Harm's Reach

15

Robbie knocked on Delores Ward’s door.

‘Solid,’ he said.

‘Important to note...’ said Ren. ‘Door of faux-nun: solid. Check.’

Robbie gave her a patient look.

They could hear the shuffle of feet from inside.

‘Slippers: cozy,’ said Ren.

Delores Ward looked out the small window and they raised their badges. She let them in. The room was all autumn shades of timber, upholstery, fabric, and ornaments. It was neat and tidy. One miniature white fan in the corner was struggling to cool hot air that smelled of damp and wintergreen.

It was hard to know: were the cabin’s dimensions a form of self-denial, or like the drawing tight of a comfort blanket — the world was vast, the abbey imposing; the cabin, just right?

Ren was drawn to the wall covered with dozens of old postcards.

‘How can I help you?’ said Delores.

Let me tear the postcards from your wall! Let me know who wrote to you, Delores Ward. Who did you mean something to, who helped to brighten your little home with four-by-six windows onto the world?

‘We’re here to ask you a few questions about yesterday,’ said Ren. She and Robbie had moved to the long window that overlooked the boundary between the abbey and the ranch.

‘Please take a seat,’ said Delores. ‘I’ll make us some coffee.’

Ren and Robbie sat on the brown sofa underneath the window.

Delores went to the sink and began taking down cups, setting them on a tray. Her movements were slow and almost soundless. She was a woman blessed with good genes. Her skin had barely slackened and any lines she had were concentrated around her eyes. She had short hair in shades of gray, cut as if it were just the practical thing to do, no different to clipping her fingernails.

She poured coffee into two mugs and was about to carry the tray to the table, when Robbie jumped up and did it for her.

‘Thank you,’ she said. She smiled. Robbie drew smiles from people in the same way babies did.

Delores pulled up a stool in front of them.

‘Please, sit here,’ said Ren, standing up.

‘No, no,’ said Delores. ‘I’m fine right here.’

Ren picked up her coffee.

No cookies. And I’m starving. Focus.

‘Now, what can I help you with?’ said Delores.

‘That’s ranch property right through there — at the other side of those trees,’ said Ren.

‘Yes,’ said Delores. ‘There would have been more trees if not for the Hayman fire, ten years back. It thinned out a lot of them.’ She paused. ‘It turns out, this is ranch property too.’

‘I know,’ said Ren, ‘we’re not here about that.’

‘Good!’ said Delores. ‘I’m tired of the whole thing.’

‘Boundary issues are no fun,’ said Ren. ‘But I heard the Faules have been quite understanding.’

Delores raised her eyebrows. ‘They’re playing the long game.’ She paused. ‘They’ve probably put my details into a death clock.’

‘How do you even know what a death clock is?’ said Ren, laughing.

‘Oh, one of the kids from the ranch told me one time,’ said Delores. ‘Sometimes they come to dinner. You never know what they’ll come out with.’

‘We were wondering if you saw anyone hanging around the vehicles over there yesterday around midday?’ said Ren.

‘My eyesight is not what it used to be,’ said Delores, ‘but I know that I heard some voices... male, hard to say what age, though.’

‘Would you have any idea what time that was at?’ said Ren.

‘That could have been anywhere between ten and noon... I went to the chapel then.’

‘Is there anything you could think of that might narrow that timeframe down?’ said Ren. ‘Were you listening to a particular show on the radio, was it before or after you ate your breakfast?’

‘Oh, I have my breakfast at six a.m., sweetheart,’ said Delores.

‘Good for you,’ said Ren.

‘I can’t think of anything in particular that would narrow the time down, no,’ said Delores.

‘Did you take a coffee break?’ said Ren. From what, I don’t know...

‘No,’ said Delores. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.’

‘That’s OK,’ said Ren. ‘Do you see much of the kids from the ranch, apart from when they stop by the abbey?’

‘From time to time,’ said Delores. ‘They’re the type of kids who are drawn to boundaries...’

‘And do they ever cross them?’ said Robbie.

‘Not that I’m aware of,’ said Delores. ‘But, of course, that means nothing. I sleep with the blinds down, the door locked, my eye mask on and my earplugs in. I’m guessing were these kids to make a move, it would be under cover of darkness.’

‘Well, not necessarily,’ said Ren. ‘Did you notice anything yesterday? Were there any kids around?’

‘No,’ said Delores, ‘not that I saw.’ She paused. ‘I heard about that poor lady. How cruel life is.’

‘You believe that life is cruel...’ said Robbie.

Boldly go, Robbie.

‘Oh, no,’ said Delores. ‘I should have said how cruel life can be. I do believe that life can be cruel. I’m sure you see evidence of that every day. I pray for the world every single day.’

‘Yes, it can be dark out there,’ said Ren. She took out her card and placed it on the table. Robbie did the same.

