Bella danced around at his feet, whining and trying to get his attention. He reached down without apparent thought and rubbed the top of the dog’s head, but then his fingers stopped moving.
His face formed a map that traced all of his cares, troubles and excesses in every crease. And right now that face radiated several strong emotions all at once.
Grief. Pain. Loss.
And overlaying all of that, a burning rage that seemed to sear Reggie right down to her core. It was not at all comfortable, that sensation. But it was compelling.
What was wrong with her that she found that much screwed up energy appealing?
His next statement snapped her attention back to the note.
“It’s him.”
Reggie looked at Had. He stared back at her. Then he shrugged his shoulders and looked back at Coop and Joshua. It was like the two were in their own private hellish world, and they weren’t taking in anything else.
“But how?” Coop asked, and Reggie was shocked to hear the tremor in her voice. It appeared that she was close to tears. “How could he know we would be here? How could he set this up in advance? How?”
Joshua just shook his head, his eyes riveted on the page with its clear typeface.
“Um, guys?” Had said, clearing his throat. “I get that this is Humpty… right?” He looked into each one of their eyes and then turned once more to Reggie, apparently seeking confirmation. Reggie just shrugged her confusion.
Had turned back to the two with their note. “And I know that it’s really serious and freaking you both out and stuff. But could Reggie and me maybe get a look at that?”
Pointing to the note in their hands, Had spread his hands in a question as both Coop and Joshua lifted their heads from their tête-à-tête. Without speaking, Coop held the note out toward Had and Reggie.
Reggie moved in closer, wanting to see just what could have caused that reaction in the normally sanguine Joshua. The typed words seemed to just squat there on top of the creased piece of paper, but their meaning leapt off the page like some sort of predator.
Dear Special Agent Sariah Cooper,
I’ve missed you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Too long.
It’s sad. You seemed like such a worthy adversary there for about five minutes. But at the smallest sign of failure, you’ve tucked your tail between your legs and have darted behind the alpha. But, darling dear, don’t you know that your precious Joshua has already failed more times than he can count? Not that the number’s got to be all that high to accomplish that, what with the brain damage from his “condition,” but still…
And after all those breadcrumbs I left you. I’m practically hiding in plain sight, m’dear. So now I’ve decided it’s time to get your attention in a more direct fashion.
Let’s see if this manages to spur you into action.
P.S. Joshua, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.
The chill began at the nape of her neck and traveled down to the base of her spine. This was the stuff of which nightmares were made.
Was she sure she wanted to be along for this ride?
CHAPTER 2
The lobby of the Holiday Inn.
Joshua stared around the open area. The tiles on the floor was checked in a large diagonal pattern, cream and gray. The area rug, on which the salmon-colored chairs and couches sat, was perpendicular to the pattern on the floor. More checkers—rectangular this time, alternating gray and blue and cream. Recently updated.
Circular mirror over the fireplace that was mercifully unlit this late in the summer. Somehow, even in the specifics of the room, it felt like he was getting lost in a wash of generalities.
Hotel lobbies all looked alike to Joshua. He’d been in so many of them throughout the course of his life, and he couldn’t for the life of him tell any of them apart.
Bella pushed at his hand, looking for pets. Jumping up, she rested her paws… and her head… in Joshua’s lap. As far as he could tell, she really did think she was a lap dog.
He sat across from Agent Cooper, who had been on the phone with Special-Agent-in-Charge Nathan Tanner for the past five minutes. It sounded like the conversation wasn’t going the way she wanted it to. But the end of the conversation Joshua was getting wasn’t informative enough for him to know what was going on.
It had taken no time at all to wrap up the securities fraud case. It was amazing what a small explosion would do to loosen tongues. But right now, all Joshua could think about was that note.
It had gotten to him. He knew that by thinking about it, he was giving Humpty exactly what the bastard wanted. And yet he was incapable of letting go of it. There was something about the smug condescension of the missive that had hit him right in a sensitive spot.
Because it was him.
Joshua had spent so long following Humpty that he’d gotten to know how the man thought. That was what had been so troubling about the last case. As much as it had seemed to be the serial killer, it hadn’t felt like him.
Not this time.
The bomb was different. That didn’t seem at all like the man Joshua knew. But the note was. The intellect, the taunting, the supreme arrogance exhibited.
The three digits alongside the note in the box. That was new, as well. Three victims at once? That wasn’t the Humpty Joshua knew, but escalation was one of the signs of a serial killer, so it wasn’t that out of the ordinary.
Joshua knew his prey. Even the way he had been dismissed in the note felt right. It was a slight that was intended to get under his skin.
The most disturbing part of it was that it had worked. He lifted the bottle of water to his lips and was shocked to see that he was trembling. Lowering the drink, Joshua glanced from side to side to make sure that no one had noticed.
Bella whimpered and shoved her head against his hand again. Uncanny, that dog.
There had been many times since Joshua had gotten sober that he’d wanted to grab a drink. Never more than he did right now. His attention drifted back to the phone conversation in front of him.
