Chapter 7
Tony knew from the second that he stepped away from that house that something wasn’t right. He’d known Alexander pretty much from birth, and whenever he got with someone even remotely attractive he didn’t shut up about it. He remembered that when they were in high school, he got with the hottest girl in the year, and was still talking about it in college. This woman, whoever she was, was the most attractive person he’d ever been with, and he didn’t even say her name. Unless he had feelings for her? Tony shook the idea from his head. Alexander wasn’t exactly the most feeling of people, which somehow only furthered his suspicion. A tiny voice in the back of his head was screaming at him, ‘don’t be an idiot! It’s him! Isn’t it obvious?’
“What’s the situation?” Steve’s voice buzzed in his ear, snapping his thoughts in half.
“I don’t know, Cap. Something’s not right. I’ll be at the diner down the street. Meet you there?”
“Sure,” he said, and the line went dead. Tony had never felt scared near Alexander before. Grossed out, yes, jealous, yes, but never scared. He climbed into his car, realising for the first time in years just how sleep deprived he was, and just how much he would kill for a coffee. He glanced back at the house, the door still wide open, and for a second he swore he could hear something smash. He prayed to God he wasn’t an abusive person.
The gates swung open, allowing Tony to breathe and relax slightly. He passed the Captain on his way out, nodded to him and continued on his way. He didn’t notice that about a minute after he’d pulled away from the house, the black Mustang had followed him.
“Cap, change of plan. We’re going straight back to the compound.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, but I need the whole team’s opinion on this one.” Tony drove straight past the diner and onto the freeway. Half a mile in, he turned off into the desert and headed straight for the Quinjet that had brought them here. Nat was nestled in the pilot seat, silently sweating in the heat, and Clint in the co-pilot seat, fiddling with his hearing aids. She punched his arm and signed for him to stop fiddling and put them back in before motioning to Tony’s approaching car. Steve was close behind him, somehow devoid of his ‘undercover’ clothing and in his suit. Both quickly ditched the cars and climbed in board – Nat was grateful, she really wasn’t coping with the heat.
“Thor’s back at the compound,” she informed as they climbed aboard. Her hands flew to switches, desperate for some air conditioning. The ramp closed and they were in the air in mere moments. Steve gave a pensive nod, glancing at a slightly shaken Tony. He didn’t want to believe that one of his best friends was a murderer.
The Quinjet gained speed easily, and within two hours they were back at the compound. They all sat around the table, still staring at the same files, the same gruesomely detailed murders.
“Alexander James Costello,” muttered Sam as he pulled up his file, “he’s short.”
“Really? He potentially murdered fifty three people in the space of a month, and all you have to say is ‘he’s short’?” Nat said, quirking an eyebrow at him.
“Family friend,” Tony added, “known him for forever. My parents were always comparing him to me. So annoying.”
“Why him?” Steve asked, regretting not asking before they went to question him.
“He carries around an old Colt. Got the whole thing cast in gold too, the show-off.” In Tony’s hand was an old newspaper clipping, with the headline reading ‘Costello Enterprises opens an LGBT youth centre in every state’. In the picture, Alexander’s arms were draped around two teenagers’ shoulders, a broad smile across all of their faces. If his suspicions were correct, that man printed on that paper was gone.
A door at the back of the room opened, exposing Pepper with her arm wrapped around a woman. She guided her to a chair, helping her grasp the shock blanket around herself more firmly. Her eyes seemed to have sunk back into her head and her whole body trembled. Clearly the blanket wasn’t helping.
“This is my friend Sarah,” Pepper announced, addressing the whole group, “she’s got something you might want to hear.”