There was a grace about her that was mesmerizing, a way of moving that suggested a culture that was both foreign and much more comfortable with itself than America’s typically was. That was something Reggie understood well, being part of the Navajo tribe.
There was a loud noise back at the entrance to the mortuary, and Reggie’s attention was drawn to the disturbance. Someone was trying to make her way into the lobby with what appeared to be big plastic bags in her hands.
Wait. Was that…?
It was Had’s mother.
The woman was tiny, but she seemed to know how to throw her weight around. And from the smell that wafted up from the plastic bags, Ms. Hadderly had brought food. A ton of food.
“Mama?” Had said, his expression slack. “What…? How…?”
Ms. Hadderly blew a stray strand of hair out of her eyes before looking at her son. “Well, someone wasn’t answerin’ his phone. So I called your boss.” She smiled and nodded to the rest of the group, as if the conversation was over and done now.
“You called…?” Had sputtered. “You called Agent Cooper?” Had gave Coop a hard look, but she seemed just as surprised as the rest of them. Well, Joshua seemed to be inordinately preoccupied with the bags Had’s mom was carting around. Bella too.
“No, honeybun,” she corrected him. “It was that nice man… oh, what’s his name. Tanner.”
“You… Tanner…? I...” Seeing Had at a loss for words was not something that was an everyday occurrence. Reggie knew Ms. Hadderly to be a force of nature, but seeing her in action was always impressive.
“Now,” she said, setting down her bags with a thump after directing a hard warning look at both Bella and Joshua. “You want to explain to your mama why my calls keep goin’ to voicemail?” She placed her hands on her hips.
“I… I don’t know,” Had confessed. He pulled out his phone and examined it. “I think I forgot to charge my cell.”
“Well, then… all is forgiven.” Ms. Hadderly rushed over to her son, enveloping him in a huge bear hug. Reggie wasn’t sure how someone that small managed a bear hug, but it was the only descriptor she could think to use for the embrace.
After the hug had gone on for quite some time, Had’s mother held him out at arm’s length, giving him a once-over. “Son, you look like hell.”
“Thanks a lot, Mama,” Had answered, embarrassed.
“Don’t you sass me, boy. I’ll take you over my knee; I don’t care who’s here to see it,” she said, giving her son a little shake. “Good thing I brought some nourishment.”
“Nourishment?” Joshua asked, his tone eager. “Is that what I think it is?” he pressed, pointing at the bags surrounding the petite southern woman.
“Depends,” she replied, giving him an appraising look. “You still a grumpy Gus?”
Joshua thought about that for a moment. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Good. ‘To thine own self be true.’ Or somethin’ like that.” She punched Joshua in the arm and gave Bella a scratch. The former agent winced, but Bella seemed to be in heaven.
That answered Reggie’s question regarding violence towards Joshua as far as Bella was concerned. Good thing to know.
Then Ms. Hadderly turned to face Agent Cooper, who was sitting in an overstuffed chair and up to this point had been silent. The small woman marched over to stand right in front of the BAU agent.
“Agent Cooper,” she demanded. “Stand up.”
Coop stood, her expression wary. When she was upright in front of Ms. Hadderly, the southern woman wrapped her arms around Agent Cooper, giving her a big squeeze. The surprise on Coop’s face would have been comical in any other situation but this one. Truth be told, even before a funeral this was pretty amusing.
“My boy tells me all the time what a great woman you are, so I know it must be true.” She shook her head. “But so help me, if you don’t get your head out of your ass, I’m goin’ to have to stick my foot up there to take its place.”
She turned away from Coop, leaving the BAU agent reeling from the brief but descriptive exchange. Reggie felt sorry for her, until she saw that Ms. Hadderly was making a beeline straight for her now. Bracing herself, she did what she could to prepare. But how was anyone supposed to prepare for a tsunami?
