughts and feelings and it’s my job to help you work through them.”

Chad nodded. “The last few months have been a bit of a rollercoaster.”

“I imagine that’s putting it mildly.”

“I didn’t think I would get through it at times,” he lowered his gaze. “I’d felt like I’d lost my mind.”

“It’s understandable. What you went through and the complications of your injury, anyone would feel out of sorts.”

“But I found it again. I always find it, battered, and bruised,” Chad snorted. “It’s a lot more resilient than I gave it credit for and it feels clearer than in has in months, possibly years.”

“That’s ... good.”

“I’ve had to accept some hard truths.”

Keeley added two spoonful’s of sugar to her coffee. “Like what?”

“I always craved acceptance, more than that, I’ve wanted people to value me, think I’m worthy, think what I do is worthwhile. That no matter the beginning I had, I was somebody important, somebody that would do great things. I wanted to play the hero, but that’s all it was, playing a role.”

“It’s admirable, striving to be a good person. No one can fault you for that. If the world was full of just good people, it would be a better—”

“It’s not, though. It’s full of the selfish and selfless. The honest and the dishonest. Good people and bad people. I let people down, I made mistakes. I strived for the unachievable and beat myself up at not getting there. I set myself up to fall.” Chad’s smile was small. “I was bad at being a good person, but I think I could be good at being a bad one.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Also,” Chad interrupted. “I had to accept I was a liar. I lied to you. I lied to Josh and Ally. I lied to my superiors and colleagues. I lied to the public. Most of all I lied to myself.”

“In what way did you lie to yourself?”

“A compromise? Really?” he laughed. “It’s not balance, it’s restraint. It’s a restraint on both parties and that creates strain, and it creates tension, and conflict and they will lead to a moment where you have to chose between doing what’s right and doing what’s wrong. And this time, there’s nothing to hold me back anymore, no sense of righteousness I’m desperate to achieve, and I choose the wrong.”

“I think we need to backpedal and go through these feelings one at a time.”

Keeley picked up the plate with the brownie and slid it closer to Chad on the coffee table.

Chad eyed her offering through a squint. “I’m not hungry.”

“The sugar will help.”

“It’s funny you say that...”

Keeley leaned back in her chair. “Why is that funny?”

Chad reached down beside the sofa and lifted a silver tin.

Romeo cocked his head, studying it, but he was certain he’d never seen it before.

Without a word, Chad placed it on the coffee table.

The resulting silence felt charged. Romeo shifted his weight from foot to foot, uneasy with the atmosphere in the living room. Chad glared at Keeley, and Romeo assumed Keeley stared right back at him.

But there was fire in Chad’s eyes, anger, but he forced a smile to his face, dulling it slightly as Keeley broke the stalemate.

“That’s from my office...”

Her soft voice barely carried to Romeo standing behind her in the doorway. It wavered, felt fragile, but Romeo imagined that was the point. Everything about Keeley looked and felt delicate, from her slender frame to her porcelain skin, and sweet smile.

The eye just seemed to skim over her like she wasn’t a threat, but Chad stared at her like she was.

“It is.” Chad replied. “Your sugar tin.”

“You ... you took it. You’re the one that broke in last night.”

“Pam mentioned months back she was having issues with the computers. They needed updating. I have to say the new ones looked good before I ripped them out last night.”

Keeley got to her feet, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re playing at here—"

“I’m not playing,” Chad snapped. “I lied to everybody, but there’s one person I didn’t lie to. There’s one person who is your downfall in this game you played with me. I didn’t lie to him when I promised him when we die, it’ll be together.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I think it’s about time I introduced you to Frank...”

Chad looked to the doorway, and Keeley turned around, following his gaze. Her mouth dropped open, a gasp punched from her lungs. She caught herself on the edge of the armchair as she attempted to flee, flopping back onto the seat. In a mad scramble she flipped open her folder, dropping her pen and notebook and got her phone.

It was effortless for Romeo to surge forward and pluck it from her fingers. He held it hostage against his palm.

“Chad...” her voice cracked, “Listen to me—”

“No. You are going to listen to me.”

Keeley rushed in Chad’s direction. “Whatever lies he’s filled your head with, they’re—”

Romeo grabbed the back of her collar, stopping her from getting to Chad. She spun around, slapping his hand away.

“He hasn’t filled my head with lies, but you have.” Chad got to his feet. “Now sit the fuck down.”

Keeley glanced between them. Romeo reclaimed his spot in the doorway, keeping vigil. Chad sat back down on the sofa, and after her pleading looks at Chad were ignored, she inched closer to the armchair and sat down, shivering from head to toe.

