Blood Runs Cold (8 page)

‘Hey,’ said Ren, walking toward the next-door garden. An older woman was backing down the path, bent forward, dragging a rug, giving it an emergency shake-out. She was wearing red oversized pajamas and giant silver snow boots. A cigarette was gripped tightly in her mouth at a ninety-degree angle.

She turned to Ren and rolled her eyes. Ren looked down at the rug.

‘Ooh, sick dog,’ said Ren.

The woman nodded, stood up and pulled out the cigarette. ‘Why do you think I’ve got this under my nose. Whooo.’ She batted her hand in front of her face. ‘Stay back,’ she said. ‘This shit is some age-old curse coming back to wreak vengeance on the world.’

Ren laughed. And stayed back, watching the woman from Jean’s drive. People unde restimated how much neighbors noticed. They had quiet,
familiar eyes. Depending on what they thought of you, they could store a massive amount of accurate details about you, or they could process it all through a filter of distorting emotions – dislike, bitterness, jealousy, lust, love, hatred, mistrust. One person’s hot neighbor was another person’s freak. Or to a third person – both. Ren talked to neighbors from the neck up, distracting them from the hand she was shoving through their belly to wrench out their gut for inspection. There was no face value with neighbors.

‘Seriously,’ said the woman, pulling a black garbage bag from the waistband of her pants, ‘let me wrap this up tight and I’m all yours. I presume you’re with the FBI.’

‘Yes, ma’am. My name is Ren Bryce.’

‘Well, I’m Margaret Shaw and I clean up more shit than you ever will.’ She laughed and pushed the cigarette back between her lips. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I’m done.’ She had washed her hands under an icy outside tap.

‘Margaret, I’m investigating Jean Transom’s death,’ said Ren. ‘And I’d just like to talk to you a little about her.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘What was Jean like?’

Margaret shrugged. ‘That’s a good question.’ She nodded her appreciation.

‘Right … is it a question you’d like to answer?’

‘Ha. Sure. “I don’t know,” is the answer.’

‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘Why is that?’

‘She’s the stereotypical quiet neighbor you hear talked about on the news. I’m wondering should we all be noisy so we won’t get killed?’

‘You could be on to something,’ said Ren.

‘I didn’t even know Jean was an FBI agent ’til I saw it on the news. I thought she was a forest ranger with her clear skin and those tan pants of hers.’ She looked Ren up and down. ‘You don’t look like one either. You could be …’

Don’t say anything that will scar me
.

‘… well, you have those eyes, so …’

Don’t say squaw
.

‘… one of those
Disney on Ice
people.’

Original
.

‘My son used to be the letter D in Disneyland Paris,’ said Margaret. ‘The ones that dance in the parade. He was dating Y …’ Margaret’s face said she wasn’t impressed with Y.

‘Hmm,’ said Ren. ‘Interesting that Y picked one of the only letters there were two of. And don’t tell me – one day she made the mistake of going with the wrong D.’

‘Or
did
she?
Did
she make a mistake – that’s what I said to him.’

‘But the … suit,’ said Ren. ‘Didn’t that … like, didn’t she notice, after the suit came off?’

‘He said they didn’t always take them off … sometimes they worked around them.’

Ren was stilled with mental images.

‘Anyway,’ said Margaret. ‘He’s Pinocchio now.’ She paused. ‘My guess is he’ll need to do a lot of lying to keep that Y bitch happy.’

‘And I thought it was the truth that hurts.’

Margaret slapped Ren’s forearm and let out a dirty, smoky laugh. ‘Good for you,’ she said. ‘I like your style. I’ve decided not to bullshit you about Jean now.’ She laughed more.

‘Well, I appreciate it,’ said Ren. ‘So, back to business …’

‘OK. Lowdown is as follows: Jean was private. Hello, goodbye, good weather, bad. I had no keys to her house. None of the neighbors did. She was quiet and a subdued kind of friendly. She ran in the morning … like she was being chased by the devil. She went to work early, she came home six, seven, seven thirty … I could hear the TV at night. She looked after her cat.’ Margaret paused. ‘I guess she was one of the millions of women in the world who do exactly the same.’

