Killing Ways

22

Ren sat at her desk the next morning pulling her drawer open and closed at intervals to refill her glass from a carton of pineapple juice. Everett was slipping her cups of ice from the kitchen.

‘Lord have mercy,’ said Ren to no one in particular.

Her cell phone rang.

She picked up.

‘Is this Special Agent Ren Bryce?’ said the voice.

Male, older, efficient.

‘Yes,’ said Ren.

‘My name is David White — I got a message from my landlord about CCTV footage from his business in relation to the Hope Coulson murder investigation. As I believe he told you, his business was closed down two weeks prior to her disappearance, so he had no video operational on the Friday night in question. However, I was renting the upstairs apartment at that time. This may not be significant, but I wanted to let you know that I was disturbed that night at about two a.m. by people walking by. I looked out the window — there were three of them — two young women and a man. One of the women had stopped to throw up in the gutter. She was very drunk. So was the guy — he seemed to be her boyfriend. The other woman didn’t seem quite so drunk. When my landlord called about all this and I told him, he said to look at the Hope Coulson case online. And she was definitely the woman I saw throwing up. And the photograph of the fiancé — that was definitely the guy. The other woman — I didn’t get a good look at her. She was blonde, though, thin, quite short.’

Oh. My. God. Why was Jonathan Briar hiding this?

‘Did you hear them speaking?’ said Ren.

‘No — they were making a lot of noise, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.’

‘Did they stay there for long?’ said Ren.

‘Ten minutes at the most.’

‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘Thank you for your call, Mr White — if you would kindly leave me your details, that would be great.’

‘Yes — please call me at any time if you have any more questions. And if I remember anything else, I’ll call you.’

‘Thank you.’

Ren took his details, and put the phone down. ‘Looks like Jonathan Briar and Hope Coulson walked home with a mystery lady friend two weeks before Hope disappeared. The question is, was he too hammered to remember that fact? Or is this the lie I was picking up on?’

‘Well, maybe his lawyer will be able to enlighten you,’ said Everett.

‘Is that a shot across the bow or are you just happy to... be like Gary?’ said Ren.

‘Ouch,’ said Everett. ‘But, behave, bad girl. Remember that safety net...’

Ren smiled. Everett shook his head slowly. One minute later her phone beeped with a text. It was from Everett — no words, just the See No Evil Hear No Evil Speak No Evil monkeys.

I love emoticons!

Jonathan Briar did not take long to tell Ren what he left out of his previous endless conversations with law enforcement. He seemed happier to do it in his apartment alone, than in Safe Streets, or his lawyer’s office, or with anyone else.

‘So, you and Hope had a threesome two weeks before she was killed...’ said Ren.

You total fuckwit.

‘I didn’t think it was important...’ said Jonathan. ‘We’re, you know, respectable people, I didn’t want this getting out, making it into the newspapers. It was the only time. I know how people can view people’s “lifestyles”... I thought they might judge Hope, judge both of us, not help with the searches. I’ve seen crime documentaries...’

‘Then haven’t you also seen how people withholding evidence can screw things up?’ said Ren.

‘I know,’ said Jonathan. ‘I’m sorry. But Hope... she was the beautiful kindergarten teacher that everyone fell for. I didn’t want to shatter that illusion — not because of one threesome. Hope seemed so innocent to everyone. I mean... Hope was innocent. This didn’t change that. She was amazing, she was Hope, I loved her, but... she wasn’t, like, perfect, the way everyone thought.’

‘I need you to understand, Jonathan, that the media does what the media does,’ said Ren. ‘And we do something entirely different. We think about each victim as a person who did not deserve to die, and their killer as someone who does not deserve to be out on the streets. That’s it. Whether you’re a kindergarten teacher or an internet troll, we’re viewing you the same way.’

‘But I figured if you knew stuff about her, then she might seem like some skank to you and you wouldn’t care—’

‘That’s absolutely not the case,’ said Ren. ‘I simply don’t see women as skanks.’ Unless they are actively trying to steal my man.