“Reggie, I still think you and my son should be shackin’ up by now,” Had’s mother said with a twinkle in her eye, after releasing Reggie from the vice grip of her hug. “But he keeps sayin’ some nonsense about Latin dance. Never shoulda given that boy dance lessons.” She shook her head sadly, and all Reggie could do was give her a wan smile in response.
By then, Ms. Hadderly was on to her next victim. She was making her way over to Nadira, and Reggie cringed to think of what was going to happen next.
But rather than sweep her up in some big embrace or say something direct and inappropriate, Had’s mother just sat down next to Nadira and placed a hand on her shoulder, her face concerned.
“Sweetie. I’m so sorry about your pappy. Had told me all about him, and I can tell he was one of the good ones.”
Nadira’s face twisted in on itself and she started to cry. Ms. Hadderly pulled her into a soft hug, stroking her shoulder. Had’s mother nodded to Amal, who was looking on at Nadira’s side, tears starting in her eyes. The look that passed between them seemed to Reggie to be some kind of mother-to-mother communication. A sympathy for what had happened that needed no words, and an acknowledgement that Had’s mother harbored no designs on Nadira’s affections.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. There ain’t nothin’ that anyone can say what’ll make you feel better, and that’s just the truth of it.” She sat there, rocking the young woman for a long moment. Then she pulled away and looked her in the eye. “But what we can do is go in and celebrate the life of this man. And then eat ourselves senseless.” She gestured to the bags still clustered around where she had been standing earlier.
Nadira smiled. It was a pale, watery smile, but it was genuine, and Reggie felt tears spring to her eyes in response. There was something about this whirlwind of a woman that was just perfect for this moment.
And then she was up once more, and shooing away Bella from the bags. “Git! This is for after, you thievin’ mutt!” She leaned down and gave Bella another scratch, almost as if she were taking the sting out of her words.
Then she stood up and looked around.
“Okay, y’all. Let’s get this shindig started!”
She marched into the chapel, leaving the rest of the group grinning in her wake.
Yep. Just perfect.
* * *
Sariah groaned as she pulled herself out of bed. The funeral yesterday had taken more out of her than she cared to admit. No amount of tornado energy from one southern mom could make up for the fact that they were mourning the loss of a friend.
Not even the enormous amounts of food Ms. Hadderly had brought along with her could fill the void left by the Pakistani cab driver. Her smoked brisket was to die for, but even Bella had eaten with less enthusiasm than normal.
It had been strange for Sariah to admit that. She hadn’t been all that thrilled about the initial arrangement with Bilal. From what she could recall, she hadn’t been too vocal about it, at least not as much as Joshua, but there had been more than once that she’d thought to herself that maybe they could stand to have one cab ride that wasn’t filled with Bilal saying “my friend” every other sentence.
But to have him gone, the man who had been a semi-constant for them, had been a shock. Bilal had been a person who, even when they were out in the field, almost always had a recommendation for them from his seemingly endless network of taxicab drivers. Sariah had been worried that they would be the only ones in attendance at the service, but the place had been packed to the rafters. They’d seen many familiar faces, as drivers from all over the US had come to pay their respects.
Even Micha, the Polish cabbie from Richmond, had been there, and when he had seen Bella, he’d backed up in amazement. Pointin
g at the dog, he had grinned at Joshua.
“She is no szczeniak now, yes? No puppy?”
Even Joshua had seemed touched by his memory of their first encounter with someone who was now a member of their team. And in an odd way, that’s how she was feeling right now. That they’d lost a member of their team.
Small wonder that she felt like she’d been run over by a truck. But now it was time to reenter the flow of work.
Sariah dreaded it. It was unclear to her whether the main issue was dealing with Salazar and the new agent, or if it was the same desire to crawl under a rock rather than take any responsibility for leading the team.
Both, now that she took a look at it. Having other agents from the BAU there would force her hand. Which was probably why Agent Tanner had done it.