Ren was nodding her head without raising it from her notebook.

‘Now, that’s how come I’m telling you all this,’ said Margaret, ‘so the scene is set.’

Ren looked up, frowning. ‘OK …’

‘Well – and this could be absolutely nothing – in the last few months, she had a visitor, a very attractive woman, must have been in her mid-to-late twenties.’

‘Was she … a friend, a relative?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Did Jean mention her name to you, or did you see them greeting each other, saying goodbye at the door, the car, anything like that?’

‘I saw her arrive, this young woman, with maybe a bag of something from the store. And I would only see her getting back into her car alone. She had flowers once, quite a small bunch; I thought they were kind of measly.’

‘What did she look like?

‘Like I said, attractive, tall, brown hair, healthy looking, dressed normal, nothing too fancy, nothing too sporty.’

‘Did you notice, or did Jean tell you, anything about dating? Was she dating anyone?’

Margaret paused. ‘Oh, I see where you’re going with this …’

Ren paused. ‘I’m not going anywhere … I’m just wondering about other visitors.’

Margaret shook her head. ‘I saw her brother – I’ve met him; nice man – but that was it. I wish I could tell you something to help you find who did this to her. And I’m guessing already that I can’t.’

‘We don’t know that. Can you tell me what car the woman who came to see her was driving?’

‘A red one.’

Ren’s pen hovered.

‘I don’t know the first thing about cars,’ said Margaret.

‘OK. Anything else I need to know about Jean? Anything that might have stood out?’

‘Nothing stood out about her,’ said Margaret. ‘And I really don’t mean that in a bad way.’

‘No, I understand. Would you remember – did you see her on Friday, January 12th?’ said Ren.

Margaret thought about it. She nodded. ‘I saw her when she came back from work, around seven o’clock.’

‘And after that?’

‘No, I did not,’ said Margaret. ‘But I was in bed by ten thirty.’

‘And what about Saturday morning?’

‘Her car was gone by the time I got up. So she could have been there all night, or she could have stayed somewhere else.’

‘OK, Margaret. Thank you so much for your time,’ said Ren.

‘A pleasure. And here’s where I get your card in case my memory springs back to life with a vital clue and I save the day.’

Ren smiled and handed her a card. ‘Now, don’t let Pinocchio get his hands on that …’ She walked down the path to her car. ‘Hey,’ she called back, ‘where’s the cat?’

‘McGraw?’ said Margaret. ‘He’s not in the house?’

Ren shook her head. ‘No.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Margaret.

‘What’s he look like?’

‘Evil. Tabby.’

‘Is he Quick Draw? Or Phil?’

‘Tim,’ said Margaret. ‘Tim McGraw.
My
cat’s called Faith Hill.’

‘Really?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Cats? No way. They don’t give a damn about anyone.’

‘And clearly your dog gives a big shit about you.’

Margaret let out a laugh, almost slipped on an icy patch and let out another laugh. Ren waved goodbye.

Poor McGraw. Please don’t be out in the snow
.

I-70 was a slow-moving stress-fest. Ren checked her watch. It was four p.m.
Shit
. Skiers and snowboarders had started to make their way down off Vail Pass. Ren gripped the steering wheel, swapped her old gum for new gum, changed the temperature settings, rubbed moisturizer into her hands. One minute passed.
Shit
. She punched through her phone contacts until she got to H.

‘Hey, Helen. It’s Ren. Can you talk?’

‘Sure. How are you doing?’

‘I’m OK. Oh, hold on.’ She braked, slamming her hand on the horn. ‘You idiot! Fuck you, too, mister. Asshole. I’m sorry, Helen.’

‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes. I am. How are you?’

‘Well, I’m fine. You under pressure?’

