“Um. I…” Sariah began.
“Wow. Sorry. So sorry.” Lobo wrung her hands in her lap. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“No. It’s okay,” she assured the woman. And was surprised to discover that it was true. It felt naked… exposed… to have someone see her so well, but Sariah also found it to be oddly comforting. Lobo could see her for who she was, at least a little bit. And so far, the agent hadn’t run away. Instead, she’d requested to be on Sariah’s team. “How did you know?”
Agent Lobo shrugged. “I have an alcoholic parent, too. My father,” she confessed.
“Yeah.” Sariah sat for a moment, assessing. That couldn’t have been an easy thing for Lobo to share. Time to risk. “I would help him clean up after he went on a bender. Hide it from Mom.”
Lobo nodded. “Sounds familiar.”
“Didn’t seem like anything I did was ever good enough,” Sariah continued, the words forcing themselves out. “If I was helping Dad out, Mom was pissed. And if I ratted him out to Mom, Dad would fly into a rage.”
“There’s no winning when it comes to a drunk,” Lobo said, grimacing. “My father was basically just not present. So I grew up trying to please men, terrified they’d leave. You know? Not so healthy.”
“Seems like you’ve managed to deal with it, though,” Sariah commented.
The green agent shrugged. “I’ve found some coping mechanisms, I guess.” She grinned. “I find I’m a little jealous of the time you had with your dad. Guessing you don’t feel like that was such a good thing.”
Sariah took that in for a second. “Never thought about it. I mean, you’re right. At least I had a father who was around. But…” She took a deep breath. “He could get pretty nasty at times.”
“I bet.” She gave a short, grim burst of laughter. “Which is worse? There and screwed up, or gone and screwed up?”
“We’re just screwed either way, I guess.”
Had pulled out his ear buds and reached a hand over the seat. “Twizzlers?” he asked, holding out several straws of the red candy.
Lobo made a face. “I’m a Red Vines girl.”
“Oh, I’ve got those, too,” Had said, grinning. He rustled around in the front seat before handing some of the darker-colored rods to a pleased Lobo. “People are either Twizzler or Red Vines fans. I’ve never seen people like both.”
“What about those that hate both?” Sariah asked. She’d never cared for any kind of licorice.
“Right,” Had said, nodding. “They like jerky.” He held some dark strips of the stuff out for her.
Strangely enough, he was right. Jerky sounded like just the thing. She bit into the hard, leathery dried meat, ripping at it with her teeth. It gave off a satisfying burst of salt, pepper and smoke as it tore in her mouth. Perfect.
Catching sight of Agent Lobo out of the corner of her eye, Sariah saw her smile to herself. It seemed to Sariah to be a wistful kind of smile, the kind similar to the one you might give the person you like who you were pretty sure didn’t like you back.
She probably felt like she wasn’t a part of the team yet, that she didn’t have the rapport that Had and Sariah had developed. Seeing that response forced Sariah to recognize how close she was with not just Had, but Joshua and Reggie as well. She was lucky to have a team like this.
And the last week or so, she’d been treating them in a fashion that she was not proud of. Whether or not she ended up really taking charge, there was no excuse for her to treat her family this way. She managed to snag Had’s eye in the mirror and gave him a smile. He grinned back at her, raising his eyebrows toward Lobo.
He was right. Lobo could make a great addition to their team. Sariah settled in, ready to take a nap until they got to their destination. She trusted her companions enough to do so.
It was nice.
* * *
It wasn’t often that Joshua wished he was still part of the FBI. Being employed by the Bureau while still on the outside of the organization allowed him the kind of freedom and flexibility that he hadn’t had in years.
But right now, he really wanted a gun.
It wasn’t like Salazar had said much. He was in the back seat, doing something or other… playing with himself for all Joshua knew. But the few words that had come out of his mouth had done nothing but solidify Joshua’s opinion of him.
