Page 24 of Six for Gold (The Magpie Rhyme #6)

S ix Months Later

“Stop it,” Chad hissed, slapping Romeo’s hand back by his side.

Romeo huffed. “It’s itchy.”

Chad pouted. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find super-soft balaclavas for your delicate face.”

“Chad...”

“Romeo.”

Even in the dark, Chad shuddered at his glare. There were only three holes in Romeo’s mask, two for his eyes, currently narrowed, and one for his mouth, pressed in an unhappy line.

Chad would never admit that he found his own balaclava itchy at hell too.

It was a necessary evil when keeping one’s identity secret.

They were dressed head to toe in black, all items of clothing indistinct. Romeo had taken off his gloves, complaining of sweaty palms and cramping fingers.

He promised he’d put them back on once they arrived at their destination.

Chad couldn’t help but remind him every few minutes not to forget.

It was important though.

Everything had to go as planned.

Romeo had wanted to drive, but Chad had shot that idea down.

There were too many cameras trained at the road and once investigators realized they had a murder case on their hands, they’d follow the camera trail, adding pressure to their escape.

Chad had seen it happen before.

Criminals panicked when under pressure. They ditched and stole cars on a daily basis, resulting in more CCTV and witnesses, and eventually a standoff once they’d exhausted themselves and law enforcement had caught up.

It didn’t take them long, unless you made it more difficult.

No road. No car. No sunlight.

Instead, they walked along a beach in the dead of night with only the stars for company, and the gentle lap of the sea to break up their excited heartbeats.

Romeo lifted his hand to scratch his chin.

“Romeo...” Chad warned. “When you pull that thing off in a few minutes, I don’t want to be distracted by a red raw rash across your face.”

“What do you want to be distracted by?”

Chad smiled. “My husband looking hot as hell.”

Romeo laughed, knocking his elbow into Chad’s.

Michael Hastings lived along the coast in Abruzzo, Italy. It wasn’t as popular with tourists as other regions, but there was a community of Brits who retired there, enjoying the Mediterranean climate.

The sun, the sand, the peace.

It was beautiful.

Michael’s villa in particular was stunning.

It had sea views and backed onto a beach with golden sand.

There was no roar of traffic from a main road, or light pollution from a city.

It was remote.

He hadn’t lived there the whole time. He’d moved around Italy, from place to place before deciding on Abruzzo to spend his golden years.

Those golden years were about to be abruptly cut short.

There were a few other properties, all the same box-like design with the shell-pink paint.

Michael didn’t spend much time with his neighbors, but he did have a carer that checked on him twice a day, once in the morning, and once in the evening.

It would be her that would find his body.

This was not a chance encounter. It was not opportunity.

It was premediated murder.

They’d watched from afar, learned their victim’s routine, knew where he’d be and when to strike, and right then, Michael was asleep in his bed, completely unaware of the danger creeping closer.

They knew he left the downstairs window open all night—it was a trustworthy place after all. The net curtain billowed from the window, almost encouraging them closer.

“Gloves,” Chad murmured.

“Like I was going to forget.”

Chad got to the window first. He hooked his gloved fingers around the edge then pulled it open as far as it would go.

Romeo helped him through, then waited at the back sliding doors for Chad to let him in.

Michael had a Ring doorbell, easily bypassed when they used the back door to enter the property. Several of the villas had them, but only one villa had a camera facing towards the sea. Luckily for them, it was on the far end of the row of properties.

They took the stairs, Romeo going first, and Chad following behind.

Michael had left his bedroom door open. A fan above him spun with a faint whistle. They both looked down on him sleeping peacefully, oblivious to what was about to happen.

“Ready?” Chad asked.

“Ready.”

Chad flicked on the bedside light.

Michael startled, groaning as he woke. His eyes shot open when he caught sight of the two masked men standing by the bed, and he flailed, arms swiping through the air in an attempt to defend himself.

He said something in Italian, and Romeo snapped a reply before switching to English.

“Up,” Romeo growled, taking his arm. He yanked him out from beneath the sheets. Michael stumbled, going to his knees. Romeo took hold of his pajama top, pulling him to his feet.

“Take what you want,” Michael said.

“Don’t worry,” Romeo replied. “We will.”

He dragged Michael from the room. Chad watched him go, then moved around the bedroom, yanking open drawers, and upturning the contents. The only noteworthy item was a Rolex watch, which he snatched from the box.

