by Alex Barclay
‘I was talking to a guy-friend of mine, and this guy who walks in is totally staring at me. It was so creepy. My guy-friend was about to leave the party, but I told him to wait, that I needed to go to the ladies room. But as soon as I walked past the creepy guy, he started to follow me. There were people around, I thought I was safe, but suddenly there seemed to be no-one. I started to run, and I ended up in this room that was like some kind of office, and he backed me all the way to the wall, and I was trying to climb up on a table, but I only got as far as sitting on it, when he just dived for me, and started kissing me. I was so shocked, I froze. I … I … do karate. I always thought if something like this ever happened to me, I’d be one of those people who fights back, but I didn’t. I was so terrified, and he was so strong. Like, angry strong. But he was kind of smiling at me too. He was biting on my lips, but then he would kiss them really gently. It was so messed up … ’ She breathed in. ‘Do you need all these details?’
Ren could hear Glenn say ‘yes’, managing to put so much kindness into one short word.
‘I don’t know what happened with my hair,’ said Ally, ‘but he just pulled a bunch of it out …’
She started to hyperventilate.
The tape clicked off, then back on again, with the same introduction from Glenn.
‘He was … crazy,’ said Ally, her voice composed again. She paused. ‘I was terrified. But … I don’t think I screamed.’ Ren could hear her voice crack. ‘I … don’t think I made a sound. It was like my throat closed up. Like in your nightmares you scream and nothing comes out. I thought that was just for nightmares. I didn’t think it would happen in real life. I didn’t think any of this would happen in real life. He smelled bad, like he hadn’t showered and his clothes weren’t fresh. His breath was disgusting. It didn’t smell of alcohol. But maybe that was because I’d been drinking too. I don’t know. His face was pale, kind of puffy. His eyes were … it was so strange … his eyes were almost, like, sleepy. I thought, like, with something like this, his eyes would look wild. But they weren’t. They were sleepy.
‘I wish I had been even more drunk than I was, then I’d have forgotten all this, I could have blocked it all out.’
She paused. ‘He didn’t speak. He seemed so angry, and so happy, but I don’t know which it was. Because he didn’t speak. He didn’t say one word. At the very end, he muttered something, but I was so out of it. I think he thanked me. I think he actually thanked me.’
21
Ren left the Sheriff’s Office and dialed Ben Rader’s number when she got into the Jeep.
‘Talk to me about my girl,’ she said.
‘Well, Misty’s a wonderful girl,’ said Ben. ‘And what about “how are you, Ben”?’
‘Aw, you’re a big boy,’ said Ren.
‘That’s what you said last night.’
‘Jesus.’
‘I really like your friend, Janine, I wanted to say.’
‘Thank you, I like her too.’
‘She’s kind of got that dry wit going on …’
‘Is that code for she insulted you?’ said Ren.
‘No, not at all, she was really sweet,’ said Ben.
‘She is.’
‘Your house is unbelievable,’ said Ben.
‘Do you really think that is my house? Isn’t your pay check not too dissimilar to mine?’ said Ren.
‘I thought you might be, like, a secret heiress,’ said Ben.
‘Yes. And it turns out that Paris Hilton is actually an agent.’
‘The place must be a hundred years old …’ said Ben.
‘Even more than that – it’s a Gold Rush house,’ said Ren. ‘And the lucky lady who owns it is sadly not me. It’s Annie Lowell, a dear family friend: an adorable, warm-hearted, white-haired angel who foolishly asked me to house-sit.’
‘Yes,’ said Ben. ‘I saw the kitchen …’
‘I was running late …’ Three mornings in a row. ‘We used to stay with Annie in the summer when we were kids.’
‘I saw the family photo,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t being nosy – I had to follow Misty into the living room. You were so cute.’
‘Where did it all go wrong?’ said Ren.
‘Very right,’ said Ben.
‘You’re not supposed to reply to those statements,’ said Ren.
‘And where is this Annie?’
‘Traveling around Europe,’ said Ren. ‘Seriously. At eighty years old.’
‘I want to do that when I’m eighty,’ said Ben.
