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“My track record and my many degrees and published papers and books would have sufficed with most agents.”
“I like to know who I’m working with. It’s not a big deal.”
“So do I, Nelson, and not because it’s a big deal. I will respect you regardless, but it’s good to know if there’s anything to be mindful of or things we might have in common. Like, I know that parents are a sensitive topic for both of—”
“I’m not sensitive about my parents,” Nelson interrupted flatly.
“Okay.” Nox nodded, careful not to come off as patronizing. But Nelson was either in denial or didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m attracted to people who identify as men, even though I’ve never been in a relationship because I skipped high school and went right into academia. Not a lot of options unless I want to date a closeted elderly gentleman or a student and I do not. I do well at conventions and when I’m invited for training, though. Divorced, middle-aged men are surprisingly curious,” he confided in a whisper. “Something about gruff, grumpy guys with softer middles really does it for me.”
“I don’t need to know any of that.”
“You do if you’re planning to leave me alone in a room full of men wearing polo shirts and cheap aftershave. There’s always a handful of quiet ones who don’t spend the whole briefing or a lecture staring at me like I’m about to turn into a bat just waiting to slip me their numbers.”
Nelson stared. “Noted.”
“What about you? You don’t have to get into any specifics if it makes you uncomfortable. Just…trying to get an idea of who Nelson is when he’s not being an agent.” Nox gave him an open, encouraging smile because he sincerely didn’t care. He just wanted to know more about the man in front of him and how far Nelson’s societal exile extended.
“There’s no other Nelson, aside from my dad, and work does it for me. I just do my job and I don’t worry about the rest.”
“I see.” Nox frowned because he couldn’t see. He searched Nelson’s face and his posture for signs of shame or irritation or even awareness. But the only time the other man had shown an emotion was when Nox pushed him into standing in the altar.
Nelson’s curiosity had been incandescent and almost a force of its own. But he kept it contained, restraining it with his methodical inquiry and keeping it fed with facts and testimony. And Nelson was pliant and trained to do what he was told without complaining. Until Nox had steered him toward that old oak tree and pushed him into the altar. Nelson had revealed that there was a temper contained in that stiff, starched suit and rigid aloofness and it could be provoked.
That Nelson would object wasn’t surprising because no one would react well to that, but Nox had done it to see if the downtrodden and detached agent would put up a fight.
And to show Nelson the breadth of their culprit’s vision.
There was only one perspective that mattered when deciphering a puzzle like that and it wasn’t designed for the object that was sacrificed or anyone who might behold it. It was designed by a single architect and his agents had carried out his orders for his specific pleasure and approval. Nelson needed to see it from his perspective to fully understand the vision and the type of power they were up against.
They weren’t hunting for a charismatic cult leader like Manson or Jones. They were looking for a leader with a large and deeply devoted following that believed he was divine, who were willing and capable of creating cathedrals out of antlers in the middle of nowhere. Nox had found the one agent in the FBI who would take him seriously, but Nelson presented another alluring mystery. And Nox’s greatest weakness was his own curiosity. He couldn’t stand not knowing something and he wanted to know everything about Nelson.
“So no girlfriend and I’m going to guess you’re…not a cat person,” Nox said, turning his attention back to his dinner instead. “Where do you think we should start, since you’re so into work.” He winked at Nelson before munching on a fry.
That earned another frown but Nelson gave his head a faint shake and refocused. “Cats are fine. I don’t have a pet but cats are fine. We should start with the first victim. There’s more to learn there because a kidnapping is like any other crime—or just about anything in life—and most mistakes happen in the first attempt. And as with most things in life, criminals start with what’s most familiar and easiest to practice with.”
“That’s fascinating,” Nox said, then smothered a yawn. “But we better get going. I’m probably going to pass out as soon as we get on the road,” he confided apologetically. “I don’t think that coffee had much of a kick to it and this cheeseburger’s about to hit me like a truck. I stayed up all night so I could have everything ready to go for you.”
It had been worth it, though. Nox finally had real help and he had a feeling Nelson wanted some time to process everything he’d seen and learned.
“I’ll find us a place to stay,” Nelson said, much to Nox’s surprise.
“I was sure you’d want to go straight back.”
Nelson raised a hand to get their server’s attention. “We can’t do anything until morning and you need to rest.”
She pushed away from the counter, dropping her magazine. Her gaze settled on Nelson’s plate when she reached the table. “Omelet wasn’t to your liking?” She asked and Nox was fascinated anew as she held the plate and waited, staring at Nelson. Waiting for what, he couldn’t fathom because the omelet had looked awful. Nox’s cheeseburger hadn’t let him down because he went into the experience hoping for a sad, greasy diner cheeseburger because sometimes, those hit just right. But that omelet had no potential from conception. He gave Nelson credit for at least trying to eat healthy in a place like that.
“Check, please,” Nelson said, then glanced at the highway beyond the window. “Is there a decent motel within an hour of here?”
Nox’s eyes widened as they slid from Nelson’s profile to their server. She was suddenly alert and blushing. “Well…” She stalled, bless her heart. “There ain’t much between here and Roanoke that won’t be closed or full. Y’all could try Minnie’s Motor Court over there.” She notched her chin at the burned-out motor court sign and the small, lopsided building on the other side of the parking lot. The many windows suggested it was an office, but the shades had been pulled low and the lights were turned down, creating a faint pinkish orange glow.
“It’s…open… I see,” Nox said weakly as he craned his neck for a better view. Seeing more didn’t help and he wondered if Nelson would let him sleep in the Continental. “It’s a long drive back to Georgetown,” he explained to her awkwardly.
“That’s fine, sweetheart,” she said with a chuckle. “We see all sorts around here and I know better than to judge folks. That’s as much a sin as sex if you ask me.”
Nelson jumped while reaching inside his coat for his wallet, startled as he mouthed bits of the exchange, clearly confused. “What’s fine? Judge what?” He asked, making her laugh.
“It’s none of my business,” she whispered while sliding him their ticket. “I’ll be your cashier.”
