“I could go for some lunch,” Lobo stated. “Any Mexican restaurants in town?”
“There’s only one place that I could find.”
Agent Lobo stared up and down the street for a moment. “On second thought, this place is way too gringo for me to trust them to have cabeza or lengua.”
Had nodded sagely. “It did say that the food was Mexican-American.”
Lobo shuddered in response. “Ruby’s sounds great.”
The two continued chatting in an animated fashion as they went through check-in. Having the pleasant conversation in the background did a lot to soothe the edges of Sariah’s raw nerves.
But before long, they were headed up to their separate rooms, and the sound of Had and Lobo’s voices dimmed to inaudibility. Sariah swiped her key card to enter her room, the décor that of a decade or two ago.
Home sweet home.
* * *
Reggie shifted her leg again. Bella was a great dog, and Reggie loved her to death, but right now she could do without the tingling that had spread all the way down her left limb. At what point did her need to be able to walk at some future point outweigh the dog’s dislike of Salazar?
Of course, that question wasn’t all that fair. Reggie could always move into the back seat of the car. Nothing stopping her.
Nothing but her growing distaste for the unpleasant agent.
It was shocking to her that Salazar had made his way so well in the BAU. From everything she had observed of the man, he was unpleasant and borderline unprofessional in his behavior.
She turned her head to peek at the BAU agent. He was wearing earbuds that trailed down to his MP3 player and he appeared to be asleep.
“Salazar,” she said, using her full voice. The agent didn’t stir. Reggie could feel her body relax. Having the man in the backseat was like knowing there was a bee in your room that you couldn’t do anything about.
No, more like a snake.
Joshua glanced over at her. “You can’t be comfortable.” It was the fourth or fifth time he’d referred to her seating arrangement.
“Ya think?” she snipped back, then softened. “Sorry. Traveling makes me cranky.”
“Traveling with Salazar makes you cranky,” he corrected. “And it’s not just you.”
“How does he even get by in the Agency?” Reggie glanced back around to make sure Salazar was really asleep.
Joshua thought for a moment before replying. “He’s a good agent.”
“What?” Reggie thought for a moment that she might have misheard.
He shrugged. “It’s true. He’s not brilliant, but he’s solid. Closes cases. Good in the interrogation room. At least, he is according to Coop, and I trust her judgment.”
“Do you?”
Angling his head to be able to watch the road and her at the same time, Joshua raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, his tone sharper than it had been a moment ago.
“That conversation back at the gas station,” Reggie pressed him. “What was that all about?”
He grimaced. “Oh, that.”
“Yeah. You asked for her opinion, then basically shut her down.”
Licking his lips, Joshua seemed to be searching for a way to answer her question. For a man who spent most of his time being direct to the point of bluntness, it was unusual to see him struggle to find words.
“I… There’s…” He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure I can explain it.”
“Try.”
He searched her face for a brief moment before turning his attention back to the road. They were coming up on Pottsville. The last sign had said there were ten miles left, and that had been about five minutes ago.
Joshua finally came back with a response. “When it comes to Humpty, I have a sort of… I don’t know… sixth sense about things sometimes.”
That made sense to Reggie. He’d been tracking the killer for a couple of decades now. It wasn’t surprising to her that he might feel like he had some sort of inside track when it came to the workings of the man’s brain.
But there was something about it that worried her.
“What about the last case?” she asked. “You thought you were tracking Humpty the whole time, just to have it be someone else.”
His mouth tightened down into a thin line. “That’s just the point. I never thought it felt like Humpty and I said so, many times. Besides,” he continued, “it had been so long. I thought it was possible he’d adapted.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m pretty sure the bastard hasn’t changed a bit.”
Reggie mulled that over. “What about the bombings?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been asking myself this whole time.” Joshua’s hands were white on the steering wheel where he seemed to be gripping with a lot more force than was needed. “And I’m pretty sure it’s what I said before. He’s working with someone else.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Reggie muttered. “How is the guy finding his partners? It’s like he’s running some kind of serial killer school or something.”
“More like Sith training.”
“What?” Reggie knew Star Wars, of course, but the reference didn’t seem to make any sense.
“The dark lords only have one apprentice at a time.” He wrung his fists over the steering wheel, causing the material to squeak under his hands.
“So, more like a protégé situation?”
“Exactly.”
That made sense to her. Too many acolytes and things could get tricky real fast, she supposed.
“And you’re pretty sure that’s what’s going on here?” she asked.
He nodded. “It’s a safe bet that there’s a mole, right?”
“I can’t imagine how Humpty would’ve planted those bombs otherwise,” Reggie answered.
“Well, I’ve gone over the FBI’s personnel files. The agents that have been around since before Humpty don’t match anything close to what I think you might find for a serial killer mole. There would be something there, right?”
“You’d think.” A thought reemerged, and Reggie glanced into the back seat again. “What about Salazar?” she asked.