‘Not really, I …’ She leaned out the window. ‘I do not believe this shit. Another rollover. Another
idiot lady driver in an SUV without chains. I am going to be so late.’ She closed the window.

‘Ren,’ said Helen.

‘Sorry,’ said Ren. ‘I got this new case – the agent who died in Breck.’

‘Ah.’

‘I’m lead investigator.’

‘Will you be in Breck for the next while?’ said Helen.

‘Yup.’

‘Is there any hope of seeing you?’

‘I …’ Ren rolled down the window again and stuck her head out. ‘This is a nightmare. Why today? When I need to get back for a briefing and I am in charge of –’

‘Ren, what I’m getting is you calling me on your way to and from meetings. I’m on speaker phone, you’re in the mountains, your signal’s going … it’s not great.’

‘I know. I’m sorry –’

‘There’s no need to be sorry. Just, why don’t you come to Denver?’

‘I can’t. I’m sorry. If I drove to Denver, I’d lose half a day.’

‘You might lose half a day, but do you think you might gain something?’

‘I didn’t mean it like that. I just –’

‘It’s been a while.’

‘I know,’ said Ren. ‘I really want to. But for now, the phone’s the best I can do.’

‘I guess it’s better than nothing.’

‘I gotta go. It’s moving a little. I’ll call you.’

Helen paused. ‘Sure.’

The conference room at the Sheriff’s Office was full. Ren was three-quarters of an hour late by the time she arrived.

‘OK, everyone,’ she said as she stood at the desk, staring out at the assembled team.
Get your
shit together
.

‘You’re lucky we can confirm the MVA on I-70,’ said Bob.

Ren stared at him.
Not in front of the children
.

‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘The last known sighting of Jean Transom was at the Glenwood RA on Friday, January 12th by her colleagues, Tiny Gressett and Todd Austerval. Our White Collar Squad is going through the financial records. What we got so far are recent transactions. So we know that that evening she went to the nine p.m. showing of a chick flick at Rifle Creek movie theater. We’re waiting for an ID on her there. The movie was over at eleven p.m. If she went straight home, earliest she would have made it was eleven thirty. I’ve just come back from speaking with her neighbor, Margaret Shaw. She saw her walk into her house at seven p.m. and didn’t see her later on that evening. Mrs Shaw herself had gone to bed by ten thirty.’

Ren looked through the notes that had been
left for her by the Sheriff’s Office detectives and the Safe Streets guys. ‘On Saturday morning, January 13th, Jean paid for breakfast at Mort’s Diner in Rifle at nine a.m. She went to the outlet mall in Silverthorne. She bought a shirt in J Crew, a necklace in Zales and a grill pan in Le Creuset. They were still in bags in her house. She then went to the Open Book in Frisco. The owner called here after she saw the news. She remembered Jean, says she was polite, they talked briefly about the weather, that was it.’

You can go through a day, a week, a month, a year
without ever thinking that someone will end up retracing
your steps because you’ve never come home
.

‘Colin Grabien over there,’ said Ren, ‘is our phone expert in Safe Streets. He’s waiting for Verizon to get back to him. So we should have cellphone and office phone records by tomorrow morning. I visited Jean’s office and her home. There was a phone charger in each location, but they were not for the same phone – there was a Motorola charger in her office, which Tiny Gressett confirmed was her regular work phone. And in her home, she had a Virgin charger.’ Ren flicked through her notes. ‘I haven’t seen any references yet to the corresponding phone.

‘I’ve taken away her work files from the Glenwood office – she had forty open cases. I’m going to split them between you all, so we can check for possible links to her murder.

‘Lists of people with priors in town are currently being checked out by the detectives here at the Sheriff’s Office.

‘This evening and tonight, I need people pounding pavements.’ She paused. ‘Thank you for your time.’

Everyone left and moved back to their offices. Ren gathered up her notes and was walking toward Bob’s office when she heard Tiny Gressett’s voice around the corner. Something made Ren stop:
her
name and
his
tone.

‘… Bu Babe who probably has Safe Streets wrapped around her little finger.’

