Humpty Dumpty: The killer wants us to put him back together again (Book 1 of the Nursery Rhyme Murders Series) (31 page)

I hope someday you’ll forgive me.

Con cari
ñ
o,

Curtis

The phrases echoed in her ears, loud as a jet engine but quiet enough for her to feel each sound separately, distinctly.
Would have lost everything that was important to you. Wouldn’t have a day’s peace. Swarmed over our house.
All phrases that Sariah had said to him, almost verbatim.

She might not have been the one to string Curtis up, but she had pretty much put the rope in his hands and told him it might be a good idea.

He was a murderer. The man had killed dozens of people, chopped them up and spread them around the country in a grisly game of cat and mouse with law enforcement. Sariah had to remind herself of that.

And yet, he had a family. A wife. Children.

Right now, Sariah was having a tough time reconciling those two opposing sides of the man. She wasn’t sure it was something she would ever be able to figure out.

* * *

Joshua stared at the note over Coop’s shoulder. Once more he was struck by a sense of
wrongness
about the whole situation. He pointed at the piece of paper.

“You noticed the Spanish phrases at the beginning and end?”

“Yes.” Her voice wavered for a moment, then firmed up. “What about them?”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“What are you talking about? He killed himself. He left a note.”

“That’s my point,” he replied. “It’s like I said before. It’s too easy.”

“Easy?” It was clear that he had struck a nerve with her. The normally composed agent seemed uncomfortable in her own skin, shifting from foot to foot. “There is nothing easy about this.”

More self-pity. Yikes. Time to nip that in the bud.

Almost as if Bella could hear his thought, she started nipping at his shoelaces. That dog had the worst sense of timing in the world.

“Spare me,” he growled at Coop, pulling his shoe away from Bella with a warning look. “Your remorse is as uninteresting as reading the phone book while playing cricket. I’m talking about the
case
.”

“The case is solved.”

“Bullshit. It may feel nice and wrapped up, but that’s part of the problem here. Humpty is a loner. He doesn’t care about anything but the killings and the puzzle.”

Agent Cooper stared at him, the muscle at the side of her jaw clenching and unclenching. “How much evidence do you need before you realize that this is it? It’s done. It’s finished.”

“It can’t be,” he said, frowning. “This can’t be it.”

Joshua caught something then. An expression on Coop’s face. One that said that she had figured out something important. Or that she thought she had, which amounted to the same thing for most people. You can’t tell anyone anything they aren’t willing to hear. Not if you’re hoping they’ll do something about it.

“That’s the real problem here,” she said. “You can’t imagine finally putting this to bed.”

Classic deflection. He was disappointed. He’d come to expect more from Agent Cooper. But what the hell. Maybe he should just let this play out. See where she thought this whole thing was going.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“This guilt… this pain… has been sitting on your shoulders for so long that you can’t bear to have it taken away from you.”

Her words penetrated in a way that he wasn’t expecting. She was so very wrong about so much, but it was possible that she knew what she was talking about on this count. The woman was perceptive when it came to certain things, he had to give her that.

Too bad it didn’t make any difference where it really counted.

“Sure. Whatever. I don’t really care about all of that.” He turned to walk out of the hotel room, but couldn’t resist speaking over his shoulder as he left. “But whether you’re right or wrong about me, deep down you know I’m right about the case.”

Let her chew on that little tidbit for a while.

Joshua was going to go take his puppy for a walk.

* * *

Sariah spent as long as she could going over the scene with the local cops, Reggie there at her side, her presence as helpful as the physical tasks of clearing the scene she was performing. This young woman was a gem in the rough, a real find. Sariah found herself wondering if there was any way she could snag her for the team.

And then she caught sight of Curtis Howse’s body as it was being taken down by the officers. There was no need to attach Reggie to their team. There was no more team. The case was finished.

Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out and looked at the number. It wasn’t one that she recognized, but the area code was the same as Had’s.

“Special Agent Sariah Cooper,” she answered.

“Well it’s about time I got through to someone,” a voice came through the speaker. Sariah recognized the twang immediately. Had’s mother.

