Blood Loss

53

The plane landed at Denver airport and Ren ran. She found a bank of seats and sat down. She pulled out her laptop. Beside her, a mother leaned forward suddenly and picked up her son who had been whining on the floor in front of her. For a moment, Ren wondered if the woman thought she looked dangerous, with her black eye and air of panic, but she was focused only on her son. She stood the little boy in front of her, and held his shoulders.

She said very seriously, ‘You mustn’t pretend to be sick, just because you don’t want to be here. It is dangerous. What if you really were sick, and mama just thought you were pretending?’

The little boy stared at his feet.

‘Now, sit up here beside your mama, read your book.’

She smiled at Ren.

‘Beautifully done,’ said Ren.

The mother laughed. ‘He is a trying child.’

Ren went to YouTube. She put on her headphones and watched Shep Collier’s speech. She watched it again.

Nothing. What am I supposed to be hearing here, what am I supposed to be seeing?

She watched it again. She took off the headphones.

Nothing.

Ren drove down I-70 toward the office. She was thinking about Shep Collier. He was framed. He had clearly been stepping on toes.

And what about Mark Whaley? What had he done?

She dialed Gary’s cell.

‘Gary, it’s Ren. There’s something going on with Shep Collier, but I don’t know what. He stuck to his story, but it seems to me that he has no choice. He was dancing around something. I think he was implying that I should watch his press conference, but I did, several times, and I got nothing. He must be under surveillance. If I was listening in, everything he said was solid, it sounded like he was giving me nothing. But I think he was giving me something. I just … don’t know yet what that is.’

‘So, it was a wasted trip …’

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘I don’t think so. I’ve built up a trust with him … to some degree.’

‘That’s great, Ren.’ His voice was flat.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Ren dialed Colin’s cell phone. ‘Colin? It’s Ren. Will you come with me to MeesterBrandt headquarters on Monday?’

‘Why?’ said Colin.

‘I need your charm to talk to the boss.’

‘Well, it’s in no short supply,’ said Colin.

‘R-O-T-F-L,’ said Ren.

‘Why are you calling me now?’ said Colin.

‘Why not?’ said Ren.

‘Hey, hold on,’ said Colin. ‘Naomi wants to talk to you.’

‘Hey, girl,’ said Naomi. ‘We missed you the other night! Heard about your fender bender. Get your ass out here. You owe me. We’re in … where are we, Col?’

‘I can’t,’ said Ren. ‘I’ve got to-’

‘I’m not taking no for an answer,’ said Naomi.

‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to,’ said Ren. ‘I gotta go!’

She’s more nuts than me.

Ren’s phone beeped with a text: It’s Saturday night. Do you know where your tutu3 is?

Ren laughed and texted back. Tutu3 — love it. Am back.

Paul Louderback replied: Drinks it is!

Paul was sitting in a Larimer Street bar, with a lite beer in front of him.

‘Girl’s drink,’ said Ren.

Paul smiled. ‘Ouch. Your face is worse than I thought.’

‘I look like a thug.’

‘Let me get you a glass of champagne to counter that.’

‘Then I’ll look like a moll.’

‘Why I oughta …’ He called the waiter and ordered the drink.

Ren sat down. She filled him in on Shep Collier.

‘The thick plottens,’ said Paul.

Ren nodded. ‘It sure does.’ She could hear her cell phone vibrate. I bet that’s Ben.

She stared into her drink.

‘Where have you gone?’ said Paul.

She turned to him.

‘You look serious,’ he said.

‘Paul, I think you need to go back and work things out with Marianne.’

‘What?’ said Paul.

‘I hope I’m not being too blunt … ’ But I feel sorry for Marianne, I feel bad for being in on a secret that she isn’t.

‘But … I thought …’

Me and your protegees could share?

‘What did you think?’ said Ren.

‘I … don’t know,’ said Paul. ‘Maybe that you and me could try and … maybe we could work.’

The romance.

‘You and Marianne still love each other,’ said Ren. ‘It’s obvious.’ Her cry for help is echoing all the way to Denver.

Paul stared down at the table.

‘It sounds to me like Marianne only left you as a last resort.’

He looked up. ‘Maybe.’

Then how did you let it go so far? ‘It’s not too late, is it?’ said Ren.

‘Maybe not,’ said Paul. ‘I … I wasn’t there for her. I can see that now. Or the girls. They are spending more time with me now than they were when I was living with them. They have hours of my time in a row …’

‘And look how happy they are,’ said Ren. ‘At least with that part of it. Go call Marianne. You can work this out.’

‘What about her … new man?’ said Paul.

‘I think her old man is the one she wants,’ said Ren. ‘That old man is her husband. For better or worse …’

Paul said nothing.

‘Men need sex to feel loved,’ said Ren. ‘And a lot of women need to feel loved to have sex. I’m not one of them, but you get the picture. I think you thought I’d solve the sex end of things for you, and maybe Marianne thought her new man would solve the emotional end of things for her. We look elsewhere for the things we’re not getting at home …’

‘I think you’re being harsh on everyone with all that,’ said Paul. ‘I wasn’t just interested in you for sex.’

‘I actually know that,’ said Ren. ‘I don’t think you’re that much of an asshole. But, I also know that you were never really looking at me as a serious contender …’

‘And neither were you looking at me …’

‘That’s probably true,’ said Ren. Yet how foolish was I to let it muddy the waters for so long?

‘So,’ said Paul.

‘So,’ said Ren. ‘Without managing to do each other any great harm, we’re not really good for each other, are we? We’re in that strange gray area. But, despite being someone who I think is wonderful, well, I think you’re going to have to be someone else’s wonderful.’

She thought of the inscription on the little blue hardback.

‘But you are beautiful, Annie, and you are wonderful, and you are joyful.’

She smiled at Paul Louderback.

You can be someone else’s. I’d like to be someone’s Annie.