‘If anything occurs to you,’ said Robbie, ‘please call either of us.’

‘Thank you so much for the coffee,’ said Ren.

Delores picked up the cards. ‘Good luck with your investigation.’

Ren and Robbie made their way to the Jeep.

‘She is very sad about the eyes,’ said Ren. ‘I wonder what “cruel life” she ran away from.’

‘Maybe it was more about the life she ran away to,’ said Robbie. ‘Don’t you ever want to get away from everything? It’s all in-your-face, technology, being bombarded with images, scrolling bars, banner ads, commercials that start playing when you’re trying to watch the news and it’s just this... assault.’

‘Oh, I agree,’ said Ren. ‘And our job is helped by technology. The only thing I will say is that at least we’re of the generation that might scrape through without the utter obsession with it that teenagers have now.’

Robbie shrugged.

‘It’s the reach that technology has,’ said Ren. ‘If it was a horror movie, it would be like an octopus that has millions of tentacles — a megapus? — a creature that goes into every single home on the planet and sits down right in the middle of the hallway. Then, its tentacles begin to slide out and crawl into every room, up onto the sofa, right between people, into their hands, up onto the dinner table, into their beds, sometimes right up their asses. And then, it sucks and sucks and sucks the lifeblood out of them. And then it does a big shit right there in the hallway, but no one can get near it to clean it up. And no one can eliminate the stink. Or the hideous creature. And then they realize that they can’t imagine a time without him. And then they realize, “Hold on a second, I don’t even have a life any more. I don’t have a life to save — he’s got us all. So if the creature goes, well, we’re all gone too.” And so he stays and feeds and shits.’

Robbie stopped walking. ‘I think that might just be the most depressing thing you have ever said to me.’

‘So to answer your question,’ said Ren, ‘yes, I could totally see myself moving into a remote cabin and cutting myself off from the world. I have one million reasons. I might go back, see does her sofa fold out...’

Robbie smiled. ‘Me too.’

‘See, you get it,’ said Ren.

You are a sweet, innocent soul.

Ren and Robbie arrived back at Janine’s office just after lunch.

‘Well, speaking to the Faules and Delores Ward has thrown the investigation wide open...’ said Ren.

‘Really?’ said Janine. Then she looked up at Ren. ‘Ah... you got nothing.’

‘Yet, fine lady, yet!’ said Ren. ‘Can I grab a desk?’

‘Sure — go ahead,’ said Janine.

Ren took her laptop from her bag. ‘Now...’ She did a search on Kenneth and Kristen Faule. Robbie sat beside her.

‘OK,’ she said, ‘I have not found a trail of slaughtered children... goddammit.’

He smiled.

‘The closest the Faules have been to badness was back in 2002 when Kenneth Faule’s ex-Bronco’s-teammate and best bud, Derrick Charles, allegedly went off the rails, beat the crap out of his wife, strangled her, and shot their two children...’

‘Ooh, I read about that,’ said Janine.

‘Well, he’s in Stateville,’ said Ren, ‘but is adamant he’s innocent and that he was framed. Kenneth Faule still visits him twice a year, good Christian that he is.’

‘Bet you’re thinking that Faule framed him, aren’t you?’ said Robbie.

‘Well, I was,’ said Ren, ‘until I read the next bit... Faule says he mounted a campaign to raise finances for Derrick Charles’ appeal. Apparently, Charles is one of those broke playas; the prosecution used his financial troubles against him at trial... suggested his wife confronted him about his gambling and he lost it.’

Ren’s cell phone rang.

‘Gary,’ she said.

‘Ren,’ said Gary, ‘are you alone?’

‘I can be,’ she said, standing up.

She turned back to Robbie and Janine. ‘Talk among yourselves...’

She walked into the hallway.

‘Are you on your way back?’ said Gary.

‘No, I’m in Golden... Kohler’s having a briefing at six o’clock.’

‘You know you have an appointment with Dr Lone after work,’ said Gary.

My eyes are now alight. I can feel them. They would burn through you if you were here. Hold your tongue. Hold it.

‘Sometimes I get the feeling you might be looking for cases to take you away from your appointments,’ said Gary.

‘OK, it was me,’ said Ren. ‘I robbed the bank and murdered the girl...’ Stop now. Gary does not joke about your mental health.

‘Ren, I shouldn’t have to tell you—’

‘You’re right, Gary.’ You shouldn’t fucking have to tell me. Her heart was suddenly pounding. ‘I’m sorry,’ said Ren, ‘but would it be OK if you left my treatment in my hands? Can you just trust that I’m doing this?’

There was a lengthy pause. ‘OK, Ren. I will.’

Ren was bound by Gary to attend a psychiatrist and to take medication. Gary had taken away her fast pass for the rollercoaster ride. And he monitored with a height restriction sign — she couldn’t be too high or too low. She had to bang her head on it.

Over and over.