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

by Carolyn McCray

“Really?” His eyes got big. “Is that true?”

  “Who knows? Maybe you should look it up.” She grinned at him, then gave him a much more serious expression. “Now, it’s time for you to get some sleep.”

  “Right. Right. Sleep. On it, boss.”

  Now that most of the passengers had boarded, it looked like Sariah’s row was unoccupied except for her. So rather than put her carryon above her in the overhead bin, she placed it on the seat next to her. If someone else were to sit down, she could always move it. She settled into her chair, doing what she could to get comfortable. She hated flying so much.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Had was striking up a conversation with the Mexican woman next to him. She was laughing at something he’d just said, showing all of her teeth. The man had a talent for introductions. Sariah found that she was a bit jealous of that ability.

  Peering up toward the front of the plane, she watched as Joshua started speaking with one of the flight attendants. The conversation heated up fast, and before long there were strong gestures accompanying Joshua’s words, which got louder and louder the further along the discussion continued.

  “I have to wait until the plane takes off? What, will the alcohol explode at sea level?” Joshua’s face was turning a darker shade as his volume increased.

  There was a quieter response from the attendant, which Sariah couldn’t hear. The hapless woman appeared to be doing all she could to keep the situation from escalating.

  “Look. I have money. Well, actually, she has money. Back there.” To Sariah’s chagrin, Joshua pointed back at her. She was now connected to his temper tantrum.

  “I’m sorry,” the woman now spoke with enough volume that both could hear, “but you’re going to have to wait until service begins.”

  “Of course,” Sariah replied, giving Joshua a glare. “Our apologies.”

  “I’m not apologizing. I want a drink,” he shot back, giving as good as he was getting in terms of hard looks.

  “Sir, if you don’t calm down and put on your seat belt, I’m afraid I’ll have to call the Marshall.”

  “Whatever.” Joshua sat back and popped his earplugs back in. Sariah hoped that would be the end of it, but she would keep an eye on him during the flight, just to make certain there were no further incidents. If that man wasn’t careful, he would end up in prison before long.

  She pulled out her tablet, setting it to airplane mode. There was an hour and a half before they would touch down in Charleston. More than enough time to get some work in. Once they got there, it would be non-stop dealing with the local authorities, and her experience in the south had not been pleasant to date. A Black woman couldn’t possibly be any good as an agent, could she? It was getting better, and Charleston wasn’t a tiny little hick town by any stretch, but it was still the south.

  The only problem she had now was to convince herself that they were wrong in their assessment. A tiny voice that still managed to make itself heard loud and clear was yelling they were right, they were right, they were right.

  She spent most of the flight trying to yell them down.

  CHAPTER 7

  “This is awesome!” Had enthused as he entered his hotel room, wrestling his three suitcases in with him. It had been a bit of a challenge getting them all up here at once, but he had persevered, and now wouldn’t have to make a second trip.

  The excitement sang through his body. He was in Charleston, South Carolina! Okay, he was in a hotel room that looked like any other hotel room in any other city in any other state in the U.S., but still… it was a city he’d never been to before.

  Had called over his shoulder to Joshua. “Did you know that the first game of golf played in America was here in Charleston?” He’d looked it up when he found out they were coming here.

  The room had that specific scent common to every hotel. A combination of stale coffee, bleach and recycled air. It was a non-smoking room in a mid-level chain hotel, so it didn’t have the additional tang of old cigarette smoke. But other than that alteration to the smell, if he closed his eyes, Had could have been staying at the Motel 6 down the road from him in Ann Arbor. They said it was smoke-free, but who were they kidding?

  Opening his eyes, there were definite differences. The Holiday Inn was a clear step up from Motel 6. Bigger rooms, nicer bedspreads… and was that an Ethernet connection port? He’d already set up his phone with the wireless, but the port would be more stable for when he was using his laptop. Sweet.

