by Alex Barclay
Someone not unlike myself …
‘And she sent you nude photos,’ said Ren.
‘Yes, but that wasn’t what I wanted … I didn’t ask for them.’ He shrugged. ‘But I probably shouldn’t have kept them, I know.’
‘In what way,’ said Ren, ‘did you believe that Conor Gorman was guiding you on the wrong path if you were also invoking The Rubyman because of him?’
Jesse frowned. ‘Um … I … his anger. He kind of feeds in to anger, and I don’t like that. I was worried that I was beginning to do the same. Anger scares me. I like Conor a lot, he’s my friend, but … I’m not sure he’s very good for me.’
‘In what way?’ said Ren.
‘He’s kind of aggressive,’ said Jesse. ‘That’s all. He’s cool, though. But … the things he’s done, like running away, the bar fight, all that. I’m here at the ranch because I want help. I need it.’
‘Tell me about the photos of Conor,’ said Ren.
‘He asked me to take them,’ said Jesse.
What?! ‘Why?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Conor. ‘He wanted one of his tattoo, anyway.’
‘What did you take them with?’ said Ren.
He paused. ‘The camera from the photography class. I borrowed it. I printed them out there when the teacher was out of the room.’
‘And why did you still have them?’ said Ren.
‘Conor didn’t want them any more, told me to get rid of them. I was just trying to kill two birds with the one stone.’ He looked at Ren. ‘I’m sorry about all this. I want to take responsibility for my actions. I don’t want to be like my father. I don’t want to ever hear the word Rubyman again.’
Me neither.
‘My father looks outward for somewhere to lay the blame for his own actions,’ said Jesse. ‘He created this myth, so he could blame that for his wrongdoings. Like, if The Rubyman did not come forth when called, then it was his absence that was the issue. That way, my father can’t lose. He has all kinds of people, real and imagined, to blame his actions on.’
‘It sounds to me like your therapy is working,’ said Ren.
‘Thank you,’ said Jesse, ‘because if I end up like my father, the Lord’s work will have been in vain.’
Still holding a torch for the crazy, bless your heart.
53
Ren and Kohler started down the hallway to Kristen Faule’s office.
‘I did not expect that,’ said Ren.
‘That’s what’s called a curve ball,’ said Kohler.
‘I feel so sorry for him,’ said Ren. ‘Jesus. Howard Coombes is odious.’
‘Kid didn’t stand much of a chance,’ said Kohler.
‘He’s been brainwashed,’ said Ren. ‘It’s like his father is half-cult leader, half-showbiz dad. Have you ever watched American Idol?’
‘My wife watches it,’ said Kohler.
‘I admit I watch it too much,’ said Ren, ‘I admit I love it. Though I am tiring of the same songs being sung over and over again—’
‘That’s what my wife says …’
‘Anyway, if you’ve ever watched it – you know those teenage girls who sing a song and they smile during the whole thing, even though the song is not a happy song? It’s like they’ve never really listened to the lyrics. Most of them have been performing since they were tiny little things, singing songs with adult lyrics that their parents didn’t even want them to understand at that stage, anyway. Their job was just to sing and smile. Well, I think Jesse Coombes was a sing-and-smile kind of kid, smiling and not really understanding the words.’ She paused. ‘Now he does. And maybe he’s going through audience withdrawal. The poor kid is so used to performing that he’s empty without an audience.’
‘That art room was the same kind of thing,’ said Kohler. ‘Put on a happy face. Do you think they take the black away from them?’
‘I do,’ said Ren. ‘That barbecue drawing …’
‘I guess they have to give them creative control,’ said Kohler. He paused. ‘All the same, I’d like to know if that was my kid’s idea of party planning …’
‘Barbecue at our place! You’ll be dying to come! D’oh – coming to die!’
‘Are you buying it all?’ said Kohler. ‘That he didn’t leave the ranch that day …?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Ren. ‘It would be my worst possible nightmare to discover that he’s only realizing the error of his ways now because of some monstrous wake-up call …’
‘In the form of murdering a pregnant woman?’ said Kohler. ‘Well, however much of a screw-up his father is, however much a victim he might be, there’s something about that kid I don’t like.’