“No, sir,” Coop was saying into the phone. “It came out of nowhere.”
It sounded like she had answered the same question four times. Agent Tanner wasn’t exactly slow on the uptake, so there must be something up.
The bomb. She had told him about the explosion in the building, and now he wouldn’t let it go.
“Austin?” she asked. “What’s happening in Austin?”
Texas? Now they were headed to Texas? Joshua didn’t mind Austin; it was a pretty cool little college town. But Texas in September was something he could do without. What was going on? He tried to capture Coop’s attention, but she waved him off, pointing at the phone. As if he couldn’t tell she was in the middle of a conversation.
“Salazar? I don’t think that’s--”
Shit.
Joshua had no idea why Agent Salazar’s name had come up, but it wasn’t a good thing. From what Joshua knew of the situation, Salazar had acted as Coop’s nemesis since she started working with the BAU.
Joshua had met the guy. Not a terrible agent, a little uncreative in his approach, suffered from arrogance and more than a little machismo. Exactly the kind of guy Coop would never manage to get along with.
And now it sounded like their paths would cross again.
“Yes, sir. I will.” The agent tapped the screen to end her call, and looked up at Joshua. What he saw there confirmed that what had happened was not such a good thing as far as she was concerned.
“What is it?” he asked.
“There was an explosion back in Texas. Some girl found a bomb at her school during recess.”
“How many dead?”
“None, shockingly,” Coop answered. She sketched out the details for him.
A group of schoolchildren had found a bomb out on a playground. No one had gotten killed, although several had been injured. Apparently one little girl had seen the bomb and realized what it was right before it went off and was able
to get everyone mostly clear of the blast radius.
Smart girl.
“Agent Tanner wants us on the case. Thinks the bomb part might not be a coincidence.”
Joshua grunted. “Under normal circumstances, I’d tell him he was smoking crack. But…”
“But this is Humpty we’re talking about,” Agent Cooper agreed, finishing his sentence for him.
He nodded. The bastard had an uncanny knack of always staying one step ahead of him at every turn. It had been that way back when he’d first started working the case, so long ago.
And now it felt like history was repeating itself.
“What was that about Salazar?” he asked, turning his thoughts from Humpty. All thinking about his past mistakes did was make him want to drink. A lot.
“He’s down in Austin, working the case with his team. We’re supposed to team up with him.”
“Sounds like fun,” Joshua said.
“Yeah.” Her jaw clenched, and she opened and closed her hand into a fist. The muscles on her forearm stood out against her mocha skin. She turned her head away from him, gazing over at the unlit fireplace.
Bella trotted over to her side, nudging at her side. Coop scratched at her head, but pulled her hand away as Bella began to lick it. More than willing to give affection, but unable to receive it.
It was time to talk to her.
He’d known for a while that they needed to discuss some things, but the timing had never been right. To be honest, it felt like she’d done what she could to steer clear of any scenario where it could happen.
Joshua had thought that he wanted this, but now that they were here, he found that he was reluctant. Since when had he stopped speaking his mind, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable it might be?
Oh yeah. Since he’d stopped drinking.
The booze had helped him numb out his natural empathy. And now it was starting to come back. That was damned inconvenient.
“Coop… Sariah,” he said, and the agent swiveled her head back around to face him. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“What?” she replied. “I haven’t…” Her voice trailed off, and she slumped into the couch. “All right. I have.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” she shot back. “You’re the only one who will call me out.”
“I don’t call you out,” he answered, then thought better of it. “Okay, I guess I do, but I haven’t been doing a good job of it lately.”
“Yeah, thanks for that.” Her tone was sardonic. “Look, before you start in on me, I can tell you everything that you’re going to say.”
“Really? Then go ahead.”
Coop sighed and rubbed her hand over her closely cropped hair. There were few women that could pull off that harsh of a hairstyle, but she was one of them. Examining her face, Joshua noticed dark circles under her eyes that her darker complexion had covered over. But now that he was close, he could see how bruised she seemed. Battered and beaten down.
“I’m not leading the team. I’m doing a shitty job. I’m a terrible agent.” She ticked off the points on her fingers.
“Yes, yes and no,” Joshua responded, mimicking her by ticking off his answers in the same way. “And that’s not what I was going to say at all.”
“Then what?”
Joshua assessed her. She was fragile. Not as fragile as she thought she was, but still at a point where she could be broken. And whatever beef he might have with her, he didn’t want her shattered.
“You’re a hypocrite.”
That got to her. And for the first time in quite a while, Coop looked like she was pissed off.
Success.
She ground her teeth, then snapped out one word.
“Explain.”
“You found me in a gutter out in back of a bar, drunk and sitting in a pool of my own bodily fluids. Figuratively speaking.”
She frowned. “Not so figurative, if I remember right.”
Joshua waved off her comment. It was a distraction from the real point. He knew it. He was pretty sure that she knew it.
But it was time to say it.
“You’re going through a crisis,” he said. “I get it. But you haven’t earned it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Joshua pierced her with a look that seemed to back her down a bit. “You picked me out of the garbage and forced me to clean up. And I have.”
