Preston.
It was Preston.
And what was Had doing here in the dark with a throbbing head with a stoner gas station attendant? How did he get here?
He had been checking on the fertilizer.
Someone had hit him on the back of the head and then again in the front.
Someone that had known where he was.
Someone that knew he was checking to see if there was an alternate theory to the trucker being the killer.
Someone like Preston.
Preston was the killer.
Wait. What? That couldn’t be right.
“Yep. About now you’ve figured out that it’s me, and that you were wrong about… shit… pretty much everything. Oh, and I know all that because I saw your murder board, dude. You guys really should be more careful about who you let go into your workspace.”
Had’s mind spun, thinking back to all of the conversations he and Preston had shared. And not just stuff about the case. All of the weird things he hadn’t seemed to know about from Michigan. Pasties. The Spirit of Curling. He’d put it all up to Preston being from Detroit, but…
“It’s kind of freaky that you didn’t figure it out earlier,” the attendant continued. “When you first showed up there at the station, I almost shat myself. But you just wandered all around, questioning everyone but me.”
“You’re too young,” Had responded finally, his mouth catching up to his thoughts.
“That’s your issue? With everything else you could be hung up on, you picked that?”
“Hey! I just found out my new friend is a serial killer,” Had shot back. “I’m still trying to catch up here.”
“Don’t strain anything, bra. Seriously. You guys are lucky if you have a brain between the three of you.” Preston leaned back, turning to the right and the left with a sharp motion, cracking his back in both directions. “No, make that four. Man, that Reggie’s a hottie. I almost went for her instead of you, but then she would’ve ended up hacked to bits, and that would just be a crying shame.”
It was the last reaction Had would’ve thought to come out of him right at this point, but he started to laugh. And the more he laughed, the more he could tell it was really bugging Preston.
“What?” he asked. “What’s so funny?”
“Well, you thinking you have a shot with Reggie, for one,” Had snorted.
A scowl plastered itself all over Preston’s face. “If she’ll pay attention to that bald asshole Joshua—”
Had continued as if there had been no interruption. “And calling Agent Cooper and Joshua stupid, for two. But you’ll figure that out when they get here.”
Preston’s scowl deepened, but then it morphed into a leer. “You think your precious Joshua’s coming for you? He’s too busy flirting to do anything else. Besides, he hates you.”
“Joshua doesn’t hate me. We’re like brothers.”
“Yeah,” Preston mocked him. “Cain and Abel, maybe. Bra, he punched you for talking about monkeys.”
“That was…” Had started, then stopped. He wasn’t going to get sucked into an argument with this guy over his relationship status with Joshua. He knew where he stood with the former agent. Didn’t he?
“Doesn’t matter,” Preston said, brushing the conversation aside. “You’re going to be way too busy to worry about anything.”
“What, time to chop me into bits?” Had asked, keeping his tone light. He wasn’t going to give Preston the satisfaction of seeing him sweat.
“That’ll come sooner or later,” he said, coming in closer to Had. “But first, I think we need to get to know each other a little bit better.”
That didn’t sound too promising. And no matter what he said to Preston, he had no idea how Joshua, Coop and Reggie were going to figure out where he was. For all he knew, they still thought he was back in Cedar Rapids. Come to think of it, Had wasn’t sure that he wasn’t.
He was tied up in a dark place with a serial killer. This might be even worse than the time Mama found his stash of girlie magazines. Had thought about that for a minute. Yeah, no. This didn’t even hold a candle to that.
Maybe he’d change his mind when the body parts started coming off.
CHAPTER 22
It had taken some time for Joshua to track down Preston’s boss, but once he did, the information came pretty quickly. One look at Joshua’s face and the supervisor at Iowa 80 pulled out the attendant’s personnel file, asking if there was anything else he could do for all of the nice FBI agents. It was a mark of Coop’s deteriorated mental state that she didn’t bother correcting him.
