Time of Death

‘You told Mom and Dad that I was drinking. Two beers!’

‘Are you actually talking about—’

‘I’m talking about Beau!’ shouted Ren. ‘Why wasn’t it Beau that you told on?’ She held back tears, but her voice was cracking. ‘Why didn’t you tell them about Beau? Why didn’t you tell them he had been smoking shit every night? Why didn’t you say that he had a little bag of pills he carried around with him? You knew. I know you knew. So, fuck you. You didn’t over-ride him when he asked you to keep a secret. You over-rode me. And you were wrong. Hasn’t that ever entered your head? Ever? You were wrong. You picked the wrong fucking sibling to rat out.’

She slammed the phone down.

Glenn Buddy coughed.

Ren swung around. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘I just caught from “so, fuck you” onwards.’

‘Right…’ What did you hear? I can’t even remember what I said.

‘Do you always talk to your brother that way?’ said Glenn. ‘Was that your important call?’

‘There are extenuating circumstances.’

Glenn took a seat opposite her again. ‘Are you taking any of this seriously? I come here to talk to you about your close connection with a murdered judge and you take a personal call?’

‘I am taking everything seriously,’ said Ren. ‘This is very important. And so was that other call. You’ll just have to—’

‘Don’t tell me – trust you?’

Ren let out a breath.

‘I don’t have a lot of time, here,’ said Glenn. ‘I just want to know is there anything else you’re not telling me?’

‘No.’

‘Agent Bryce, you know the position I’m in here. I am investigating the death of a federal judge. You are with the FBI. And Cliff James was the best man at my wedding. Do you see where I’m at?’

Oh, God, I do. ‘I understand, Glenn. I really do. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your position.’

My own, however, is a different story…

39

One week earlier

By a stand of trees on a quiet Genesee road, Douglas Hammond was parked in his green BMW. Ren jogged up to the passenger door. Hammond unlocked the door and she sat in.

‘Thanks for coming,’ said Hammond.

Jesus, ‘Thanks for coming?’

He looked at her expression. ‘Well, you might not have.’

‘Do you really think so?’

Their breaths were white in the cold air. Hammond’s hairline was dotted with tiny beads of sweat.

‘So,’ she said. ‘Why am I here?’

‘I am highly recommending that you give up your psych files,’ said Hammond.

Ren stared at him. ‘How do you know—’

‘Just do it,’ said Hammond. ‘Just back down.’

‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because I am meeting you on a dark road in the middle of the night to tell you to.’

‘You don’t even know me,’ said Ren.

‘I asked around.’

‘And?’

‘You don’t back down,’ said Hammond.

‘When I have no reason to, no,’ said Ren.

‘Trust me, you have every reason to.’

‘What are you talking about? What could possibly interest you in those files?’

Hammond looked at her. ‘You’re shivering,’ he said. ‘Are you cold?’

Ren frowned. ‘Yes.’

He glanced at the heating dial, but didn’t move. Ren turned on the heating, blasting hot air from a loud fan.

For a moment, they sat in silence.

‘I didn’t just hear that you wouldn’t back down…There was a lot more to hear about Agent Ren Bryce.’

Ren’s anger was spiking, but she held her hands still and she kept her breathing under control. And it didn’t quite work. ‘I am sorry,’ said Ren, her voice quickly rising, ‘but I have no clue what the point of all this is. It is passive/aggressive bullshit. You have power, Your Honor, you don’t need to get cryptic with me. You shouldn’t need something to get an extra little kick. I’ve driven all the way out here in the pitch dark.’

Hammond was staring straight ahead.

You smug prick. She turned and grabbed the door handle.

‘Agent Bryce, please.’

She looked back at him. Holy shit. The fear in his eyes was stunning. Before Ren had time to react, he gripped her forearm and pulled her close. She could feel his hot breath in her ear. ‘You,’ he said, his voice barely audible, ‘you don’t know what you’re getting involved in.’

‘What the hell?’ said Ren, pulling her arm from his grip.

Hammond let out a breath. ‘I’m getting the sense that within twenty-four hours, your file will be turned over to the taint team.’

‘Don’t trust your senses.’

‘Do it, Agent Bryce. Or maybe I’ll get your boss to back off. He might be interested in taking a look at your file.’ He was half-turned away from her, as if trying to physically end the conversation. She realized Hammond was shaking, and it had nothing to do with being cold.

‘Why didn’t you just call me instead of bringing me all the way out here?’ said Ren.

Headlights struck up on the road behind them. Hammond jumped. His left arm seemed to spasm. Ren glanced down at it. He was holding his cell phone. He jerked it quickly toward her. There was a text message on the screen:

this is not just about the psych 345

He hit delete. Ren opened her mouth to speak, but when she looked into Hammond’s eyes – black with fear – she stopped dead.

This is not just about the psych 345? WTF?

40

Ren sat in a window seat on the flight to Nogales. Ren liked aisle seats, but today she was wedged in by a skinny child with a giant backpack at his feet. He was playing a Nintendo DS with the sound on. Every beep was Chinese water torture. Ren glanced down at him. He gave her an adorable smile and raised the console a little to show he was doing well.

Bless your heart.

A wave of sadness swept over her – the boy was about eight years old, the same age Ren had been when she had the only childhood memory of not feeling quite right. In the middle of a burst of wonderful, uninhibited laughter with Matt, a thought had flashed into Ren’s mind: ‘But are you really laughing?’

At the time, that thought had frightened her. And she buried it away. Every now and then, she would remember it and it still creeped her out. ‘But are you really laughing?’ It was like a voice