‘I thought about telling you, but then there were prostitutes mentioned in the newspapers and I figured you’d, like, put Hope in there with them—’

‘Two of the victims were prostitutes, yes,’ said Ren, ‘but they are two of four photos on my wall that I look at every day when I sit at my desk. Each woman is as important as the next.’ She paused. ‘So, how did this threesome happen?’

‘We picked up a girl at a bar, we took her back to our apartment, like, I mean, invited her back...’ He shrugged.

‘This was at the Irish Hound?’ said Ren.

‘Yes.’

‘And...?’ said Ren.

‘Well, that’s it,’ said Jonathan. ‘We were all pretty wasted, we smoked some pot back at the apartment, we had sex, the girl left some time in the middle of the night. I can’t remember much of the details.’

‘Did she give you her name?’ said Ren.

‘Yes,’ said Jonathan. ‘It was a funny name, like Day-something, Daisy maybe? But not Daisy.’

‘Can you describe her for me?’ said Ren.

‘Kind of raggedy blonde hair, skinny, big eyes, Southern accent, she didn’t tell us where she was from, she was kind of... quiet I guess. Kind of mellow.’

‘Was she alone when you met her in the bar?’ said Ren.

‘I think so,’ said Jonathan. ‘She said she was from out of town, here on business. But she was kind of kidding, because she didn’t look like a business lady.’

‘What happened during the threesome?’ said Ren.

He looked like he wanted to curl up in a ball.

‘Like, what do you mean?’ said Jonathan.

‘Did anything strange happen?’ said Ren.

He shrugged. ‘Not really... I don’t know. I mean, it was my first time having a threesome.’

Who paid the most attention to whom? ‘Did you have sex with the woman?’

‘Depends on what you mean...’

‘Did you have penetrative sex?’ said Ren.

‘No. She didn’t want me to.’

‘Hope didn’t want you to?’ said Ren.

‘No — the girl,’ said Jonathan.

‘So,’ said Ren, ‘was she paying more attention to Hope than you?’

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Was there any violence involved?’ said Ren.

‘No.’

‘How did you get talking to the girl in the first place?’ said Ren. ‘Who approached whom?’

‘Well, she was at the bar when Hope went up to order drinks. I was in the men’s room. I met a friend of mine; I was gone a long time. I think the girl told Hope her T-shirt was cool; they started talking. When I came back, the girl definitely looked a little pissed, like I was the one intruding... then a while later, she came over to our table, just sat down, without really asking if she could, but we didn’t mind that. We had a couple more drinks...’

‘What did you talk about?’ said Ren.

‘It was drunken talk, I guess,’ said Jonathan. ‘Music, bands, nights we partied...’ His eyes went wide. ‘Do you think this has something to do with what happened to Hope?’

‘We’re taking in as much information as we can,’ said Ren, ‘and we’re focusing on anything out of the ordinary. This girl was a stranger who came into your lives not long before Hope’s disappearance, so it might be significant. We won’t know right away. Is there anything else you can think of?’

‘No,’ said Jonathan. He paused. ‘There was something about her that was a bit wild.’

‘Could you define that for me?’ said Ren.

‘Not really, no.’

Jesus.

‘Did you exchange phone numbers with her?’ said Ren.

‘Well, I didn’t. I don’t know about Hope. I doubt it. Denver PD asked me to look through her cell-phone records to see if there were names or numbers I didn’t recognize. There were a few, but I don’t know if any of them was her.’

‘Did you know or get the sense this girl might have had a boyfriend?’ said Ren.

Jonathan shrugged. ‘She didn’t say she did, and, like I said, she was alone in the bar.’

‘OK, well if anything else comes to you about her...’ said Ren.

Jonathan sat forward. ‘Do you think she could be the killer, a tiny little thing like her? She was like five feet tall.’

Actually, she sounds like a potential victim.

Could the killer have scored a two-for-one?