“I am so excited about this.”
Joshua thrust out a hand and stopped Had in his tracks. “Listen. You need to know something. There’s nothing exciting about any of this.”
“I—” Had started. Joshua cut him off.
“You’re about to step into your worst nightmare, and no one’s going to be able to help you get out of it.” He pointed at himself and then at Coop. “Not me, not her, not anyone. Got it?”
Had looked into Joshua’s bloodshot eyes. Those eyes had seen a lot, more than Had’s by a long ways. Underneath all of Joshua’s sarcasm and bite, there was a lot of pain. Had wasn’t unfamiliar with hurt, but here was someone who had taken up residence with that damage and held it to himself as a life-partner.
“Yeah, I got it,” he answered. Joshua turned back around and started walking. Had spoke at his retreating back. “I’m still excited, though. I’m going to be working with you.”
The only acknowledgment from Joshua was a slight tensing of his shoulder muscles. But Had knew that Joshua had heard him.
He had a feeling that the two of them were going to be great friends.
* * *
Sariah was surprised, but at least it was a pleasant experience for once.
Turned out that Had’s friend Bilal surpassed his description. In the forty-five minute ride out to D.C., the Pakistani driver had regaled them with tales from his fifteen years of taxicab service, given them three recommendations for lunch… one cheap, one middle-of-the-road, one expensive… and had almost made Joshua smile. Twice.
“So, we are to be thinking cheap for eating, yes, my friends?” The man’s smile lit up the length of the rear view mirror.
“Hey, I’m not paying for it. I say expensive,” Joshua grumbled from the other side of the seat, where he was pressed up against the passenger side window. “Plus, I’d love to see how the political elite react to the presence of the unwashed homeless in their midst.”
Sariah smiled in spite of herself. No matter what the former agent wanted everyone to believe, she was confident he was just as uncomfortable in his unshowered and tattered condition as anyone else he would meet today.
“We don’t have time for a serious sit-down meal,” Sariah called out. “Not if we’re going to get you some new threads.”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing, you elitist pig?” Joshua shot back.
“Had, what do you think?” she asked.
Had thought about it for a second before responding. “I want to go where Bilal goes to eat when he’s grabbing lunch.”
“Ah. That is being a definite treating,” Bilal called back over his shoulder. “I am taking for you to my favorite place.”
“Can’t wait,” grumbled Joshua. “Curried dog and naan.”
“Oh no, my friend.” The driver waved his hands back and forth with energy. “There is not the eating of dogs here. It is forbidden by Allah.”
“Whatever.” He looked out of the window. It seemed clear he was done with the conversation.
“This you will be enjoying,” Bilal assured them.
Sariah watched as Joshua retreated back into his sullen shell. This seemed to be his go-to state. Well that, or pissing everyone around him off. There didn’t seem to be much in between.
Had, on the other hand, seemed to be the former agent’s polar opposite. Right now he was busy chatting with Bilal, happy as a clam.
“And the real reason there’s no J Street is because they hadn’t really locked down the alphabet yet. They thought J was just a poor man’s I or something.”
“I am hearing the man from France, he was not liking a person with the name of J,” Bilal countered.
“Naw. That’s just a conspiracy theory.”
The cab driver grinned. “You are teaching much for someone not ‘big city’.”
Had blushed a bright red. Sariah turned her head to hide her smile, pretending not to have noticed.
They traveled along 18th Street, passing structures made of red brick on both sides. Their driver pulled up alongside the curb in front of what looked like a painting of a huge clown face.
“Amsterdam Falafel shop. It is not to be the only place Bilal is eating, but it is to be a good one.” He gestured to the restaurant right next to the creepy clown grimace. There were two Amsterdam flags flying on either side of a window that opened into the restaurant itself. There were several tables outside in a fenced off courtyard in front.
The trio passed by a banner that proclaimed “FALAFEL AND FRIES” and then walked up the brick stairs to the restaurant above. Joshua began grousing the moment he left the cab and didn’t stop until they stepped through the door.
