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Faye looked up from her laptop. “Eww, it’s a staffy.”
“Why is that eww?” Josh asked.
“They’ve got a reputation of being … snappy. If you’re getting a dog, Chad, go for something else. Something soppy, and cute, like a Labrador.”
“I had a Labrador, Toby.” Chad kept staring into the grey eyes of the dog. “Staffies have an unfair reputation. All dogs just want to be loved and feel safe.”
“Like people,” Josh said. “So … what do you think of Gary?”
Chad slipped his thumb out of the way and found the top of the leaflet introducing Gary. “The name will have to go.” He gripped his head. “We’re in the middle of an investigation. Why have you handed me this? I don’t have time for a dog.”
He crossed the room towards the trashcan, but stopped short of dropping Gary inside. Josh’s gaze burned into his back. Chad huffed, folded the leaflet, then slotted it into his jacket.
“Yes,” Josh said, punching the air.
Chad turned to him, only to freeze at the DI standing behind Josh, breathing down his neck.
Josh paled. “Shit.”
“Have you got something to celebrate, DC Hancock?”
Josh slid off his desk. “No, sir, sorry.”
“Chad, I need to speak to you in my office.”
He handed his coffee back to Josh and followed the DI. Ally avoided looking at him and sat down at her desk.
“Close the door behind you.”
Chad did as he was told and waited in front of the DI’s desk. The DI rolled his thumb against his temple before taking a seat and sighing at his lap.
“I think it’s for the best to take you off this case, or at the least, limit your access to the case.”
“Best for who?”
“You.”
He curled his hand into a fist at his side. “No, it’s not best for me. I’m a detective, I’m good at my job.”
“I know you are.”
“Then why would you take me off the case?”
“For your safety.”
Chad shot a venomous glance out of the window, but it missed its target. Ally had hunched down behind her laptop.
“I’m safe.”
“The killer has tagged his victims with Romeo Knight’s name. We don’t know why, but he’s brought Romeo into this case, and the two victims, as much as you hate to think about it, have similar features to you.”
“Brown hair. Brown eyes! It’s not even the same shade!”
The DI gritted his teeth. “Calm down.”
Chad unclenched his fist. “I’m sorry.”
“The killer let Tate go. If you look at that board out there with those three men’s faces on it, you can see a blaring difference. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Blond hair. Blue eyes. He didn’t fit the profile the killer’s after.”
