Blood Loss

by Alex Barclay

  Anonymous. Let me know how that works out.

  ‘Can you give me a description of the man who came to your house, and gave you that $20,000?’

  ‘Yes, but even I know that it won’t help you. He was like any other guy. Tall, thin, skinny face, short light brown hair, combed to the side. Black leather jacket, black jeans, black boots.’

  Ren wrote it all down. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Will I have to testify?’ said Tina.

  ‘I don’t have enough information to answer that,’ said Ren. ‘Now, I want to show you two photos.’ She handed her a photo of Mark Whaley. ‘Have you ever met this man?’

  Tina stared at the photo. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘This one was different. It wasn’t an agency thing. I was just to go up to him, chat to him in the hotel foyer, in the bar, places where the hotel had cameras.’

  ‘Did he show any interest in you?’ said Ren.

  ‘No,’ said Tina. ‘Not at all. He showed me a picture of his kids. I pretended I was just a tourist, waiting to meet my mom and dad, that they were up in the room getting ready for dinner. He was a nice man.’

  ‘And was it the same man who gave you the $20,000 that asked you to do this too?’ said Ren.

  Knowing that both men’s photos hitting the media would cause a shitstorm.

  ‘Yes,’ said Tina. ‘He didn’t pay me extra for that.’

  ‘One more photo,’ said Ren. ‘Have you spoken to this man?’ She put down a photo of Taber Grace.

  Tina looked away, slumping in the chair.

  ‘Remember, Tina, you are legally bound to tell me the truth,’ said Ren. ‘This man is not a law enforcement officer …’

  Tina groaned. ‘Yes. He was here. He wanted to know about the congressman too.’

  ‘Is there anything else you can tell me about him?’ said Ren.

  Tina shrugged. ‘No. He wanted to know the same things you did. The only difference was that he had a photo of the man who paid me.’

  Shit.

  ‘Well, he had four photos,’ said Tina, ‘and I had to pick the one who paid me. Which I did. But he didn’t tell me who he was or anything.’

  ‘Were they mugshots?’ said Ren.

  ‘No – they were just regular photos. But they’re ones that look like the person doesn’t know they were being taken.’

  Funnily enough.

  ‘When did you meet this man?’ said Ren.

  ‘This morning. He’s not going to come back for me, is he? I mean, he told me not to tell anyone …’

  ‘No,’ said Ren. ‘He’s not going to come back for you.’ She stood up. ‘Tina, thank you for your time.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Tina.

  ‘So, what are you going to do now … with your life?’ said Ren.

  ‘I’m staying safe,’ said Tina. ‘Webcam probably. When I get back to my apartment.’ She pointed to herself. ‘No-one gets to touch this anymore.’

  She rubbed the frayed cuff of her jacket. She looked at Ren. ‘Probably until I need new stuff, anyway.’

  Sweet Jesus.

  51

  Ren went to Gary’s office when she got back. She told him what happened with Tina Bowers.

  ‘Gary, you have got to let me go talk to Shep Collier,’ said Ren. ‘Tina Bowers was paid off – Shep Collier was set up, Tina confirmed that. She was paid $20,000 to tell a tall tale. And the same guy who paid her to trash the congressman sent Tina to The Lowry to entrap Mark Whaley …’

  ‘Where does Shep Collier live?’ said Gary.

  ‘Florida,’ said Ren. ‘Sarasota.’

  Gary raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I wish he lived next door,’ said Ren. ‘I have zero interest in getting on another flight, even if I do end up in warmer, more glamorous climes …’ She paused. ‘I just have a feeling Collier will talk to me,’ said Ren.

  Gary waited for more.

  ‘It was just … it was how he was on the phone with me,’ said Ren.

  ‘That’s it?’ said Gary.

  ‘My bag is still packed,’ said Ren. ‘This will be an easy transition.’

  ‘OK, go,’ said Gary. ‘But, Ren – Shep Collier stood up in front of America and admitted this. Can you trust what this girl is saying?’

  Ren stopped at her desk, and sat down to type up her conversation with Tina Bowers. Paul Louderback called as she was finishing.

  ‘Well, you were a big hit with my girls,’ said Paul.

  ‘Aw.’