“You can drop the act,” Chad told her.

“I’m not acting. I’m scared,” she snuck a look at Romeo behind her. “How is this even possible?”

“He moved to Bardhum with me. He’s been here the whole time.”

“He’s not...” Keeley shrunk in on herself.

“Not what?” Chad asked.

“He’s not your savior—”

“Yes, he is.”

“He doesn’t love you.”

Romeo cracked his knuckles behind Keeley’s head.

“Yes, he does.” Chad replied.

Keeley sniffed. “I’ve only ever tried to help you, Chad.”

“But that isn’t true, is it?” He blinked. “Then again, it could be. I’ve met a few serial killers like that, they think killing people is putting them out of their misery or preventing them from further sinning.”

Keeley wiped her face. “Serial ... killer?”

“Is this how you want to be remembered? A sniveling, pathetic, meek little woman and not the intelligent serial killer who doesn’t need brawn, or intimidation, she only needs her voice,” Chad’s brown furrowed. “And a few key ingredients.”

Keeley didn’t answer.

“I’ve met a lot of killers over the years, but I think I’m most impressed by you.”

Romeo bristled in the doorway.

Chad smiled. “Bar one.”

Romeo relaxed again.

“I haven’t killed anyone,” Keeley whispered. “I don’t know where this is coming from.”

“When Ally and Josh told me I’d tried to kill myself, it felt wrong. But there was a witness, and I had reasons. My health had been on the decline, and neither of them were surprised, they were sad, but the looks of their faces suggested it had been inevitable. I was always going to kill myself.”

“You struggled after Lucinda, you—”

“Do you want to know your mistake?”

Keeley stilled.

“I went to see you after I saw Romeo at the end of Ally’s garden.” His gaze dropped to the table. “You kept offering me coffee, not in a polite way, but in a pushy one. I kept declining, but when you eventually made your own, you accidentally made me one too. You were more concerned with trying to get me to drink coffee than the apparent hallucination I’d seen of the serial killer that kidnapped me.”

“I offered you a drink,” Keeley blurted. “You can’t condemn me for that. It was to help you relax, steady your nerves.”

“When I told Romeo I’d tried to kill myself, it was his reaction. His shock, his hurt, his anger that confirmed it for me. Something wasn’t right. There was something missing. I’d promised him we’d die together you see, and I’d run off and threw myself from a bridge without him.”

Chad reached over the arm of the sofa again and grabbed his folder.

He opened it up on his lap.

“Do you know this man?” he asked, holding up a print out of Thomas Clegg.

Keeley didn’t answer.

“Of course you do. He’s one of your clients after all. He burst into one of our sessions, disheveled, desperate. I ... froze.”

“And I calmed you down after his interruption.”

“He killed himself a week later. Jumped from the top floor of the parking ramp at St Johns.”

Keeley bowed her head. “I’m well aware of the clients I have failed. Thomas had a turbulent history with his mental health. It was not his first suicide attempt—”

“It was his last, though.” Chad held up the next print off. “Alexandra Taylor. Another of your clients. She was suffering from postpartum depression and jumped with her son, Issac, from a bridge to the road below, killing them both.”

“I know she did. I tried to help her. I tried to help Thomas, but in my line of work it’s a sad occupational hazard. My clients are troubled. They are suffering. I can’t always save them from themselves and every failure cuts deep. I carry it with me. You’re showing me two of my clients, two that tragically died, but where are the success stories, the people I’ve helped, the ones I’ve saved.” Keeley held up a shaky hand, gesturing towards Romeo. “This is his influence.”

Romeo glared at the back of her head. “ He has a name.”

“I’m not a bad person, Chad,” Keeley said. “I try my best. I can’t help everybody. But I’m not... I’m not poisoning cups of coffee and talking people to their death. Can you hear how crazy that sounds?”

“It does sound crazy,” Chad agreed.

“And poisoned with what exactly?”

“Zolpidem and LSD.”

“LSD?” she laughed. “How would I even get it?”

“I’m sure you found a way.”

“Chad—”

“You should see the side effects and I’m not just talking about when you take them, I’m talking about when you take them away . Months of slow build up, reliance, and then to go cold turkey.” Chad shook his head. “Withdrawal is hell, and it’s made worst by not knowing why you feel so awful. You’re confused. Time seems to jump. You wake up, not knowing where you are or what you’re doing. I wasn’t sleeping. My head was a mess. I felt ... ill. I don’t remember getting into the car that day to visit Josh. I don’t remember walking miles to get to that bridge. I don’t remember jumping. But I do remember what it felt like to hit the water—utter confusion, and panic. I do remember what it was like struggling to break the surface, desperate not to drown. And when I did, I shouted for Romeo.”

