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His body doubled in weight just thinking about it.
Josh lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t suggesting you were … weak or anything.”
Chad stiffened. “It’s not always about brute strength.”
“I know.”
“This killer isn’t overpowering his victims, they’re willing … you might have all that,” Chad pointed at Josh’s arm, “but it doesn’t make you invincible. If Olivia was the killer, you’d be dead, and no amount of flexing those muscles would’ve saved you.”
Chad left Josh to stew over his words on the stairwell and headed downstairs. He shoved open the door and crashed into someone.
“Shit, sorry.” He took a hurried step back when he realized who he’d walked into.
Dean studied Chad’s eyes.
“Brown eyes,” he whispered. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“You’re DC Chad Fuller.”
“Less of the detective constable.” He glanced towards the stairs. “I’ve been suspended, so if that’s why you’re here you’ve been beaten to it.”
Dean shook his head. “I’m not here to get you suspended.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I was going to … express my concern.”
“Over.”
“A customer at The Desperado… You actually.”
“Why?”
“Your boyfriend seems a bit…”
Chad raised his eyebrows. “A bit?”
“Unhinged.”
“It was part of the act.”
“The act?”
Chad gestured to his face. “His costume. The pissed-off boyfriend.”
“In the bloody hocky mask…”
“Look, he can be intense, but there’s no need for you to express any concern over him. We’re fine. We’re happy. I’m sorry he rubbed you up the wrong way.”
“Still.” Dean said, turning towards the reception desk. “Something about him didn’t sit right with me.”
“What exactly are you going to say?”
Dean shrugged. “I don’t know—”
“Did you follow us into the toilets?”