After a brief moment of stepping back up to the plate to try to figure out who had taken Had, Agent Cooper had practically disintegrated. She burst into tears at the drop of a hat, she was three steps behind at every point, and she’d barely said a word in the last hour and a half.
At least they hadn’t gotten any more calls from Had’s mom. After the first flurry of calls, it had been almost three hours since they’d heard from her.
And now they were headed out to the country to meet with Preston’s parents, the Longton’s, face to face. Reggie had wanted to call, hoping to get information as quickly as possible, but Joshua had shut that down.
He wanted to look into the mother and father’s faces as they found out what their son might be capable of. So much could be discovered in that split second of vulnerability. And if they knew where their son was, they would be much more likely to give it away in that moment. Given time to prepare, they would be able to bury all but the most extreme of reactions.
All of his experience and training was there, waiting for him to use it. When he had started on this idiotic journey with Had and Coop, he hadn’t been at all positive. He’d doubted himself, letting Agent Cooper run away with things that he knew in his gut either weren’t going to work, or were flat out the wrong choice.
But not now.
Not wanting to wait for Reggie to get a cop cruiser to come pick them up, Joshua had started looking for a taxi. Whether it was out of some bizarre loyalty to Had, or it was because he thought he could better convince him to speed, Joshua had decided to find Darrel, the bearded wannabe trucker. And sure enough, he had been more than willing to disregard every single one of the safety requirements listed on the inside of his cab to help find Had.
“We going fast enough? I might be able to crank some more speed out of this hunk of metal if I’m not worried about the transmission,” the driver shouted over his shoulder. They were going 113 right now.
“Just be on the lookout for the exit,” Joshua replied.
He would never have believed it, and if anyone had suggested it he would have laughed him or her to shame, but he missed Had. Missed the young cop’s easy banter and sense of humor. Even missed the weird brother-slash-hero-worship thing Had wouldn’t let go of.
Coop’s cell phone rang, and when she finally answered after four rings and a stern look from Joshua, an angry but indistinct voice leaked out past her ear. It sounded like Had’s mom. Great. Looked like she was back on the clock.
After what sounded like a long tirade, there was a break in the sound, long enough for Agent Cooper to speak. Her tone was weak, indecisive. “We’re doing everything we can—” was as far as she got.
The voice got even louder and angrier, more than Joshua would have thought possible on a cell phone. This woman seemed to have the lungs of a deep-sea diver. And from the snippets he could understand, the vocabulary of a sailor.
“Ms….” her voice cracked. “Sorry, Ms. Hadderly, we’re going to get your son back.” The voice on the other end of the line peaked and then cut off without warning. Coop put away her cell phone with a shake of her head and burst into tears again. But Joshua had heard something toward the end of the call. It had been garbled and indistinct, but it had sounded like… something familiar. Maybe a car starting? Was Had’s mom on the move? That’s just what they needed, a psychotic mother tailing them while they tracked down
their teammate. At least she had a ways to go before she could get here.
The thought of that kid, tied up and tortured by a psychopath had Joshua thinking of something other than himself and his own pain for once. Even Reggie wasn’t a distraction right now. He glanced in her direction. Okay, maybe a small distraction.
Reggie had been incredible, mobilizing the small police force and having them follow along behind. Everyone knew they might be chasing a phantom lead here, but it seemed that Had’s influence had made an impact on pretty much everyone. They were all ready to go to bat if there was even the smallest chance of success in finding their friend.
Joshua also had to admit that Coop had done an excellent job of letting go of her own angst. Rather than weep and bitch about how it was all her fault that Had was kidnapped, she’d just sucked it up and done what needed to be done. And there hadn’t been a single mention of Curtis. Again, not that Joshua would ever tell her.
Thinking it through, Joshua could see that there might be a pattern there. Not that he was about to do anything about it. At least not right now.