  ‘They thought you were “so cool” …’ said Paul.

  ‘Well, you can tell them I thought they were so cool,’ said Ren. ‘They are really great kids.’

  ‘I know …’ said Paul.

  ‘You are allowed to take some credit for how your kids turned out,’ said Ren. ‘There was a little hesitation in your voice, there.’

  ‘Marianne has done the heavy lifting,’ said Paul. ‘I … well, I don’t know what exactly I contributed.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘So, what happened with Whore du Jour?’ said Paul.

  ‘Shep Collier was framed,’ said Ren. ‘Tina Bowers didn’t sleep with him. She was paid $20,000 to say she did.’

  ‘Any idea who’s behind this?’ said Paul.

  ‘I’m flying to Florida in the morning to talk to Shep Collier,’ said Ren.

  ‘Can I come?’ said Paul.

  Ren smiled.

  ‘I hope you didn’t mind Wednesday – that I didn’t tell you the girls were with me,’ said Paul. ‘I’d been sitting there, thinking, “How am I going to talk to the girls for two more hours?” I love them so much, and I’d be just fine sitting there quietly with them, but that’s not what they want. They would have gotten bored, and I would hate the idea that spending time with me was a duty. You came along and you were able to talk to them about movie stars, and clothes, and computer games, and pop singers.’

  Movie stars and pop singers. Quaint.

  ‘Were we at the same table?’ said Ren. ‘They were just excited to be there with you. They adore you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Paul. ‘And you weren’t the only big hit. They seemed to take quite a shine to Ben Rader.’

  Pause. Reflect. ‘Probably because he looks roundabout their age,’ said Ren.

  ‘In fact, they thought you and Ben would make a great couple,’ said Paul.

  Yeah … until their father showed up in town and messed it all up.

  ‘Kids adore Ben,’ said Ren.

  ‘He’s quite the charmer,’ said Paul.

  Stop where you’re going.

  Ren kept working until late. Until she got a call from Naomi.

  ‘Ren, get your butt into Gaffney’s. I’m here with your office, and they’re talking work and sport. Like that’s any kind of revelation to you, but please. Save me.’

  Ren looked at her watch. ‘Ooh,’ she said. ‘I’d love to, but I’ve got a five-thirty flight in the morning.’

  ‘That’s hours away,’ said Naomi. ‘No excuse. Get to your locker, do a Superman. Text me when you’re two minutes away and I’ll even have your beer lined up.’

  ‘OK …’ said Ren. ‘A few beers won’t kill me.’

  ‘Yay!’ said Naomi.

  ‘See you there,’ said Ren.

  Gary was standing in the doorway. ‘Are you going to Gaffney’s?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ren.

  ‘You’re flying out early in the morning, right?’

  ‘Yes …’

  ‘So, can you drive?’ said Gary. ‘So I can have a beer?’

  You evil genius. ‘Sure,’ said Ren. ‘You don’t need a ride home, do you?’

  ‘No,’ said Gary.

  They got into the Jeep. Ren started the engine. She reversed out of the spot in a sweeping arc that finished with a deafening crunch of metal, and a forward motion that slammed her head hard against the steering wheel, and split the skin at her eye.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ said Gary. He had grabbed the dashboard and his arm had taken all the impact.

  �
�Fuck,’ said Ren. ‘Fuck. I’m sorry, Gary.’

  Gary let out a breath. ‘Are you OK?’ He turned to her.

  She still had her head down, and was holding the steering wheel. She touched her cheek. She looked at her fingers. Blood. Lots of blood.

  She lifted her head up slowly, and looked at Gary.

  You are very, very handsome.

  ‘I’m OK,’ said Ren. ‘I think.’ She pressed her fingers along her eye socket. ‘Ow.’

  ‘That’s a black eye,’ said Gary. ‘And stitches.’

  ‘And it didn’t even happen in the line of duty …’ said Ren.

  ‘It’s your duty to drive well,’ said Gary. ‘What the hell happened?’

  ‘I … have no idea, I was just pulling out, I didn’t see anything … I didn’t think there was a car there. I don’t know. I’m so sorry, Gary. I can’t believe this. I’ve never crashed in my entire life …’

  They both unhooked their seatbelts and got out to check the damage.