‘I’m not sure what vibe I was getting from him,’ said Ren, ‘or if he was struggling too hard not to send out any vibe. Either way, there’s a disturbance in the force …’ She paused. ‘Can you do the talking, the accusing, the fingerpointing with Kristen Faule? I’m done. I’m done.’
‘Are you avoiding saying good cop/bad cop?’ said Kohler.
Ren laughed. ‘This time it’s bad cop/silent cop.’
Kristen Faule looked at Ren and Kohler with a weariness in her eyes to rival Jesse Coombes’.
What is this place doing to everyone? Shouldn’t it be enriching them?
‘Should I be worried about any of that artwork?’ said Kohler.
‘No,’ said Kristen.
‘Was there a reason you chose the art therapy room for our meeting with Jesse Coombes?’ said Kohler.
‘Yes – it’s a comfortable setting for him.’ Her tone was sharp. ‘Was there a painting in particular that bothered you?’
‘I didn’t study them all,’ said Kohler, ‘but the barbecue …’
Kristen shook her head. ‘It’s a scene from a young adult novel. That was the subject last week.’
Kohler asked her about the car, the cover-up, the lying.
‘Hand on my heart,’ said Kristen, ‘I know that Jesse Coombes had nothing to do with what happened to Laura Flynn. I hope you believe me. He is incapable of violence.’
‘We know that Jesse Coombes badly beat a school kid not two years ago,’ said Kohler.
‘I am aware of that,’ said Kristen. ‘I am breaking confidentiality – in his defense – to tell you that he told his counselor all about that, he wrote it on his entry form, explaining that it was a changing moment in his life, a defining moment. It was reactionary, because of his father’s original sex scandal. He came to the ranch and was taught that anger is a perfectly acceptable emotion, but that the key is to channel it into something productive. We were successful to that end, which is how he got into the terrible situation with the fire that morning. He had decided to do some good with his anger, to tidy the cemetery. But when it came to cleaning up after himself, again with the best of intentions, it all went wrong. That was why we “covered” for him. Kenneth and I felt that he had learned a valuable lesson in anger management, and we couldn’t see him punished for what was an accident.’
‘Well, just to inform you,’ said Kohler, ‘that Morgan Greene and Burt Kendall appear to have scammed you. Morgan took a personal journal of Jesse’s and told him to stay quiet about his presence there that morning. Morgan Greene threw on the accelerant. Jesse is innocent.’
‘That’s what I’ve always thought,’ said Kristen. ‘I believe in that boy. I just desperately want him to have a chance in life. I watched that documentary on him before I ever came in contact with him and it just about broke my heart. He was a lost boy even then. And, off the record, I think that Howard Coombes is one of the vilest men I have ever come into contact with. A man who is happy to keep throwing his family to the wolves, over and over, until they are picked clean. It’s disgusting.’
Kristen looked to Ren, her eyes filled with pleading. ‘I’m not a liar … I didn’t want to lie. I was … trying to do the right thing.’
Ren said nothing.
I’m sorry. I’m just tired of people trying to do the right thing and sa
botaging my investigation as they do it. I get you, I don’t get you. I’m tired.
Kristen’s office phone rang. Ren could hear the faint voice of the receptionist. ‘Not right now,’ said Kristen. ‘Thank you.’
Ooh. Oh. Now, I’ve got it.
‘Visitors’ day here is Sunday, is that right?’ said Ren.
‘Yes,’ said Kristen. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Why Sunday?’ said Ren.
‘Because families are often free to travel,’ said Kristen. ‘And the kids begin their Monday morning fresh from those visits. They go to bed earlier on Sunday nights, they get that contact, so it’s easier for them.’
‘So does that mean that they’re not allowed phone calls on Sunday nights?’ said Ren.
‘That’s correct,’ said Kristen.
Ren thought about it.
‘Mrs Faule, after everything, after everything you just spoke to us about,’ said Ren, ‘you’re still withholding?’
‘Withholding?’ said Kristen.