Even Bella was being well behaved right now. It was almost as if the puppy could tell that something serious was going on. She curled up at Joshua’s feet, her eyes huge as she stared up at him.
He would have to talk to Darrel about keeping her in the car. There was no way Joshua wanted to risk Bella getting hurt as they hunted their prey.
The wheels of the car screeched as Darrel took the exit too fast. The deceleration of the vehicle pressed Bella into the seat in front of her, and she whined with worry.
“It’ll be okay,” Reggie whispered at the pup, rubbing her head. “We’ll find him.”
The Longton’s property was out in the middle of nowhere, but with Darrel driving, it took half the time it should’ve before they were pulling into the dirt driveway that led to their house. It was a rambler, painted a bright yellow, with a wraparound porch encircling the façade and two sides. Not the kind of place that seemed like it would breed a serial killer. A dirty white Ford F-250 truck that had seen some wear sat off to the side where the driveway widened as it led up to the house.
A Border Collie and a Lab rushed out to challenge their unexpected vehicle, barking at the occupants of the taxi. Bella perked her head up and responded to the opening salvo with vigor.
A light went on at the front of the house, whether from a motion sensor or someone inside turning it on, it was impossible to tell. It was now close to nine o’clock, and it was Joshua’s guess that they weren’t used to getting a lot of visitors, no matter what part of the day it was.
The front door of the house swung partially open, and a woman of about forty poked her head and torso out. She seemed to be wearing a housecoat and no makeup, as if she were getting ready for bed. At nine? That was an early bedtime. Maybe this was just the way she spent her time around the house when there was no one there.
At that point, the door swung even wider, and the husband appeared. He was dressed in a white t-shirt with brown pit stains and some loose, flowy pants that looked like pajamas. Perhaps they were on their way to bed after all.
As Joshua, Reggie and finally Coop piled out of the car, they had to push Bella back in to keep her from going after the dogs in the yard. She jumped up and down in the window, barking for them to take her along. The Collie and the Lab growled at the intruders, but then as Reggie crooned to them, they came forward and sniffed at her hand, somewhat mollified.
“What you doing on my property?” the man called out across the yard. His voice was deep and raspy, the sound of a three-pack-a-day habit.
Not the most gracious of welcomes, but Joshua couldn’t blame the man too much. Having three strangers show up in a taxi at night had to be disconcerting.
Joshua looked to Coop to start talking, but she was standing there with her mouth partially open, looking like she was close to comatose. He stepped in to cover.
“I’m Joshua Wright, a consultant on the case, and this is Officer Black and Special Agent Cooper with the BAU. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”
Joshua watched their reactions, first the mother, then the father. From the mother, there was worry and a tightening of the mouth. Mr. Longmore’s response was more belligerent, defensive, with a clamping down of his jaw. Neither one evinced surprise.
“What’s this about?” called down the mother, her voice quavering.
“Your son,” Joshua responded.
There was the hint of a sob from the mother before Mr. Longmore gave her a sharp look that caused her face to go blank and pale. Was he an abuser? Watching the wife’s movements, they seemed furtive, small, intended not to draw attention. Telltale signs that would have been missed by someone not looking for them.
“What’s he done?” croaked the mother, before Mr. Longmore could give her another meaningful glance. She was worried, and seemed ready to talk to whomever might be able to give her a few answers. But that was not the father’s plan, from what Joshua was seeing in his body language.
“Well, he’s not here,” the father said, his tone blunt. “He works at the truck stop. Why don’t you check there?”
“We’ve just come from there, Mr. Longmore,” Reggie said, after glancing at Coop to see if she would respond. “Is there somewhere here that he might spend time? A basement room, or a finished garage? Some place where he would go for privacy?”
Mr. Longmore dropped his eyes and looked at the ground, shifting his feet. “No, there’s nowhere like that,” he answered.
But Joshua was looking at the mother. For a second, right after Reggie asked the question, she had looked off to the right, her gaze distant. She stopped herself right afterward, but Joshua knew he had seen something honest. There was a place, and Preston’s mother seemed to think that her son might be there.