Romeo looked at Chad. He could picture it. Water rushed in his ears. He felt the spray on his face. Chad had called for him. He’d broken the surface and called for him before being swept under.

Keeley scooted to the edge of her chair. “At our last session before you jumped, we spoke about medication, perhaps those symptoms you described were a side effect of whatever you were taking.”

“I wasn’t talking anything. When I think back to our sessions, I can’t remember them. I remember the surface level stuff, the small talk, but then nothing. An hour session and I can’t recall anything. I left feeling better for talking to you, not really understanding why, and that night I would sleep, and the dreams wouldn’t bother me.”

“Because I help you.” Keeley said, stabbing her forefinger onto her knee. “You’re my client and I care about you.”

“The dreams would get worse during the week. I thought I heard voices tormenting me. I’d wake up confused, irritable, distressed, and then it would be Saturday again. I’d have your session and I’d feel good, I’d feel lighter, and I’d sleep better that night, but the dreams would come back, and it was a cycle that kept repeating.” Chad shook his head. “But they weren’t voices , it was your voice, and the sound of storm, and you told me to jump. You told me I’d feel better if I jumped. Everyone would be happier if I jumped. Is that what you said to Alexandra when she was passed out on your couch too?”

“I didn’t—”

“Did you whisper in her ear that her husband would be better off without her? Did you tell her to jump with Issac in her arms, so he’d feel better too? And Thomas, did you say the same things to him? Did you tell him his brother, Joseph, would finally be free of the burden if he stepped off that car park roof.”

“I’d never—”

“I had a folder on my phone with their pictures, Thomas and Alexandra. He burst into the office during our session, and Alexandra, I saw her outside, pushing Issac. Issac dropped his Peter Rabbit, and Merc adopted the rabbit as his own. I linked them because I’d seen them. I couldn’t remember where, but I had. Two suicides. Both of them jumped. It didn’t sit right with me, but I didn’t get the chance to investigate.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to investigate.”

“You drugged us. You filled our heads with a need to jump. You made us reliant on these substances, and then, when you deemed the time was right, you took them away when we were at our lowest, stepped back, and waited for it to happen.”

Keeley shook her head, adamant. “This is ... this is...”

“It’s genius.” Chad smiled. “Truly. You don’t have to get your hands dirty, you don’t even have to be present when it happens. No one is surprised—in fact, in some cases, it’s expected. You help more than you kill, covering your tracks, and if anyone detects the drugs you use, it’s an unexplained trace found in your victim’s hair that a standard autopsy doesn’t even test for.” He ran out of breath. “Even this,” Chad placed his hand on the tin of sugar. “Your office is unlocked. You can claim it was tampered with at some point without your knowledge, hell, the fact that I robbed the computers so I could take it means it’ll be useless in a court of law. I’ve could’ve added the Zolpidem and LSD myself.”

“I’ve had enough of this now,” Keeley glanced over the back of the armchair at Romeo. “I’d like to leave.”

“You were never going to leave today. You came here, hoping I’d eat that brownie, hoping you could get your claws in me again and I’d fall unconscious so you could whisper your poison into my ear, but that was never going to happen.” Chad stared into Keeley’s face. “You’re going to die. He’s going to kill you, and I’m going to watch. But before that happens, you get the chance to either admit your genius or die a wide-eyed therapist with tears on your cheeks and snort on your lips.”

Chad stared.

Romeo waited.

Keeley wiped her hand across her cheeks. She’d stopped trembling and snuffling.

“You found out my biggest secret,” Chad whispered. “It’s only fair you share yours.”

“Thomas. Alexandra. You... It’s the tip of the iceberg.”

Chad nodded. “I thought as much. But it won’t be me searching for the bottom of it.”

“I guess not,” She turned to Romeo, holding a hand up to stop him when he took a step closer. “How many?”

Romeo tilted his head. When he’d finally let the monstrous part of himself free, he’d rationed his kills to five. Five times to feel how he was supposed to. Five times to play God. With Chad at his side it was no longer a count down . His kill count could go up.

It could climb and climb with no ceiling.

“You’ll be number ten.”

Keeley grinned. Her sweet facade fell away to something savage. “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do ... Countdown Killer.”

Through the boarded-up window, Romeo heard the magpies, chuckling, chortling, then screaming .

The raven, it was there too.

“Now?” Romeo asked Chad.

“Now.”