‘Me too,’ said Ren. ‘That was my point.’
‘So,’ said Paul. ‘I knew you couldn’t fill her shoes, but … you could follow her footprints in the snow.’
64
The next morning, Ren arrived into an atmosphere in the office she couldn’t quite get a handle on: Colin, Cliff and Robbie were sitting around talking and stopped as soon as she walked in.
‘Good job,’ said Colin, nodding.
‘Well done, young lady,’ said Cliff.
‘You go, girl,’ said Robbie.
‘Well, thank you very much,’ said Ren. She slumped down on the edge of her desk.
‘Have you been up all night?’ said Robbie.
‘I have,’ said Ren. ‘And I was in Vail by six thirty this morning to deliver Patrick Transom the ultimate good news/bad news scenario. The good news? We found your sister’s killer. The bad news? Your whole family lied to you all your life; your family name isn’t exactly real and your parents are dead, so you can’t even find out any more. Your beloved sister was abducted and raped as an eleven-year-old. Oh – and you have a niece you never knew existed.’
‘When you put it like that …’ said Cliff.
‘She probably did,’ said Colin.
‘Yes,’ said Ren, ‘at times like that I think “If only I had the tact of Colin Grabien”.’
‘How did Transom take it?’ said Cliff.
‘You name it,’ said Ren. ‘Relief, shock, anger, happiness, sadness … a quick burst of all the emotions that he would have to really deal with for the rest of his life. Like a trailer for the big feature.’
‘Wow,’ said Robbie.
‘And,’ said Ren, ‘he wants to meet Caroline Quaintance. And if she agrees to a meeting, he wants me to be there too. Yikes.’
‘Aw, you’d be good at that,’ said Robbie.
‘I don’t know,’ said Ren.
‘Yeah, you’re kind of heartless enough to be neutral,’ said Colin.
Cliff and Robbie both turned on him.
‘Thank you, guys,’ said Ren. ‘Now – anyone know why I got a text from our great leader, Gary Dettling, to get my ass in here for nine a.m.?’
‘That’s what we were talking about when you walked in,’ said Robbie. ‘There are some interesting people here to see you.’
‘What?’ said Ren. ‘Who?’ She studied their faces. No one looked particularly upbeat.
‘I fear for you,’ said Colin.
‘Shut up,’ said Robbie.
‘Yeah, that’s not very helpful,’ said Ren.
‘She could be getting a Shield of Bravery or something,’ said Robbie.
They all laughed.
Robbie was about to answer when Bob stuck his head in the door and told her she was needed immediately in the conference room. Facing her, side by side were Special Agent in Charge, Tim Monahan, and Assistant Special Agent in Charge, Jeff Warwick – Gary Dettling’s superiors. All the tension in the room was radiating from one point – where Gary Dettling stood.
‘Good morning, Agent Bryce,’ said Warwick.
‘Good morning,’ said Ren, taking a seat.
‘We’ve had some interesting developments into the suspected Val Pando robberies …’
‘OK,’ said Ren, nodding.
‘And we were curious to know,’ said Warwick, ‘what exactly is your relationship with Billy Waites?’
Ren stared at the photo of Billy Waites that Warwick had thrown down in front of her. It was Billy’s mug shot again, long hair, beard, cold eyes: everything about him that was designed to conceal. But Ren knew what those eyes looked like laughing, what the mouth under that beard could do, what his shaved skin felt like, how his short hair looked shit without gel.
Ren shot a look at Gary. His face said nothing.
‘Billy Waites was Jean Transom’s one-three-seven,’ said Ren. ‘He was a source for her around Breckenridge, Frisco, Alma, Fairplay … and he was the last person who saw her the night she was killed.’
‘This guy ring any alarm bells up until now?’ said Monahan.
Ren’s heart pounded. ‘No. And he’s not ringing any alarm bells for me now.’
‘Really?’ said Monahan.
‘Obviously I was wary … in the beginning,’ said Ren. ‘But no … I am confident that Billy Waites has turned his life around.’
Monahan raised an eyebrow.
‘Why do you ask?’ said Ren.
‘OK – detectives from the Sheriff’s Office here were concerned Waites was serving alcohol to minors in the Brockton Filly. It seems he wasn’t paying too much attention to the IDs he was being shown and to what state the kids were in when they were leaving or planning to drive home.
‘They raided the place Friday night and, along with rounding up under-age drinkers, they found money in the till from one of the Val Pando robberies.’
‘How much?’ said Ren.
‘Not much,’ said Monahan. ‘Several hundred dollars.’
‘That could have come from anywhere,’ said Ren. ‘Do you have anything to say he has any connection with Val Pando?’
‘Not yet,’ said Monahan.
Ren frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ She glanced at Gary. His eyes were lit with anger.
‘I just mean not yet,’ said Warwick. ‘Mainly because of this –’ He lay down another photo.
It was a handsome Hispanic boy, late teens with huge, lost brown eyes.
Sweat was slowly soaking into Ren’s shirt. Where the tiny buttons closed at her chest, the fabric trembled. Her face was hot. Her throat felt closed over. Every part of her body seemed to be giving her away.
‘He is seventeen years old now,’ said Monahan.
Ren looked up at them. ‘But –’
‘When we took in the under-age kids from the Brockton Filly, there were about ten of them. Apparently this guy, who nobody knew, shows up and starts buying them all drinks. He had an extremely professional fake ID. All the kids were rounded up, brought here and searched for drugs, This guy has no drugs on him, but over a thousand dollars in cash. We ran it through NCIC and it was bait money from the Idaho Springs robbery.
‘We’re wondering if there is a connection there between him and Billy Waites.’
‘No,’ said Ren. ‘No.’
‘Then why did Billy run?’
‘He ran. Not long after the raid, he was gone,’ said Monahan.