She nodded, acknowledging the truth of his statements. Good. It would make things easier if they at least weren’t lying to each other or themselves.
“Now you’ve taken a nosedive. Right when your team needs you.”
Her chin went up, and there was fire in her eyes. “Something you should know about.”
“Yep. Exactly right,” he admitted. He wasn’t about to shy away from the truth. But he also wasn’t going to back down. “You’d think it would make me more empathetic, right? More willing to work through your pain with you?”
Coop peered at him with eyes glazed over by suspicion. She could feel the trap he was laying for her, but couldn’t see exactly what it might be. He pointed right at her.
“That’s all bullshit.”
Again, her face heated up and her jaw clenched. Good signs. Her pissed off was good. Her worried or distant? Not so much. He continued.
“Truth is, it doesn’t matter whether or not you’re broken. There’s a job to do, and you have to do it.”
She advanced on him, her index finger pointed at his chest. “No, that’s the bullshit.” Bella sat between them and barked, once, the sound echoing through the empty space of the lobby, but Coop ignored her. “You’re trying to guilt me into picking up the mantle again. Saying there’s no one else. But there is. You.”
Joshua opened his mouth to retort, but right at that moment, Had sauntered up to them, coming from the direction of the breakfast buffet. He was still munching on a piece of buttered toast.
“Hey guys,” he said, looking first at Coop, then at Joshua. “What’d I miss?”
* * *
Sariah sat in the aisle seat on the plane, working up her courage to ask the flight attendant for a cocktail. Three times she’d started to order, and three times she’d caught sight of Joshua’s ankle and seen the monitor there.
Seriously, you’d think the guy would want to hide that thing a little more.
But the sight did serve to back her off. Needing a drink was a much different thing than just wanting one. And she felt like she needed one right now.
Bella was sleeping on Joshua’s lap, and once again, Coop marveled at what that dog had done for him. The extra expense of buying out the row of seats was worth it.
Maybe she needed a dog. That could be the thing that would pull her out of her funk. A furry companion who would love her and support her and…
And be utterly dependent on her.
No thanks.
A sudden image of her trying to care for a dog, which inexplicably was a miniature Chihuahua, came into her mind. The vision was so ludicrous that a bark of laughter escaped her mouth before she could stop it. She clamped her hand over her mouth, but the damage had been done.
Not only had everyone in her near vicinity turned to look at her, but the flight attendant, who had been just about to pass her by, stopped in the middle of the aisle and gazed down at her, the expression on her face concerned.
“Miss, are you okay?”
Sariah nodded, wishing she were stable enough to order that drink. Swallowing, she pushed down the giggles that threatened to surge up again. As she forced them down in a way that she would almost describe as violent, a different emotion surfaced.
Now, all of the sudden, Sariah wanted to weep.
The laughter was a lot better. People might think she was crazy that way, but at least they wouldn’t know the truth. They wouldn’t know she was weak.
She glanced up, catching the eye of Joshua, who had turned around and was observing her. The weight of their unfinished conversation hung
between them, and after a long moment, he turned around to face the front of the cabin.
Bella sat up in his lap and Sariah could see that the Boxador had her service dog vest on. It was the only way she was allowed on the flights. The fact that she had never been trained as a service animal seemed irrelevant to Joshua. She poked her head out to loll her tongue in Sariah’s general direction.
A smile came to her face, unbidden. She hadn’t thought the dog was a good idea. Man, had she been wrong.
The smile faded as fast as it had appeared. Wrong. She had been wrong about so many things.
Some people got to be wrong. She saw it around her every day. If the flight attendant made a mistake, someone would end up with the wrong drink, or would maybe get a little confused about in-flight safety. The maid back at the hotel? When she messed up, the wrong number of towels ended up in someone’s room.
But when Sariah screwed up, people died.
The insecurities that had plagued her for so long surged back up, choking her. She sat back in her seat, trying to steady her breathing.
At her side, an older woman smiled at her, closing her copy of the airline magazine. She tapped the cover with a finger.
“You’d be amazed at some of what’s in there,” she said, chuckling. “I’m not sure if this damned thing is a sign of the impending apocalypse or a beacon of our ingenuity.”
“Both?” Sariah ventured, and the woman laughed. Her face was wrinkled, age spots blooming on her forehead and her cheeks. But her gaze was steady, and her eyes twinkled with a youthful mischief.
“Are you a friend of Bill’s?” The older woman asked.
“What?”
“Oh,” the woman said, and raised a hand to her mouth. “Sorry. I just saw you looking at the drink cart so intently, I guess…” Her voice trailed off, and the gleam in her eye seemed to dim. For some reason that made Sariah sad.
Friend of Bill. Oh. She was talking about AA. William Wilson, better known to alcoholics as Bill W., was one of the founders of the anonymous group.
“No, please,” Sariah said, reaching out a hand to touch the woman’s arm. She wanted to see that spark come back. “I’m not an alcoholic, but I’ve got a lot of experience with them.”
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