  And since there was a huge convention going on and rooms had been scarce, he and Joshua had been put together in a room. That meant that he would have a chance to get to know his new teammate. There were all kinds of things that Had was dying to ask.

  “I didn’t know that fascinating little golf fact, and I’m still missing the ‘awesome’ part,” came a voice from the entryway.

  Joshua walked into the room with his one small duffle bag, which he threw on the bed nearest the door. He then made a straight line for the minibar. Throwing open the door, he sighed in relief as he studied the contents of the small cooling device. Whatever he’d found there seemed to have made him… well, not happy, but at least content.

  It became clear a moment later when he backed away from the bar, gripping a mini bottle of whiskey. In one fluid movement he twisted off the top and poured the liquid down his gullet, letting out a groan of pleasure.

  “Well, it’s awesome for me, at least,” Had replied. “I’d only been out of Michigan once before today, and now I’ve been in two states in less than twelve hours.”

  Joshua grunted as he sat down on the bed, grabbing the TV guide on the nightstand and giving it a once over. “Technically, D.C.’s a district, not a state.”

  “Oh, I know that. I’m talking about Virginia. You know, Quantico.”

  “Right. How could I forget?” Joshua grabbed the remote and turned on the television, flipping through the channels. He would pause long enough to register what was on before moving to the next. Once he’d cycled through all the channels, he turned off the set and rubbed his hands over his face. “Thirteen years with little to no television, and there’s still nothing good on.”

  Had swiped the guide off the ground where Joshua had tossed it and glanced through the pamphlet. “Says that Modern Family is on in a few minutes. Love that show. You should check it out.”

  The response from the other side of the room was somewhere between a grunt and a cough. Hey, at least it was a response. An idea sparked in Had’s brain.

  “I know what we could do. We could play a get-to-know-you game.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No,” Joshua responded with no change in tone. He had lain back in the bed with the pillows propped up under his head and had closed his eyes.

  “What if we just talked?” There was no way that Had was going to waste this opportunity. There was so much amazing experience locked away in the brain that reposed mere feet away from him.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No, thanks,” the former agent said, giving the statement a finality that would’ve ended the conversation for most people. Had, however, was not most people. He’d backed off for the moment, but if Joshua though that was going to be the end of it, he was in for a surprise.

  Had surveyed the rest of the room, his eyes landing on a room service menu for the Meeting Room, the restaurant downstairs. Another idea burst into his mind. Joshua had to eat, right?

  “Want to order some food? There’s room service and everything.”

  Joshua groaned and pushed himself upright. “Let me guess. You’ve never had room service before.”

  “Nope. First time.”

  Grabbing the menu from Had, Joshua perused the offerings and then handed it back. “They’ve got some drinks here. Pretty girly, but what the hell. Order me the sausage with black mustard, the coulotte steak and five of the… whatever they call their martinis.”

  Had choked a bit. “
Five?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Okay.”

  He called down and put Joshua’s order in. He then ordered for himself the shrimp and grits with chorizo, the fried oysters and the sea scallops. With a bottle of beer. It seemed like a lot of food, but he was hungry.

  Settling in to wait for the food, Had turned on the TV and made his way over to the episode of Modern Family that was running. It was a rerun… the one where Phil and Clare try to throw a birthday party for Luke.

  It was most of the way through the episode. Haley had set loose the scorpion, the scorpion had scared Cameron-as-Fizbo, who then scared Phil who was terrified of clowns. In between laughing fits, Had heard a strangled sound coming from the other side of the room.

  Glancing over at Joshua, Had was shocked to see tears running down his cheeks. The former agent was shaking, his face red and blotchy.

  “Are you okay?” Had asked, concerned. Maybe there was something about the show that was reminding Joshua of his own family.

  Holding up his hand, Joshua nodded, trying to get control of his breathing. After a moment or two, he pointed at the screen and sputtered out, “This… this is really funny.”

  He was laughing. Joshua was laughing so hard he was crying.

