Harm's Reach

28

Ren went to the front door, checked it was Ben, and let him in.

‘Hey,’ he said.

‘Hey,’ said Ren.

He walked into the living room.

‘You’ve been working...’

‘Yup,’ said Ren. ‘What have you been doing?’

‘Thinking,’ he said. ‘I just drove around... then I called into Gary.’

Jesus Christ. I forget you are colleagues/friends. Please tell me that Gary Dettling assumes I have not told you I’m bipolar. Please tell me you did not say we had a fight.

‘Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything about us,’ said Ben.

‘Thank God,’ said Ren.

‘I’d never cross that line. Neither would Gary.’

I feel horrible now. ‘Ben, I’m sorry about earlier. I... really am.’

‘I’m sorry too.’

‘But I don’t think you have any reason to be,’ said Ren. ‘I didn’t like that you walked out, though... but I can see why.’

He held his arms open. ‘Come here.’

‘Are you sure?’ said Ren.

He laughed and hugged her. ‘We have no reason to fight,’ he said.

He held her against his chest. ‘I know,’ she said. Tell that to the psycho inside me.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Ren. ‘I really am.’

‘Hey,’ said Ben, pulling back. ‘I know you are. Me too.’ He held her face and kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Let’s go to bed.’

Ren woke up in the middle of the night, agitated, disoriented, stiff. Her first thoughts were all about Laura Flynn and second-trimester terminations. She remembered Ingrid Prince’s words about the surrogacy:

‘Nothing had changed between when we agreed to this and now.’

Was that true?

Ren grabbed her phone and typed in a reminder to go through the Princes and Laura Flynn’s lives over the previous six months.

Why am I so agitated?

She looked at the clock.

It’s five a.m. — that’s why. The biggest piece of shit of a time on the clock.

She switched off the phone, and turned around to Ben. He was fast asleep, smiling at something. He was a handsome, handsome man. She buried her head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

Warm and safe, warm and safe.

The office felt empty the following morning. There was an eerie silence in the hallway.

The entire building is frowning upon my lateness.

And walking slowly will not in any way salvage time or halt its passage.

She went into the bullpen. It was only when she got to her desk that she realized someone was sitting opposite it. In Colin Grabien’s chair.

Cur-sed chair.

‘Whoa,’ she said. ‘You scared the...’

Broad-shouldered, smartly-dressed, stars-in-a-cop-show good-looking. Dark, non-nerdy side-parted hair, blue eyes. Non-sexy-to-me-but-possibly-to-most-other-women-what-is-wrong-with-me.

He half-stood. ‘Hello,’ he said, reaching out his arm. Ren walked over and shook his hand.

Smells of Pasha de Cartier.

The scent of hotness. And a permanently fired-up boyfriend from my youth.

‘My youth’... grim.

‘You must be Ren.’

‘Despite all efforts to the contrary, unfortunately, yes, I must be Ren.’

‘I’m Cujo Chastain.’

What. The?

He smiled.

Very nice smile.

‘The guys told me to say that. My name isn’t Cujo Chastain...’

‘Stephen King,’ said Ren. ‘They’re so mean.’

‘I believe you think the chair is cursed.’

‘No, because only a crazy lady would think that, and I am sane... unless you will be working here for a period longer than a few hours, which is about as long as I can ever keep up that charade...’

He smiled. ‘I’m Everett.’

‘Oh, you were here while I was TDY’d to Glenwood Springs a few years back.’ Exiled on Temporary Duty after Gary worked out I was sleeping with a confidential informant, even though neither of us said it out loud... release breath.

‘Yes,’ said Everett. ‘I enjoyed my time here. You were missed, though.’

Aw. ‘So, where is everybody?’

‘Your Shark Bait Bandits have struck again. In Littleton — FirstBank, Chatfield and Wadsworth.’

‘Shit — did I miss that?’ said Ren. ‘Shit — did I forget to turn my phone on this morning?’ She had discovered the lateness of the hour from Annie’s wall clock.

‘D’oh.’

‘I have never done that before,’ said Ren. Not... accidentally. She took out her phone. Shit. She turned it on.

‘Well, anyway,’ said Everett, ‘I’m just here working on some horrible trail of financial irregularities that I am one hundred percent addicted to unraveling.’

‘You’re one of those,’ said Ren.

‘I am,’ said Everett. ‘I used to be a trader.’

‘Yet you passed a drug test...’

‘When you say passed...’ He smiled, then gave one of the best laughs.