The guy was a good agent. He wouldn’t be where he was if that weren’t the case. He was great in the interrogation room, according to Coop, and Had’s statements had done nothing but back that up. He closed cases. He knew how to work the system to make things happen.
And he was a complete and utter tool.
As Joshua pulled off the exit ramp, heading toward a gas station, Salazar poked his head back up. “What the hell? We stopping again? You must have a bladder the size of a little girl’s.”
Reggie stiffened in her seat, nearly displacing Bella from her perch on the young cop’s lap. Bella really didn’t fit up here, but apparently she didn’t like Salazar any better than the rest of them. They’d started out with her in the back seat, but after all the whining and whimpering… mostly from Salazar… they’d brought her up front.
Kicking out the leg that had been underneath the seventy-five pound dog for the last hour-and-a-half, Reggie gave Joshua a look. It seemed to say, if you had anything to do with the seating arrangement, I’ll put a hit out on your life.
He wouldn’t blame her, either.
After giving himself a moment to reign in his irritation, Joshua answered. “We need gas.”
“We’re still half full,” the agent protested, pointing at the gauge. “And the other car’s like twenty miles ahead of us by now.”
“Bella needs to get out,” Joshua added, admitting to the real reason for the stop with some reluctance.
“Fine. Whatever,” Salazar drawled. “Oh, and would you get her some kind of deodorant spray while you’re at it.” He paused for a second. “Hey. Explain to me how it is that you guys have a canine unit on your team. I always understood there was lots of paperwork and stuff.”
Maybe there was, but if so, Joshua hadn’t ever done any. It could have been Coop. It was something she might do. Decide that the dog was helping out, so go through and make sure it was all legal and approved.
If it had been up to Joshua to take care of any paperwork at that point, the dog would’ve been booted off the team. That was something to keep in mind the next time he was wanting to scream with frustration at something Coop had done. Or more to the point, something she hadn’t done.
At least the whole figurehead plan seemed to be working. Not only had it backed Salazar off several times, it appeared that Coop was stepping up and doing her job. The fact that it was all coming from him right now didn’t have to be part of the conversation.
The convenience store, called Fas Mart for some odd reason, that they stopped at was run down, but the stop was more about getting Bella out of the car for a bit than anything else. Although there were some good-looking donuts on the counter that tempted Joshua for a brief moment. Unfortunately, the smell of the place turned his stomach. It was the scent of overcooked gas station hot dogs and stale cigarette smoke. Not the most appetizing smell in the world.
More tempting still was the liquor section. He’d never been a beer guy; the hard stuff had always been his drug of choice, but right now a beer in the wet heat they were experiencing sounded like the best idea he’d ever heard. Hell, at this moment he’d settle for a wine cooler.
There was a moment of internal struggle, when the greasy man behind the counter called out to him. “Hey, you can’t have your dog in here.”
Joshua was more than used to this by now. Without answering out loud, he just pointed to Bella’s vest. The man strained to see, leaning over the old and peeling Formica counter. When it seemed he had been able to read her vest, he grunted and eased back into his normal slouching position.
The distraction had been momentary, but it’d been enough to allo
w Joshua to move past the alcohol. He snaked a hand past the door of the glass cooler to snag a bottle of water. That would have to do as far as slaking his thirst went.
That was one thing getting sober had done for him. Hydration. Joshua was pretty sure that he’d spent ten years on the verge of death from dehydration.
About the only source of liquid that had passed through his lips was from alcohol, most of that the rotgut hard stuff he’d managed to scrounge up at the bar where he’d “worked.” Clean-up duty for free drinks. Now that had been a set up for an alcoholic. It was amazing he was still alive.
Salazar was up front, buying himself a bag of pork rinds. Did anyone really still eat that shit? Everything the man did was rubbing him the wrong way.
Joshua stopped to think about that for a second. He’d managed to keep it together as far as Salazar was concerned. The moment he’d started getting really bugged by the man was about the time he’d taken control of the unit.
