Page 134 of Five for Silver

How could he have been so sure theyhadn’t?

“Shit,” Chad whispered. He adjusted hisrearview mirror to see the road behind, but the truck was longgone. “His flight … he’s going back to Italy.”

And then it was Lucy’s voice he heard in hishead, telling Chad about how her dad had struggled to cope at thefarm, and in Bardhum and had left for a job abroad only six monthsafter Vincent’s confession.

Even when visiting, he’d not wanted to stayon the farm, but had chosen a hotel close to Wiltknot. A knottightened in Chad’s gut, and he tugged his phone from his jeans,about to call the station, then he stopped.

They wouldn’t believe him.

He was no longer a detective.

He was Chad,justChad.

And his and Romeo’s justice worked a littledifferently.

Epilogue

The sun emerged over the horizon as Chaddrank his coffee. He’d woken breathless after another bout ofdreams. Marc, Tate, Vincent, and Lucy had all been in them, amishmash of moments his subconscious had thrown together with notrue beginning or end.

Romeo had crushed him to his chest, murmuredreassurances, hoping to help Chad drift off again, but he’d onlysucceeded in sending himself back to sleep.

Chad didn’t mind.

Listening to Romeo snore while being pressedhard enough to him to feel his heart beating was far more peacefulthan sleep ever could be, but he decided he’d take Ally’s adviceand call Doctor Blake.

Chad grew restless in bed, and had managedto escape Romeo’s arms and trudge downstairs.

His head throbbed. His eyes were dry, and hesniffled, reaching for a tissue. He blew his nose as quietly aspossible not to disturb Romeo above.

Merc stood at his side, drooling already ashe waited for his bowl to be filled.

“It’s a little early,” Chad told him, butfilled it anyway.

Merc dove his head in the bowl and startedchomping. His collar jangled as it hit the bowl, and Chad thoughtof the gun, the click of the barrel closing, the snap of thetrigger.

Chad left the kitchen to grab something fromhis coat. He returned, took a deep breath, then looked down at hisID card. A younger Chad looked up at him. One before Romeo. He usedthe same passport photo he had in Canster. The Chad in the picturewas eager to prove himself, desperate even, the public’s approvalmeant everything to him.

Not anymore.

He tugged open the cutlery drawer andgrabbed a sharp pair of scissors.

Chad cut the card lengthways, slicingthrough his own throat, then he dropped the pieces in the trash binand turned to the window.

He sighed, then frowned as the bird feederscaught his eye.

The rising sun glinted off them, dazzlingChad until he put down his coffee and moved to the pantry to grabthe bird seed. He slipped on Romeo’s mud-covered boots and grabbedhis reaper coat from the stair banister before trapsing outside tofill the feeders.

Merc followed after he’d finished hisbiscuits and proceeded to gobble up the escaping seeds that hit theground.

“There,” he said, glancing around the trees,but magpies didn’t swarm him like they did Romeo. All was still andquiet. He sighed, and trudged his way back, whistling Merc toheel.

“That’s a good look on you,” Romeo said asChad stepped inside the kitchen.

“I think you pull off the reaper better thanI ever could.”

Romeo snorted, then resumed scrollingthrough his phone. Chad slipped out of his boots, then passed Romeoto hang up his coat.

Romeo bit his lip, glancing up from Chad’sphone.

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