Joshua gave her a smirk. “You think he wasn’t one of the first ones I checked on?” His smile retreated. “He’s not nearly old enough. Doesn’t mean I trust him, though. I could see him being the mole.”
“I dunno,” Reggie shot back. “I see him more in the reptile category.”
The former agent chuckled at that. “You may have a point.”
They sat in silence for a moment before Reggie spoke again. It might not need to be said, but she wanted to make sure she did.
“You need to listen to Coop, you know?”
Instead of getting defensive, like she half expected him to, Joshua just nodded.
“I know. I do.” His tone was troubled, almost haunted.
She found that she believed him.
CHAPTER 12
Joshua walked out of his hotel room with a seventy-five pound weight tugging at the leash. When Bella wanted to go for a walk, there wasn’t much negotiating with her.
As they went down the hallway, a hotel staff member took one look at Bella and her mouth tightened into a pruned-up little oval. Joshua braced himself. He’d already gone through the rigmarole at the front desk; he didn’t want to have to repeat it here.
But before the woman could get a word out, a voice came from behind Joshua.
“She’s a service dog.”
Joshua knew the voice but was still surprised when he turned around and found Salazar there. If there were a person he’d vote least likely to back him up in an altercation with part of the janitorial staff of a hotel, it would be this guy.
“Doesn’t look handicapped to me,” the woman muttered as she passed, keeping as far away from Bella as she could.
“I know. Think it’s mental,” Salazar answered. “But look at the vest.” He pointed at the Boxador.
�
��Whatever you say,” she said over her shoulder as she waved an arm, her triceps flapping in a loose fashion. “I just better not find a ‘present’ from that beast when I’m cleaning the room.”
Beast? Joshua looked at Bella. How could anyone think of this sweet dog as any kind of a beast?
But his attention was drawn back to Salazar as the Latino agent fell into step with him. The man was wearing sneakers, shorts and a t-shirt.
“You going down to the gym to work out?” Joshua asked, trying to make some kind of sense out of what was happening right now.
“You kidding? Their idea of a gym is a treadmill and a couple of medicine balls. Thought I’d go for a jog.”
“Ah.”
Well, this was awkward. They were headed to the same place. But at least once they were on the street Salazar would start running. Joshua was opposed to running for any reason other than mortal danger or to catch an unsub. On moral grounds. It wasn’t moral to feel as shitty as exercise made him feel.
And if, by some crazy happenstance, Salazar was way too slow and going in the same direction, Joshua could just fake an excuse and head off in the other direction. Problem solved.
Except for the fact that they were traveling down to the lobby together. Salazar pushed the button to call the elevator. For a brief moment, Joshua considered coming up with a reason to take the stairs. But before he could come up with anything that didn’t sound insane, Salazar opened his mouth.
“Hey, I’m sorry.”
Well, Salazar’s mouth was now closed after he said his three words, but Joshua’s was now hanging open. Had he heard right?
“What did you say?”
Salazar grimaced. “I said I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like an asshole.”
This was unexpected. Enough so that Joshua wasn’t sure how to respond. So, instead he just kept gaping like some tourist looking at the fish in a huge aquarium at SeaWorld or something.
Brilliant.
After a second or two of silence, Salazar grunted and looked at the lights on top of the elevator shaft that indicated where the car was at the moment. He muttered something under his breath about having given it a shot.
Joshua shook himself. “Hey. No. You just surprised me.”
Salazar whirled around, his face transformed into a mask of anger. Growling, he got into Joshua’s face. Joshua shifted back a pace, surprised.
“You think I like this?”
Joshua held up his hand. “Whoa, there.”
“Sorry. I’m…” The agent bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Look, I didn’t want this assignment. I considered quitting over it.”
“Why?” Joshua asked, the question slipping out of his mouth before he could think better of it. What the hell… it was out there. Might as well follow it up. “I mean, what’s your problem with Coop? It’s been there since before the day I met you.”
That question seemed to have been what Salazar had been waiting for. He glanced around the hallway, as if he was making sure they were alone. When he spoke, his voice was lowered, and he had drawn in close to Joshua.
“You have no idea what it was like when Agent Cooper first came in.”
Thinking back to his initial encounter with Coop, Joshua almost stopped the agent so he could disagree. He did have an idea of what Salazar was saying.
It seemed that Salazar could sense that Joshua was listening with sympathetic ears, as he continued, “She had no respect for the way we worked, for our experience level. She just started criticizing everything we were doing.”
That didn’t sound too far off the mark, and Joshua began to wonder how he’d feel about the agent in front of him if it’d been Salazar, and not Cooper, who’d rescued him from his pit of despair out in the alleyway of the bar in Manhattan.
Salazar reminded Joshua of some of the agents he’d worked with before he’d gone facedown after the death of his family. Bright, but not brilliant. Hard worker. A little sexist. The kind of person who’d make a good drinking buddy.
Joshua shut down that line of thinking, his throat itching.
One way or the other, there were two sides to this story, and Joshua, for all he thought of himself as being fair-minded, hadn’t ever given Salazar the benefit of the doubt. He’d tolerated the guy, but more as a handling strategy.