When Chad came downstairs, Michael sat at the table, trembling as he shot pleading looks at Romeo. The more he tried to gain sympathy with Romeo, the angrier Romeo got until he viewed Michael through a squint, showing only a sliver of his green eyes.

“Please,” Michael said. “I don’t have much. There’s ... there’s a tin of money in the cupboard.”

He pointed with a shaking finger to the kitchen area. Chad strode over, and opened cupboard after cupboard despite Michael’s wavering voice telling him it was the one on the end.

Chad pocketed the money, then dropped the tin on the floor.

Romeo, ever the gentleman, pulled a chair out for Chad on the opposite side of the table to Michael. Chad bowed his head in thanks, then went to sit down.

Romeo stood by the back door, arms folded, head cocked.

Chad looked past Michael to the shelves on the wall. There were photographs of Michael’s grandchildren, his great grandchildren, but the biggest picture was of Lucinda, central on the middle shelf.

There was a picture of Lucinda, several in fact, but none of Harriet, his other dead daughter.

Chad pulled off his mask, giving the green light for Romeo to do the same.

Michael glanced at Romeo, but his look held no recognition. He took a longer look at Chad, then pressed back in his chair.

“DC Chad Fuller.”

Romeo tutted. Chad imagined he was pissed he hadn’t been recognized but the disgraced detective from Bardhum had. “I don’t go by that title ... or that name anymore.”

“W-what is this?” Michael uttered, glancing between them.

“On face value it will look like a burglary gone wrong. That’ll give us at least two days to get well clear.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. That’s why you’re going to explain it to me.”

Michael shook his head. He shot a clueless look at Chad.

“Why did you murder your daughter Mr. Hastings?”

Michael’s lips popped open. His breath hitched. “I didn’t. I’d never hurt one of my daughters.”

“You didn’t tell the police Lucinda stayed at her friend Candice’s house on the night Harriet went missing.”

“She took my truck, I didn’t want—”

“You needed an alibi.”

Michael turned to Romeo. “Are you hearing this?”

Romeo stuck a savage finger out at him. “Don’t look at me. Look at him.”

There was a growl in Romeo’s voice that said bad things would happen if he kept looking at Romeo. Bad things were going to happen regardless, but Chad needed to say what he had to first. This wasn’t about getting a confession, not anymore. This was about laying down the reason Michael was about to die.

“Here’s what I think happened,” Chad said, bracing his gloved hands on the table. “I think Harriet got picked up from school by James Poole that afternoon. I think they drove to Melbourn Spring, and I think they got into an argument.”

“Lucinda went after him,” Michael said. “She thought it was James that killed her sister, not Vincent. She thought you were helping James cover it up. So she ... she killed him.”

Chad carried on as if Michael hadn’t spoken. “I imagine James, aware that there was a serial killer about, tried to convince Harriet to get back into the car, but she refused. He drove off, she started walking home. It was quite a long way from the spring to your farm. The last part of it is a single-track road, relatively straight, straight enough that Harriet would’ve seen if you were driving towards her—”

“I didn’t get in the truck—"

“I know you didn’t. Lucinda did, but what I’m saying is Harriet would’ve seen it in the distance coming. She would’ve assumed it was you, her dad that hated James Poole, with good reason I might add, her dad that would offer her no comfort after her and James’s falling out.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying she probably hid. There’s enough hedges and trees along that road to easily get behind. The truck goes past, maybe Harriet still thought it was you, or maybe she saw Lucinda going by, it doesn’t matter. It went by, and Harriet continued on her way home. That’s why Lucinda never saw her sister.”

“This is ludicrous,” Michael laughed without humor. “It’s fantasy. Vincent Whitehall kidnapped and murdered my daughter.”

“Vincent Whitehall was a convenient person to blame for an accident,” Chad lifted his eyebrow. “Unless it wasn’t an accident.”

“Are you seriously suggesting I—”

“You checked into a hotel rather than stay with your family on the farm. There was plenty of room. It might not have been the ideal time, but you would’ve gotten to see your grandsons,” Chad glanced at the pictures on the shelves. “Your great grandsons.”

