“So, what’s the attraction to the gym?” Osian was enjoying pretending to be on a stakeout. They’d found a table outside a café next door to the gym. “I’m not getting it. Look at them; they’re jogging. In place. I can jog in Covent Garden. Get whistled at, cursed out, grab a cake and coffee, and be home safely in an hour.”
Dannel snorted into his tea. “Some of us care about being our best selves.”
“I care about not being surrounded by the sweat of the masses.” Osian had a great view of Noah through the window. “Is it wrong to want him to trip and face plant?”
“Probably.”
“How are we going to get him to answer our questions?” Osian kept a close eye on their suspect.
“How about, ‘Spill your guts, worm.’”
Osian spewed tea all over the table. He coughed and choked through his laughter. “You are not allowed to play Elder Scrolls Online late into the night again.”
“What?” Dannel mopped up the tea with a napkin. “Gross, Ossie.”
“Spill your guts, worm?”
“Completely legitimate line of questions.”
“It’s not even a question.” Osian couldn’t get his laughter under control. “Can you imagine his face after being called a worm?”
“We’ve called him worse.”
“Not to his face.” Osian had always believed in keeping things professional with his fellow paramedics, even the ones he didn’t like. “I think he’s done running.”
They waited for another twenty minutes before Noah finally made his way out of the gym. Osian whistled sharply when he went to pass their table. Dannel winced at the sound, covering his ears for a moment.
“Sorry, love,” Osian whispered. He patted Dannel’s knee while focusing on Noah. “What a surprise.”
“I’m sure.” Noah didn’t appear overly pleased to see them. “I’ll pretend you weren’t stalking me.”
With an air of annoyance, Noah flounced into the seat across from them. He dropped his gym bag on the chair beside him. His entire countenance oozed confidence.
“There’s loo roll on your shoe.” Osian grunted when Dannel elbowed him. “What?”
Noah glanced briefly down at his shoe, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Grow up, Osian.”
For whatever reason, Noah had always brought the worst out in Osian. The perfectly coiffed paramedic who swanned around making others pick up the slack for him. He irritated Osian.
Osian decided not to play around with small talk. None of them was interested in pretending to be friends. “Why’d you lie about being at Comic Con?”
While Osian didn’t know for certain, he had a hunch the man had been there. Gemma had a way of drawing people to her. An arrogant prick like Noah would’ve been enraged at being dumped.
From all of their podcasts, Osian knew the dangers of jealous men. He could do a hundred shows on cases of women being murdered by their exes. Gemma would certainly not be the first.
“I didn’t lie.” Noah sniffed in disdain.
“Your nose does this weird thing when you lie.” Osian had a much better poker face than Noah. He nudged Dannel. “See it? He did the thing with his nose again.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“You were,” Dannel insisted. His fingers tapped on the table.
“And? What if I was?” Noah suddenly changed tactics.
Osian forced himself not to pump his fists in the air. “Bit strange. You being at London Comic Con. You hate cosplay. You took the mickey every sodding time I mentioned it. So you were there to see Gemma. Why lie?”
“I don’t owe you an answer.”
“The police will figure out you were there.” Dannel lifted his gaze up from the table for a moment. “Did she turn you down again? She probably did. Gemma had substance. You don’t. Were you hacked off because she didn’t appreciate your brilliance?”
Osian had been watching Noah’s expression. He saw the moment his mood changed and knew from experience whatever he said next would be cruel. “Don’t.”
Noah’s attention shifted from Dannel to Osian. “Pardon?”
“You’re about to say something about Dannel. And I love Dannel. Don’t make me kick your arse. We’ll both get arrested.” Osian was unmoved when Noah shot to his feet, snatching up his gym bag. “Did you kill her?”
“No, you—” Noah cut himself off. He jerked the bag in his hand. “Harass me again, and I’ll sue for defamation.”
“Is asking a question defamation?” Dannel seemed oblivious to Noah’s anger. “We haven’t accused you of anything. What’s the definition?”
While Dannel had an existential crisis over what constituted defamation, Noah stormed off. Osian slumped into his chair and sipped the remainder of his tea. He listened absently to the muttering beside him.
“Not actually defamation.” Dannel shoved his phone into Osian’s face. “See?”
“Don’t think he cares.” Osian tilted his head back slightly. “What have we learned?”
“Noah has a temper.”
“What new information do we have?” Osian clarified his question.
“Noah was at the convention.”
“Exactly. And I’d wager both of our bank accounts he not only saw Gemma but argued with her.” Osian didn’t believe it proved his guilt or innocence. “He’s definitely moved up my list of suspects.”
“If it was Noah, why would he attempt to make the police think you’re the killer?”
“He loathes my existence?” Osian had no doubts Noah would be thrilled to see him in prison. “And I’m an easy target. I was there.”
Deciding to head home before the skies opened on them, Osian opted to hail a passing cab. They didn’t want to risk the Tube or a bus. It might make Chris and Roland less likely to shout at them for leaving their flat without telling anyone.
They arrived home to find a locksmith kneeling down by their front door. Chris and Dannel’s uncle were standing off to the side in conversation. Both men turned towards them when they hopped out of the cab.
