Page 46 of Two for Joy

“Can I go back to reading your mail now?”

Romeo lifted his eyebrow. “Yeah, knock—no, bash yourself out…”

Chapter Eight

It was Romeo’s favorite time of the week, the only reason to get through each day. He stared at the door that would reveal Chad, and willed it to open, prayed Chad wouldn’t keep him waiting any longer.

When the door finally opened, Romeo’s smile dropped, and he stared at Chad. Then he shifted his eyes to the man beside him, Chad’s DI.

Lucas Grimes.

Bald, slightly wider since the last time Romeo had seen him. That had been when Romeo spied on him through his hospital door, willing himnotto die of his heart attack.

There were deep bags under his eyes, but his shirt was tucked in, his tie was straight, he was at least trying to look professional. A month had passed since James Clerk’s death, and Romeo had half expected a visit from the DI. He just wasn’t expecting it to encroach on his time with Chad.

The DI pointed sternly at Paul and Fred.

“Get out.”

Paul floundered. “What?”

He flashed his police badge. “Wait outside the door. This is a private matter.”

Romeo listened as they scurried out of the room, then the door latched behind them.

“How’s the heart?” he asked.

The DI paused, rocked back on his heels, then marched over to his chair with a sneer wrinkling his face. “The heart’s fine, thank you for asking.”

“As nice as it is to see you again, why are you here? This is mine and Chad’s time.”

“Not today.”

Chad wasn’t looking at him, he’d backed away and leaned on the wall. He looked tired, and slumped, chin practically on his collar bone, as he stared at the floor. Romeo looked at his hand at his side, tightening and relaxing in a manic action.

The DI moved into Romeo’s eyeline, stealing his attention from Chad.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.” The DI placed a folder on the table, then unwound the string fastening it. “Your cell is being searched as we speak.”

“Searched? For what?”

The DI retrieved an envelope with the prison’s address printed on the outside. The sorting stamp from a different region of the country.

“A few days ago, we contacted the prison, asked them to keep hold of your mail for the foreseeable future.”

“You’re gonna disappoint Will…”

The DI opened the envelope and pulled free a picture of a magpie feather. “Do you know who this is from?”

Chad looked at Romeo, then quickly resumed his staring contest with the floor. It had been a month since Chad had sent the second feather, and he’d tried a third, but Romeo couldn’t work out the reason for it.

They were fine.

“No.” Romeo said.

“Why would someone send you magpie feathers?”

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