Page 28 of Two for Joy

“You’re not far off actually.”

“Sicko.”

“Enough.” Fred said.

Romeo sighed. “I think that’s enough about me. What about you?”

Chad looked away. “Aside from work, I got mail, ate in my apartment, exercised in my apartment … that’s it.”

“Jesus, which one of us is locked up again? At least I had a little fun in my cell, too…”

“I’ve been too distracted for fun.”

Romeo sighed, then dropped his gaze to the newspaper. “Crossword?”

“Yeah.”

Chad flattened the newspaper on the table, then flashed a look at Romeo. He returned Chad’s pointed look, then hummed as he leaned forward to see the “clues.”

“A portable container,” Romeo said carefully, “could be used to carry files, papers, four letters.”

The answer was case, and Chad’s eyes sparked with understanding. He nodded, studying the crossword. He’d only confirmed what Romeo already knew, acaseChad was working on was the reason for his haunted look, and his restless nights, but his insecurity… Romeo didn’t understand how that fit.

Chad licked his lips. “What about this, to recreate, four letters.”

Copy.

Romeo shook his head. “No idea. I think my brain’s slowly wasting away in here … give me another.”

“A house pet, three letters.”

Something clicked in Romeo’s head. He widened his eyes, looking Chad up and down. His brow twitched, the redness to his eyes seemed even more intense. His haggard, haunted appearance made sense.

Copycat.

“Dog.” Paul said. “House pet, three letters. It’s dog.”

Chad broke eye contact with Romeo and looked at Paul. He smiled, but it was all fake. “Yeah, course it is … thanks.”

“And you’re the detective…”

“A detective that’s lost his mind apparently.”

“You said it…”

Romeo turned around, and fixed Paul with a glare. He heard Chad close the newspaper then folded it on the table. It had served its purpose, the puzzle page in the Canster Times allowed them to send secret messages, but only when it was allowed in the prison. When murders were headline news, Chad was prohibited from bringing them inside.

There was a copycat killer on the loose. The reason for Chad’s torment, and it was yet to hit the press. The public didn’t know.

“Sorry, I’m just tired.”

Chad wiped his hand down his face, not suspicious to anyone watching, but Romeo looked at all the digits on his hand, all spread out, indicating five. The Copycat Killer had got his number five.

It was too much information to take in, and Romeo couldn’t dissect how he was feeling.

There was someone else out there, murdering, marking his victims. There must’ve been a lot of similarities if Chad was calling him a copycat. Someone else with the same urges as him, maybe they used their hands, too, marked their victim with a burned number, used their victim’s possessions.

His countdown had triggered someone else’s, maybe they were counting down to their freedom, too. An allowance to get rid of their desires—their monster, once and for all.

---