The inside of the shop was cramped. The walls painted red and pink and off white, with some exposed brick toward the back where the register was. A red counter cut the wall opposite the entrance in half, with stools underneath upon which the crowd of people who had already shown up for the lunch rush at 11:30 were perched. Above the counter was a large collage of pictures, centered around the striking figure of a topless woman. Several black tables were shoved into the narrow room, further constricting the space. It was loud and hot and smelled fantastic.
Dutch and Middle Eastern cuisines were not two that Sariah would have put together, but the size of the crowd and the fragrances drifting through the air were not far from convincing her otherwise. The fare turned out to consist of two essential items: falafel sandwiches and Belgian-style fries. There were no plates or utensils, but there was a toppings bar that sported amongst its offerings red cabbage, hummus and a peanut sauce. They purchased their food, layered on the toppings and sauces and made their way to an empty corner of the counter.
“This is awesome,” Had gushed, speaking around a mouthful of fries. He was grinning from ear to ear, and couldn’t stop looking around at the other people in the small dining area, almost as if he were a tourist and they were historical monuments. Maybe to Had, that’s how it seemed.
“I hate falafel,” Joshua grumbled.
Sariah looked down at the former agent’s sandwich. “Then why is your sandwich already half-eaten?” she demanded.
“What? I’m hungry. I’ll eat dog if I’m hungry enough, no matter what I said earlier.”
“You know, I think that’s the first food I’ve seen you eat. I was beginning to think you lived on alcohol.”
Joshua took another bite of his falafel sandwich. “I do. This place doesn’t serve any. One more piece of evidence of their suckitude.”
That sounded about par for the course when it came to the former agent. She took a bite of her sandwich. It lived up to the review from their cab driver. Some of the best falafel she’d eaten. Glancing over at Had, Sariah saw that he had somehow managed to fall asleep in his Dutch mayonnaise. She prodded him with her elbow.
“Had. Wake up.”
“Huh?” The officer started awake, wiping sauce off of his cheek, which served to spread the condiment over a larger surface area. “Did I fall asleep? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I didn’t realize you were so wiped out or I would’ve taken you right to your hotel room.”
“We have hotel rooms? But we’re not going to be here tonight.”
Sariah shrugged. “It was on Agent Tanner’s orders. He wanted to make sure Joshua had somewhere to tidy up.”
“I told you, that’s a deal breaker,” the former agent piped up from her other side.
“You’re not fooling anybody,” Sariah fired back. There was no answer, so she was sure she’d hit pay dirt. She returned her attention to Had. “Anyway, I can drop you off there while Joshua and I go out shopping for some clothes.”
Was it her imagination, or did Had seem disappointed, almost jealous? Then his face got a faraway expression on it for a moment.
“Did any of the body parts have fibers on them?” he asked.
“What?” Sariah took a moment to switch mental gears. “Oh, you mean for the case? Yes, two of them did. Cotton. Appeared to be from
the clothes.”
“Did anyone do an analysis of the dye? We might be able to find something out from what they were wearing.”
Sariah was impressed. It was doubtful that would lead to anything concrete, but it was an excellent line of reasoning. Once more, she was grateful she had included Had on the team.
“Great idea. I’ll check on it later. But for now, you need to get some sleep.”
“Yeah. I didn’t get any last night. Too excited.”
She smiled at Had’s enthusiasm, and he grinned back. Joshua might be burned out, sarcastic and jaded, but Hadderly was a breath of fresh air. Sariah had a feeling that they would need that, as they got further into this case.
Grabbing the leftovers of her sandwich, Sariah led the group out of the restaurant. Bilal was there for them with his cab, waiting with breath held for their response to his recommendation. Stepping in before Joshua could say anything, she answered for the whole group.
“It was amazing, Bilal. Thanks.”
“I am happy to be taking you here. And where do we now for going?”
