Nursery Rhyme Murders Collection_3-4-2017

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Nursery Rhyme Murders Collection_3-4-2017 Page 83

by McCray, Carolyn


  The gun came out of the shattered side window, pointing down right in between Joshua’s eyes. There were two choices. Joshua could dive to the side, hoping to avoid a point-blank shot. Or, he could do something insane.

  What was a drunk good for, if not embracing the crazy?

  Joshua sprang up, striking at the gun just as it fired. The bullet ricocheted at Joshua’s feet, spinning off somewhere behind him.

  And then he had his arms inside the vehicle, his hands wrapped around the driver’s head, beating the man’s forehead against the jagged glass of the broken window. One blow, two, three, and the screams stopped. The man went limp in Joshua’s hands.

  One more blow for good measure, and Joshua sank down to the ground, his legs no longer capable of supporting him. There was hurting everywhere, his entire body throbbing in time to his pulse. He needed an ambulance. He needed painkillers.

  He needed a drink.

  CHAPTER 10

  It was a crazy idea. There was no way it should work. The only way it could was to assume that the killer was a complete an utter moron. And Humpty Dumpty had proven himself to be nothing of the sort.

  And yet, as Had opened up the app, there was a blinking dot showing Reggie’s location. He breathed out a sigh of relief, even as his chastised himself for not thinking of this sooner.

  What was more, the blinking dot was close to them.

  Behind them.

  “Turn around!” he yelled to the cab driver.

  The big hulking man just looked at him in the mirror. “You know I’m on a freeway, right?”

  Oh. Right.

  “Well, get off on the next exit.”

  “Where is she?” Coop demanded, reaching for the phone.

  Had gave it to her, watching as she peered into the screen. This was the most he’d seen her engage since they’d found out that Reggie was taken. It was like she was drinking in the information that was coming to her from the small phone.

  “How is this possible?” she murmured.

  Had knew she probably wasn’t talking to him, but he had his thoughts on the subject. “Maybe she managed to hide her cell phone.”

  Coop’s lips flattened into a straight line. “Or maybe this is a trap.”

  Had thought about that. It made a lot of sense.

  “Okay, that sounds possible,” Had conceded. “But does it make a difference?”

  Agent Cooper stared at him, asking the question with her eyes. He answered.

  “She’s out there, taken by some psychopath who wants to kill us all. And that’s best case scenario.” He shrugged. “Does it really matter whether or not it’s a trap?”

  The BAU agent’s spine straightened as she took in what he was saying. Then she shook her head once.

  “No,” she uttered. “Of course it doesn’t.” Then her eyes hardened. “But that doesn’t mean that we don’t go in as prepared as we can be.

  In that moment, Had was just happy that he was on her side.

  * * *

  Joshua spent several moments drifting in and out of a fugue state. Thoughts and images drifted in and out like waves of the ocean. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  And then one specific image materialized.

  Reggie’s face.

  He drew in a sharp breath, pushing himself up from the ground. Leslie was trotting toward him, Bella at her side. Neither appeared too badly hurt, although Leslie was a bit worse for the wear.

  Her blouse was torn at one elbow, she had a smudge of dirt across her face and there were several cuts and abrasions on her hands and face. Probably from when she jumped out of the car.

  Bella rushed forward, licking at Joshua’s face, whining in concern. Her cone of shame had fallen off somewhere along the way. The affection Bella was showing him wasn’t without a bit of discomfort, especially as she tried to jump up on his raw and bleeding legs. But Joshua bent down to get more of it, his heart swelling at the fact that she was doing all right.

  “Are you okay?” Leslie asked as she came up beside him. “You look terrible.”

  “You don’t look all that hot yourself,” he groused. It wasn’t true. Something about Leslie made the rough-and-tumble thing that much more appealing. He shook his head, not wanting to allow his thoughts to go there even for a moment.

  He was trying to find Reggie. Besides, this woman had to be the most annoying person on the planet.

  Leslie stared at him for a long moment, nodding her head. The look on her face was some emotion Joshua couldn’t identify. Surprise? Respect? Impossible to tell for sure, although it did seem to be a positive one.

  She spoke after another moment. “I can see why Agent Cooper relies on you so much.” Gesturing to the car beside them, a small grin crept onto the side of her mouth. “That was… impressive.”

  But her attention shifting to the car made Joshua think of the driver once more. There was additional information to be had here.

  “Help me open the door,” he urged her.

  Together, they were able to bend open the door, bending the hinge back with the sheer weight of their two bodies combined. Not that Leslie added much in that department. She had a willowy figure underneath all those flowing fabrics. A lithe body that still appeared to be strong enough, as she muscled open the door with him.

  The scraping of the metal against the metal was a scream of pain in the quiet Oklahoma air. At least here, the Indian Summer hadn’t extended its grip, and the temperature was cool, almost chilly.

  The door open, the unconscious form of the driver slumped out to the ground. Joshua scooped the gun from where it fell beside its owner.

  “It’s a SIG Sauer P229,” Joshua muttered.