  ‘It’s not a Safe Streets car, that much I know,’ said Gary. ‘I’ll call it in.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Let’s get you to a hospital, get checked out,’ said Gary.

  ‘No,’ said Ren. I want to curl into a ball and cry.

  ‘Come on,’ said Gary, ‘let’s get you fixed up.’

  Tall order, Mr Dettling. Tall order.

  52

  Ren sat on the sofa in Annie Lowell’s house with a glass of water in her hand and a packet of painkillers minus four beside her. The doorbell rang. She went into the hall and opened the door to Ben Rader.

  ‘Wow,’ he said.

  ‘I know,’ said Ren. ‘Not the prettiest of pictures.’ Six dissolvable stitches had zipped her cheek wound closed. She had a black left eye.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ said Ben.

  ‘Not when numbed by narcotics, no.’

  He gave her a long hug. ‘You’re my height again,’ he said. He glanced down at her bare feet.

  ‘Don’t get used to it,’ said Ren. She kissed him. ‘Thank you so much for coming, so late.’

  ‘Of course I was going to come,’ he said. ‘I was worried about you. How was Gary?’

  Ren made a face. ‘Not my pal.’

  ‘It was an accident,’ said Ben. ‘Accidents happen.’

  ‘I wasn’t really paying attention,’ said Ren.

  ‘I didn’t come over here to listen to you beat yourself up. I actually came here to be your knight in shining armor. Even though I know I won’t even get sex in return.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’ said Ren.

  Ben walked down the small hallway. ‘It’s such a cool place,’ he said. He turned back to her. ‘But I came to the conclusion last time I was here that we would never have sex under this roof.’

  Ren laughed.

  ‘It would be too weird, right?’ said Ben.

  ‘How do you even know that I’d think that?’ said Ren.

  Ben shrugged. ‘Same as I know I bet your bedroom here is pink and frilly.’

  ‘Frilly – I love it.’ Did he go up into my room?

  ‘And before you ask, no, I did not snoop up there.’

  Freaky.

  They went into the living room and Ben sat on the sofa. Ren stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

  ‘I was looking for a book to read on the flight,’ she said. She checked her watch. ‘Which is about four hours away.’ She crouched down. ‘This is an amazing collection.’

  She slid a small, blue-covered hardback from one of the shelves.

  ‘I was expecting a cloud of dust,’ said Ben. ‘That was kind of an anti-climax.’

  ‘Em, you have noticed that the place is clearly cleaned maniacally every week?’

  ‘I’m not saying the place is dirty,’ said Ben. ‘Just – it’s an old bookshelf, like something out of a movie. Or maybe a book …’

  Ren smiled. She stood up, and opened the cover. She read the inscription, holding her hand to her heart.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ said Ben. ‘Is it worth millions of dollars?’

  ‘Annie’s been a widow most of her life,’ said Ren. ‘She adored her husband, never looked at another man since he died.’ She held up the book. ‘He obviously sent her this as a gift,’ said Ren. ‘In 1952. He must have been away somewhere.’ She looked up at Ben. ‘If I read this out loud, I may not make it to the end, I’m warning you.’

  To my beloved Annie,

  Since we met, I don’t know the measure of anything. Folks talk of the beauty of a golden sunset, or the joy of sweet birdsong on a summer morning, or the wonder of a roaring waterfall.

  But you are beautiful, Annie, and you are wonderful, and you are joyful. Is there any more beauty or joy or wonder to spare?

  If there is, the answer is two months and four days away. For the golden sunsets, the sweet birdsong, and the roaring water will come to life for me only when you are by my side, only when they can draw from your endless reserves.

  My dearest Annie, just as you are beautiful, wonderful and joyful, I am thankful and I am grateful.

  Your ever-love,

  Edward

  Ren sat down on the sofa beside Ben. He put his arm around her. He didn’t say a word. He leaned forward, and pulled a Kleenex from the box on the table in front of them.

  Ren took it from him. ‘Thanks,’ she said.

  ‘That was for me,’ said Ben.

  Ren laughed through the tears.

  ‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘You’re a heartless one.’