“Our hotel.” She gave him the address and sat back, basking in the air conditioning of the taxicab. She would enjoy it every moment she could. They were headed to South Carolina, even hotter than here. It was shaping up to be a brutal summer.
Was she sick for thinking that at least it would be easier to find the body parts in the endless heat? They would rot, and the smell would lead people to them much faster.
Sometimes the realities of chasing a serial killer made her nauseated.
* * *
The shower was incredible.
Whatever he had pretended back in Tanner’s office, Joshua had nothing against being clean. He didn’t have much access to facilities, so he’d learned to live without. But the act of jumping into the shower before heading out to buy some new clothes was the closest thing to ecstasy he could remember.
And that pissed him off.
This was not suffering. This was not honoring his beloved dead. He was enjoying himself. Eating some of the best falafel he’d ever had. Taking cab rides. Showering in a nice hotel room. Buying new clothes on someone else’s dime. Joshua was more content than he could remember being since his family was torn away from him.
He turned the water to cold, allowing the needles of freezing water to pelt into his skin. It was a cat-o-nine-tails, and Joshua would keep beating himself with it until the pain diminished. The dirt and sweat of the last week circled the drain at his feet, sucked down to the sewers where they belonged. The corrosion of his soul was going nowhere. It would stay right where it was.
That seemed more than appropriate to him.
Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed the floor mat and used that to dry himself off. It was rougher than the towels that had been provided, and he scraped his skin with vigor, turning it red with the friction. That would serve as the shirt of hair.
The thought of putting back on his torn and bloody clothes was repugnant. Therefore, he forced himself to do it. He dragged the shirt on over his head, wincing in pain as the action tugged at his bruised ribs and the fabric caught on his wound.
This was more like it.
Passing by the minibar, Joshua pulled out two bottles of alcohol and downed them without looking to see what they were. Captain Morgan and another Smirnoff. Perfect.
When he stepped out into the hall, Coop was waiting for him.
“Ready?”
Joshua gave a bark of bitter laughter. “Are you kidding?”
Agent Cooper shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, I’m just glad you took a shower.”
The first clothing store she tried to take him to, escorted by the annoying Pakistani driver, Joshua rejected out of hand. It was trendy and expensive and he refused to even set foot in the establishment.
Next was a mall. They left after Joshua called the attendant at Hollister “drag queen bait” and security was called.
They were now at a Gap outlet, and while he was still annoyed, Joshua was at least finding some t-shirts and jeans. Coop was off to the side, her mouth set in a hard line and her foot tapping. Joshua was doing a great job as far as he could tell.
“You know that we’re going to be interacting with the public, right?” she asked.
“Whatever.”
“No, not whatever,” Agent Cooper snapped back. She took a deep breath and held it for a second before continuing. “We have to look like law enforcement.”
“I’m undercover.”
She got out her phone and looked at the time, then back at Joshua. “I’m the one with the card, so I’m not sure why you think you have any say in this.” She set her phone down on top of a display for a moment while she looked at a button down shirt.
The phone buzzed, vibrating on the hard surface. It moved toward the edge, almost falling to the ground before Joshua scooped it up and answered.
“Agent Cooper’s phone,” he spoke into the receiver, as Coop moved toward him, hand outstretched to take the cell away from him.
“Ah… Joshua?” It was Agent Tanner. “Where’s Agent Cooper?”
“She’s around here somewhere. Didn’t you want to ask if I managed to take a shower? I was going to, but when I was taking off my underwear I found this green spot of rot between my legs…” Before Agent Cooper managed to snatch the phone away from him, Joshua was sure he heard the sound of retching from the other end of the line. Man, that agent really didn’t like talking about personal hygiene. Felt like Joshua had uncovered the super agent’s kryptonite.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Coop spoke into the phone, glaring at Joshua. “What did you need?” There was a pause, then, “Yes, sir. Will do.” She ended the call.
