Humpty Dumpty: The killer wants us to put him back together again (Book 1 of the Nursery Rhyme Murders Series) (18 page)

And then she neared Joshua’s room. As always, there was a moment of panic that preceded her first view of the former agent. What surprise would he have in store for her today? So far, each new experience with him had done nothing to alleviate her growing concerns for his wellbeing.

The tape was still intact. Joshua hadn’t left his room all night. A wash of relief surged through Sariah’s system. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad.

It was now almost seven, so if Joshua hadn’t left, he had to be awake. He never slept past five. More than that, he almost never slept past
four
. But when she knocked on the door, there was no response. Not even a stir. She knocked harder. Still nothing.

With trembling fingers, Sariah pulled the tape off the doorframe and pulled out the extra key card. She had to swipe four times before the light turned green for her to be able to open the door.

Bursting into the room, she scanned for Joshua, expecting to see his inert, possibly dead, body surrounded by empty bottles of liquor he’d somehow managed to procure for himself. Poisoned by the very drink that sustained him. But instead what she saw were four of the tiny bottles from the fridge stacked in a row on the counter.

Only four drinks. That couldn’t be right.

A further scan found Joshua on the bed, curled into a ball. A light snore resonated, his breath even and deep. In the center of the circle he’d made of his body rested the tiny form of Bella, who perked up at Sariah’s approach and started wagging her tail.

Joshua remained asleep.

If she hadn’t seen it, she wouldn’t have believed it. He never slept this late. Seeing him vulnerable, Sariah though back to that first morning with him. Now was the perfect time to get him back for the ice water dousing she’d received at his hands, but seeing him like that, gentle in repose, stayed her hand. It was the closest she’d seen him to attaining any form of peace. The lines in his forehead and around his eyes had softened, and Sariah saw what she’d never noticed in him before.

She saw the dad in him. The father that loved his children and laughed at their quirks. The loving husband who adored his wife beyond all reason. The serious agent who wouldn’t allow the sick and damaged to take away someone else’s joy.

There, etched on his face, was the agent that everyone who had known Joshua before spoke of. The man that Sariah kept hoping would show up.

And here he was, cuddling with a puppy.

Sariah backed away, doing what she could to quiet her step. There was no need to have Joshua at the meeting this morning. She and Had could work out what they needed to. If they needed the former agent’s input, they could get it later.

For now, it was time for him to sleep.

* * *

Had bubbled with enthusiasm that he couldn’t quite contain. He’d already done his happy dance three times in his room before he was dressed, and even his talk with his mama hadn’t managed to quell his excitement. His laptop bumped against his leg, hitting one of the many bruises he now sported as a result of his raw denim fiasco. As much as he liked the look of shrink-to-fit jeans, he was now rethinking that whole idea. At least in any area with an annual rainfall of over three inches.

Down the hallway, he heard the ding of an arriving elevator and put on a burst of speed. He called out for whoever it was to hold the door as he scooted to the elevator and squeezed through the entrance before it closed.

The family’s eyes bored into him; they looked to be heading down for some breakfast before getting back on the road. A balding middle-aged man with tired eyes, a woman with sleep knots in her hair, and two tow-headed devils with more mischief radiating out of them than the parents clearly had any idea what to do with. Had gave the older of the two boys a wink. He knew that searching look well. He’d worn it too many times himself as a young child.

Most mornings, he would’ve started chatting with them, finding out where they were coming from and where they were headed. But not today.

Today there was a glowing bit of happiness that was highlighted in red in the center of his computer screen. A scrap of information that could help them to crack the case open, like one of the crawdads his mama always talked about eating back in Mississippi. There were crayfish up in Michigan, but she insisted that there was no comparison to the ones you found down south.

Sometimes Had thought his mama was full of crap.

He trotted into the breakfast room. Even with his limited travel experience, Had was starting to realize that these kinds of buffets looked the same throughout the U.S. Same smallish room with crappy décor. Same waffle maker surrounded by impatient hotel guests. Same dried out pastries and containers of sugar cereals. Even the television mounted up on the wall seemed to have the same news program on.