Ren leaned forward. ‘Why don’t you hand me that phone you confiscated from Jesse Coombes?’
Ren turned to Kohler. His eyebrow was raised.
Yeah: bad cop/worse cop.
After terse goodbyes, Kohler and Ren left Kristen Faule in her office.
‘So, Jesse Coombes had a phone in the ranch,’ said Kohler. ‘How did you know?’
‘How else would he have been able to hear about his father’s impregnating ways the night before the murder? That was a Sunday,’ said Ren. ‘When Janine and I were here the last time, Kenneth Faule came in and handed her a confiscated phone. He put a sticker on it and wrote what I thought was a number on it – 96226. I was reading it from the reflection of the silver frame on her desk. If you look at 96226 a different way, it reads JESSE. It’s Kenneth Faule’s writing: J like a nine, Es like sixes, Ss like twos. It’s how Jesse took the photos of Conor … I couldn’t see him getting away with sneaking off with a proper photography-class camera.’
‘I’ll drop this into the lab for processing,’ said Kohler. ‘I’ll take care of Morgan Greene, and send Janine your way, so you can check out the cemetery, confirm the kid’s story.’
‘Thanks,’ said Ren.
Ren hovered in the foyer of The Darned Heart, rummaging through her purse for her keys. She could hear footsteps behind her, quickening footsteps. She turned around. Kristen Faule was coming down the hallway toward her. When she reached her, she grabbed Ren’s arm. Hard.
What the fuck?
‘Please,’ said Kristen. ‘I know what I did was wrong, but …’ She took a deep breath. ‘It’s just …’
Ren gently pulled her arm away.
‘Agent Bryce, can you please do something for me?’ Her face looked suddenly haunted.
What the— ‘Yes …’ said Ren.
Kristen locked eyes with her. ‘Can you make sure that Derrick Charles doesn’t ever see daylight?’
54
Ren couldn’t tear her eyes away from Kristen Faule. She struggled to process the shift from Jesse Coombes to Derrick Charles. But Kristen was plowing on.
‘I’m worried that, because of Robert Prince’s donation, Kenneth’s campaign for Derrick’s release will work,’ said Kristen, ‘and that can’t happen.’
‘Why not?’ said Ren.
‘Can I tell you something without my husband finding out?’ said Kristen.
‘I can’t guarantee that,’ said Ren. ‘No.’
Kristen looked away. ‘This is all a mess,’ she said. ‘This campaign …’
‘The campaign?’ said Ren.
Kristen looked down. ‘No … not the campaign … well, yes … but …’
Who is this version of Kristen Faule I see before me?
‘Is there anywhere we can sit down?’ said Ren.
Kristen nodded. ‘Yes.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘The meditation room should be free.’
Please don’t make me sit on a mat … or one of those weird stools …
Kristen opened the door into a small room off reception. She nodded at the receptionist to let her know that’s where they were going. There were some regular chairs inside. Kristen took two out and set them opposite each other.
She held her head in her hands, then swept her fingers through her hair.
Hurry up! Jesus!
‘It’s just … it doesn’t matter …’ Tears welled in Kristen’s eyes.
Oh, no. I’m sorry. You can’t back out now.
This is something personal. Very personal.
‘Derrick Charles has met someone new while he’s been in prison.’ I lied. ‘She is twenty-six years old, she has two young girls, aged seven and four, so if there’s anything you know …’
Result.
Kristen swallowed hard. ‘All I can do is tell you my experience with Derrick Charles. First of all, what you don’t know about my husband is that he genuinely believes that he is not racist …’
What? Where is this going?
‘So,’ said Kristen, ‘he has African-American friends, African-American teens at the ranch, all that. However, what he is against is inter-racial relationships. Weird, right? I didn’t even realize until after we were married. I mean, he had all these African-American teammates, friends … we were already married when he made a comment one day about an inter-racial couple we saw out in a restaurant. Then I realized we were only friends with the players who had African-American wives.’
Annd …
‘Anyway, Kenneth was away … his father had taken ill. I was home, Derrick called over to see how everything was …’
Oh. Dear. God. You slept with Derrick Charles.