  She looked up at him. ‘I thought you were joking,’ she said. ‘You sensitive soul.’

  ‘But, love is amazing,’ said Ben.

  There’s a lot to be said for an untroubled man.

  ‘I slept with someone else,’ said Ren.

  Ben looked at her. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘And I feel terrible about it.’

  ‘Why?’ said Ben.

  ‘Why did I do it or why do I feel terrible?’ said Ren.

  ‘Why do you feel terrible?’

  Uh-oh. ‘Because … of you.’

  ‘Well, don’t,’ said Ben.

  ‘OK, but I can’t help it,’ said Ren.

  ‘Who was it?’ said Ben.

  ‘Someone from before,’ said Ren. ‘Someone … I had unfinished business with.’

  ‘Did sleeping with him finish the business?’ said Ben.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ren, ‘the business is wound up, the shutters are down, the auditors have been and gone, there were rumors of fraud, but it turns out it was ultimately unfounded, and really, the business never stood a chance, and was probably only two silent partners who had more important businesses elsewhere, but were loyal to their little start-up that never really started-up.’

  ‘Is there potential for a new start-up, do you think?’ said Ben.

  ‘I do think,’ said Ren.

  Ben smiled. ‘Good.’ He paused.

  ‘How come you’re cool with this?’ said Ren.

  ‘Because I know why you did it.’

  ‘Well, I don’t …’

  ‘Because you like me, and you don’t really want to, so sleeping with someone else was your way of seeing how you really felt about me, or him, or both of us … I don’t know …’

  Ooh.

  He smiled. ‘Rader: 1. Louderback: 0.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ said Ren. ‘Take that to your grave.’

  ‘It’s in a grave, trust me.’

  ‘I do,’ said Ren.

  ‘Paul Louderback, though … I don’t really get it.’

  Ren laughed.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Ben. He took her hands and looked her in the eye. ‘It’s OK to care about someone. No-one’s going to die.’

  Shut. Up. ‘I know. Thanks. And I really am sorry. It’s just … that letter was beautiful, and I …’ … am not. And I love that kind of love. And I need everything to be perfect and if it isn’t … I can’t b
ear it. I can’t believe in it. It scares the crap out of me. I need you to know what you’re letting yourself in for. I can’t have you thinking I’m better than I am. Because I’m a piece of shit. And really, you should know better. And weren’t you trained to have better instincts? And …

  Ben kissed her, and took her in his arms. ‘There’s no need to sabotage this.’

  Ren slept on the flight to Atlanta, and slept on the flight to Sarasota. It was an exercise in anthropology watching people’s reaction to her facial injury as she walked through the airports.

  She rented a car and drove to Armand Circle where she was meeting Shep Collier in a restaurant called Venezia. She found him sitting in the corner with a coffee. He was dressed suitably expensively in tones of beige and cream. When he reached out to shake Ren’s hand, she could smell lemon cologne.

  ‘Thank you for meeting me,’ she said.

  He nodded. ‘That’s not a problem.’ He called the waiter over and ordered them coffee.

  ‘Excuse my appearance,’ said Ren. ‘I had a minor car issue last night.’

  ‘It looks sore,’ said Collier.

  ‘It is.’

  ‘So, what can I help you with?’ said Collier.

  ‘I don’t have a lot of time,’ said Ren. ‘I know that whatever is going on, you must be under incredible pressure, or in danger. I can’t see another reason why you would lie to your family, to the entire nation, and to the FBI.’

  His face stayed impassive. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Ren leaned in to him. ‘I spoke with Tina Bowers. That girl is frightened …’ Or naively buoyant, one or the other.

  Collier blinked. ‘She is seventeen years old, and she’s been embroiled in a national scandal. Of course she’s frightened.’

  ‘It’s more than that,’ said Ren.

  ‘I’d rather not talk about Tina Bowers,’ said Collier. ‘There is nothing more that I can say to you about her.’

  ‘Think of Mark Whaley’s wife and children,’ said Ren. ‘I presume you looked up the story after we last spoke.’

  Collier nodded.

  ‘I don’t believe that Mark Whaley murdered Shelby Royce,’ said Ren. ‘I believe he was set up. There was no evidence at first, but now it appears that there may be …’