And there at one of the tables, was Agent Cooper, her neck craned to watch the news as she sucked down a glass of watered-down orange juice. One more thing that seemed to be consistent from hotel to hotel, as far as Had could tell. Whether it was concentrated to the point of being sludge or diluted past recognition, he had yet to encounter a good glass of juice.

Had caught Coop’s eye, and she waved him over to sit down across from her. “If the canary hasn’t been eaten yet, it needs to watch its back with you around. What’s got you so perky this morning?” She held up her hand to stave off his answer. “Never mind. Food first. Then talk.” She pointed over to the buffet, waving at him when he started to speak in spite of her admonition. “I’m serious. Breakfast. Most important meal of the day.”

Moving to the table, Had snagged a Danish that didn’t look too crusty and poured some java into a mug that was resting upside down on a tray right next to the coffee maker. Decaf. Because his news had him zinging more than caffeine ever could.

As he jetted back to the table, his leg grazed the top of one of the chairs that was sticking out, and he couldn’t keep from wincing. Agent Cooper caught the expression.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine,” he responded, hoping that would be the end of it. She sat there, an expectant look on her face. He sighed. “There is some… bruising.”

“Bruising? From what?”

“Um,” Had murmured. “From the… ah… incident… yesterday.”

“Incident?” Her face wrinkled up, then cleared all of the sudden. She lifted up her hand to cover her mouth. “The sprinkler thing. With the jeans. Got it.” Her brow creased. “That caused bruising?”

“Can we not talk about it?” Had’s information high was starting to leave, and he wanted to share what he’d found before he lost all credibility whatsoever.

Coop nodded, apparently working hard to keep a straight face. “Sure thing. What’ve you got?”

Whipping out his laptop, Had opened it up and turned it to face his partner, his shame forgotten. “Only our next destination. Check it out!”

Her eyes getting bigger, Coop darted her eyes up to meet Had’s, then back to the screen. “Is this accurate?”

“As accurate as the data. I would say within a percent or two of error.”

“And every one of the trucking routes we’re looking at leads—”

“Right into the middle of that truck stop,” Had finished for her, unable to resist stepping in. “It connects every single one of the dots for us. Our guy had to have gone through this area. I’m telling you, this is the place.”

After his conversation with Johsua, Had’d pulled all the routes that fit the crime scenes and linked them to a listing of all of the major truck stops and weigh stations. One stood out more than a huge zit on the nose of a prom queen.

Iowa 80.

“It’s the biggest truck stop in the world,” he gushed, pulling up some stats that he’d found the night before, once he’d found the link to the famous layover. “It’s got like four places to eat, a movie theater, a dentist, a chiropractor.” He pointed to the screen. “There’s even a trucking museum!”

“That’s… great,” Coop responded. She didn’t seem quite as thrilled about the amenities of the truck stop, but her eyes gleamed all the same.

“They’ve got a showroom and a custom shop; there’s wireless everywhere. They’ve even got a barber shop.”

“I’m getting the picture. It’s huge,” she answered, grinning at him. Had wasn’t sure, but it may have had something to do with his intimate knowledge of a truck stop, even it if was the biggest one on the planet. “And you’re sure this place links to every single one of the sites?”

“Not just the ones now, but also the scenes from 13 years ago.”

She pulled her eyes away from the screen. Had could see that, much as she was trying to keep it from showing, she was almost as excited as he was.

“This is it, Had. We’re gonna get him.”

He was one hundred percent in agreement. They’d make their way out to the trucking center, set up shop, and have the guy in custody in three days or less. There was no way the killer could worm his way out of this trap. Not a chance.

Agent Cooper rubbed her hands together. “Okay, first thing I’m going to need you to do is to get a hold of local law enforcement. We’re going to need their assistance in pulling suspects in for questioning.”

“Sure thing,” he answered. “Want me to see if I can set up some offices there at the station?”

“Yes, although my guess is that we’ll be spending most of our time at the truck stop. Especially if it’s as big as you say.”

“Oh, it is.”