“Maybe we should get back in and go for a drive?” Osian peered over his shoulder at the cabbie that had already pulled away from the kerb. “Never mind. We’re on our own. Time to face the firing squad.”
“Good luck.” Dannel dodged by his uncle, squeezed by the locksmith, and disappeared up the stairs into the building.
“Brilliant.” Osian didn’t blame Dannel. He didn’t handle confrontation well at all. Their brief interrogation of Noah had likely been enough for the entire week. His attention turned to the unhappy men in front of him. “Hello. Looks like rain.”
“Looks like someone’s got a death wish.” Chris appeared completely unamused. “What happened to staying in the flat until we sorted your security?”
“I do not remember having a conversation about staying in the flat. I do recall you leaving us to decide what we wanted to do. And we opted to go for a walk.” Osian figured going from a car to the café counted as exercise. “So? How goes the lock changing?”
“Oz.” Chris reached out to grip his shoulder firmly. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“And we weren’t.”
“Osian.” Uncle Danny stepped up beside Chris. “If you’re not worried about yourself, what about young Dannel?”
“Young Dannel is the same age as I am. We’re not exactly teenagers anymore.” Osian didn’t think they’d been exceptionally careless. They’d been in public spaces the entire time. “We were careful.”
“You missed Detective Inspector Khan.” Chris appeared to realise arguing with him would be pointless. “I promised to tell you to call him. So, call him.”
“Shit. Am I getting arrested again? I’m tired of being almost locked up.” He checked his mobile, only to find no messages from the detectives. “Well, are we being spanked for our adventure?”
“You wish,” Chris teased. “I’ve got a date with Abra.”
“Abra and Chris, not kissing in a tree,” Osian sung. He knew Abra didn’t enjoy physical intimacy. “I should check on Dannel.”
Uncle Danny followed him toward the entrance. He caught Osian by the arm and gently but firmly guided him away off to the side. “Myron stopped by.”
“Did he?” Osian wanted nothing more than to head upstairs and hop in the bath with Dannel. He knew this conversation would irritate him, particularly since Danny should be having it with his nephew directly. “And? He’s been attempting to reconnect with his son. Plus he’s been mostly decent to me for once.”
“Why hasn’t he spoken with any of us?”
“Well, I’m not Myron. And I’m not Dannel. If you want to know what’s going on in their minds—ask them.” Osian smiled his sweetest and most disarming grin. “Okay? Okay.”
Leaving Danny still processing his comment, Osian headed into the building. He accepted the new set of keys the locksmith handed to him on the way by. And I still don’t know if Noah’s guilty.
“Love?” Osian slipped into their flat, locking the door behind him. “Is it a musical silence sort of day? Am I talking to myself? I’m talking to myself.”
Poking his head into the bedroom, Osian found Dannel stretched out on the mattress with his headphones on. Musical silence it is. He tiptoed out, carefully pulling the door shut.
He knew Dannel would be out for a good hour or two at least. The confrontation, no matter how mild, had probably stretched him to his limit. Osian grabbed his phone to text both Danny and Chris to ensure they didn’t knock on the door.
Dannel needed quiet for at least an hour.
And I want at least an hour to figure out if Noah was lying to us. Who am I kidding? Of course he was.
But was he lying about being a murderer?
Dannel woke up late in the evening to find Osian stretched out beside him, doing research on his laptop. “Is time off supposed to relieve so much stress?”
Osian paused in the middle of typing. “Are we talking hot bath levels of relieved? Or the doctor sedated me relaxed?”
“The latter.”
“Then I’d say Evie and I are both right. You should consider taking a step back from the fire department.” Osian had always been supportive of whatever Dannel wanted to do. “If we’re both running the podcast, with sponsors and advertising, we might make enough to pay the bills. What do you want to do, though? What would make you happy?”
Dannel shrugged helplessly. “I can’t.”
“Okay.” Osian closed his laptop, setting it to the side and moving around to rest his head on Dannel’s pillow. “Scale of one to ten, how stressed are you at work?”
“Thirty,” Dannel answered bluntly. “It’s taken me forever to recognise what I was feeling. I’m stressed. Every day. All day. I thought for the longest time I might be able to buffer myself from the constant barrage of sensory input.”
When Dannel had been in his early twenties, he’d found pushing himself through sensory overload to be easy. Osian hated how he ignored the toll on his physical and mental health. Now, in his thirties, he couldn’t disregard the strain any longer.
It was having a serious effect on him. Changes had to be made. And Osian would always have his back.
“Have you spoken with your chief?”
“What if he’s disappointed?” Dannel had always had a massive amount of respect for his mentor.
“Chief Wilson? Disappointed in his favourite child? Not a chance.”
“Ossie.”
“I know you find this hard to process at times, love, but people adore you.” Osian chuckled when Dannel poked him in the side. “You’re lovable.”
“Ossie.”
“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t make it any less true.” Osian ignored his protests. “You should talk to him. Make it less painful for everyone involved.”
“What if I can’t?”
“We’ll practice until you feel confident about it.” Osian knew he was making it sound simple. “We’ll figure it out together.”