‘We had a few drinks, one thing led to another … I had always found Derrick attractive … We ended up in bed.’ She was staring down at her hands, gripped onto the steering wheel.
Silence.
‘He beat me black and blue.’ She turned to Ren.
‘Afterwards?’ said Ren.
‘During it, afterwards … I know that at first, at the very beginning, he was sweet, but it was all a game. Not even a game. He had already won. He destroyed me that night. He destroyed me. And how he looked at me when he was walking out the bedroom door. The smirk. It is seared into my brain. It was a smirk that said “I know you can’t tell your husband this, I know you can’t tell anyone this.”’
Why in God’s name are you telling me?
‘You seem like a strong woman,’ said Kristen. ‘You look like you don’t take any shit from anyone. I wish I was like you.’
Ren shook her head. ‘No. What happened to you could have happened to anyone. How were you to know? I’ve looked into Derrick Charles. He had no history. That’s why his appeal is progressing. He is saying that he never laid a finger on a woman.’
Kristen snorted. ‘A finger – no. He likes the full force of his fist. And I mean that in all kinds of ways. He is insane. And … he … bit me. It was a deep bite. Do you know what I had to do? I had to take a kitchen knife to my own shoulder. I had to cut out around the teeth marks and pretend to my husband that I had a skin cancer scare. I had to tell him that I had a biopsy while he was away.’
Oh my God, you poor woman.
‘Kenneth has been rubbing SPF 50 into me ever since,’ said Kristen. ‘And every time his hand goes over that hideous scar …’ She started to cry. ‘He’s so gentle …’
I have heard some grim things in my time …
‘I am so sorry,’ said Ren. ‘What a terrible thing to have to go through. And alone for all these years.’
‘Derrick Charles is an animal,’ said Kristen.
How can you let your husband campaign for his release?
‘Yet he managed to convince Kenneth to support him,’ said Kristen. ‘Can you imagine how sick that man’s mind is? How twisted he is? He gets off on every part of this. How does someone end up like that?’
He has definitely done this to other women.
‘How long before his wife and children were murdered did this ha
ppen?’ said Ren.
‘It was two years beforehand,’ said Kristen. She nodded. ‘I know – he has to have done this to other women in the meantime.’
And before that. And after that. And we will get him.
‘I can’t have children because of Derrick Charles,’ said Kristen. ‘So, I’m sorry if I come across to you like some defensive, lying … witch. Or that I don’t care about Laura Flynn. I absolutely do. I’m not that kind of person. I’m just … I’m fighting for the ranch. I’m fighting for the only baby I have …’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Ren. ‘So terribly sorry for what you’ve gone through. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you.’
‘I just wanted you to understand,’ said Kristen.
‘I do,’ said Ren. ‘But you can’t bring your fight into my investigation. I understand why you did what you did. But it’s wrong to have withheld evidence. It was wrong for the ranch and for Laura Flynn’s memory and for Conor. I don’t mean to sound harsh. I will get you all the help you need. And I will do everything I can about Derrick Charles—’
‘I hope so,’ said Kristen.
‘But not without you going on the record,’ said Ren. ‘I’m sorry that there’s no other way.’
Kristen looked down. ‘Maybe, the time has come.’
55
Janine was getting out of her car at the parking lot of the abbey when Ren arrived.
‘Kohler filled me in,’ said Janine.
‘Well, I got more for you,’ said Ren. She told her about Kristen Faule and Derrick Charles.
‘Holy shit,’ said Janine. She paused. ‘Howard Coombes … what he’s done to his family. Ren … what if Jesse Coombes came across Laura Flynn and she represented everything he hated at that moment? A pregnant woman who was about to take someone away from him?’
‘Oh, God,’ said Ren.
They took Ren’s Jeep to the cemetery. As Kohler had said, it was on a small plot of land that was recently tended. There was a mix of headstones and metal crosses standing over no more than twenty graves. The gate was padlocked shut and rusted. Instead, they walked around the side until they could find the missing fence posts that gave access.