Was it just that Salazar was an alpha? That he would have problems with anyone who was in a position of authority over him? It was possible that, even though Coop and Joshua were keeping their arrangement under wraps, that the man was more perceptive than he looked. That he had picked up on that vibe and was pushing back against Joshua’s perceived authority.
Salazar glanced down at Bella as he exited the store with a Red Bull and his fried porcine skin. His lip curled up in a sneer.
Or maybe the guy was just a dick.
“Hey,” the convenience store clerk called out to him. “Is your name Joshua?”
Joshua spun around on his heel, the motion causing Bella to perk her head up. She could tell when something was happening that was stressing him out. Moving in to his side, Bella gave a deep whine in her throat.
“Yes, why?”
“Got something for you,” the man said, holding up a card.
For an instant, looking at the card, Joshua thought it was from the old man. That it was one of the unbirthday cards his aging father-in-law would send out on what would have been the birthdays of his wife and children.
But there wasn’t another one of those for at least three months. Joshua had the dates etched into his mind. Each one of those cards was like a small grenade that was set off in his mind every time they arrived.
The last one had come eight days ago. It had been for his eldest daughter, Emma. The only one of the three with dark hair like his. The one who had been his buddy before any of the rest had come along. The one he’d taken on a fishing trip when she was three and could barely hold the pole.
He shook his head and propelled himself into motion, arriving at the counter within seconds. The card was gripped in the clerk’s hand, and Joshua could see the man’s fingers, the cracked and dirty nails set off by the yellowed skin underneath caused by what was clearly a significant smoking habit. The sight mesmerized Joshua.
“You want this, or what?” the man said after an awkward moment.
Reggie stepped into the store, causing the bell on the door to ring with a loud burst of sound. She was coming in from having filled up the tank of the Bureau car. Glancing at Joshua, she seemed to take in the tableau in an instant.
“Everything okay, Joshua?”
He shook his head. “He said he had a card here for me.” Gesturing down at the card still gripped in the clerk’s filthy mitt, Joshua watched Reggie’s reaction. Her face drained of color and she moved in to stand by Joshua’s unoccupied side. On his other, it felt like Bella was doing the best she could to burrow into his skin.
“Where did this come from?”
The man shrugged, apparently indifferent to the distress he had caused his customers. “Dunno. Just showed up. I didn’t see it until just now. Take a look.”
He showed them the front of the envelope. It stated, in block letters, FOR JOSHUA. Then, in smaller lettering underneath, He’ll be the man with the closely buzzed hair that comes in with a service dog.
“That seems like you, right?” the clerk said after a moment, looking from Reggie to Joshua and then down to Bella. Bella gave a little growl in her throat, which was about the limits of the aggression she ever showed to anyone.
Well, everyone except Preston Longmire. Him she’d knocked into a hay baler. So maybe this clerk wasn’t so bad.
Problem was, there was a card here addressed to Joshua and he had no idea what to do about it. His instinct was to grab the damn thing and either read it instantly or burn it without opening. But there was possible evidence here.
Evidence that they could now process.
“Reggie? Phone.” He held out his hand for her cell. At the young officer’s questioning look, he turned to face her.
“Time to use the new girl.”
CHAPTER 11
Had pulled back into the gas station parking lot, a sad affair with brown grass pushing up through the asphalt that had cracked in multiple places. This was a place that served only to prey on unsuspecting travelers, trapped on the Interstate with no food and empty tanks. It had pulled Had’s car in twice now. Once for the gas, this time for the bizarre message left for Joshua.
The place was awesome.
The fact that Had loved strange places was something that his mama had tried to understand all her life. There had been one time when Had’d taken a group of friends and skipped school to take the three hour drive out to the sand dunes at Silver Lake State Park. The only reason had been his desire to see something different.
He’d gotten into so much trouble.