‘You’ll probably still be getting ID’d,’ said Ren.
‘And you’ll be like, “no, I am not his mother”.’
Hello? ‘You are nuts.’
‘It’s very boring here without you.’
Ren smiled. ‘Aw.’
‘I miss you,’ said Ben.
‘Don’t be a loser. OK – gotta go – I’m supposed to be in bed.’
‘Yes – mine.’
Ren drove down Main Street, ignoring the turn for The Firelight Inn and going to The Crown café. She ordered a coffee with two espresso shots and took out the copies she had made of the victim/family questionnaires. She started reading through Mark Whaley’s.
‘Hello, there.’
The voice of Paul Louderback. Ren looked up. ‘Well, hello there, yourself.’
He was standing with a coffee in his hand. ‘I walked right by you.’
‘So, did you send yourself off to rest?’ said Ren.
‘Yes. I didn’t take it well, though. In fact, I’m quite resentful of myself.’
‘My resentment, I can at least direct at Gary,’ said Ren.
‘Yup,’ said Paul. ‘Rest is for … other people.’
‘Not pussies, then?’ said Ren.
He smiled. ‘Can I join you?’
‘Of course you can,’ said Ren. Whose bed am I supposed to be in?
‘Can I get you a coffee?’
‘The least you could do for beating me to the suite at The Firelight?’ said Ren. ‘I’m presuming it was you.’
‘Guilty.’
‘Damn you.’
‘Did you get a room there at least?’ said Paul.
‘Yes,’ said Ren.
‘Well, that’s something …’
Something … what? ‘I’m still working on this,’ she said, pointing to her coffee. ‘Take a seat. Where are the other CARD shufflers?’
‘Shuffling in a less cozy setting. Two of them will be with the Merritts at their hotel in case anyone calls.’ He paused. ‘I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad you’re here.’
Stop. Stop. Stop. ‘Me too.’
Four hours, six espressos, and twenty-five pages of notes later, Ren laid down her pen. Opposite her, Paul had his head buried in a file folder. She looked around and realized that The Crown had really filled up since they had arrived. She watched parents watching their children. By the counter, a stack of newspapers showed the faces of two girls whose parents cared for them no less, but who, through an unknown series of events, for reasons Ren was trying to uncover, had vanished.
Families came to Breckenridge for fresh air, for powdery snow, for warm drinks and hot fires. They came for their breath to be taken by the stark outline of four Rocky Mountain Peaks against the night sky, not by the stark truth of the fragility of happiness, or security, or life.
‘Out of curiosity,’ said Ren, ‘why didn’t you let me know you were in Denver?’
Paul looked up at her. ‘Abject fear.’
‘Thought as much …’ said Ren.
‘OK, honestly?’ said Paul. ‘You’re terrible company. And very hard on the eye.’
‘True,’ said Ren.
After a long silence, Paul spoke. ‘The fear part is true …’ he said. ‘I was afraid that you’d drawn a line under us the last time.’
Yes – a lasting line, like a line drawn on a steamed-up mirror. She had a flash of Ben Rader in her shower.
‘Whatever “us” means,’ said Paul.
Us means
you and your wife and me and … deep breath … Ben Rader … maybe … I don’t know. Or you and me. And never to be.
22
Ren left Paul Louderback and walked down the steps of The Crown. Under the twinkle of fairy lights, she could see posters of Shelby and Laurie taped onto lamp-posts and in store windows. She got into the Jeep and called Matt on the short drive to The Firelight Inn.
‘I think I would have to be electrocuted or strangled by a string of fairy lights to ever fall out of love with them,’ said Ren.
‘Good to know,’ said Matt. ‘Should I add this information to your existing instructions for your funeral?’
‘Ooh – yes,’ said Ren. ‘Good idea.’
‘Maybe the priest could wear them.’
‘Speaking of dying,’ said Ren. ‘Or nearly dying … I’m in Breck and guess who shows up?’
‘Too tired. Tell me.’
‘Paul. Paul Louderback.’
Matt paused. ‘The PT instructor guy? The married guy?’
‘Yup,’ said Ren.
