The last hour had gone by in a haze. Dannel had developed tunnel vision, focusing entirely on the detectives who were waiting for the department’s CCTV operators to locate where Osian and Chris had been taken. He’d refused to be taken home; not without answers.
Not without Osian.
From one second to the next, the detectives’ energy changed rapidly. Detective Inspector Khan had taken a call. He’d spoken urgently into his phone while several other officers hovered around him.
“I’m going with you.” Dannel forced himself to hold eye contact with the detective. “You’ve found him.”
“We might—”
“You’ve found him.” Dannel cut off the detective before he could put him off. “I heard you. You’re all preparing to rush out. You wouldn’t do that unless there was concrete information.”
He considered Dannel briefly before eventually nodding. “Fine. Come on, then. You’re in the car with me.”
They drove through familiar streets and finally stopped at the end of a street across from a row of houses. Dannel thought they appeared so ordinary. Detective Inspector Khan warned him to stay in the vehicle.
Despite nodding his agreement, Dannel climbed out of the back of the unmarked car the moment the police had breached the front door. He waited impatiently, trying to peer inside the house. What was taking so long?
He knew from being called out to fires involving police arrests that they were noisy. Always. He worried what the absolute silence coming from inside the house meant.
A crackle on the radio in the vehicle drew his attention. The detectives were calling for an ambulance. Paramedics. Who’s hurt? Dannel was suddenly imagining the worst.
He started across the street and stared down the constable who tried to stop him. “I won’t go inside until the house is clear.”
He might.
The constable didn’t have to know.
Agonising seconds later, Detective Inspector Powell led out Joel Brown. His hands were cuffed behind his back. She left him in the hands of several constables and returned inside.
Georgina Lloyd came out next. She struggled against the officer. They dragged her down the pavement, cursing the entire way.
With both of the suspects secured safely, Dannel rushed up the stairs into the house. He rushed through room after room before following Detective Inspector Khan’s voice to a narrow set of stairs. The man shook his head disapprovingly when Dannel joined them in the basement.
Dannel didn’t hear a word the detective said, his entire being focused on the limp body stretched out prone on the floor. “Ossie.”
Chris caught him by the arms when his knees threatened to go out from under him. “He’s alive. Just suffering from a concussion.”
“Just suffering from a concussion?” Dannel knew how dangerous head trauma could be. “Where’s the sodding ambulance?”
“Ortea. Haven’t heard your lovely dulcet tones in a while. Why don’t you back up and allow us to check on our patient?” Freya Davies eased him out of the way with her bag. “Make room, lads. We’re bringing in a spine board to allow us to get him up the steps and onto a stretcher.”
Some of the fear in his heart eased at the confidence from Freya. She was one of Osian’s good friends and Abra’s ex-girlfriend. They’d remained close and ran the LGBTQIA+ first responders coalition together.
“Dan. Breathe. He’s going to be fine.” Freya spoke over her shoulder. She coordinated the efforts of the four other paramedics in the room. “We’ll take excellent care of our boy.”
His hands trembled too much for him to offer any assistance in carrying the stretcher. He simply watched. Chris stepped up beside him; he was holding a broken broomstick in his hand.
“Are you hurt?” Dannel gave him a once-over.
“I’m fine.”
“He’ll be coming along with us for a thorough check over or Abs will never forgive me.” Freya stared pointedly at Chris until he followed after her. “We’ll meet you at the hospital, Dan. I’ll take good care of them both.”
Within minutes, the paramedics had disappeared with their two patients. Dannel stared around the room in shock. He crouched down to pick up a broken cable tie from the floor. Had Chris or Osian been kept captive with it?
“Mr Ortea?”
Dannel knew the detective had spoken. He couldn’t process the words. His fingers closed around the plastic strips. “Sorry. What?”
“Mr… Dannel.” Detective Inspector Khan came over to him. He gently removed the cable ties from his hand, placing them into an evidence bag. “Let’s get you to the hospital. The scene can’t be processed with you here.”
