It all tasted like guilt to Joshua.
There was no way he should be enjoying himself. It was not supposed to be part of this equation. He couldn’t go back, that was clear from what had happened back in the alley with the girl.
But what the hell was he doing here?
The act of climbing the stairs left him winded. Agent Cooper and Officer Hadderly seemed to be more than fine, but even they had a sheen of sweat on their brows. Man it was hot. This heat made summer in Manhattan feel like a trip to the spa.
Had opened one of the double doors that led to the interior, holding it for Coop and Joshua. As he passed by the young cop, Had slapped him on the shoulder with a certain amount of familiarity. Joshua would have to do something about that. Getting too close to Joshua was like swimming in an oil slick. You were going to come away dirty.
No one deserved that, least of all Had.
The cool air from inside swept around Joshua as he entered the building, giving him a momentary chill as his body adjusted to the change in temperature. Maybe if he was lucky, Joshua’d end up catching a cold or something. That would make sure he stayed miserable while he was working this case.
“Where’s the morgue?” Agent Cooper asked the lady at the front desk. She was large, with a hairdo that made her look that much larger. Her face was slathered in makeup, her lips a bright fire engine red.
“Downstairs and to the right,” the woman answered, her voice colored by a pleasant southern drawl.
“Thanks,” Coop responded, catching Had by the shoulder as he started toward the woman. Joshua could only guess that he had been about to start a conversation with her. When it came to interpersonal intercourse, the guy was insatiable. Joshua thought back to the previous evening. How much had he told the young cop? Couldn’t have been much. It was all a bit of a blur.
The morgue was even colder, and Joshua was beginning to wish he’d dressed more warmly. Insane, of course, in South Carolina, but if he had any say in it, they weren’t going to be staying long down here.
“Ah, the group from Quantico,” a florid, grey-haired man in a white lab coat called out from the opposite side of the room. The team moved into the open space occupied by carts of bodies covered in sheets.
“Dr. LeCheminant. Thank you for taking the time to meet with us.” Agent Cooper said, holding out her hand to shake his. He held up his gloved hands as explanation for why he didn’t return the gesture.
“Well, darlin’. That’s my job, now isn’t it?” Somehow, the casual way he addressed Coop was somehow inoffensive. There was an ease in the way he spoke and held himself that indicated that anyone and everyone would get the same treatment, male or female, Black or White. This was one of the genteel folk from this part of the country. The M.E. might be sexist. He might be racist. But he wasn’t going to get all up in arms about either one.
“What were you able to find?” Coop prompted, following the man over to a table where a disembodied hand rested.
“Nothing much, I’m afraid. The DNA matched the results of the samples your colleagues over at the BAU sent me.” The M.E. moved over to the far side of the table to allow room for the three to congregate.
“Was it frozen, like the others?” Had asked, his expression more serious than Joshua had seen it so far.
“Yessir, it was indeed,” Dr. LeCheminant assented. “But this one was in a much more deteriorated state. Been there in the sandbox area of the park at least a month without being disturbed, I’d guess.”
The hand did look to be much more decomposed than the other body parts Agent Cooper had shown him. Rigor appeared to have set in with the hand in a strange position, the index finger extended, with the other fingers still closed for the most part. It was almost as if the victim had been gripping something.
“Anything else?” Coop prompted.
“Nothing else of note. No other particulates. No defensive wounds. Just a hand that looks like it was taken off using a hacksaw.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Doctor. We’ll go up and speak to the captain before we head out to the crime scene. We may swing back by here afterward.”
“Well, I’m not goin’ anywhere, darlin’,” drawled the examiner. As the trio began to file out, the doctor called after them, “Oh, and you’re gonna want to watch out for the captain. He doesn’t take too kindly to your kind.”
Agent Cooper whipped around. “You mean Black people?”
The M.E. chuckled, the movement shaking his large frame. “Well, I meant women, but sure, darlin’. That works too, I suppose.”
Joshua wanted to rub his hands together in anticipation. There was a showdown about to happen right in front of him. He couldn’t wait to see what was going to happen next.
CHAPTER 8
When Had first saw Captain Blake, it was like the man had stepped right out of the Dukes of Hazzard. He was short, squat and fat. It was Boss Hogg incarnate, and Had couldn’t help but look around for Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane.
As the man swaggered over to the group, it appeared he was avoiding direct eye contact with Agent Cooper. Awkward, seeing as how she was the leader of the band.
And Coop hadn’t missed it, either. She moved to plant herself right in front of the captain, extending her hand to shake his. “Captain Blake, correct? We spoke on the phone earlier.”
He continued to avoid her for a moment, until it became clear that there was no graceful way out of the situation. The handshake he offered her was as short as it could be without inciting a riot.
“Agent Cooper.” The captain’s smile was more of a grimace made by an animal, all tension and bared teeth. “Didn’t you get the directions I sent you by email? They should’ve been simple enough to follow.”
“Oh, I got the email, Captain. I just wanted to stop by to introduce myself and perhaps talk to some of the officers who were first on the scene.”
