Page 90 of The Chemist

Marc’s eyes narrowed. Sometimes, the guy gave off creepy serial-killer vibes. He was odd, mostly quiet, and only spoke when he really needed to. Most of the time, it was his chatterbox husband, Alex, who kept the airwaves flowing with chatter.

“Do you really think I would let that monster get away with what’s he done?” Marc asked, looking at him like he was allkinds of stupid. “I’m here to make sure we nail his ass, then close this fucking case.”

Zero nodded. He could live with that. Supposedly, Marc was some kind of genius when it came to strategizing and finding out information.

“You boys should go get some sleep. We got a long day ahead of ourselves tomorrow,” Marc commented, glancing over at Diesel, who had already lost interest in the conversation.

The next morning, they all huddled in the living room while Marc played around on his tablet, eyebrows scrunching as he searched for something.

Zero sat in the armchair, popping grapes into his mouth, while Diesel sat with his back against the wall, munching on a roast beef sandwich.

“You boys want a drink?” Chase asked, walking into the room with Jared following behind.

“No thanks,” they all mumbled, not bothering to even look up.

Chase plopped himself down on the sofa next to his boss, Marc, while Jared slid in next to his best friend, who was sitting on the floor.

Finally, Marc let out a breath before looking up from his tablet.

“Sorry, guys. If that television wasn’t from the nineteen eighties and ready to die, I would have been able to cast my tablet onto the TV and walk you through my notes. So instead, you’re all going to have to use your imagination and picture itwith that special little brain of yours.” Marc growled, seeming annoyed and not happy to be here.

Perhaps he just missed his husband, Alex? For the handful of times Zero had seen them both together, they always seemed attached at the hips.

No. More like he’s pissed that you failed at your mission, and he had to come all the way to London to finish the job, that inner voice scolded.

Zero did feel like a failure. He was hired to help with his investigations, yet here he was, unable to take down one fucking awkward scientist.

“So, we know that there are multiple victims, all with similar backstories. They all woke up in various locations across London, each with bruises, cuts, and other sorts of lacerations, with no memory of where they had been or how they got their injuries. All they remember was attending some fancy party but don’t remember where the party was or how they got there,” Marc began. He swiped at the tablet with his finger. “Victims are both male and female, ranging in age from eighteen to twenty-eight. The only commonality between the victims is that they all like to party. Hard.”

The room fell silent, with all eyes falling on Diesel.

“Kind of like you,” Marc added.

Diesel’s face flushed. “What do you mean,kind of like me?” He raised his hoodie, placing it over his head as he continued to glare at the man sitting on their couch.

Seeing Diesel raise his hoodie, Zero immediately knew what that meant—Diesel was uncomfortable with Marc’s comment.

Marc wasn’t exactly known for his tact. While being a little odd, he was always direct and wasn’t afraid to call people out on their bullshit. After a night of drinking, Chase had told him once that Marc kidnapped a client just to prove the man wrongabout his strength in security. Apparently, Marc also kidnapped his current husband… but that was a story for another time.

“The victims were all heavy drug and alcohol users, which is also why the police never took their claims seriously. Who would believe that a druggie was kidnapped or assaulted? The police just chalked it up to the victims got high, blacked out, then hurt themselves during their drug-induced hallucinations or shit.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.” Diesel huffed. “The cops should take any complaint seriously, no matter who the person is.”

Marc nodded in agreement. “I totally agree. Unfortunately, that’s not the reality we live in. Addicts, prostitutes, and other socially disenfranchised individuals are often ignored or turned away because of people’s biases and misconceptions.” Marc looked back down at his tablet and swiped the surface once again. Apparently, that was enough on that topic for the morning.

“Now, Edwin’s journal entry doesn’t give us much more information. Just a few details on the doc, some information on his personality, and that he suspected the man of doping his victims and having them assaulted. He doesn’t get into details regarding the type of assault or where these acts took place. Zero and Jared were able to snap a photo of an invitation to a private party. We believe that this might be the same party that the victims were all invited to. We will stake out the party and see what goes down. Hopefully, we get enough evidence to confirm our suspicions about the doc.”

“And then what?” Jared asked, his hands folded neatly in his lap as he listened intently.

“Then we take him out.” There was such coldness in Marc’s voice. Like the act of taking someone’s life meant nothing to the man.

Zero always knew that Marc was a little different, but was he secretly one of these super smart, high-functioning serial killerswho had a basement or cabin full of body parts?Was he even working for the right side?

Shifting in his seat, Zero glanced over at Diesel, who was playing with the strings of his hoodie, while glaring at the grumbly American sitting on their couch. Perhaps now, Diesel would understand what they all went through when dealing with his growly personality. Diesel wasn’t exactly Mr. Sunshine.

Or perhaps he is conducting his own threat assessment to determine if the man leading this charge is a deranged psycho who suddenly appeared in their house uninvited.

He hoped Diesel realized that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him while he was around.

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