“I didn’t want to inconvenience them—”

“When I first met you, and we discussed Harriet and her tattoo. Your words were, ‘there’s no way you’ve found her’. That was odd ... how could you be so sure, that was what we were trying to achieve after all, but you were adamant we hadn’t found her, and the thought that Vincent had seen this tattoo that even you didn’t know about, confused you. The rib as well, what I mistook for horror was actually confusion and mild panic. That’s why you had to leave.”

Michael pressed his lips in a thin line. All the color left them.

“Your wife wrote to Vincent over the years, trying to appeal to his human side by telling him stories about Harriet. She told him about the accident with the bike and her missing rib. She told him about the tattoo once she’d found out about it from Gavin, Harriet’s ex-boyfriend. That’s how he knew, not because he’d seen her, but because of information he’d picked up over the years. I think you were so certain we hadn’t found her because you know where she is. I think you were confused about Vincent’s revelations because you just couldn’t understand where he’d gotten that information from.”

“No,” Michael bowed his head. “That’s not true.”

“I think you were desperate to move away from Little Wren, abandoning your wife and your remaining daughter in the process, not because of grief, but because of guilt. I think that’s also the reason there are no photographs of Harriet in this villa. I’d even go as far as saying that the reason you didn’t stay on that farm with your family during the search for her remains is because you know where she is, you know she’s there. She’s still on that fucking farm.”

Michael dropped his head into his hands, sobbing. Out of the corner of Chad’s eye, he saw Romeo shifting, getting edgy, needing Chad to wrap things up.

“That got me thinking,” Chad whispered. “If I killed someone, where could I hide them on your farm with only a night to dispose of them. It’s a big area, but it would be searched, huge numbers of locals would come out to search the land, and dogs,” Chad nodded. “There would be dogs, not cadaver dogs at first, but they’d be used, too, eventually.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a folded blueprint of the cottages on the farm. “Three of them are modern, one is older, but one,” Chad stabbed his finger down on the page. “This one is really old. It has a septic tank, doesn’t it?”

Michael didn’t answer.

“Scent dogs ... well, the cottage would’ve smelled of Harriet anyway, and the cadaver dogs weren’t taken to the right place, they were used in the ditches around your property. Harriet had vanished, and after initially blaming James, you must’ve been relieved the police were linking her to other disappearances of young women. You must’ve thought you won the lottery when Vincent Whitehall was caught and claimed Harriet as one of his victims. You’d gotten away with it. But I guess defecating on your own daughter’s dead body started to get to you.”

“Stop it,” Michael snapped. He lurched upright. Romeo took a step closer, but Chad held up his hand, telling him to wait. “Don’t talk about her like that. I-it was an accident.”

“What was?”

“I didn’t mean to kill her. But she blamed me for James ending things with her. She never understood I was just trying to protect her. He was a predator. She pushed me, and I ... I hit her. I wrapped my hands around her neck. She was always the ungrateful one, always pushing my buttons. I think part of why she liked James was because she knew it angered me. I killed her, and I didn’t know what to do. I’d only had the septic tank drained the month before, had watched them do it. There was access to it beside the cottage, and I shoved her down the shaft. She’s been there ever since.”

“She was a few meters from her mum and sister the whole time.”

“I didn’t mean to kill her. It was the heat of the moment. An accident. I’ve had to live with that—”

Chad snorted. “You’ve been here, sunning it up while your wife desperately pleaded with a serial killer to be allowed her daughter’s body parts. A serial killer that hadn’t even killed her. That’s what she wanted more than anything, to be reunited with her daughter in death.”

Michael’s top lip curled. “Well, she got another daughter to join her in her grave, didn’t she.”

Chad stiffened.

“Chad...” Romeo growled.

He held up his hand again, keeping Romeo at bay.

“She did,” Chad whispered. “And I played my part in that. But it wouldn’t have happened. None of that would have, if you’d just told us where Harriet was. You could’ve made an anonymous phone call, I doubt there’s much evidence on your daughter’s body now to implicate you, but you didn’t. I’m going to do what you should have. I’m going to make that anonymous call to reunite whatever is left of Harriet with her mother and sister.”

“What about me?” Michael asked. “What happens to me?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Chad said. “Because I’m sick of the sight of you. I’m sick of the sight of you ... alive .”

Michael’s brow twitched in confusion.

Chad looked to Romeo. “Kill him.”