“Ms. Hadderly?” she asked, surprised. “How did you get my number?”

“Oh, darlin’, it ain’t hard. All you gotta know is how to sweet talk a few folk here and there.” Then her tone hardened. “But that’s not important. Where’s my boy?”

Sariah thought about it for a moment. “I’m not positive. He went out to check on a lead, but he should be back by now.”

“Well, I tried gettin’ ahold of him about two-and-a-half hours ago, and I’ve been callin’ him straight for the past hour. Keeps goin’ straight through to voicemail.”

That wasn’t good. Had should be back in cell phone range by now. “I’ll check it out, and when I know something, I’ll get back to you.”

“See that you do,” Had’s mother threatened. “You’re responsible for him, and if somethin’ happens, I’m takin’ it out of your hide.” The line clicked as she hung up.

Thing was, Sariah didn’t doubt her for a second. She turned to Reggie.

“Hey, have you heard from Had?”

The young cop dragged her eyes away from the corpse. Sariah could only assume that this was her first suicide. What the hell kind of first experiences was she providing for these inexperienced friends of hers? Maybe she should talk to the BAU about offering post-case therapy for everyone involved.

Especially Joshua. That guy had more baggage than a TSA guard on a rampage.

Reggie finished checking her cell that she had pulled out. “Doesn’t look like I’ve missed any calls or texts from him. Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” Sariah answered. “I haven’t had any contact with him since he let me know he was headed out to Cedar Rapids. But that was over three hours ago.”

“That doesn’t sound like Had,” Reggie muttered to herself. She seemed to think for a minute, then brightened. “Wait a sec. He made me add him on that app that tracks people. I should be able to find out where he is.” She opened up the program and waited for it to give her the information she was looking for.

“So, you guys can know where the other person is at all times?” Sariah asked, thinking that was a bit too intimate for her tastes. Although… there were people she might want to keep closer tabs on. Joshua, for one.

Reggie grinned. “Yeah. If it were anyone other than Had, I never would have done it. He’s just so…” she seemed to grope for the appropriate word, “
nice
, you know?”

Sariah did know. That was part of what had her so concerned right now. He was nice enough that if he knew he was going to be this late coming back, he would have called or texted to let her know.

Frowning, Reggie shook her phone. “That’s weird.”

“What?”

“He’s not anywhere,” she answered.

“You mean he turned his phone off?” Was it possible that Sariah had misjudged? That Had was off at a strip club or something and didn’t want to be interrupted? She’d certainly been pushing him pretty hard lately. Maybe even Had wanted his privacy from time to time.

“No, he wouldn’t just turn off his phone. That doesn’t sound like Had at all.”

“So what does that mean?”

Reggie looked up at Sariah, her face beginning to show signs of worry. “It means that either his battery ran out, or that he uninstalled the program.”

“Why would he…” she started, then stopped. “He wouldn’t. There’s no reason for him to do it.”

“Could someone else have…?”

That wasn’t possible. The someone else was being carted off to the morgue right now. This had to be some kind of missed connection. Some simple misunderstanding that would be cleared up and they would all end up feeling foolish about it.

Unless they didn’t.

Just how important was it that Sariah be proven right on this?

Not important enough.

“Reggie, call the precinct and check to make sure that he didn’t go back there for some reason,” Sariah directed her. “I’ll go grab Joshua, and we’ll meet back in the workspace.”

It was all going to work out. Had would be back at the police building or hanging out in the hotel. He’d probably just run through some sprinklers again by mistake. This was no big deal. They’d all laugh about it in the morning.

She kept telling herself that until she got back to the hotel. It never got more convincing.

* * *

Joshua wanted to kick Agent Cooper. Or at least hobble her.

She had paced back and forth across the length of the workspace eleven times since they got there, Bella chasing along behind her, thinking it was some kind of a game. Coop’s next circuit of the space was almost done, and then she’d be on to the twelfth. It was like Chinese water torture. Each time her foot landed, it seemed to get louder and louder and
louder
.