‘Oh, no,’ said Matt. ‘Where did he come from?’
‘D.C. And what do you mean “oh no”?’
‘Just … you could do without the complication.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Ren.
‘Why is he there?’ said Matt.
‘To mess with my head,’ said Ren. ‘This is all about me … obviously.’
‘And … how was it?’ said Matt.
‘You’d think I’d be over him by now …’
‘You are over him,’ said Matt. ‘This is just a little dramz. And you like the dramz.’
‘I do. But, it was a little … bam!’
‘Didn’t you sort this all out the last time?’ said Matt. ‘Didn’t you decide—’
‘Yes, yes, I know.’
‘Well, then. You’ve had the conversation. Don’t go back. And what about the new guy?’
‘I know. I know,’ said Ren. ‘But I can’t help how I feel. How I felt when I saw Paul.’
‘You can’t help how you feel, but you can help what you do about how you feel.’
‘I know, but … I’m not great at helping myself,’ said Ren.
‘Paul Louderback is – let’s not forget – married,’ said Matt.
‘I know,’ said Ren.
‘You said yourself you wouldn’t go near a married man.’
‘But I still have feelings for him …’
‘And so the cycle goes,’ said Matt.
‘What—’
‘Ren? Just get off the bike.’
Ren took the next turn onto French Street. A Missing poster for Shelby Royce was pinned to a tree and looked almost fluorescent in the glaring white light of a street lamp.
‘Oh my God, Matt,’ said Ren. ‘I gotta go.’
The poster was just like the other ones lined along the street. Except this one had something extra. Across her pretty face, someone had scrawled: WHORE.
Ren pulled in to the curb. She grabbed an envelope from her bag, put on her gloves, and got out of the Jeep. She took a photo of the poster with her phone, unpinned it, and put the paper and pins into the envelope.
What kind of sick bastard …
Ren checked the clock. She was due back to work in less than an hour. She turned the Jeep around and drove back to the office.
No point sleeping now.
Gary looked up as Ren walked in, then glanced at the clock.
What are you, the fucking slumber police?
‘Hi,’ said Ren. She sat at her desk, then realized that Paul Louderback was sitting two desks away.
‘Am I in some time–space continuum?’ she said.
‘I didn’t have a bed-time,’ he said. ‘Did you go back to the Inn?’
‘Shh,’ said Ren. ‘Of course I did.’
He smiled.
‘No – I found this.’ She called Gary over too.
She held up the poster. ‘It was pinned to a tree. I saw it on my way back … here … just now.’
Gary took it and studied it. He let out a breath.
‘I know,’ said Ren. ‘It’s terrible. It was just on French Street. Anyone could have seen it. Look.’ She showed him the photo on her phone.
Uh-oh. Shit.
‘So, you managed to see the front of this poster, while driving in this direction?’ said Gary. His face was set.
I’m dead.
He focused back on the poster. ‘Well … what’s this all about?’
‘It’s the only defaced poster in town,’ said Ren. ‘It could be nothing, it could be some Mean Girl who hates the attention going someone else’s way. It could be a girl whose boyfriend cheated on her with Shelby, I don’t know …’
‘Could just be an idiot,’ said Paul. ‘Or some young kids goofing around.’
‘Or Shelby Royce could be an out-and-out ho,’ said Ren.
‘And there’s that,’ said Paul.
‘Imagine if her parents saw this,’ said Ren.
‘We really need to get these high school kids to talk,’ said Gary. ‘They’ve told us nothing. I thought maybe that’s because there’s nothing to say … now I’m thinking maybe there’s too much.’
Ren nodded.
‘You haven’t talked to any of them …’ said Gary. ‘You get on well with young people …’
‘Jared Labati is my case-full of youth,’ said Ren. ‘Robbie is the youth, Cliff has sired the youth. I am nothing. They would do better.’
‘I think kids would relate to you better,’ said Gary.
Is this some kind of punishment? Resist. Resist.
‘I’ve been de-stabilized by my dealings with Mr Labati …’ said Ren.
‘Leave it with me,’ said Gary. ‘I have several things to consider.’ He left.
I’m dead.