Despite nodding his agreement, Dannel didn’t know if his feet were capable of moving. He reminded himself Osian was alive. Maybe not conscious, but he’d definitely been breathing when they carried him up the stairs.
“Come on, son.”
Dannel glanced up in confusion at the familiar voice. “Chief?”
“Davies thought you might want a friendly face to get you to the hospital. Your brother’s waiting.” He walked over and wrapped an arm around Dannel’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of the detective’s hair.”
The hand on his shoulder guided him up the stairs, through the house, and into the chaos of outside. Officers had cordoned off the street. He wasn’t overly surprised to see a crowd of onlookers.
“Rolly.” Dannel spotted his brother waiting for them. “Rolly.”
“Easy, big brother.” Roland came over to give him a hug. “Inside voice. Let’s not give the crowd a show.”
Dannel didn’t get a chance to respond. His brother shoved him into the back seat. “Did you call Mum? What about Ossie’s family?”
“Texted Liv the second I arrived. They’re all gathering at the hospital. Prepare yourself for hugs. You’re going to be smothered.” Roland reached back to pat him on the leg. “Breathe.”
“Will you wankers stop telling me that? I haven’t suddenly forgotten to inhale and exhale.” Dannel yanked the seat belt across his body, shoving the clip in to secure it. “I’m not magically calming down because you remind me to breathe.”
“Inside voice.”
“Use your own damn inside voice.” Dannel flicked his finger against his leg repeatedly. He was teetering on the edge of a meltdown and desperately trying not to do so. Being agitated in a hospital wouldn’t help anyone. “Just leave me alone for a bit, all right?”
Instead of responding, Roland pulled his phone out. He connected the Bluetooth, and seconds later one of the tracks from In The Heights began to play, a cast album both Dannel and his brother had enjoyed greatly.
They’d connected with the idea of being the children of immigrants even if they weren’t living in New York City. London was big and metropolitan. It hadn’t been that much of a stretch to them when the play had come out.
“We’re here.”
Dannel had lost himself in the music. One full playthrough of the album usually helped him bleed off the energy; he barely had time for a couple songs before they arrived at the hospital. Neither his brother nor Chief Wilson commented or complained about him singing at the top of his lungs. “I don’t know if I can go inside.”
“Of course you can.” Roland slid out of the front seat and came around to open the passenger door. “I’ll help.”
Staring at his brother’s hand, Dannel waved him off and climbed out of the back seat. He stood up to his full height and inhaled a ragged, painful breath. The hospital loomed in front of them, more terrifying than it had been the last time he’d been here with Ian.
Between his brother and Chief Wilson, Dannel made it through the hospital to the small waiting room where their family and friends had gathered. They’d been in A & E more in the past month than in the last few years. Dannel hoped the arrest of Joel and Georgina would bring an end to the trend.
“Where is he?” Dannel ignored the questions thrown at him by everyone.
Olivia caught him by t
he hand and pointed toward the first room on the right. “The doctors just finished up with tests. They’re waiting for him to wake naturally. They believe he’s going to be okay. There wasn’t any bleeding on the brain. He’s going to be okay.”
Sidestepping both of their mums, Dannel snuck into the room. He didn’t care if they were supposed to wait outside. Osian wasn’t going to wake up alone.
Dannel closed the door behind him. He eased around the curtain to find Osian hooked up to wires and covered with a blanket. “Ossie.”
Quietly shifting one of the chairs in the room next to the bed, Dannel sat down and picked up one of the limp hands. He hated seeing Osian so still. Why did you go out with Thames on your own? Bloody hell, Ossie.
“I can hear you complaining about me.” Osian opened his eyes enough to squint at Dannel. “Too bright.”
“Hang on.” Dannel went over to pull the curtains shut, blocking out the rare bit of London sun. “Better?”
“Loads.” Osian opened his eyes completely. He gave a tired grin. “Hello, love.”
