Page 28 of The Attercop

“I remember him now,” Mickey said. “I’d never seen him before. He said he was just passing through town.”

Declan stood up straight and looked at Mickey. “I think this is our guy.”

“And we have no trace of him leaving by the front door that night,” Charlie added.

A shiver ran down Charlie’s spine.

He rubbed his hands all over me when he spilled his drink.

“So, what do we do now?” Charlie asked.

“I think we need to take this to the police.”

“The cops that were here that night just blew it off as a random attack,” Mickey said.

Declan crossed his arms. “I’m not going to talk to them. I’m going to set up a meeting with my old partner, Gary Sawchuck. I think we need someone we know we can trust.”

Chapter Fourteen

Charlie stretched out in bed. He reached over and was surprised to find that Declan’s side was empty. There was a potent sour gas smell in the air. He propped himself up on his elbows and immediately saw what the problem was. Curled up at the bottom of the bed was that damned dog. The moment it saw it had been noticed, the dog stood, shook, and plodded up toward Charlie’s face, breathing its foul odour in his direction.

“Go away.”

The dog was having none of it. He was like an unpopular guy at the bar—the moment you looked at him, he thought he could have his way with you. The dog took a step forward and shook his head wildly, splattering Charlie’s face with drool.

“You little fucker, get away from me.”

The dog didn’t budge.

“Fine. If you won’t move, then I’ll go where you can’t follow.”

Charlie ran into the washroom and closed the door. He turned on the shower and dove under the water, drowning out the scratching and whining sounds from the other room.

“You’re not going to ruin my day,” he shouted.

Today was Charlie’s birthday. He turned twenty-six and he was determined that the day was going to be perfect. Of course, Carrie knew about the special day, but she was out of town for work, so they’d made plans to celebrate at a later date. Aside from her, Charlie hadn’t told a soul. He thought he might play it cool and casually let it slip out sometime in the afternoon. Declan would feel horrible, but he’d make up for it by takingCharlie out for a spectacular meal at a restaurant of his choice. Charlie wouldn’t pick something too extravagant, but fancy enough that the two would get dressed up. When they walked into the restaurant and the maître d’ showed them to their table, heads would turn. Declan did that in most places, but tonight…they wouldbothshine. Charlie realised that he should give Declan enough warning to run out and get him a nice gift. It would be something…personal—something Charlie would never have expected. But it would be perfect because Declan knew him well enough to know what he liked, even if he didn’t know it was his birthday.

The scrabbling in the other room had stopped. Charlie got out of the shower, towelled off, then cautiously opened the bathroom door.

Declan had returned and was facing the bed, in deep conversation with the dog who had spread-eagled itself across the bedsheets.

“Come on, boy. Off the bed unless you want Daddy to make you into it.”

Daddy?

Charlie stepped out into the room. Declan turned. “Mmm. Just the way I like you—naked.”

Declan walked over, scooped Charlie up into his arms and threw him onto the bed. He crawled up his body, kissing him as he went, starting at his toes. Charlie closed his eyes and welcomed the sensation of Declan’s warm, wet tongue. His reverie was interrupted by a loud bark, and another wet tongue slid across his face.

“Gross! Get him off me!” Charlie yelled.

“Okay, boy. Down you get.”

The dog obeyed.

Declan laughed. “Maybe we should wait until we’re alone.”

Charlie sighed and walked back into the washroom and scrubbed the dog-slobber off his face.