“Well, listen,” the heavyset man said with a touch of condescension. “I’d have to go look up the records to see who all was there. I think you can understand that I’ve got better things to do than to track them all down.”
Joshua stepped in at that point, his tone dry as the Sahara. “Better things than tracking down a serial killer? Charleston must be a hell hole.”
“It was my understandin’ that this was a federal case,” the captain shot back. “I ain’t got the manpower to be helping the feds putter around looking for body parts that ain’t gonna be there.”
“And it was my understanding that we were all on the same side, Captain,” Agent Cooper replied, her face blank.
“That was before you showed up and started messin’ with my people, screwin’ up our timetable, makin’ things difficult.”
“And what, exactly, made things more difficult, Captain?” Coop’s tone had sharpened, honed down to a laser point. Had found it scary… and kinda hot. It really was too bad that she didn’t seem to have any interest in math. Or Latin dance. Or animals. “Was it the fact that I’m younger than you? Or that I’m a woman? Or that I’m Black?”
“Now look here, missy, I’m not—” he started.
“You will address me as Agent Cooper,” she snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Call me ‘missy’ again, and I’ll report you for harassment.”
Much as he hated to do so, Had stepped between the two and held up his hands. “Captain, if we can do all the legwork ourselves, are you okay with us talking to your personnel? You know, as long as we aren’t bugging them.”
Captain Blake took a small pace back, sizing Had up as he did so. “Well… I can’t see how that’d be too much of a problem, son. But make sure you aren’t keeping them from what they’re supposed to be doing.”
“Absolutely, sir. We’ll stay out of everyone’s way as much as possible.”
The captain grunted, waving them off with his hand. “See that you do.”
As they walked away, Coop leaned in and whispered, “Thanks. Things could’ve gotten bad fast if you hadn’t stepped in. I shouldn’t
have lost my cool like that.”
“You kidding?” Had answered back. “The guy’s an ass. Watching you take him down would’ve been one of the greatest pleasures of my life.”
“Then what—?”
“I just figured we might have to keep working with the guy. Hate to see Humpty stay out there because of a dickwad like that.”
Agent Cooper gave him a long look. “You’re a good guy, Had. And a good cop.”
The compliment heated up Had’s ears. But what surprised him even more was the look Joshua was giving him.
He might have been crazy, but Had could’ve sworn it looked an awful lot like respect. Grudging respect, but respect just the same.
Had did what he could to keep his feet from floating off the ground.
* * *
Sariah looked out over the crime scene and sighed. A children’s playground should have children in it, playing and laughing. Not crime scene tape. And not random disembodied hands.
The local police had gone over the scene with a fine-toothed comb, looking for the rest of the body that they’d been positive must have been there. It made searching for new clues difficult. There were pictures, of course, but it was a challenge to know whether or not things had been disturbed. The investigators would have no idea what they were looking for, seeing as how they didn’t know the specific case.
“According to the crime scene photos, this is where the hand was found,” she said, pointing to an area in the sand that was marked off. “Any ideas, Joshua?”
The former agent squinted against the sun, looking for all the world like this was the last place on earth he wanted to be. Pulling out one of the bottles of alcohol from the hotel, he held it up for her to see.
“I’m just here for the free booze.”
That sounded about right. She reached down to scratch at the monitor around her ankle. Man, it itched. Maybe taking it for him had been a bad idea. Joshua watched her motion, winked, and tipped the bottle toward her like he was clinking glasses for a toast.
Had peered down into the depression in the sand where the hand had been. “Burying the hand in a playground? Guy’s sick.”
“Yeah, most serial killers are,” Joshua muttered back, moving toward the shade of the playground structure. He paused, tilting his head back to down his tiny bottle. Hell. Maybe it was time to just buy him the real stuff. Sariah could only guess what the minibar charges were going to end up being.
Joshua stopped before he got to the slides. He peered around, looking over and under the structure, his face pulled into a frown. Well, a deeper frown than he wore most of the time.
Sariah called out to him. “See something?”
“No… Yeah. Maybe.”
“Care to share?”
Joshua passed a hand across his face, pulling at the skin. “I dunno. There’s something… weird about this crime scene.”
“You mean other than the fact that it’s in a playground?” Had chimed in.
“Yeah. Well, actually, no. That’s part of it.” The former agent seemed distracted, seeing, but not quite seeing his surroundings. “Every other time, Humpty would bury the parts somewhere a little less... I dunno… traffic-y.”
Sariah thought about that for a moment. The last one, up in Ann Arbor, had been in a garden. Not private, but with much less traffic than this place. The part had been buried farther down in the ground, as well.
And every other scene was similar. A public, but unused area. A campsite down towards Stone Mountain, but one that didn’t have potable water. A trail up in the Smokies. An area off the freeway, underneath an overpass. All public, and all easy to access, but nothing along these lines.
“You’re right,” she concurred. “There is a significant difference between this site and the others. But what do you think it means?”
“No clue.” Joshua stood, his gaze distant.
“Hey, guys. Taking about weird…” Had spoke up. “Did that hand seem strange to anyone else?”
Joshua came out of his stupor. “It was a hand not attached to a body. Of course it seemed strange.”