Problem was, she didn’t think it would work. She could continue to reject decision making, but now it would be a public thing, information known to the rest of Bureau. At least before, it had been nice and contained within their little oddball group.
There wasn’t a chance in hell that Salazar would keep quiet about any perceived screw ups on Sariah’s part. She’d be lucky if he didn’t malign her even if she was on her A game. Just the thought of the potential conflicts made her cringe.
At least Joshua could be counted on to behave himself. He’d been the one guy who had always managed to handle the cocky agent in the past. It was with Salazar that Sariah had started to realize that when Joshua pushed back against you, it was his way of showing you respect. The nice face he turned on Salazar was an indication of disdain.
But Salazar didn’t have to know that.
Moving through her apartment, Sariah was struck by how unfamiliar the place was to her. It was your typical studio, decorated in a Spartan, if tasteful, fashion. But she couldn’t point to a single thing that said that it was her place. Even its smell was unfamiliar to her.
So if her place of residence didn’t smell or feel like home, what did? Hotel rooms? Certainly there was a scent there, one that she identified with being on the job. And Sariah loved her job. Or at least she had.
That wasn’t it, though.
Maybe she didn’t have one. Perhaps for her the smell of home didn’t exist.
She moved into the bathroom, turning on the water in the shower to get it heating up. Then she encountered herself in the mirror.
Strong jaw with arching eyebrows. Well-trimmed hair, close cropped almost to the scalp. Piercing eyes that could also be expressive when she wanted them to be. Full lips that hinted at sensual potential.
A good face. Not necessarily a kind face, but solid, trustworthy. One that Sariah enjoyed greeting in the mornings, most of the time.
Not now.
Because besides the laundry list of good qualities her face possessed, Sariah now saw many others. A weak chin, indicative of her lack of confidence in either herself or her colleagues. Dark stains under her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights spent dreaming of ways to escape her guilt and accountability. Pinching at the corners of her lips and eyes, radiating a pressure that was continuing to build inside her.
She turned away from the mirror, stripping off her t-shirt, sweats and panties. Stepping into the steaming shower, Sariah let the hot water… too hot, almost scalding, pour over her body. The heat was enough to almost scald her, but she forced herself to stay inside the stream of water.
The pain built and built, but then reached a peak and began to subside as her body grew accustomed to the temperature of the water. Her tension began to bleed away, swirling around the drain in the bottom of the tub. She imagined that she could see that pressure, a dark black streak running through the clear water, tainting it.
This was her life right now. The pressures of leadership had grown more and more painful to her, and now she had allowed them to slough off like a second skin. Soon, they would be there in the sewer with the rest of her problems. The shower would wash her clean.
The problem was, the members of her team wouldn’t let it go. They all wanted her to pick the mantle back up. To take charge. To kick ass and take names.
But that just wasn’t her any longer. The square jaw was still there, but it was just a revenant. A specter of her past life as a strong, capable woman who was ready to fight every man around… and a few of the women… to prove that she could do as much if not more. But it had all been a lie she had told herself to protect her from her own weakness. The real her was the chin, retiring, weak… cowed.
Her team wouldn’t let it go, and truth be told, she couldn’t blame them. She was still holding on herself. By her fingernails, but still clinging, griping the edges of her feminist power. What would it feel like to let go entirely?
She had a feeling she might find out today.
* * *
Joshua was hung over.
Oh, he hadn’t fallen off the wagon. His ankle monitor hadn’t beeped, no one had been alerted of any illicit inebriation on his part. He was clean and sober. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in a window of one of the offices he passed on his way in to meet with the other members of the team. His face was scruffy and bloated. Well, he was sober at least.
But he still had the headache, the sensitivity to light and sound. When Bella had jumped up on his bed this morning, he thought for a moment that the bouncing might just break his head in half. It had taken all of his self-control not to throw her off the bed.
Well, self-control and the fact that he didn’t really have the strength right now.
What was up with him?