“Stop it!” he barked, then pulled back, pointing at one of the chairs surrounding the table. “Would you sit?” She looked at him, her face a blank slate. “Please?”

“I can’t,” she shot back, and kept pacing. This was going to turn into a very serious situation in a minute.

Right at the moment that Joshua was sure would be his breaking point, Agent Cooper’s phone rang. He pointed at the cell in her hand.

“See? That’s him, right?”

She glanced down at the phone and pursed her lips. “No,” she said, staring at the number on the screen.

“Well, who is it?”

“Someone from the station.”

The cell rang again. Joshua gestured toward the instrument in her hand. “Are you going to answer, or are you waiting for me to do it?”

She nodded, then held the cell up to her ear. Swallowing, she cleared her throat and spoke into the phone. “Agent Cooper.”

Turning her attention back to the conversation on the phone, Coop’s face went blank, then pale. “What?”

“What is it?” Joshua asked.

She sank into one of the chairs, almost as if she had lost conscious control of her limbs. As she spoke into the phone, it seemed almost an afterthought. Like it was something expected of her that she knew would make nothing better.

“Yes, okay. Thank you.”

She turned to face Joshua.

“That was the results of the mass spec. The diesel fuel wasn’t a match for Curtis’ truck.”

* * *

Sariah’s brain wouldn’t work.

She’d heard people talk about that before, but it had always seemed like such a cop out.
Oh, I can’t function, don’t blame me
. And yet, here she was, one small step above comatose. Helpless.

Wrong.

She was wrong.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she barely noticed. All of her attention was focused on her mistakes. Her mistakes that had cost a man his life.

The information wouldn’t compute. It was shutting down her sensory input, replacing it was random static. Joshua was saying something to her, but it was like he was moving his mouth and no words were coming out.

Finally, like a radio tuning in, his words swirled to the surface of her consciousness. She grasped at their meaning, seeking for understanding.

“… you staring at the wall. Get off your ass and do something about it.”

What was she supposed to do? There was nothing she could do. It was all wrong. Everything was twisted out of shape, and it was all her fault.

She struggled for the words to tell him. “He killed himself.”

“Yes. He did.”

“I made that happen.”

He nodded. “Yes. You did.”

“How?” she pleaded. “How did that happen? I did everything right. I followed the evidence. Played by the rules.”

His next words shocked her into stillness.

“Shut up.”

When it was clear that there had been no misunderstanding, that there was no follow up to be had from the former agent, Sariah prodded him. He was holding something back. Something that was important for her to understand. She could tell.

“What?” she asked.

“Shut. Up.”

That couldn’t be it. There had to be something more. Some jewel of wisdom winnowed from his days of depravity. Some insight that he could share with her.

“I don’t—” she began.

“Yes, you did this,” he cut her off, his tone level but fierce. “You did it all. You were so sure of yourself. So positive that you knew what no one else did. Now a man’s dead for your arrogance.”

“I—”

“I said,
shut up
!” he barked. “You wanted me to talk? I’m talking.” He moved in close to her, his breath warm against her cheek. “You want me to throw you a pity party? It’s not going to happen.”

She shrank back from him, wanting to call back the words she had spoken that had started this deluge. Wanting to erase the sounds issuing forth from Joshua’s mouth.

He continued, unrelenting. “You did everything right? So what. It’s not fair? No one gives a shit.” He pointed a finger at her. “I had lost my entire family. My wife. My kids. I was reeling from the shock. And what happened? Did someone come to my rescue?”

Sariah wanted to shut off the flood of his words, make them stop somehow or at least hurt less. But they continued to come without pause.

“Oh, no. No. At that very moment, right when I needed the universe to hold out its hand, my parents were killed in a car wreck.”

Wait. Had she known that? It seemed like something that she should have known. His voice droned on, the tragedy of the incident lost in the barrage of sounds he hurled at her head. So much pain. Pain and pain and pain and more pain.

“So don’t go looking for
right
. Don’t go looking for
fair
. Just get up and do something.” He backed away from her, all the energy dissipating out of his form, leaving him an empty husk. “Or don’t. I couldn’t care less.”