  “Military issue,” Leslie said in response.

  Joshua glanced at her in surprise. She must have seen his reaction, as she shrugged before replying.

  “What?” she said, her tone a touch defensive. “Just because I don’t approve of handguns doesn’t mean I don’t know about them.”

  She was right, though. This man was military. Everything about him, from the way he had spoken to them right down to the way he had fought under pressure, spoke of training in the armed forces.

  Joshua looked through his pockets, finding no identification. Smart move on this man’s part, although it would have been awkward for him if some random cop had pulled the cab over.

  There was a cell phone, a cheap burner that they more than likely wouldn’t be able to trace back to a primary source. But…

  It was possible that there was information to be found in the cell, regardless. Joshua opened it up, looking for called numbers and texts.

  There were both. All from one of two numbers. The latest was a text from just a few minutes earlier.

  It was a number. 74.

  “What’s that?” Leslie asked, peering over his shoulder. “A number? That seems like very little information to go off.”

  Joshua stared at the number. It seemed familiar, like he had just seen it, but it wasn’t coming to him. He pounded his forehead with his fist, until he realized how badly it hurt.

  “Don’t do that,” his sober companion urged him.

  “What?”

  “Don’t beat yourself up to try to figure things out. Don’t muscle your way forward.”

  Joshua released a long hiss of air, trying to keep his patience intact. “You realize that there is a woman whose life depends on me figuring this out, right?”

  Leslie’s eyes were shadowed as she nodded her head in assent.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Well, then?” he answered back, hoping that would be the end of it.

  Apparently it wasn’t.

  “Do you really think that punishing yourself is going to get you anywhere?” she asked him.

  “Would you rather I give up?” he challenged her back.

  She stood there in front of him, one hand against her hip, her head cocked to the side. The look she directed at him was gentle, but it still brought him up short.


  “Are those the only two options? Push forward while beating yourself up, or throwing in the towel?” She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure you can do better than that.”

  Something about the way that she delivered both the question and the sideways compliment forced Joshua to take stock. He knew what giving up looked like, and that wasn’t an option this time. Reggie was too important.

  “Fine,” he said, swallowing his pride. “What would you suggest I do?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered in a calm tone. “This is a new one for me. But I can tell you that pounding your fist against your forehead won’t help. Try letting go.”

  “I told you, I won’t give up.”

  “Who said letting go was giving up?”

  He wanted to strangle the woman. It was like she was determined to give him answers that did nothing but frustrate him.

  But, being fully honest, he did have some idea of what she was talking about. Muscling through things had been his modus operandi since… well, pretty much always. It described his process with Humpty Dumpty, back before his family… He stopped that train of thought. When had shoving his way through things ever produced good results?

  Maybe this crackpot was on to something here.

  What the hell. Couldn’t hurt to try, right?

  Joshua closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. Letting go of the pressure, while still allowing his mind to dwell on the issue at hand.

  His mind drifted, floating on and around that number. 74. It was familiar, it’s origin floating just out of his reach. Where had he seen it?

  He wanted to clamp down, to apply pressure to the workings of his mind to provide a solution. But every time the desire to do that built up, he took another breath, releasing it. Letting his thoughts flow toward…

  There it was.

  It was an exit number.

  The one they had just taken.

  Their driver had been getting real-time orders from the killer.

  * * *

  Sariah hated Oklahoma right now. At least this particular stretch of it.

  There were no exits on this freeway. After they’d been driving for another three or four minutes with no signs for exits in sight, Sariah had urged the driver to turn around by crossing the median.

  It had taken some persuasion, but he’d finally agreed to do it when Sariah decided to ask with a smile. Once she’d done that, their driver turned around in a matter of seconds. Sariah felt a little cheapened by the whole experience, but it was the least she could do for Reggie, she supposed.

  Now they were speeding off in the direction of the blinking dot. It was on the move, but it appeared to be headed roughly toward them, from somewhere off the highway.

  Exit 77. Closer. Exit 76, closer still.

  Their progress was maddening, but at least they were making headway. Sariah glanced at Had in the backseat, thinking once more how the young cop’s desire to keep the group cohesive had proved invaluable.

  “If we find her,” she told him, “it will be because of you.”

  Had blushed and looked down.

  From her seat beside Had, Bailey squirmed a bit. “Are we sure this is a good idea? she asked. “I know it’s hard to have your teammate captured, but us getting hurt doesn’t help her any at all.”

  She fell silent as both Had and Sariah glared at her.

  Bailey was right, of course, not that Sariah would ever admit it to her right now. They shouldn’t be going off after Reggie. Not without serious backup.

  But if they didn’t, the killer could discover her phone at any moment. And that discovery could cost them their ability to find her at all. It could cost Reggie her life.

  That was a gamble Sariah wasn’t willing to make.

  So instead, they’d keep going.

  Even if it meant walking straight into a trap.

  * * *

  Joshua stood above the cab driver, watching as the man stirred. He was coming back to consciousness, but Joshua was pretty sure that he wouldn’t end up being happy about it.