  This really was awesome.

  There was a knock at the door. Their food had arrived. Had ran to the door and flung it wide, almost gasping as he saw the trays and platters of food. This was so exciting. The waiter moved in as Had backed his way into the room. Had smiled at the man, who was still standing there.

  The waiter smiled back and cleared his throat.

  Had nodded at him. “Gesundheit. Or whatever you say for a cough.”

  “He’s waiting for a tip,” Joshua spoke, wiping the tears off of his cheeks.

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” His smile stretched into a grin as he looked around for his wallet. “First time.”

  The waiter nodded as Had placed a twenty into his hand. He should’ve known enough to tip the guy, but Had had been so thrilled to see all the food, that everything else had gone out of his head. The door closed behind the server, and Had turned back to face Joshua, who already had one of the vagabond martinis in his hand.

  “Let’s dig in.” Had pulled the lids off the trays and inhaled the aroma of the food. They were breaking bread together. There was no way Joshua could resist the combination of good food, good company and a little bit of alcohol.

  It was going to be a great night.

  * * *

  Sariah was up, showered and ready to go by 7:30. She headed over to the boys’ room, hoping against hope that things had gone well last night. From what she had observed of these two so far, she was putting the odds of that pretty low.

  As she approached the door, she saw the remains of their evening meal outside the door on a cart. Some fat from a steak sat hardening on the top of a stack of plates, next to an empty beer bottle and five martini glasses. She frowned, then did a double-take. One of the martini glasses wasn’t empty. There were a few drops left at the bottom of the glass.

  That couldn’t be right. She leaned down and dipped a finger in the fluid that remained at the bottom, lifting the finger up to catch the scent of the liquid. It was what smelled like the remains of a vodka martini. Dirty.

  What the hell had taken place last night that had kept an alcoholic from licking the glass to get the last few precious molecules of the good stuff? From Sariah’s experience, that never happened.

  Scenario after horrific scenario flickered through her mind as she steeled herself to knock on the door. After only a moment or two, Had answered, fully dressed in a shirt and tie with a huge grin stretching from one side of his face to the other.

  “Good morning, Coop!”

  “Had,” she replied, nodding. Trying to peer around him, she asked, “Where’s Joshua? Is he up?”

  “Oh, he’s not here.” Had looked around, almost as if he didn’t trust his own statement. “He was up way before me, I think. Doesn’t sleep much, does he? Must’ve gone down for breakfast or something.”

  “Yeah, he’s a regular night-owl-slash-early-bird, our Joshua is.” Sariah pointed into the interior of the room. “Mind if I come in?”

  “Sure. Hold on a sec.” He let the door close, and Sariah heard the sounds of him scurrying around the room before he returned. This time, he swung the door wide. “Just needed to straighten up a bit.”

  There were no signs of a fight in the room, and Had appeared to be fine. She swiveled her head around the space as she sat down on the just-made bed. All indicators were that nothing bad had occurred, but Sariah had to ask.

  “Did… Were you… How did things go last night?”

  Had grinned. “Great! We had some awesome room service, watched TV and talked!” He seemed proud of himself. If what he was saying was accurate, she’d be proud of herself, too.

  “You talked?”

  “Yeah. It was great.”

  “And were those martinis yours?” Sariah asked, pointing her thumb toward the entrance where the room service cart was.

  “Oh, no,” Had shook his head, appearing mortified at the thought. “I only had a beer.”

  “The martinis were Joshua’s, then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “All five?”

  He nodded. “Man, can he put it away. Between that and the minibar, he must’ve had six or seven.” Had paused to think for a moment. “Maybe eight.”

  “Wow.” That was a lot of alcohol. Then she had a thought that maybe could explain the leftover drops. “So you cut him off?”

  “No. He said you guys had an arrangement or something.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d check it through with you this morning. I would’ve done something if he’d gotten out of hand, but he hardly seemed drunk at all.”

  “And you guys just talked?”

