Blood Loss

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.’

‘The poor thing,’ said Ren.

‘There’s no chapter in the parenting manual for this,’ said Cathy. ‘I’m sure you’re thinking I should be forcing her to talk about this — to someone, even if it’s not us. But she’s already been taken somewhere against her will. Her father has … died. She’s had no control over anything, so I’m reluctant to take any more control away from her. She was a sensitive little girl before this ever happened …’

‘We understand that Laurie has been through a lot,’ said Ren. But where was she? Who was with her? What did she see? Who brought her to Kennington? Could someone have threatened her into silence?

‘But, she will have to talk to Sylvie Ross very soon,’ said Ren. ‘Agent Ross is the child forensic interviewer who spoke with Leo after the abduction. She’s wonderful with children, and she understands how to talk to a child who has been through a trauma.’

‘I’ll talk to Laurie,’ said Cathy. ‘I’ll try.’

‘And the black sedan …’ said Ren.

‘All I know is that it was parked about five houses down from here, but across the street.’

‘And apart from the neighbor who came to you,’ said Ren, ‘did you talk to any of the owners of the houses near where it was parked?’

‘Not all of them,’ said Cathy. ‘Should we be worried about this?’

‘It could be a coincidence,’ said Ren. ‘We have people out there now canvassing the neighborhood. Maybe someone was visiting with someone. Maybe it was nothing to do with you. Obviously, everyone is on high alert with what you’ve been through, so it’s easy to jump to conclusions.’

‘Yes,’ said Cathy. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s just … it’s making me feel … that maybe there’s something more to all this …’

‘Like what?’ said Ren.

‘I don’t know,’ said Cathy. ‘It’s this whole thing … I’m just not sure about any of it. Mark had his problems. But what happened with the sitter, him taking Laurie too? When things were bad, I’m sure there were so many times he dreamed of taking Laurie from me and he didn’t,’ she said. ‘I know you saw me losing it with him, but I don’t … I didn’t feel those things for him, not really. It was just years of built-up pain, I guess. Now he’s gone, and it’s … it’s devastating.’

‘Did you ever think he was capable of something like this?’ said Ren.

‘Sometimes … sometimes I think that all along, alcohol was … maybe more a kind of tool to block out his demons. Maybe when the alcohol was gone from his life, the demons could roam free. Or a new addiction replaced it? Maybe sex addiction …?’

Sex addiction, the manufactured get-out-of-jail free card.

‘So, what should we do about the car if it comes back?’ said Cathy.

‘If you see it, try to take down the license plate number. We’re going to go talk to the neighbors. And if there’s anything else, call me.’ She handed Cathy her card. ‘Any time. The same goes for Laurie.’

Ren and Robbie walked back to the car.

‘Sex addiction: give me a break,’ said Ren.

‘It’s a psychiatric condition,’ said Robbie.

‘And the winner of the world’s most convenient psychiatric disorder ever goes to …’

‘But-’ said Robbie.

‘And the winner of the award for the only psychiatric disorder a man would gladly suffer from, is …’ said Ren.

‘It ruins people’s lives,’ said Robbie.

‘I’m not disputing that infidelity ruins lives,’ said Ren.

‘Well, how do you explain men throwing away their careers by their philandering or porn addiction or whatever?’ said Robbie.

‘Because it’s amazing!’ said Ren. ‘Not because they have some mental illness. If they didn’t want to have sex, that would be a mental illness. I think non-addiction to sex should be classified as a mental illness.’

Oh shit. Robbie is a virgin.

‘The addict has to want to get help,’ said Robbie.

‘But who wants to be stopped from having sex with someone?’ said Ren.

‘We’ll agree to disagree,’ said Robbie.

‘You sound like you’re taking this personally,’ said Ren.

‘I’m obviously not,’ said Robbie.

‘Well, who knows what might happen when you get a taste for it.’

Robbie stopped. ‘I actually found that really insensitive, Ren.’

‘Oh my God, Robbie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t at all mean it that way. I just … I’m sorry.’

‘It’s OK, but … maybe … not everything has to be so light-hearted.’

Ren’s phone beeped with a text. Ben Rader.

Agent down(town). Agent down(town).

Ren replied: Your place: 6? Can’t stay, though …

Ben replied: Cheap.

Ren replied: Nasty.

Ben replied: Perfect.

Who wants to be stopped from having sex with someone? And why can’t everything be light-hearted?