In addition to the body language from the mom, there were additional clues to be had from the father. The back of his neck was dark brown, as were his arms, up to the middle of his upper arm. There was a distinct line at that point, and the rest of his skin was almost pasty.
Even the pattern of sun on his weathered face indicated that the sun had hit him while he was walking upright. This was not someone who spent time lazing in the sun to get a tan. This was a hardworking man that made his living out in the sun, yet his home was large and well appointed. More than what might be expected for a blue-collar worker.
“You’re a farmer,” Joshua realized out loud.
Preston’s father refocused his attention on him. “Uh… yeah. Why?”
“You have a place where you keep all your equipment, right? Where you store your harvest? Someplace enclosed?”
The man’s expression told Joshua that he could see where this was going but had no reasonable explanation for why he would refuse the information. He shuffled his feet again, which Joshua was starting to identify as his “tell”.
“Yeah. We got a few buildings out by the fields.”
“And I’m guessing that they all have cellars?” Joshua added. “This is part of tornado alley, right?”
Mr. Longmore grunted, which Joshua took to be assent. The cellar of a storage facility on a farm would be the perfect place to hold a victim. Ideal for killing them. Even adequate for some dismemberment. Preston had his pick of a very large litter, from what Joshua could tell.
“Where are they?” Reggie pressed.
The farmer thrust his jaw out, making it clear that he had no desire to be helpful right now. Joshua watched as Reggie’s eyebrow lifted. She knew what was going on. The girl was sharp.
“It’s information that we’ll get one way or another, Mr. Longmore. We have more than enough to get whatever warrants we need. But you need to know that there is a member of our team whose life is in danger. Helping us will go a long way toward earning some goodwill for your son.”
As Mr. Longmore moved out toward the street to point out the directions to Reggie, Joshua hung back, placing himself as close to the wife as he could w
ithout being obvious about it. She’d been staring at him since they’d started talking about Preston. Furtive looks that ended as soon as he realized they were there. She wanted to talk to him but was afraid.
Sure enough, as Joshua got closer to where she was standing up on the porch, Preston’s mother came down to the railing and rested her arms against it. To anyone watching, it might have appeared to be nothing. But to Joshua it was an invitation.
“You’re worried about your son,” he said, without looking at her or raising his voice.
She nodded, a tear sliding down her cheek. Her gaze went to her husband, who was gesturing off in the direction of what Joshua guessed were the fields.
“I love my boy,” she said.
“But there are things that just don’t fit and you’re afraid of what he’s done… or might do.”
Another nod. “He was always a strange boy. Wanted to be off by himself most of the time. Loved his biology classes. Dissecting frogs and whatnot. Didn’t have any friends to speak of.”
Joshua waited for a moment, until it was clear she wouldn’t say more without prompting. “Have you seen him?”
The tears flowed faster as she nodded her head a third time. “He stopped by a few hours ago. Told us he was going back in to work the graveyard. But that’s not the direction he went.”
“He went off to the fields?”
She didn’t directly respond to the question. “He’ll leave. Sometimes for days at a time. Says he’s busy working at the station or out with friends, but when I call for him at work, he’s not there. And he don’t have no friends.” Another quick sob and she straightened herself back up.
“Mrs. Longmore, I—”
“I see what’s real. He had a tough childhood,” she said, looking off in the direction of Preston’s father.
That fit with Joshua’s instinct about abuse. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with her next words.
“Keep my boy safe if you can. But you do what you got to do.” She moved off toward the front door of the house, but then turned back. “If something happens out there, don’t come back looking for forgiveness from me. Might be he’s broken, but he’s also my son. And if you hurt him and show your face where I can see it, I’ll kill you.”
Humpty Dumpty: The killer wants us to put him back together again (Book 1 of the Nursery Rhyme Murders Series) Page 26