“Well, let’s see if we can talk to both the truck stop and the police station. Wouldn’t hurt to have a base of operations at both sites.”

“Good call,” Had agreed. They would get a lot more done if they had a place they could work out of while keeping tabs on the drivers coming in and out. “Do you think the stop will be willing to work with us? It’s their customers we’re looking to bring in.”

“It’s your job to convince them.” Coop started to speak, then seemed to hesitate before continuing. “You’ve proven yourself to be much more useful than just this, but you liaising with the locals was why I wanted you on the team.”

“Oh.” Had felt himself deflate. He was just the hired help, the guy that went in front of the big circus posting up fliers. Not the ringmaster, not the lion tamer, not even the guy that swept up the poop behind the elephant. Not an integral part of the magic.

Agent Cooper must have seen the look on his face, because she stepped in with almost no pause. “I was afraid you might take it that way. You’re more than that, but you also need to know how important this part of it is.”

“Yeah. Gotta make sure no one throws Joshua in prison for being a vagrant.”

Coop smiled. “Sort of. But it’s more than that. You know how local law enforcement is when it comes to FBI involvement.”

That was true. The only one who had been excited when the BAU had come to Ann Arbor had been Had. Everyone else spent the entire time grumpy as all hell. Especially Had’s boss. The guy had spent those several days looking like a cross between a wet cat and a charging rhino.

He listened a little bit closer as Coop continued, “Without you, we wouldn’t be able to do much of anything out here. You’re excellent at it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The captain down in South Carolina. What would’ve happened there without you?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He started laughing. “You were so pissed off.”

“I know, and so were you, but you kept it together. I’m telling you, Had,” she continued, “you’ve ended up being more help that I’d imagined you could be, but I would’ve been thrilled with just your people skills.”

It was true. They were turning out to be a pretty amazing team. And with their combined talents, they couldn’t help but succeed in their task.

Humpty Dumpty was theirs.

* * *

Joshua inhaled, taking in the scent and taste of jet fuel, sweat and mold that was the heady bouquet of all the airports he’d ever been outside of. And that was a long list.

His head pounded, his body ached, and it felt like there was sandpaper attached to the backside of his eye sockets, grinding away every time he glanced to the right or the left. He hadn’t felt this bad in a long time. What the hell? He’d had less alcohol last night than he had in years. Wasn’t fair.

Bella scampered about, smelling everything she could get to within the arc made by her leash. She barked and pranced in front of a young girl coming out of the door behind them, who squatted down and started playing with her until her mother yanked her away. Joshua wouldn’t swear to it, but it looked like the mother was much more concerned about him that she was about the puppy. Normally that wouldn’t bother him, but right now he had to take deep breaths to stay calm.

They were standing just outside the Quad City International Airport in Moline, Illinois. From here it was a half-hour cab ride to Iowa 80, just over the border into the state next door.

Had was off to the side, talking with one of the passengers from the flight he’d made friends with. The new contact was a big, burly guy with hipster glasses, a flannel shirt, and jeans that were way too skinny for his frame. They were busy exchanging email addresses or something. Joshua couldn’t fathom the amount of energy that must go in to keeping up with the number of friends that guy seemed to make.

They’d had a layover in Chicago, where Had proceeded to gush to both Joshua and Coop, as well as three other customers at the pizza joint where they’d grabbed lunch, that it was his first time there. The young cop had asked every one of them if the wind they’d heard in the jetway was typical. If Joshua heard
I guess that’s why they call it the Windy City
one more time, he would’ve hurt someone. Okay. Not “someone”. That was far too indefinite. Had. He would have hurt Had.

Thinking of the gregarious cop, Joshua looked up to see that he was done with his conversation, and making a beeline over to where Joshua was standing. “So, I just texted Bilal, and he doesn’t know anyone out here,” Had groused as he approached, clearly upset that their cab driver’s connections had run out. He reached down in an absent fashion to scratch Bella behind the ears. She responded with a flurry of licks to his hand.

“Tragic,” Joshua responded, his tone dry. He rubbed at his eyes, wishing he could somehow reach the back of them. Man, this sucked.