“Ossie.” Dannel dropped into the chair with an exhausted grunt. “‘Hello, love?’ Are you honestly starting with that?”
“Is there a better way to start than with telling you how much I love you?” Osian reached his arm out toward Dannel, gripping his hand tightly. “Particularly when I thought I’d never get to say those words again?”
Dannel rested his forehead against their joined hands. He wanted to crawl into bed with Osian and nap for days, though the doctors probably wouldn’t approve. “Next time you run off on an adventure... take me with you.”
33
Osian
By the start of April, Osian had completely recovered from his concussion. He’d only stayed in the hospital for one day. They’d released him when all the brain scans came back clear—a great relief to everyone involved.
The police had been busy completing their investigation. They’d had a lot of questions for both Chris and Osian. He’d almost lost his temper being asked the same things in twenty different ways.
After a week or so of being home, Osian had set up their recording equipment. He wanted to get back into the flow of podcasting. They might lose some of their audience if they maintained radio silence for too long.
Instead of covering recent murders in and around London, they went into as much detail as possible about their own recent experiences. Detective Inspector Khan had even volunteered to answer questions on air. It had been their most listened-to episode.
“I’m Danny. He’s Osian. This has been another episode of our London Crime Podcast. Be sure to say tuned next week when we interview an expert in personal security for tips and tricks to keep yourself safe.” Dannel closed out the hour of talk. He grabbed the bottle next to his notebook for a drink while Osian focused his attention on wrapping up the recording correctly. “Much better than D and Oz.”
“Not as hip.” Osian grinned at him. “Still can’t believe the spymaster agreed to be interviewed.”
“Are you ever going to stop calling Chris spymaster?”
Since essentially helping him rescue himself, Chris had become a much closer friend. Abra definitely approved. She’d been overly concerned about his health, much to their amusement.
“You didn’t see him slip out of those cuffs. I’m telling you, he’s some undercover agent.” Osian made sure to save a backup of their recording. He preferred to keep two copies when he worked on editing to avoid a catastrophe. “Our own Jason Bourne. Or Sam Fisher.”
“Chris wasn’t a government experiment. You’re not allowed to play Splinter Cell anymore.” Dannel shook his head and laughed. “How’s the head?”
He counted to ten silently to keep from getting annoyed. Dannel had asked him the same question at least five times each day since he came from the hospital. “I’m fine. Not even the hint of a headache.”
On the one hand, Osian understood the concern. Dannel struggled reading his expression and body language. His only way to make sure Osian was actually okay would be to ask questions.
So, Osian understood. And he did his best to never show frustration. Dannel didn’t need to feel bad for being a loving boyfriend.
“Are you ready for court next week?”
Osian heard the hesitance in Dannel’s voice. “As ready as I can be. I suppose Georgina and Joel have more reason to be anxious. I’m a victim and a witness. It’s their lives at stake.”
“Myron wants to go.”
Osian tried not to react. He’d been staying out of it while Myron continued to attempt to rebuild his relationship with his son. “And?”
Dannel lifted his shoulders slowly. “I don’t know. He’s trying.”
“We can’t stop him from attending court.”
“He asked.”
Osian appreciated the man being respectful enough not to add unnecessary stress to their lives. “It’s up to you, love. I’m not bothered one way or the other.”
“I’ll think on it.”
They’d been kept somewhat informed of the police investigation. Detective Inspector Khan had checked in on them several times since Osian’s release from the hospital. He’d come over to share a takeaway with them along with joining them on the podcast.
He was a friend. A stingy one, since he refused to give them all the details of the case. He had told them the villainous duo had been officially charged with Gemma’s murder.
Their laptop had been returned the day Osian came home from the hospital. The detectives had retrieved two computers from Joel’s place. It had been Georgina’s account sending the messages, however.
Osian thought both of them had likely taken turns writing the emails. He didn’t care, aside from being thrilled they’d stopped. “Archie’s finally responded to our panicked texting.”