“What was that about? Checking up on my blood-alcohol level? It’s point-two-oh, by the way. Oh, and how’s that monitor treating you?” He pointed down at her ankle.
Agent Cooper peered at him, maybe looking for a scrap of decency. Boy, was she going to be disappointed. Whatever she seemed to find didn’t keep her from answering.
“There was another body part found. A leg this time. Out in Virginia.”
“We headed there first?”
“No,” she responded. “We’ll fly there from South Carolina, then rent a car and drive back to Quantico.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’ve already lost interest.” He picked up another t-shirt.
Grabbing the shirt out of his hands, Coop stalked over to the nearest rack of dress shirts and pulled out three of them. She handed them to him.
“You try on these. I’ll bring you slacks.”
“I’m not going—”
She cut him off with a flourish. “Try them on, or I clear out the rest of the alcohol from your minibar.”
Joshua thought for a moment, then took the shirts and headed toward the back. Whatever else she might or might not be doing, Agent Cooper was not playing fair.
He had also never had more respect for her than he did right now.
* * *
When Sariah got Joshua back to the hotel, several sets of clothing heavier, the first thing she saw when she entered into the foyer was Had, chatting with the concierge. From what she could tell, he’d never made it up to his room.
“Had, you were supposed to be sleeping,” she chided the cop.
“I know. I’m sorry.” He motioned to the man behind the desk. “But Robert’s from South Africa. South Africa! He’s got the coolest accent I’ve ever heard.”
“That’s great, but I need you on your A game when we get to South Carolina.”
“It’s okay. I’ll just sleep on the plane.”
Sariah sighed. “The flight’s only an hour and a half.”
“That’s more than enough,” Had assured her. He waved to his new friend at the desk and followed Sariah out to the rooms. “There are not as many lions in South Africa as I would’ve thought, but they have them in parks and stuff. They do have leopards, though. Oh, and not any elephants outside of sanctuaries, either. Weird, right?�
��
“Yes. Weird.”
Had continued to talk about the various species of South African animals all through the cab ride out to the airport, during which Bilal gave them a card for his cousin who drove a cab in Charleston. The young cop didn’t stop as they went through the line at security and he was still going without a pause while they hit the gift shop to pick up some snacks for the flight.
And it didn’t stop there.
“They do have monkeys, but only one main species,” he stated with emphasis as they walked toward their gate.
“Shut up,” Joshua muttered, holding his head.
Had turned back to Sariah. “And you’d think they were everywhere, but it’s only in certain parts of the country.”
“Shut. Up.” Joshua’s voice was a little stronger this time.
“And there are like no gazelles down there. Don’t you think that’s freaky?”
A form flew past Sariah, ramming into Had, pushing the cop up against the nearest wall. A fist flew into Had’s face, whipping his head around with a snap.
It was Joshua.
“I said shut up. What part of that did you not understand?”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Sariah grappled with Joshua, pulling him away from the battered young man. Joshua pulled out of her grasp, stalking away from both of them. She moved closer to Had, who was touching his face, testing out the red mark that Joshua’s fist had left. “You okay, Had?”
He winced as one of his pokes seemed to find a sore spot. “Yeah,” he muttered, his tone sheepish.
“Do you want to press charges?” Sariah pitched her voice loud enough so that Joshua could hear it.
“What? No.” Had laughed at her question. “That was just brother kinda stuff. He asked me to be quiet; I wouldn’t shut my trap.” He got a wistful look on his face. “I think we’re really starting to get close.”
Sariah just shook her head. They moved off toward their gate, and there were no further incidents of violence before they were called to board the plane.
Moving through the cabin of the airplane, Joshua went straight to his seat, put some plugs Sariah had purchased for him at the airport into his ears and turned toward the window, shutting out the rest of the world. Had, on the other hand, began greeting everyone that passed, apologizing for his carryon bag and making cooing noises at the babies. Sariah was sure she had never seen a greater disparity between personality types in her life.
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