“Wait just a minute,” Michael said, getting to his feet.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything else. In two strides Romeo had crossed the room and taken hold of Michael’s throat in his right hand. Michael pushed Romeo in the chest, crashing into the table as he tried to get away, but Romeo didn’t let go. He started to squeeze.

Michael gaped and flailed like a fish on a line, trying to twist his way out of Romeo’s hold. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Chad tucked the blueprint back into his hoodie and got to his feet. He rounded the table, heading for Romeo who grunted when Michael managed to strike him in the face. Michael scrambled backwards, pulling Romeo with him and knocking into the wall.

Romeo pinned him against it, and Michael’s eyes widened when he realized he couldn’t escape.

Chad knew Romeo was toying with his prey. He could’ve used both hands and dealt with Michael in seconds, but he was waiting for Chad. As soon as Chad got within reach, Romeo yanked him close with his free hand, so his back was to Romeo’s chest, and they were in the same position they had been when they killed Keeley.

“I fucking love this part,” Romeo murmured, dropping a kiss to Chad’s neck.

He covered Chad’s left hand with his left hand, slotting his fingers through the gaps, then brought it up to Michael’s throat to take over while they put their right hands in the same position, fingers joined, gloves linked with gloves then pressed against skin. Michael clawed at the hands on his throat, but it made no difference.

His hands dropped away as both Chad and Romeo squeezed.

Four hands crushed the life from Michael Hastings.

Burglary on the surface.

But as soon as the pathologist looked at his neck, the almost impossible compression from one pair of hands, not desperate, not spare of the moment, but deliberate, absolute.

Then they’d know it was cold-blooded murder.

It would be their signature.

The bruises would be darker. The blood vessels would be ruptured, and every piece of cartilage would be squashed flat, forced back to the spine, scraping on it enough to leave a mark that would be recorded.

Their murders would be far apart, both in time, and in location, and it would be years before somebody linked them.

Romeo nipped Chad’s neck. “I love you so fucking much.”

Chad turned his head, lips parted, encouraging a kiss from Romeo.

Romeo groaned as he pressed into it, slipping his tongue against Chad’s.

They kissed while they killed, and the whole time they felt Michael’s pulse through their hands, slowing, slowing, and then it stopped, and raw desire took over.

Chad kissed Romeo hard enough he could feel Romeo’s pulse on his lips and hear it in his ears. Romeo matched him. He curled his arms around Chad, taking Chad’s arms with him, their fingers still entwined.

Michael must’ve hit the ground but neither of them noticed.

Romeo rocked his hips, driving his erection into the back of Chad.

Chad broke the kiss to scowl him. “Remember what I said.”

“No,” Romeo panted, “Not right now.”

“We can’t fuck here,” Chad reminded.

Romeo knocked his forehead to the side of Chad’s cheek. He groaned. “Now I remember. Something about saliva, and hair, and skin, and semen,” he kept Chad’s arms hostage, crushing Chad to his chest as he thrusted against him. “My cum dripping down your legs,” he leaned down to nip Chad’s bottom lip. “Leaving drops of it on the floor.”

“Yes,” Chad swallowed. It was getting harder and harder not to give in and let Romeo undo his trousers. “We ... we need to avoid that.”

“Me jerking your cock while I’m inside of you,” Romeo panted wetly by Chad’s ear. “Making you come all over the furniture.”

“Christ, Romeo,” Chad’s eyes rolled back. He would’ve covered his ears if Romeo wasn’t still pinning his hands. “We ... we need to leave.”

“Right now?” Romeo murmured. “Are you sure?”

Chad shook his head, then nodded, then shook it again. “I... I...”

“Why didn’t you just say?” Romeo asked, tugging Chad back.

“I hate you a little.” Chad sighed dreamily, walking with Romeo to the sliding door.

“Really?” Romeo asked. He quirked an eyebrow. “You’re going to love me in a minute...”

“Is that so?”

“It’s so,” Romeo replied. “I’m going to have to cover your mouth so you don’t scream my name. My real name.”

Chad shut the sliding door after them.

Romeo pursued him down the beach, herding him like prey.

Chad panted as he watched Romeo over his shoulder, wanting to be caught.

His green eyes shone, and his muscles tensed as he curled his body forward, ready to pounce.

Romeo tackled him.

He pushed Chad down until he was on all fours on the sand.

“Got you...” he smirked, dropping to his knees behind Chad.