“Finally?” Dannel paused in the middle of filling the kettle for tea. “Is he okay?”
“Perfectly fine. Confused as to why he had a million text and voice messages.” Osian joined him in the kitchen. He leaned against the fridge. “Abs thinks we should throw a welcome home party for him. Maybe also use it as a celebration of life for Gemma.”
“Here?” Dannel queried hopefully.
“We’ll stick with the first responder cosplay group then. Maybe Chris to keep Abs happy. Plus, we can take the mickey over their adorable romance.” Osian had anticipated Dannel wanting to stay close to home. He’d already begun to make plans with Abra and Evie. “Love?”
“Don’t.”
One of the more tangible impacts of their encounter with two killers had been Dannel’s increased desire to isolate. He hadn’t even gone to the station once since Osian had come home from the hospital. They’d become hermits.
Chief Wilson had come by to see them. Dannel had talked with the man for a while. He’d essentially transitioned from full-time to a volunteer position, helping around the station instead of going out on calls.
They hoped it would greatly reduce Dannel’s stress.
Dannel grabbed the edge of the counter, leaning forward with his head down. “When we go outside, all I can picture is someone grabbing you and me finding you dead on the ground.”
“Anxiety can be a right wanker.”
“It’s not like when we went out on our shifts and I knew you or I might face difficult and dangerous moments. But it came with the territory of being a first responder.” Dannel didn’t move when Osian stepped up behind him. “I can’t quit thinking about you passed out on the basement floor.”
“It’s okay, love.” Osian wrapped his arms around Dannel and rested his head against his back. “We’re going to get through this together.”
He had no doubts they would. They’d comfort each other through the continued nightmares. He fully believed they’d heal from the trauma of his kidnapping and their multiple near-death experiences.
“And Ian.”
“What?” Osian stepped away when Dannel moved out of his arms to grab the kettle. “What about Ia
n?”
“Let’s invite him to the party,” Dannel clarified. “He loves theatre, and our dinners always devolve into musical sing-alongs.”
There had been three major changes in their lives after his kidnapping. Dannel had hermitted, Osian had become even more obsessed with true crime, and they’d taken even better care of their neighbours. They checked on Ian daily even though he’d made a full recovery.
“When’s Archie coming home?” Dannel swirled the water around in the teapot. “Grab the biscuits?”
“He’s already home, actually. Wondered if we wanted to see him before the madness of a party.” Osian picked through the packets to find the half-eaten bag of Custard Creams. “He apparently met a guy while on his hike through wherever he was. Another adventurer. They came back to London together. His mum doesn’t approve.”
“Why?” Dannel peeked over his shoulder to look at his phone screen. “Tell Archie to come over. He can bring a pizza.”
“We’re having tea.” Osian spoke around the two biscuits he’d shoved into his mouth. He coughed crumbs when Dannel poked him in the side. “What?”
“Aren’t paramedics consumed with cleanliness?” He dropped a cube of sugar into one of the mugs of tea and slid it toward Osian. “Text Archie. See if he wants to come over this evening. We can throw him a party on the weekend.”
“You just want all the gossip about his new boyfriend.”
“Don’t you?”
“True.” Osian sent a quick text, then caught Dannel by his shirt to drag him over for a kiss. “I love you.”
Dannel carefully set his tea on the counter to avoid scalding either of them. “I love you too. I’m not letting you have my biscuit.”
“Selfish prat.” Osian dragged his fingers across Dannel’s jaw. “Still love you.”
***
Craving more mysteries? I have a few for you to be checking out. Meet Motts and the quirky cast of characters in her world. Poisoned Primrose is a quintessential cosy British mystery and an all-round fun story to throw yourself into.
You won’t want to miss out on reading my Grasmere Cottage Mystery trilogy. With love, wit, and a murder to solve, life for Valor and Bishan is about to get bloomin' complicated in this sweet gay romance.
Cosplay Killer Page 17