Excellent power laugh. Four bursts, done. Superb. I like you, Everett Whateverett.

‘What’s your last name?’ said Ren.

‘King.’

‘Son of Stephen?’ said Ren.

‘Unless my mother has been hiding something for the past forty-one years... then I’m going to say no.’

‘It’s your real name,’ said Ren.

‘It is. I. Am. King.’

‘I’ll be yo’ queen if you know what I mean and...’ Please stop before you finish with ‘let’s do the wild thing’.

Everett looked at her.

‘Ooh,’ said Ren. ‘Tone-Lōc fan?’

‘Isn’t everyone?’

‘I didn’t mean that in that sense, by the way,’ said Ren.

‘Sexual harassment, day one... this is not looking good for you, Agent Bryce...’

‘I’m going to take a seat now. And try not to be myself for the next little while. But I need coffee first. Can I get you one?’

‘Yes, please. If you don’t mind.’

‘I do not mind.’

He’s a keeper, Gary Dettling.

Her phone beeped with seven missed calls; two from Gary, three from Robbie, two from Cliff. There were some ‘Where r u?’ texts thrown in too.

Shit.

She brought coffee back and set it on Everett’s desk. ‘Can I be so bold as to ask a favor?’ she said.

‘Sure,’ said Everett, ‘go ahead.’

‘I’m working on the Laura Flynn case — the shooting of the pregnant woman outside Conifer. Her employer is a multi-millionaire called Robert Prince. Investigators at the Sheriff’s Office are on this, I know, but... if you got through Gary Dettling’s net, I know you have to be good.’ She paused. ‘I was an anomaly.’

‘I’m listening...’

‘Could you look into Prince’s financials for me, see if there’s anything that might be amiss? He and his wife have been lie-telling and... I’m just not quite sure why.’

‘But you think it might be financial?’ said Everett.

‘Not exactly,’ said Ren. ‘It’s just, you know the way with a lot of wealthy people, the financial and personal are so tightly intertwined that an issue with one can completely unravel the other?’

‘I have certainly seen that,’ said Everett. ‘I’ll look into it...’

‘On the down low,’ said Ren.

‘Yes, Tone.’

She smiled. ‘I really appreciate it.’

When she got through her coffee, she was ready to call Gary.

‘Hi, Gary, it’s Ren — I’m sorry I missed your call earlier—’

‘Not good enough,’ said Gary.

‘Sorry,’ said Ren.

‘What the hell were you doing?’ said Gary.

‘I completely forgot. I couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night. I turned my phone off. I never do that.’

‘That’s not acceptable,’ said Gary.

‘I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. So... Bandits: Welton Street first, Glendale, Englewood, Conifer, then Littleton?’

‘Well, there’s nothing to say they’re working in a strict east/west order...’ said Gary.

‘Anyone injured?’ said Ren.

‘One customer with a broken nose, smashed with the butt of the gun.’

‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘Are you sure you don’t need me there?’

‘Yes,’ said Gary. ‘We’ve got it covered.’

‘OK,’ said Ren, ‘well, I’ll see you back at the ranch.’ She put the phone down.

Everett looked up from his computer.

‘You have not made your boss happy today...’ he said.

‘I have not,’ said Ren. Boyfriend last night, boss today.

‘And I can’t say I was too impressed with my coffee,’ said Everett.

Ren smiled. ‘OK... I really need to find something to redeem myself with this morning.’

Ren went into Gary’s office when he got back.

‘Just so you know, Janine and I will be going to The Darned Heart later to speak with Conor Gorman.’

Gary nodded.

‘And I’m working my butt off on the bandits...’ says Ren as an invisible tumbleweed rolls through the silence...‘I’m just sorry about earlier.’

Gary nodded. He looked down at his desk. ‘Ren,’ he said, ‘you might want to take a look at your shirt.’

She glanced down. Two buttons were gone from her gray shirt, showing most of her pink bra and the cleavage it was enthusiastically supporting.

Oh. Dear. God. ‘Shit.’

So much for redeeming myself.

She closed the door behind her and ran to the ladies’ room.

Please let there be another shirt here. Please.

She pulled open the door of her locker. There was a white shirt hanging in plastic.

Please let there be a nude bra here. Please.

She found one in a pile of other clothes.

Thank God, thank God.

She changed, then sat back down at her desk and texted Ben:

Ben replied right away.

He texted back.

Hmm.

Hide this jealous weirdness.

She texted back