Bella whined up at him, head-butting him in the leg. He reached down to give her ears an absent-minded rub. She always got like this when he was hurting.
The headache, he remembered, had started yesterday before the funeral. He hadn’t wanted to go, not even a little bit. Bilal hadn’t been a part of their lives, not really. They were attending the event out of some warped sense of guilt, but Joshua wasn’t falling for that shit.
It wasn’t their fault that Bilal had died. That was just the way the world worked sometimes. You didn’t have to like it, but there wasn’t a whole lot you could do about it, either. Life just sucked sometimes, and the sooner you figured that out, the better it would be. Joshua felt bad, sure. But attending the funeral, going through the whole mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa thing that Had was doing right now? Didn’t help.
Joshua knew. He’d spent ten years doing the same dance. Guilt was toxic.
But dealing with all of the fake grief around him had messed with his head. And then, to make up for it, he’d chowed down on Ms. Hadderly’s feast. Brisket, ribs, pulled pork, fluffy mashed potatoes, lemon cream pie… the real question there was how the hell she’d managed to travel out from Michigan with the food still tasting as good as it had.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen that woman pull off a food miracle, but that didn’t diminish his amazement when he beheld the feat again. The memory of her ribs would be one that would haunt him to his grave. They had a sugar maple glaze that had caramelized on the outside, while the meat was tender with still a good bite to it. Best ribs he’d eaten, bar none.
But he’d consumed too much. He’d known it in the moment, but there had been no way to control himself. Maybe that’s what people were talking about when they yammered on and on about emotional eating. Joshua didn’t have too much experience in that area. He’d always just gotten drunk.
Maybe he should hit an Overeaters Anonymous meeting or something. Not that he was a big fan of twelve-step programs. Bunch of whiny-ass pussies.
“Joshua!” came a voice from behind him. Reggie.
He winced before he could stop himself, and Reggie picked up on it. She had a talent in that area, and it pissed Joshua off.
“What’s up?” She stopped and looked at him more closely. “Did you drink last night?”
“Sure,” Joshua said, refusing to play into the checking-in thing that was implied with the question.
But Reggie was more intellige
nt than that. “All right, smart ass. If you didn’t drink, then what’s going on?”
“Just have a headache.”
“Uh huh,” she said, her tone unbelieving. She peered at him. “I see the headache, it’s written all over your face. But there’s something else going on here.”
Perfect time for her to go all hoodoo guru on him. He started to frown but then realized that was just playing into what she was saying. So instead he plastered on the largest smile he could manage without his face cracking in two.
“You got it, babe,” he quipped. “I’m a riddle wrapped in an enigma and smothered in mysterious sauce.” He winked at her. “With whipped cream on top.”
“What, no cherry?” she answered back, picking up on his back-off vibe and actually backing off. She bent down to greet Bella, who gave her an enthusiastic kiss in response, making her giggle and wipe at her face.
Reggie possessed a sensitivity that was remarkable. One that was expressed in more than just the way she had given him space just now.
That was maybe a skill she could teach Had. Or Coop, for that matter, although lately he could stand to have a little more interference from the BAU agent.
Joshua glanced at Reggie while trying not to seem like he was looking. It made him go cross-eyed and his headache exploded back into life, but it was worth it. She moved with a grace that was almost criminal.
What was amazing about Reggie was that it was obvious that she knew she was attractive. It was also just as clear that she spent little time stressing about it. She allowed herself to be goofy, awkward, intense, intelligent, even pushy, all without sacrificing her femininity at any point. As physically stunning as she was, that was the least interesting quality she possessed.
Although right at the moment, it was the physical that was distracting Joshua from the intense throbbing in his forehead. He wrenched his attention back to what lay ahead.
Walking into the conference room that had been set up for them, Joshua encountered a surly Salazar and a young Latina who he didn’t recognize. The two new members of their team.
Nursery Rhyme Murders Collection_3-4-2017 Page 51