  “Yeah.” Had paused for a moment, looking like he was thinking. “Well, I guess I did most of the talking, come to think of it. He mostly just listened.”

  “But he actually listened to you? That’s something.”

  “Well, that and glared,” Had amended. “But only once or twice. And there was no punching.”

  “Sounds like a great time.”

  “Hey, if he thinks he’s going to get to me with just looks, it’s only because he’s never met my mama. She could strip the paint off furniture with the glares she gives.”

  “That’s quite an image. Well,” Sariah slapped her hands against her thighs and stood up. “Ready to head down?”

  “Sure thing. You eating breakfast?” Had patted his belly. “I’m still full from last night.”

  “No. I’ve talked to the captain over at the local precinct. We’ll head over there to see what the M.E. has found, and then on to the site.” As she turned around, her leg brushed up against the bed. She felt the lump of the monitor there at her ankle. “Oh, hey, hold on a sec.” Sariah reached down and took the band off, rubbing at where the monitor had chafed her skin.

  “What’s that?” Had asked, surprised. “You on house arrest?”

  “It’s a blood-alcohol monitor.” She looked up to see the look on Had’s face. “It was supposed to be for Joshua, but…” Sariah grimaced and switched the monitor to her other leg. “You can take it off every 48 hours, so that it doesn’t leave sores.”

  “And you’re wearing it because…?”

  “Have you seen Joshua? Do you really think he could function without it?”

  Had seemed to think that over for a bit. “Good call.” He then changed gears so fast that Sariah almost got whiplash. “Hey, did you know that Porgy and Bess from that Gershwin musical are buried out on James Island? Cool, right?”

  Seeing as how she had no response to that at all, Sariah just nodded. As they left the room, she glanced once more at the alcohol at the bottom of the glass. There had to be an explanation. Wet glasses and alcoholics just didn’t go together. Maybe he’d just passed out? That had to be it.

  It was the only co
nclusion that made sense.

  * * *

  Joshua’s head throbbed in time with the Indian techno music that blared out of the speakers of the cab. Kashif, Bilal’s cousin, managed to take his relative’s annoying enthusiasm and raise it to a whole new level. The driver smacked his gum in time to the music, the car dancing with an enthusiasm that left Joshua feeling as if the energy had been sucked out of the taxicab by force.

  At least his command of the English language was superior to his older cousin’s back in D.C. Although he did seem to have learned it by watching old Tyler Perry films.

  “Yo, dawgs, y’all headed out to hang with the popo? That’s wack, bitches.”

  Glancing at Agent Cooper, Joshua watched as she gave the driver an insincere smile and then heaved a big sigh. The cab ride was only supposed to be twenty minutes long. It felt like an eternity.

  Kashif dropped them off in front of the police station on Lockwood Drive, assuring them that he would be back to pick them up the second they called him. Joshua was tempted to find the business card Bilal had given Had and rip it into tiny shreds.

  The mix of coffee and Irish whiskey that Joshua had consumed this morning with his breakfast were battling it out with the bacon, eggs and toast he’d also managed to put away. He’d eaten more food in the last day than he’d had in the past seven days combined, and his body had no idea what to do with it.

  The concrete staircase leading up to the Charleston Police Department stretched in front of him, the air shimmering in the heat reflected off of the stone surface. He was already sweating, had been since he’d stepped out of the shower this morning at 4:30. He’d put on some clothes and waited out in the lobby until the restaurant had opened at five. He’d been finished for more than two hours when Had and Coop finally got there.

  This all felt too familiar. Working for the BAU, Joshua had made his way around the nation, stopping off at one law enforcement building after another. He’d trekked across the country, tracking down serial killers, assisting in cases that had the local authorities stymied.

  And here he was, doing it again.

  He had to admit, having a bed to sleep in and food to eat was nice. Having a conversation with someone who wasn’t coming down from on high to talk to the homeless guy was also pleasant.