“No, I mean…” Had seemed to be groping for words. “The way it was curled up and stuff. Like it was holding something.”
“That’s true.” Sariah thought back. Were any of the other parts off in any way? “It seems like all of the other pieces presented with normal alignment.”
“That’s just rigor,” Joshua retorted.
“Yeah, okay, but rigor sets in because the hand was in that position, right?” Had asked. “I mean, it couldn’t have frozen that way just because.”
“What would he have been holding?” Sariah asked.
Joshua had that far-away look again. “Not holding… pointing.”
“Pointing?”
“Let me see the picture of how the hand was found.” He trotted over to Sariah, reaching for her tablet. He swiped through the photos, his sun-slash-booze headache gone from all appearances.
“We can’t know if the girl turned it around after she unearthed it,” Sariah cautioned.
“It was a hand without a body,” he spoke without taking his attention away from the screen. “She’s a girl. She wouldn’t have touched it after it came to the surface.”
He peered at the tablet, turning it this way and that to orient it to the environment. Then he took off, pacing his way toward the playground structure.
“This way. Look around.”
“For what?” she asked.
“Anything weird.”
That was specific. But she looked anyway. Something had taken over Joshua. It was like he wasn’t even the same person he’d been just a few minutes ago. He bent over, searching under the slides, looking at the surface of the plastic playground.
“Guys,” Had called out from several yards off to the side. He was gazing at something there, three feet off the ground, against the side of one of the ladders leading up to the top of the structure. “You need to see this.”
Sariah moved over to his side, Joshua right behind her. Looking where Had was pointing, it took a moment for her to see it. There were scratches dug into the surface of the plastic. Scratches that spelled out something.
Joshua cursed and stumbled backward, sand churning up beneath his feet as he fell down. He crabbed his way farther back, doing all that he seemed to be able to do to get as far away as possible.
Turning back to the scratches, Sariah picked out what they said. And now she understood the former agent’s panicked response. When the meaning of the engraved phrase entered her consciousness, it was hard even for her to remain calm. It was a message from the killer. A message directed at a member of their team… a former BAU agent who had made it his mission to take the criminal down.
Welcome back, Joshua. It’s been a long time.
* * *
Had wasn’t sure what he should do. After Joshua’s initial reaction, he had shut down. He hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t moved. Even his blinking was slowed down to the point it almost wasn’t happening. And Had didn’t blame him. Not for a moment.
They had placed him in the shade, away from the engraved message. No need to keep that one fresh in his mind. And now, Had and Sariah were mapping out plans for the next few hours and days.
The convention had ended, so more rooms at the hotel had opened up. They’d be able to put Joshua in a room on his own, to let him recuperate. But there were other considerations… things that needed to get done. And having Joshua almost comatose was not on the agenda.
“We need to map out the places each of the body parts was found, see if there’s some kind of link,” Coop was saying.
Had nodded, thinking of the ways in which he could help. But his mind kept going back to the etchings on the surface of that play structure. How would Had react if he’d gone through the same thing? His mind drew a blank. There was no way for him to get even a small part of what must be going on in Joshua’s mind.
“Had. Had. Had.” Agent Cooper’s voice broke through his rever
ie.
“Sorry. I just—”
“I get it. I feel bad for him, too. But we’ve got to figure out how to handle things without him for the next little while. Anybody’s guess how long he’ll stay like that.”
“Like what?” came a voice from behind them. It was Joshua.
“Joshua, hey… how are you?” Had asked.
“What, that?” Joshua shrugged, pointing back at the message. “It’ll take more than that to keep me from free liquor. Speaking of which… let’s get back to the hotel.”
“Um… all right…” Agent Cooper responded, nonplussed.
“Look, bitching and crying about it isn’t going to help any. Let’s just… get out of here, okay?”
“Okay,” Coop agreed. She seemed almost as troubled by Joshua’s quick recovery as she had been about his reaction. Had felt the same. There was something too glib… too easy… about the way he was brushing off the experience now.
But, regardless, maybe there was something here they could use. “The fact that the killer knew you were back on the job should mean something, right?”
Sariah was nodding, but Joshua cut off the line of reasoning with a slash of his hand. “All it says is that the killer knew I’d be called in on this. And anyone who knew the history of the case could have figured that out.”
Had could see where that might be true, but it still bothered him. Something about this spoke of a more intimate connection. But without any additional clues, it was a moot point. Information. They just needed more information.
He would just have to see what he could do about that.
* * *
Sariah started awake and glanced at the bedside clock. 1:43 am. What the hell had woken her up?
The answer came a moment later, when the knock on her door was repeated. It was an insistent banging, one with purpose. Not the polite knock that Had might make if he needed to talk to her, but wasn’t sure if she was awake.
Joshua.
Grabbing a robe to throw on over her t-shirt and boxers, she moved toward the door. Looking through the peephole, Sariah was surprised to see the figure of a policeman standing there. Was this part of the harassment from earlier, coming back to haunt her in the wee hours of the morning?
Humpty Dumpty: The killer wants us to put him back together again (Book 1 of the Nursery Rhyme Murders Series) Page 10