“Not a problem, sir,” the young agent said. He nodded, stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked back toward the SUV. Dane heard August whistle again and started toward him. “I’m coming,” he said under his labored breathing. “I’m coming.”
* * *
“Special Agent Kirby. Glad to meet you. I see you’re already making friends.”
“Everywhere I go, Assistant Director O’Barr.”
“Please. Call me August.”
“All right then, August it is.” Dane looked back and tipped his hat to Dahmer, who had quickly stormed off toward a group of forensic technicians examining what looked like a pile of towels on the sidewalk outside the motel-room door. Dane shook August’s hand. He was wearing a suit like all the other guys wore, but he’d removed his tie, and his shirt collar hung open around the loose skin of his neck. August reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of menthols. He lit one up and offered the pack to Dane, who declined. “No thanks. Eight years quit.”
“Good for you.” O’Barr lit up. “How’s Charles treating you up there, Kirby? You like working for the GBI?” he asked through a mouthful of smoke.
“I like it okay. I’d like it more if I knew why they sent me somewhere I have zero authority.”
“They didn’t send you here. I sent for you.”
“An even bigger question.”
“Fair enough. We’ll get there. So, how’d you like that fancy helicopter shit. Pretty cool, right?”
“I can’t say I enjoyed it, August. I’m not a big fan of flying.”
“What? That’s too bad.” It was clear he didn’t give a shit what Dane was a big fan of. “Moving on,” he said. August put an arm around Dane like they were old friends catching up and began to walk him toward the motel. “I’m sure that big Lurch-looking joker over there has already told you why you’re here.” August nodded toward Dahmer.
“No, actually, he didn’t, and he was kind of a dick, too.”
“Well, that’s understandable.”
“Why is that understandable?”
August beamed a big toothy grin at Dane as another agent in a suit joined them. These guys were getting really hard to tell apart. They were like rabbits multiplying in the dark, but this new one stuck out from the bunch. She was the first female he’d encountered.
August made the introductions. “Dane, I’d like you to meet Special Agent Roselita Velasquez. She’s one of mine. Rosey, this is Dane Kirby. He’s a consultant with the Georgia Bureau.” Roselita nodded but made no attempt to shake Dane’s hand. Dane was actually thankful for it. He’d shaken more hands in the past few hours than he had in the past few years. He’d begun to feel like a politician and he didn’t like it. Roselita was slim and fit and wore a dark pantsuit over a bright white shirt, but this woman didn’t shop off the rack. Her clothes were expensive and tailored. Velasquez’s shoes alone looked like they might cost more than everything Dane had on. Her dark hair was short and cropped around her face and looked like it had been trimmed and styled less than ten minutes ago. If she wore makeup, Dane couldn’t tell, and there was something in her dark eyes that suggested she wasn’t all that happy about something.
August kept talking. “Rosey, I’m putting together a multi-organizational task force for this case and Kirby here is going to help you take point.” Dane and Roselita shared a stunned expression. August steamrolled on. “So, if you wouldn’t mind catching him up on everything we know so far, I’d really appreciate it.”
Roselita struggled but she kept her composure. “I’m sorry, sir, what?”
“No need to apologize, Rose. What part of what I said did you not understand?”
“I thought Dahmer was the lead investigator on this.”
“He was, right up until Dane got here. Now he’s not.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Sure you can.” August stood and waited, until Agent Velasquez actually asked.
“Okay. Why?”
“Reasons,” August said, and slapped Dane on the back. “Now, you kids go to work.”
* * *
Dane—and his new partner—watched August walk away, rubbing at the back of his neck, without another word of explanation. They turned to give each other a good once-over. Dane could only imagine what this pretty but hard-nosed young agent with the expensive suit and perfect hair was thinking. Dane was a middle-aged desk agent, with zero field experience, wearing a pair of dirty Wranglers and a Georgia Southern baseball cap—and this was Florida. Not only did he look wrong for the job O’Barr had just dropped in his lap, but Dane felt wrong about it, too. It was obvious from the look of utter disappointment in Velasquez’s eyes that she felt the same. Dane smiled at her. He had nothing else to offer. “Wait here a sec, Rose.”
Dane caught up with O’Barr just before he slipped behind the wheel of the Oldsmobile. “Hang on, sir, I’m not sure what’s happening here. I—”
“Need a proper walk-through, I know. That’s what Agent Velasquez is about to give you. Sorry about Dahmer. He was supposed to brief you, but he’s an asshole. Always has been, but he’ll get over it. Don’t worry about it. Once you see the contents of that room, you’ll understand why I brought you into this.”
“August, I’m out of my jurisdiction over here. You have to know that, right?”
“You let me worry about that. You’ll receive all the proper clearance from all the right channels within the hour. Right now, I’ve got to get over to the airport. Once you get your take on the scene, brief me directly on what you find, and let me know what you need. I’ll make sure you have it.”
“August, you’re not listening.”
Agent Velasquez joined them at the car and everyone began to speak at once until August held up a finger and took a call on his cell phone. No one else had heard it ring, but Dane and Roselita went silent anyway, like third graders hushed by their teacher. August held the phone to his ear and finished settling into the car. He mouthed the word “Go” and waved them both out of the way so he could close the door. He slammed it shut and cranked the engine. Once he’d rolled up the window, he dropped the cell phone on the seat, half-assed a salute, and wheeled the Oldsmobile out of the lot.
“What the hell just happened?” Dane asked himself for the second time that day.
Agent Velasquez turned toward the motel, unable to give a response. “Well, come on then,” she said. “We’re wasting daylight.” She crossed the parking lot, carefully stepping over a puddle of fresh vomit on the asphalt, and held up the plastic yellow caution tape. Dane avoided the puddle as well and leaned down to slip underneath Velasquez’s arm. A burned comforter lay in a heap by the curb. It stank of ash and burnt nylon and had been drenched with water. “Is that related to this case?” Dane pointed at the blanket.
“Yes, but it’s not important right now. Just follow me.”
Dane took off his hat just to put it back on. “Listen, Rose. It’s Rose, right?”
“No, actually, it’s Roselita. Nobody calls me Rose or Rosey except my mother and O’Barr, and he gets away with it because he’s the boss. Oh, and this thing that just happened? This thing about you and me working together? It’s temporary at best. You’re not even cleared for federal-level cases, so I’d prefer it if you stuck with Roselita, or better yet, Special Agent Velasquez, until this circus lets out.”