  After finding some zip ties in the glove compartment of the cab… an indication that it was Joshua’s capture and not his death that had been intended… Joshua had bound the man’s feet and ankles together, with some help from Leslie. He had halfway expected her to resist the idea, stating that this was a person and that he deserved to make his own decisions in his life or something like that.

  Instead, she’d forced his limp arms back behind him as she pulled the ties taut. She might be touchy-feely, but she wasn’t opposed to getting her hands dirty when it was called for.

  In spite of himself, Joshua was finding that he didn’t hate her as much as he thought he had. It was as much a surprise to him as it would be to anyone else. Joshua was famously antisocial, and he didn’t want this new side of him being uncovered.

  So he forced a scowl back on his face and waited for the driver’s eyes to open once more. It didn’t take too much longer.

  Joshua placed a foot against the man’s shoulder and pressed down. The fact that his arms were bound back behind him caused that simple motion to create tension on his shoulder joint. Enough tension to almost cause a dislocation.

  That would be tough to take.

  The man bore the pain with a fair amount of restraint, only allowing a small groan to pass by his lips. Joshua leaned in even farther, putting more of his weight behind it. The tension against the shoulder socket grew, and Joshua could feel the point of dislocation approaching.

  “Here’s the deal,” he rasped at the man. “You can talk to me, and all this pain goes away. Or…” Another slight lean, and another groan issued forth from the military man’s lips. “Or you can try to battle your way out of here with your arms and legs bound with a dislocated shoulder.”

  “Joshua, stop.” It was Leslie.

  Fantastic. Just at the point where it felt like he might be getting to the guy, and his sober companion had to get all holier-than-thou.

  All the not-quite-so-negative feelings he was building up for the woman were vanishing along with his chances of getting answers out of this guy. He lifted his foot off the man and strode away from him, not wanting his conversation with Leslie to be overheard.

  “You think your calm and collected approach is going to work here?” he hissed at her. “The killer could be taking her apart as we speak, and this guy has information we need. Right now.”

  “Joshua,” she stated, her calm tone a counterpoint to his muted fury. “I’m not unaware of real-world necessities. Remember the shock I gave you?”

  “Then what--?”

  She cut him off. “You say this man’s military? Then is it possible he’s just acting on orders?”

  That shut Joshua up. It was an angle he hadn’t thought of. If this man was doing what he had been told was the right thing to do, then…

  “He thinks that we’re dirty.”

  “And your actions are feeding into that perception,” Leslie agreed. Then her expression hardened. “Now, if it turns out he’s part of the cancer, there’s only one thing we can do.”

  Having seen his sober companion at work, Joshua was almost afraid to ask. Guided meditation wasn’t going to go over all that well here.

  “What’s that?” he ventured, as she seemed content to stay silent.

  A slight smile danced across her lips. “When you have cancer, Joshua, the only real option is to cut it out.”

  No doubt about it, he was really starting to like her more and more.

  * * *

  Reggie drifted in and out of awareness, the moments of consciousness making a strange tapestry when set against the backdrop of drug-induced dreams. There was no real-world scenario where Had turned out to be a part of the abduction, working in concert with the pink-haired ex-military cab driver. Was there?

  And had Sariah really kissed her? Stroked her cheek? Pressed her body up against Reggie’s while tracing her hand down along her side…?

  No. Wait. That had happened. Righ
t before Joshua…

  Right before Joshua showed up at her hotel room door, looking for comfort in her arms. She could deny it as much as she wanted, and Joshua would probably never admit it in a million years, but Reggie had seen that look in a man’s eyes before.

  He had needed solace, and she had been giving it to someone else.

  The grip of the drug was beginning to loosen once more. She was starting to recognize the feeling. The forms of the thoughts in her mind were taking on a sharper outline, the ideas more coherent and precise.

  Of course, a crazy person couldn’t really tell that they were crazy, could they? Was it possible that she was still as out of it as she had been before? That this was just another part of her hallucinations?

  But she wouldn’t be asking these questions if she were still completely under. This was the process she had followed every time up until that moment.

  And every time, he had returned right as she was coming out of her stupor. Reggie had no idea who “he” was, although she could swear she’d heard his voice before. But one thing seemed clear. He had a good idea of how long the drugs he was giving her should last with each administration.

  So where was he now?

  She was still bound, still in the back of whatever vehicle it was. The vibrations of the engine and the wheels on the road were markedly different, however. The road they were on seemed much less smooth, the vibrations harsher. As if the engine were working harder or they were in a different gear.

  Something had changed.

  And as she grew aware of that fact, she could feel the vibrations diminish in intensity as well as pitch. They were slowing down.

  As the vehicle rolled to a stop, it felt like Reggie could hear the tires crunch through gravel beneath her. They were off road somewhere. It could be a long country driveway, or it could be some rural path that led out to the middle of nowhere.

  Reggie focused on her breathing, trying to keep the rise and fall of her chest regular, to keep the panic from rising up inside of her. She couldn’t afford to choke on the gag. Especially not without her captor here.

 

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