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Authors: Alex Barclay

Blood Loss (22 page)

BOOK: Blood Loss
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Jan. 17: Asleep at desk …

Jan. 18: Caught bandit. Here’s link. Totally nailed it.

Jan. 19: Hangover from hell …

Jan. 21: Started dance class. What a blast! Teacher said I was a natural.

Jan. 24: Extreme rider rides off into sunset …

Jan. 25: Phone company total IDIOTS!!! Hate them!!!

Jan. 27: Took delivery of some very nice dance gear.

Feb. 12: Gave up dance.

Feb. 18 to Feb. 24 (no mails).

Feb. 25: Note to self: don’t open credit card statement when miserable.

Feb. 27: Off work for a while. Gary great. Feel like shit.

Feb. 28: Not going to make it to NY. Sorry.

Mar. 06: Back at work. Ugh.

Mar. 05: Yes, saw Helen. Helped, as always.

At the end, Matt had written:
Ren, try that psychiatrist again. For me.

Ren deleted the email.

41

Ren opened an email to Matt and typed: Nice.

She deleted the email. She called Matt.

‘Nice,’ she said.

Matt took a breath. ‘I was just trying to get you to—’

‘That was unbelievably mean,’ said Ren. ‘They were emails I sent to you that you’ve managed to turn into something shitty. Who the hell goes back over emails and—’

‘That’s not what I—’

‘Just because you have zero social life,’ said Ren.

‘Yes, I have zero social life,’ said Matt, ‘but it’s from looking after my baby son, Ren. And looking after my wife. I don’t want any other kind of life. And all I want for you is to be happy.’

‘Yet,’ said Ren, ‘you make out the emails where I am clearly happy and having fun prove some kind of negative.’

‘No,’ said Matt, ‘that’s not it, it’s … think back to the emails that came after the happy ones—’

‘Just answer me this,’ said Ren, ‘am I ever just allowed to be happy? Have you created this threshold where … if I cross it, some alarm rings somewhere? You’re turning into Jay:
your
judgment is the only one.’ Jay was their eldest brother.

‘That is not true,’ said Matt.

‘It’s starting to be,’ said Ren. ‘How you see the world is how it is. Don’t look at yourself, just look at me, right? Then you don’t have to face any of your own shit—’

‘Ren, I’ve got to go,’ said Matt.

‘Of course you do,’ said Ren.

‘I’ll talk to you soon,’ said Matt.

‘Wait,’ said Ren. ‘Wait. What if you called me and “I had the most amazing day, Ren. Ethan, Lauren and I went for breakfast, then we went to the playground, and he just
loved
the little baby swing, and then we took a walk around the park, and there were these cute new ducks, and then we went for ice-cream, and then we went home and got a sitter, and Lauren and I went for dinner in this great new Italian place, and then” … then I said to
you
, “whoa, Matt, be really careful, that sounds really good, you’ve got a lot of happiness going on there, you need to be careful—”’

‘Ren, I really have to go,’ said Matt.

‘Yes,’ said Ren, ‘as soon as I’ve got something to say, you—’

‘Look after yourself, OK?’ said Matt. ‘I love you.’

‘Sure you do.’ Ren cut the call before Matt could.

She grabbed her keyboard and went to Apple movie trailers.

Her email pinged. She opened it.

Matt had forwarded her another email that she had sent him late the previous year:

Hi Matt,

I’m so sorry. I was way out of line. I know you understand me – in as much as anyone can … and sorry for the threshold thing again.

You’re always there for me. And I’m so grateful. And I love you too. Please ignore all evidence to the contrary …
x

Ren stared at the screen. She could feel her face burning.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Ren’s office phone rang.

If it’s Matt, I’m hanging up.

‘Hi Ren, it’s Cathy Merritt …’

‘Oh … hi, Cathy.’

‘Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering … do you have someone watching our house? Or keeping an eye on Laurie?’

What?
‘No,’ said Ren. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘A neighbor came by and asked me were the police still looking out for us,’ said Cathy. ‘They’d seen a black sedan at the end of our block, but within view of our house – once when Laurie was getting dropped off from a friend’s house. And once at the weekend. Apparently it drove by when she was out in the garden, making a snowman. That was on Saturday.’

‘Really?’ said Ren. ‘OK, let me look into that for you.’

‘Thank you,’ said Cathy. ‘The neighborhood is on high alert – the girl who was raped at the Kennington place lives only two blocks away, and with Laurie and everything … it could just be paranoia, but, if it isn’t …’

‘I understand,’ said Ren.

