Page 18 of Three for a Girl

Chad gripped his seatbelt, but didn’t pull it across. Ally raised her eyebrows looking at him. He’d been dreading someone asking about Marc and Romeo. He preferred when people didn’t voice their question, or god forbid, unload their explanations.

“Which is?” he asked.

“Do you drink coffee?”

“Erm, yes.”

“Then me and you are gonna get on just fine.”

Chad snorted, shaking his head and fastened his seatbelt. Ally started the car and took off fast enough to knock Chad’s head into the headrest.

He thought of Gareth, but the good feeling faded. Once he’d thought of Gareth as his best friend, but not anymore. Their relationship had soured after Romeo and severed all together after his move.

“There was a lot of eyes following you through the station.”

“I was expecting it.”

“Still shit, though, isn’t it? Trust me when I say, my eyes will follow you for the right reason.”

“Which is?”

“You got a cute ass.”

Chad laughed, “Thanks.”

“No, worries. You got a thing for older women?”

“I’m a man … man.”

“Shame. Now the DI’s done the boring introductions, I’ll do the interesting ones. DI Sharpe. Forty-five, married, two kids, nice house.”

“Sounds ordinary.”

“Ex gambling addict—don’t drink with him, he’ll drag you into a betting shop and all will go to hell.”

“Right—

“Josh, thirty-one. Unhealthy obsession with video games, he’ll say he’s working on his phone, but he’s not, he’s playing virtual darts. Likes football, hates snakes.”

Chad grinned. “And Faye?”

“Dear, oh dear, how she’s got this far as a homicide detective I’ll never know. Forty-two, married with three kids. She’s been white as a sheet since she found out about your transfer.”

“She’s scared of me?”

“Scared she’ll say something wrong, that’s all. She’s sweet really, but I’m more into my savory. My battle scarred, still standing strong guys.”

“I wouldn’t say I was a strong guy.”

“Who says I’m talking about you … but for the record, you are.”

“How about Ally?”

“Ally,” she hummed, “she hot for fifty.”

“You’re fifty?”

Ally tapped her finger on the wheel, “Which is a hundred percent the right thing to say, in the perfect wonderous tone. Widowed. My cooking is awful, but if I ever cook for you, feel blessed, it means I like you.”

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