He yanked Chad’s trousers down, exposing him.

“No underwear,” Romeo groaned. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Chad flashed a smile over his shoulder. “We really should put the masks back on—”

“Not happening,” Romeo said.

He bit off his gloves, then spat on his fingers.

Chad bit his lip, waiting for Romeo to stretch him open.

“What the...” Romeo muttered, entranced, as he stroked his thumb over Chad’s hole. He pushed it inside, groaning at how easily Chad’s body opened up for it. He started pumping in two fingers, chuckling to himself when he realized how easy they moved in and out, how he could scissor them, and press against Chad’s soft rim. “That’s why you were so long getting ready.”

He added a third finger, then a fourth, sitting back on his heels to watch them going in and out of Chad’s ready hole, one hand braced on Chad’s lower back to keep him steady, leaning back to get a good view.

Chad had stretched himself with lube before they left, imagining the night to come. He’d been desperate to jerk off while doing it, but managed to hold back.

“Premeditated,” Chad smirked. “All of it.”

“You’re so goddam perfect, Mr. Knight.”

Romeo surged to his knees and replaced his fingers with his cock.

He didn’t hold back.

He didn’t need to.

Chad clawed at the sand as Romeo took hold of his hips, pounding into him to release them both of the need that had taken over the moment Michael’s heart had stopped.

He opened his mouth, about to shout Romeo’s name, but Romeo leaned over and muffled him with his palm.

“You trying to get us caught?” Romeo chuckled, easing his hand away from Chad’s mouth. “Control yourself.”

“Romeo,” Chad growled through gritted teeth.

Romeo chuckled.

His grip was bruising, and Chad couldn’t wait to admire the marks when they appeared purple in a few days’ time. Romeo fucked into Chad, tugging on Chad’s hips at the same time he drove his cock inside, making sure it went deep, making sure Chad felt all of it.

“You were made for me,” Romeo murmured. “Whatever sick fuck out there decided to put me on this planet put you on it too. We were supposed to find each other. Our paths were always destined to cross,” he tipped his head up to the stars. “And we don’t get the tragic ending.”

Chad managed to shake off the glove on his right hand. He braced his weight on one forearm so he could reach between his legs and take his cock in hand. He shut his eyes and jerked himself while Romeo took him apart.

“Not even the end of us will be tragic,” Romeo breathed. “Because we’ll be together.”

Chad slowed his hand.

“We’ll jump together,” Chad whispered to the sand.

The next time he jumped, it would be with Romeo.

He could see it.

His hand in Romeo’s, their fingers knotted together.

They’d fall with smiles on their lips, love in their hearts and eyes locked on one another as they hit the ground.

And when they were found, bloody and crumpled, with bones jutting and organs leaking, their hands, with misshapen fingers and broken wrists, would still be linked.

Forever.

The image made Chad both happy and sad.

His eyes stung, and a tear ran down his cheek.

But it wasn’t the end.

It was a long time in the future, decades even.

They had time, lots of poison-free time where he’d enjoy every moment.

Chad arched his back, pushing back onto Romeo’s deep thrusts. He jerked his cock until he was coming onto the sand, clenching involuntarily, tugging on Romeo’s cock, disrupting his rhythm.

Romeo moaned, flexing his hips a final few times as he unloaded inside Chad’s body. He collapsed on Chad’s back, before slipping to the side, and landing on the sand.

Chad lay down next to him, heaving for breath as they both looked up at the stars.

“That’s one off the list,” Romeo said.

It would grow, they both knew it would, but Chad had personal scores to settle.

“Who next?” Romeo asked.

“I think it’s about time we pay a certain journalist a visit...”

Romeo hummed, smiling. “Couldn’t agree with you more, but might I suggest something else first...”

Chad turned to him. “What?”

Romeo took Chad’s hand, his left hand. He pulled off Chad’s remaining glove and stroked his fingers. “Let’s get married.”

“We are married. Our passports. All our documents—”

“I know. But let’s actually do it.”

Chad smiled. “Yeah?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“Okay,” Chad said softly. He beamed at Romeo. “We will.”

Romeo exhaled a pleased breath. “The next time we strangle someone to death, there will be rings glinting on our fingers. Ones that say you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“The Knights.”

“Yes,” Romeo leaned in to kiss Chad on the lips. “Mr & Mr Knight.”