Paul’s expression told her the same thing.
Robbie and Colin arrived into the office at nine.
‘Have all y’all got lists of who’s been in touch with the Whaleys and the Royces since Saturday night?’ said Ren.
‘Yes,’ said Robbie, handing her a print-out, ‘they got a bunch of texts from their friends and family after the press conference – more texts than calls – I think people are conscious of tying up their phone.’
Ren read through the list and the text messages.
‘So,’ she said, ‘who’s getting through the net … in terms of who they’re calling?’
‘Close family,’ said Robbie. ‘Both sets of grandparents have passed, so it’s siblings, really. And close friends.’
‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘Detective Owens?’
‘The Royces got a few texts,’ said Owens, ‘but they had a lot of people calling to the house. By about one a.m., everyone was gone.’
‘Thanks for these,’ said Ren. She looked down and scanned them.
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.
‘Thank you so much, Detective Owens,’ said Ren. She nodded as a way to dismiss him.
‘He itemized what foods each visitor brought,’ said Ren. ‘Mrs X, beef casserole. Mrs Y, homemade bread.’
Colin laughed. ‘What – in case someone was going to poison them? Are you serious?’
‘As serious as young Detective Owens clearly was,’ said Ren.
‘That kid is an idiot,’ said Colin. ‘The kid in school who sat at the back, scribbling really hard like a freak.’
‘Damn those Straight A students,’ said Ren. ‘Damn those people who lean heavily on their pens.’
Gary arrived back into the office. ‘Conference room everyone, please.’
23
By nine thirty the extended team of investigators was crowded into the conference room.
‘Welcome, everyone,’ said Gary. ‘Updates: the tip line has been swamped, we’re going through the promising ones: they’re in the minority. We’ve got nothing so far on calls to the Whaleys, the Merritts or the Royces overnight. I spoke with Mark Whaley’s boss at MeesterBrandt Pharmaceuticals, he’s the CEO, Nolan Carr. He confirmed
what Erica Whaley said – that Mark Whaley’s behavior has been a little strange for “at least” six months. He said “off-the-record” that he suspected Whaley of having an affair—’
‘So another affair theory …’ said Ren. ‘Well, they both agreed he was working late, but he said it was mostly at home.’
‘There’s always lunch break,’ said Colin.
Ren nodded.
‘This could all be a high drama way for Erica Whaley to force the husband to admit it,’ said Bob. ‘She’d know that if his child went missing, he’d have to tell the truth …’
‘That’s very drastic,’ said Ren. ‘I can’t see her doing that. If I was going to go to extremes, I’d start by hiring a private investigator.’
‘Maybe she did …’ said Bob.
‘If Whaley was having an affair,’ said Ren, ‘does that mean he’s an all-round dirtbag, the type to hit on a sixteen-year-old babysitter?’
‘He could have made some kind of move on her,’ said Paul, ‘and when she rejected him, he made her believe that it was her fault, that she was giving off the wrong signals …’
‘He’s an older man – he could easily manipulate a sixteen-year-old that way,’ said Ren. ‘Maybe afterwards Shelby could have thought of his wife and kids and decided, “I don’t want to rock the boat here, he didn’t really do anything, I won’t say anything, I don’t want to mess up the family that way—”’
‘And then she ran?’ said Gary.
Ren nodded. ‘Yes. Just to get away from the situation.’
‘And took Laurie with her?’ said Gary.
‘Maybe, maybe not,’ said Ren. ‘Maybe Laurie, if she walked in on something, could have been the one who was about to blow his cover, and he flipped. Or,’ said Ren, ‘he’s not unattractive. Maybe Shelby Royce came on to him.’
‘I’m glad you said that,’ said Colin.
‘Nothing is beyond the bounds,’ said Ren.
‘Well, Whaley’s boss certainly suspected him of having some personal issues,’ said Gary. ‘He said that he has never had a problem with him up until this year, and several times he said that Whaley’s alcohol problem was something that he had hopefully overcome. He labored that point, I didn’t bring that up. He gave me details of Whaley’s salary and expenses, and emailed me a PDF of his business calendar for the past twelve months.’