Gary walked into the office while she was on the call. Ren told him about the black sedan.

‘Could it be Denver PD watching the Merritts?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Gary. ‘At least not to my knowledge. Why would they?’

‘It’s just weird,’ said Ren.

‘Did the neighbor get a license plate?’ said Gary.

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘She just said black sedan.’

‘And when was the last time she saw it?’ said Gary.

‘Saturday,’ said Ren. ‘What do you think it could be?’

‘I think there are some real sick people in the world and one of them might have liked the pretty little girl on the news …’ said Gary.

‘Ugh,’ said Ren.

‘Could have been just a reporter,’ said Gary.

‘Yup,’ said Ren, ‘a grown-up who thought it would be nice to freak the shit out of a kid who has already been abducted and lost her father,’ said Ren. ‘There are no boundaries in the world any more. Zero.’ She paused. ‘Want me to go check it out? Let me re-phrase, I’ll go check it out.’

‘Don’t go anywhere, yet,’ said Cliff, calling from his desk. ‘JeffCo pathologist’s on line one for you.’

Ren picked up. ‘Dr Tolman …’

‘Hello Ren, I wanted to let you know that the results on Shelby Royce have come back from the lab – the oral sex didn’t happen the night she disappeared, but somewhere within the twenty-four hours leading up to her death,’ said Tolman. ‘And the traces of semen are not a match for Mark Whaley.’

‘What?’ said Ren.

‘There was another man with Shelby Royce the day before she died,’ said Dr Tolman. ‘Someone else appears to have been involved.’

42

Ren couldn’t believe what Dr Tolman was saying. Someone else was involved. Someone who was stupid enough not to know that the semen could have been tested, or reckless enough not to care. Someone who knew they weren’t on a database anywhere.

‘Wow,’ said Ren.

‘It’s not a match for Mark Whaley or any dirtbag in CODIS,’ said Dr Tolman.

‘Well, thanks for letting me know,’ said Ren. She put down the phone.

‘So,’ she said, ‘Mark Whaley was not alone. The semen found in Shelby Royce’s mouth was not a match. Neither was it a match with anyone in CODIS.’

‘Whether he was alone or not, he pulled the trigger,’ said Colin, ‘that’s a proven scientific fact.’

‘Yes, and now we have another proven scientific fact,’ said Ren. ‘Some other man had a sexual encounter with Shelby Royce in the twenty-four hours leading up to her death. Maybe this isn’t all about Mark Whaley. Where had she been for those two days? Was she with Laurie Whaley?’

Clermont Street was in Park Hill in North East Denver. All the houses on the street were decorated similarly for Christmas as if the residents had gotten together and made a plan. A modest plan, but a cheery one.

The Merritts lived in a bungalow with a small garden. There were five stone steps up to the door. A Christmas wreath was hanging from it.

Cathy Merritt opened the door.

‘Hi Cathy,’ said Ren.

‘Hello, Agent Bryce,’ said Cathy. ‘And, it’s Agent Truax, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ said Robbie.

They shook hands.

‘Come on in,’ said Cathy.

She led them into the living room. It was decorated almost entirely in oranges and reds – the walls, the throws, the cushions, the lamp shades. A fire glowed in the hearth, amplifying the strange effect. Even the small Christmas tree had red lights.

‘Would you like some hot chocolate?’ said Cathy. ‘I was just about to make some.’

‘Thank you,’ said Ren. ‘That would be great.’

‘Yes,’ said Robbie.

Cathy went through a small door into the kitchen.

Ren looked at Robbie. His blond hair and the right side of his face were glowing.

‘Brothel chic …’ Ren mouthed.

‘What sheet?’ said Robbie, sitting forward.

Ren shook her head.
Never mind.

‘Brought what sheet?’ said Robbie.

Shut up!

Cathy Merritt came back in with a tray of hot chocolate and a plate of muffins. ‘They’re cinnamon,’ she said.

And what about the hash ones you were eating when you were styling the room?

Ren took a muffin and a mug of hot chocolate. ‘Thank you. How’s Laurie doing?’

‘She’s OK,’ said Cathy. ‘It’s been tough. She actually wanted to go back to school today, but I said no. I’ll have to let her go tomorrow, though. She just wants to be back to normal. She’s going to get a lot of attention, and I don’t think that’s going to ease up any time soon. The school principal called, the teachers are all going to do their best, but … the kids, well … she’s like a superstar and a freak at the same time. And then, there’s what happened to Mark … parents are obviously talking, and the kids are picking up on it.’

BOOK: Blood Loss
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ads

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