Page 19 of Three for a Girl

“It just might … poison me?”

“There’s no ‘might’ about it. Come on then, Chad, introduce yourself, warts and all.”

“I think my warts are all well documented.”

Ally clacked her tongue. “I wanna hear them from you.”

He wiped his hand down his face, thinking through what he was going to say. He had to speak of Romeo in past tense, he was supposedly dead after all.

“I was held captive by not one, but two serial killers, Romeo Knigh—

Ally yawned dramatically, and Chad snapped his eyes to her. The corner of her lips lifted in a half smile.

“I want to know you, not what happened to you.”

He frowned. “Chad Fuller. Loves sci-fi movies and crosswords puzzles, hates parsnips and prawns, and absolutely doesn’t eat snot.”

“I don’t know why the snot thing came up, but nice to meet you, Chad. I heard you got a hefty pay out from the Canster Times.”

“I did.”

“Then why throw yourself back out there? Why not go off into the sunset, live the rest of your life on some exotic beach?”

“That’s not me. It’s not who I am.” He pulled his jacket. “This is me.”

That was the truth of it. The detective was all he had.

“Good answer.” She smiled. “You’ve been ordered to see a shrink weekly?”

“Yeah.”

“How was it?”

He shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

Ally stared at him for a few moments then looked away. “So, the DI’s partnered us together … I’d like to say it’s for your benefit, but I think it’s for Josh and Faye’s. They can’t handle me.”

“What makes you think I can?”

“You’ve survived two serial killers—they were good practice for me.” She winked, and cackled before tilting her head to the windscreen. “We’re here. St Johns.”

****

A doctor met them in reception and led them through the hospital.

Chad pushed away his own unease and fixed his sights on the signs for the ICU. Patients, nurses, and other medical staff all cleared the way for them, and the doctor took them into an office.

The blinds were lowered, and he flicked the lights on. A schedule was pinned to the back of the door, and the walls were covered in thank you cards, most of which either had flowers or cars printed on the front.

“Here they are.” The doctor said, stepping out of the way of a desk. What looked like an ice-cream tub was placed in the middle next to an engine shaped mug.

Ally pulled some gloves from her pocket and fought to get her hands inside.

“Just the box, not the mug.”

“No, the mug’s mine.” He slid it away.

“Don’t touch the box.” She warned.

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