Bureau Babe. Nice
. There was a brief silence. Ren wondered had they heard her.

‘Uh. Do you think?’ said Todd. ‘She doesn’t seem the type …’

‘Really?’ said Gressett. ‘You don’t think she goes in there and –’

He made a noise – Ren wasn’t sure what it was supposed to represent.

‘I’ve never seen her do that,’ said Todd. His tone was ‘wrap it up’.

‘Well, look at you …’ said Gressett.

‘She’s not my type,’ said Todd. ‘Have you ever seen me with a brunette? What about you, Gressett? You pulling her pigtails, is that what this is about?’

Gressett snorted. ‘Sure. Yeah. Sure.’

Ren held her cellphone to her ear and spoke – loud and cheery. ‘Not a problem, I’ll do that. You bet.’ She had turned the corner by the time she pretended to hang up. ‘Hey, guys. What’s up?’

‘Not a thing,’ said Gressett.

Ren walked into Bob’s office with a face to match her feelings about Tiny Gressett.

‘Is everything OK?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Ren. ‘Are you ready?’

Bob nodded and got up, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

Mike Delaney walked in. ‘Hey, a call just came in from Reign on Main. Hal Rautts says Jean had supper in there on the Monday night – January 15th.’

‘Hal Rautts is the owner,’ said Bob to Ren.

‘OK, you want to swing by there, check it out?’ said Ren.

‘Yeah,’ said Bob.

‘See you later,’ said Mike.

‘Where are you going to go?’ said Ren.

‘Me and your friend Robbie Truax are going to hit the bars on Main Street, starting out at the north end – Big Mountain Brewery.’

* * *

On quiet sidewalks covered with snow, Breckenridge still had warmth. It was a mining town that had ridden the boom and bust rollercoaster and come out on top; a resort town that managed to keep its charm.

Ren looked out the window of the Explorer at the thousands of tiny white fairy lights that lit up the trees along Main Street.

‘Here’s how I see it,’ she said. ‘Aspen is the beautiful, aloof sister. Breck is the cute one who everyone really wants to be with. And Vail is the one who’s had all the plastic surgery to try to be like the other two.’

‘Interesting,’ said Bob.

‘Even their names sound that way,’ said Ren.

‘You’ve put a lot of thought into this.’

‘I have.’

‘Doesn’t mean people are going to agree with you,’ said Bob.

‘It’s not about that. It’s about me working out how I feel about things through the use of analogies.’

Bob smiled. ‘I like it here.’

‘I love it.’

They drove past the Prospector, a little diner on Main Street.

‘A parking space is the gold dust around here,’ said Bob. He drove up Main Street for the second time and took a left on to Jefferson Avenue. ‘Round and round we go …’

‘It’s cool,’ said Ren. ‘I’ve –’

‘Do not say you’ve just said one of those parking-space prayers,’ said Bob, turning to her.

‘They work.’ She pointed to a space on the opposite side of the street.

‘Sure,’ said Bob, looking over. ‘Let’s park in front of a doctor’s entrance.’

‘Oh …’

‘Yeah – oh. We’ll keep on moving.’

‘Just do the church car park and we’ll walk.’

Bob drove around the block. ‘One more shot,’ he said. ‘Hey. Look at that. One right there. Right outside.’

Ren smiled.

People resorted to Reign on Main. It was where they went when every other restaurant was full. Every table had a folded coaster under one leg, every waxed tablecloth had a knife wound.

‘Hey, Hal,’ said Bob.

‘Hey, Bob. Thanks for coming in.’

‘Thank you for calling.’

‘I saw the photo.’

Bob nodded. ‘Tragedy, tragedy. Hal, this is Ren Bryce with the FBI.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Hal. ‘Can I get you guys something to eat?’

‘No thanks,’ said Bob.

‘N …’ said Ren.

They waited.

‘Actually, would you mind?’ she said.

‘Not a problem,’ said Hal. ‘What can I get you?’