But his desire to see the unusual had never left him. He’d still go out of his way for any attraction that had a claim to fame. World’s largest ball of twine? Yes, please. Corn palace? You know it.
Even crappy gas stations that looked like they hadn’t been updated since the 70s. No, scratch that. 60s.
But they were here for something far stranger. Joshua had called them to come back from about fifteen or twenty miles down the freeway, and it was all for Agent Lobo.
As they crowded into the small, stale smelling shop, Agent Lobo moved to the front of the group. “What’ve you got?” she asked Joshua.
The former agent just pointed at the card that was laying on the counter. The sour-faced and stringy-haired man behind the counter gave an exasperated sigh.
“Could you hurry this up? It’s bad for business.”
Joshua gave the attendant a look that clearly said, What business? The man grimaced and went back to reading a copy of Gear that looked like it was more than ten years old. It had a cover of Jessica Biel that was barely recognizable from the creases and splotches of sun damage. At least, Had hoped it was just sun damage.
Had turned his attention back to Agent Lobo, who had taken out some latex gloves and was reaching out for the card. Joshua grabbed her hand.
“Do you think that’s safe? It could be…”
“What, anthrax?” Lobo replied. “I doubt it. Plus, I’ll be careful. I promise.” She grinned, exposing a dimple on one side of her face. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Joshua.”
The former agent’s face seemed to redden for a moment, and he then released her. The whole scenario had felt almost paternal, a response Had wasn’t used to seeing in the former agent. Joshua cleared his throat.
“Right. Sorry.”
The agent took some time scanning the envelope, then dusting for prints. Pulling out a fingerprinting kit from her purse, she motioned to Reggie.
“Would you mind taking this guy’s?” she said, aiming her chin at the guy behind the counter.
The attendant lifted his head, peering through slit lids at the kit. “You can’t take my fingerprints without no warrant,” he grumbled, jutting his chin out.
“That’s fine,” Joshua fired back. “We’ll just take you in under suspicion of murder, how does that sound?”
The man’s eyes went big and round. “What?”
Coop stepped in at that point. “We’re trying to see if the person who dropped this card off also left some prints.
But we have to exclude yours.”
He seemed to mull that over. “You’re not gonna run ‘em or nothing, right?”
“I will if you don’t start cooperating,” Joshua said, leaning in.
Coop held up a hand to the former agent, then gave the grimy man a smile. “Of course not, sir. We don’t care about you or your past. We just need your prints.”
The smile seemed to work some kind of magic, as the attendant rolled up his sleeves and thrust out his hands toward Reggie. She took them gingerly between her finger and thumb, quickly printing him with the ease of a lot of practice.
Reggie noticed the look Had was giving her and smiled. “I used to practice on my brother. I pretty much always wanted to be a cop.”
The thought made Had smile. He’d always wanted to be a cop as well.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Had pulled it out. There was a text from Nadira. Are you guys going to need a cab ride anytime soon? Maybe once you’re back from freakyville, PA?
He pushed the phone back into his pocket. The text wasn’t one he wanted anyone from the team catching sight of. Letting a possible suspect know where they were headed while they were trying to set a trap for Humpty had probably not been Had’s finest moment, and he wasn’t anxious to share it with anyone.
But what was that text about? Was Nadira just trying to drum up business?
The connection he’d felt with her was strong, but he felt his frustration with her rise with each text she sent. They all were about her latest weird passenger or the bad traffic or her wanting to know where he was and where he was going. Cab driver stuff.
He had hoped for something more than that.
It was an odd response that was percolating inside of him. He wanted to both scream and hop back in the car to drive back to see her. There had to be something wrong with him.
Stepping to the side, he tapped out a quick response. In the middle of something. Text you later. If she wanted to talk business, he could too.
He sent the reply and then immediately regretted it. Sure, there was nothing in the text that indicated that he was frustrated, but his experience was that the person on the other end could always tell. Or maybe that was just Mama.
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