Page 115 of Three for a Girl

Romeo had kissed up his neck before turning Chad in his arms for a proper press of lips. Chad had resisted, but it didn’t deter Romeo. He kept pecking, and nibbling until Chad slipped under his spell and kissed him back.

Romeo was back at home, no doubt pacing the outbuilding as he waited to see whether it was going to be the night or not.

Chad didn’t pace, but he flexed his hand at his side, pumping it like a heart, one stiffening and struggling the longer he had to wait.

Chad squinted at the car on the horizon. It breezed down the road until it was close enough for Chad to see the color, then the model, before finally the driver inside.

He forced his stiff legs to move, and stepped out of the tree line. He stood at the side of the road with his thumb up, looking as if he was hitching a ride. The car zoomed by, flapping Chad’s suit and he stayed frozen to the spot, staring at the place Carter’s car had just been.

It wasn’t destined to be that night, and Chad didn’t know whether he wanted to curse, or rejoice. He was stuck in between both relieved and disappointed.

A coldness swept through him, and he shivered. An engine whined behind him, complaining it was being reversed up the road.

“Detective Fuller?”

It felt like it took an age, but Chad turned to face him. The smile he mustered didn’t round his cheeks or lift his eyes, it was flat of emotion.

“Doctor Carter.”

“Hey, Chad, I thought that was you.”

Carter had wound down his window, and was craning his neck out. Shades covered his eyes despite the grey clouds looming above.

“I didn’t recognize the car.”

“Oh, this is the one I take to work, the Jaguar’s still being repaired.”

“This one’s nice, too.”

“The latest BMW, all the extras—the paint cost me a small fortune, slate grey—but it’s worth it.”

“It sure is.”

Carter laughed. “You don’t have to pretend. I know you’re not a fellow petrol head.”

A drop of rain streaked down the car, Chad watched its decent before tilting his head up at the sky.

“What the hell are you doing out here anyway?”

“Car’s broken down.”

Carter whipped his head up and down the road. “You don’t have much luck with cars do you?”

“I didn’t miss-park this time.”

“Glad to hear it. Where abouts?”

“Back over there,” Chad said, pointing into the distance. “I’ve been walking for at least a few miles.”

“Get in, I’ll drive you to your car and sort you out a recovery vehicle.”

Doubt pinged in Chad’s head, and the voice he’d pushed to the back of his mind blared back to life. It couldn’t be Carter. It just couldn’t be. He was a good man. A doctor. He’d saved Marcy’s life for god’s sake.

“Chad?”

Carter slid his glasses up into his hair.

The blue of his eyes, and the sincerity in his smile screamed out honesty. It was a mask, a caring, compassionate mask, designed to throw anyone off his scent.Or was it?

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