‘A cheeseburger is fine,’ said Ren.

They sat down at a table in the back corner.

‘So – Jean Transom,’ said Bob.

‘Yes,’ said Hal. ‘She came in, took a table,’ he pointed to the window, ‘she ordered and she split under an hour later. She left cash. I can get you the till receipt, so you can have the exact time.’

‘Anything stand out about her?’ said Ren.

‘No. Just, she had a formal way about her. Most people in here are more chilled.’

Stoned
. ‘And Jean was …?’ said Ren.

He shrugged. ‘Just – she didn’t match the place, that’s all.’

‘Did she seem anxious or anything?’ said Bob.

‘Maybe, like, focused?’ said Hal.

‘On anything in particular?’ said Ren.

He shrugged.

Ren felt a flash of irritation.

The cheeseburger arrived with the lid off and a dull pool of grease on top of the meat. Ren’s stomach tightened. Even the ketchup paused. Ren smiled at Hal. ‘Thanks. This looks great.’ She had never eaten a mouthful of food quite like it.

‘Oh. I’m vibrating,’ she said, standing up. ‘Excuse me.’ She walked outside and rang Bob. ‘Don’t say my name. And don’t look out the
window. It’s me. Ren. I’ll give you ten dollars to start eating that burger.’

Bob nodded as she talked. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible right now. But if you can make it in to me some time soon, I can look at an alternative. And we can discuss payment at a later date.’ He put the phone down and apologized to Hal. Ren waited two minutes and came back in. Bob stood up to let her past and put a finger with just enough pressure on the edge of the plate.

‘Oh. I
am
sorry,’ he said. The burger fell to the floor, followed by a shower of fries.

Hal stood up. ‘Let me go order you –’

‘Really,’ said Ren, putting a hand on his forearm. ‘It’s fine. I … I’m good. We don’t really have the time. Maybe we could just move tables?’

‘If you’re sure,’ said Hal.

‘Positive.’

They took a small table in the corner of the diner.

‘Is there anything else you can think of?’ said Ren. ‘Was Jean checking her watch? Did she look like she was waiting to meet someone?’

Hal paused. ‘Hmm. I can’t be sure, but I wouldn’t say so. And she didn’t seem to leave in a real big hurry.’ He shrugged. ‘It all seems kind of lame now. I mean, you guys came all the way in here, and now I feel, like … whatever.’

Ren shook her head. ‘We got to talk to one of
the last people who saw our victim alive. That’s really important.’

‘Thanks,’ said Hal. ‘I kind of hope I remember more, like something will come back to me when you’re gone.’

This is not a movie
. ‘Well, if it does, you can call either of us.’

They both handed over their cards.
Even though
it feels like a movie some times
.

As they got up to leave, a group of tourists stood staring through the window, dressed for a nicer restaurant they clearly couldn’t get a table at. None of them looked as if they wanted to be the one to say no and keep the group walking the streets in the snow to find another place that could be full.
Do it. Go, go, go. Don’t ruin your night
.

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Bob when they got out on to the street, ‘was the burger really all that bad?’

Ren paused. ‘It was the kind of meat that brought you on a journey from hairy abattoirs to small-town processing plants where workers play games like Kick the Cows’ Balls into the Grinder.’

‘Bulls’ balls.’

‘Yeah, OK. Because that makes it better.’

‘Why didn’t you just leave it?’ said Bob.

‘I didn’t want to offend the guy.’

‘Politeness could kill you some day,’ said Bob. ‘“Please sir, would you mind not firing that gun into my temple? And really, you are squeezing
my waist a little too tight. But I must say, the tattoo on your forearm is beautifully drawn.”’

‘It’s more I don’t like hurting people’s feelings,’ said Ren.

‘Jesus, you’ll go right up the ranks of the FBI with that stony attitude,’ said Bob. ‘Hey, do you think Jean Transom actually ate her meal?’

‘If she did?’ said Ren. ‘That’s cause of death locked off.’