“I get it,” Joshua answered after a long moment. “I remember what it was like.”
“See, you do get it,” he said. “I thought you might, if I could ever just talk to you one on one, man-to-man. It’s just not the same when someone like her comes in and starts rattling everyone’s chain. Talking down to us.”
“I get that, too.” Salazar’s statements mirrored Joshua’s experiences. Coop was smart, almost too smart for her own good at times. And she wasn’t afraid to let other people know it.
“It’s like, what do you have against me for having a pair of cojones, you know? I can’t help that I’m a man. Or that she’s some carpet muncher.”
Well, that was a new one. New in the sense that Joshua hadn’t heard anyone say it about Coop before. Certainly not original. Smart, capable, independent woman who wasn’t interested in dating the men around her? Oh, must be a lesbian. As if that were some kind of insult to her femininity and not some desperate salve to his own wounded male pride. All of the sudden, Joshua was a whole lot less interested in the conversation.
“Uh huh,” he said, turning away a bit.
But Salazar seemed to think his indifference was assent. He continued.
“It’s like the woman sees men like us and has to turn into a raving bitch to compete. Get what I’m saying?”
And just like that, Joshua was done. Coop wasn’t always his favorite person, that was true, but her strength and intelligence didn’t make her a bitch. They made her a good agent. In fact, it was those qualities Joshua had been fighting to get back in her ever since that last case with Humpty’s acolyte.
“You know, on second thought, I think Bella and I are going to take the stairs.” Joshua looked down at Salazar’s exercise gear. “You know. Burn some calories on the way down.”
The agent must have seen the change in Joshua’s face. Backing away, he shook his head.
“I was trying to reach out to you, man. Remember that.”
Oh, he would. And he’d remember so much more about this conversation that Salazar would probably prefer he forget. Joshua wasn’t much for making official reports, but this one might merit a rethinking of his modus operandi. Tanner should know what Salazar was thinking and saying about other agents. Especially those of the talented, smart and female persuasion.
The poor BAU agent might find himself a lot less in demand when they got back.
* * *
Had looked down at his mostly-eaten sandwich and sighed. This had been one of the better culinary experiences of his life.
The food on the menu was simple, but sounded good enough. The staff was pleasant. Could easily have been just your run-of-the-mill greasy spoon.
And then their food came out.
The Reuben sandwich Had ordered had been the best one he could remember. He was sad to be coming to the end of it.
Agent Lobo stared at him as he ate another bite. “I just don’t get it. Rye bread, corned beef, sauerkraut, Swiss cheese and Russian dressing? That sounds disgusting.”
Had grinned at her around the mouthful of sandwich he was consuming. “You’d think so,” he said after swallowing. “But put them together and it’s magic.”
“Well, it can’t be as good as mine.” Lobo had ordered some kind of grilled cheese, and offered him a bite. “Try it.”
“Oh, no,” Had said, holding up his hand. It was maybe weird to think this way, but he didn’t want to be disloyal to his Reuben.
“Right,” she said, pulling a face. “Forgot. You’re a gringo. Don’t know how to share your food.”
“Hey!” he retorted, loud enough that a couple other patrons took note. “I’m from the south. Well, my mama is, anyway. We k
now how to share.” To prove his point, he grabbed her sandwich and took a bite.
He regretted it instantly.
This sandwich was incredible. It was a Portobello mushroom and smoked Gouda grilled cheese concoction. The smoky gooeyness of the cheese combined with the meaty earthiness of the mushrooms to create a taste and texture like nothing he’d ever experienced before.
Lobo chuckled at the expression on his face. “Good, isn’t it?”
Had could only nod.
“Want to finish it?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
“Really?”
She shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I’m full anyway.”
Trying his best not to gobble the food, Had finished off his Reuben and the rest of Lobo’s grilled cheese. Grilled cheese. That didn’t even come close to describing what he was eating. It was close to blasphemy to refer to something so magnificent with such a meaningless moniker.
As he finished up, Had felt his phone buzz. A text from Nadira.
Got an interesting fare. Call me so I can tell you about it.
Had suppressed a groan. More work stuff. Every time he reached out to her, hoping for some kind of connection between them, he got back information on the shortest route from the airport to some location. And while the intel was usually good, it just served to point out that Nadira wasn’t nearly as interested in him as he was in her.
“What’s up?” Lobo asked.
Jamming his phone back in his pocket, Had blushed. “Nothing.”
“It’s a girl, huh?”
“No,” he responded, too quickly, and Lobo laughed. “Okay, maybe.”
“That wasn’t a good face you just made,” she observed.
“No. Nope. Not so much.”
She waved her hand in a come-here motion. “Spill.”
Had sighed. “What does it mean when the girl you like keeps texting you, but just about her work?”
Agent Lobo grinned. “It means she’s texting you, idiota. Girls don’t usually text guys they don’t like unless they need something from them.”
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