Humpty Dumpty: The killer wants us to put him back together again (Book 1 of the Nursery Rhyme Murders Series) by Carolyn McCray, Ben Hopkin Page A
Authors: Carolyn McCray, Ben Hopkin
Tags: General Fiction
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was clutching at her stomach, red seeping out from between her fingers. The stray bullet had found a target, and that target was now writhing on the asphalt in a growing pool of her own blood.
“Shit!” the young man cried out, staring down at the girl. He turned to face Joshua, who was trying to lift himself up from where he’d been thrown. “You! You made me do that. It wasn’t me. It was you.” He swung the pistol back around so that it was pointed once more at Joshua. “Now I have to kill you and her both, you son of a bitch.”
“Or you could drop your weapon and raise your hands,” came a voice from the entrance to the alley. Agent Cooper strode forward, her standard-issue Glock steady in her hands, her stance straight out of Quantico. Okay, standard could be boring, but right now Joshua found that he was relieved to see it.
The would-be rapist’s gun clattered to the pavement, and Coop eased forward. After spinning the young man around, she pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them onto his wrists.
Joshua crawled his way over to the girl on the ground. She was moaning, still holding her stomach in her hands. Joshua tried to peel back her fingers, needing to see how serious the wound was. As her hand moved away, he could see the extent of the damage there. It was bad.
“I’m so sorry,” Joshua whispered. “I was trying to help.”
The only response he received was continued moans. A shadow fell over them both, and Joshua turned to look up at the slight figure of Agent Cooper above him. She pulled out her cellphone and swiped at the touchscreen.
“I’m calling this in, and then we’re going to talk.”
Right now, Joshua could think of nothing that sounded less appealing.
* * *
The NYPD had taken over the scene, and Sariah had given her statement. She’d also made sure that the victim of the attack was going to be okay. The paramedics seemed optimistic about her chances, but a gunshot wound to the stomach was never an easy fix.
Now she was just waiting on Joshua. He’d been much more subdued than Sariah had seen him up to this point, cooperating with the detectives on the scene as they grilled him about the details of the encounter.
Sariah had to admit that she had been shocked to find Joshua in that alley, attempting to stop a rape from happening. The man she’d met and spoken with so far that evening was not the kind of person who would push someone out of the way of a moving bus, even at no risk to himself. So what the hell would have caused him to step in here?
That fit in much more with the idea of the Agent Joshua Wright that Sariah had read up on before getting to Manhattan. The man in the file was someone who wouldn’t ever stand by while someone was getting hurt.
The fact that drunk, self-sabotaging Joshua had done it suggested that there was something of that former agent still trapped inside of him. Now all Sariah needed to do was unlock it and set it to work catching a killer. And she had a couple of ideas on how she might do that. None that would be pleasant, but maybe pleasant wasn’t what the former agent needed right now. If it was, he was out of luck.
She wasn’t that person.
Joshua moved away from the detective interviewing him, with a last gesture of finality. As he walked nearer to Sariah, she noticed that his gait was unsteady, and it didn’t appear to be from the alcohol. What their earlier encounter hadn’t managed to do, this one may have. Her gaze went up to the side of his head, which showed signs of significant bruising.
“You want to tell me what happened?” Sariah asked.
Sighing, Joshua slumped down and sat on the curb. “I was trying to help.”
“Looks to me like you were trying to get her killed, and maybe yourself in the process.”
The former agent winced, whether from her statement or from the pain of sitting down beside her with all of his various battle wounds, Sariah couldn’t tell. He sighed, a deep and long exhalation of breath,
“Shit!” the young man cried out, staring down at the girl. He turned to face Joshua, who was trying to lift himself up from where he’d been thrown. “You! You made me do that. It wasn’t me. It was you.” He swung the pistol back around so that it was pointed once more at Joshua. “Now I have to kill you and her both, you son of a bitch.”
“Or you could drop your weapon and raise your hands,” came a voice from the entrance to the alley. Agent Cooper strode forward, her standard-issue Glock steady in her hands, her stance straight out of Quantico. Okay, standard could be boring, but right now Joshua found that he was relieved to see it.
The would-be rapist’s gun clattered to the pavement, and Coop eased forward. After spinning the young man around, she pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them onto his wrists.
Joshua crawled his way over to the girl on the ground. She was moaning, still holding her stomach in her hands. Joshua tried to peel back her fingers, needing to see how serious the wound was. As her hand moved away, he could see the extent of the damage there. It was bad.
“I’m so sorry,” Joshua whispered. “I was trying to help.”
The only response he received was continued moans. A shadow fell over them both, and Joshua turned to look up at the slight figure of Agent Cooper above him. She pulled out her cellphone and swiped at the touchscreen.
“I’m calling this in, and then we’re going to talk.”
Right now, Joshua could think of nothing that sounded less appealing.
* * *
The NYPD had taken over the scene, and Sariah had given her statement. She’d also made sure that the victim of the attack was going to be okay. The paramedics seemed optimistic about her chances, but a gunshot wound to the stomach was never an easy fix.
Now she was just waiting on Joshua. He’d been much more subdued than Sariah had seen him up to this point, cooperating with the detectives on the scene as they grilled him about the details of the encounter.
Sariah had to admit that she had been shocked to find Joshua in that alley, attempting to stop a rape from happening. The man she’d met and spoken with so far that evening was not the kind of person who would push someone out of the way of a moving bus, even at no risk to himself. So what the hell would have caused him to step in here?
That fit in much more with the idea of the Agent Joshua Wright that Sariah had read up on before getting to Manhattan. The man in the file was someone who wouldn’t ever stand by while someone was getting hurt.
The fact that drunk, self-sabotaging Joshua had done it suggested that there was something of that former agent still trapped inside of him. Now all Sariah needed to do was unlock it and set it to work catching a killer. And she had a couple of ideas on how she might do that. None that would be pleasant, but maybe pleasant wasn’t what the former agent needed right now. If it was, he was out of luck.
She wasn’t that person.
Joshua moved away from the detective interviewing him, with a last gesture of finality. As he walked nearer to Sariah, she noticed that his gait was unsteady, and it didn’t appear to be from the alcohol. What their earlier encounter hadn’t managed to do, this one may have. Her gaze went up to the side of his head, which showed signs of significant bruising.
“You want to tell me what happened?” Sariah asked.
Sighing, Joshua slumped down and sat on the curb. “I was trying to help.”
“Looks to me like you were trying to get her killed, and maybe yourself in the process.”
The former agent winced, whether from her statement or from the pain of sitting down beside her with all of his various battle wounds, Sariah couldn’t tell. He sighed, a deep and long exhalation of breath,
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