Killing Ways

50

Ren called the Douglas County Sheriff’s Office on the drive to Safe Streets.

‘Could I speak with Undersheriff Rodeal?’ she said. ‘It’s Ren Bryce, Safe Streets.’

Rodeal came on the line. ‘Hey, Ren.’

‘Sorry, Cole — but what the FUCK?’

‘Ren? Excuse me? I could say the same to you.’

‘You were handling that Jane Doe in Sedalia,’ said Ren. ‘And you didn’t run her DNA?’

‘What?’

‘She wasn’t entered into the system, because if she was, she would have come up as a familial match with her son, Duke Fucking Rawlins. That was his mama, Rodeal. We could have had that connection.’

‘Ren, you wouldn’t have got the results back by now, even if I had run it.’

‘I might have!’ said Ren.

‘Well, not judging by our current backlogs, no you would not.’

‘Still! That’s a pretty big thing to overlook.’

‘Are you calling me to give me a talk on how to carry out my job, Agent?’

‘No! I’m just mad.’

‘Well, go be mad to someone else about it.’

‘Thanks for taking my call.’

‘Any time.’

Ren called Janine to tell her about what had happened with Dainty Farraday. She got her voicemail.

‘Call me... I have crazy news about Chloe Farraday. She nearly killed me.’

Her phone rang. Gary.

Deep breath.

‘Ren, just to let you know, I’m taking Karen to an appointment this morning. I’ll be back in the afternoon.’

‘No problem,’ said Ren.

‘Just tell everyone I’m—’

‘No need to say another word,’ said Ren. ‘See you this afternoon.’

I hope Karen is OK.

When she got into Safe Streets, she held a briefing and, with Joe, went through everything they had found out in Texas, and the events of the morning with Dainty Farraday. Ren left out the part about Dainty taking her gun.

‘We’re issuing a BOLO for Chloe “Dainty” Farraday,’ said Ren. ‘She should be considered armed and dangerous. She is twenty-six years old, Caucasian, blonde hair, green eyes, one hundred pounds soaking wet. She speaks with a strong Texas accent. We have no recent photo of her. She is a screwed-up, lost-and-crazy-looking mess. I have no idea how she will react to what happened today... run to her man or run from him: love him more or strangle him with her bare hands. There is something feral about Dainty Farraday. She was once the privileged child of a successful father and born-again-Christian mother, whose life went to shit in a spectacular way when her mother got hooked on heroin again. And she’s just found out she’s been sleeping with her half-brother. She looked unhinged when I told her, but I’m not sure she looked particularly hinged from the get-go.

‘She’s been living in an apartment owned by a man called Benny Jakes, who apparently has no idea what’s going on. We don’t know exactly what Dainty Farraday knew about what Duke Rawlins has been doing — if she operated as his accomplice in some way. But when we showed Jonathan Briar her photo, he confirmed that she was the girl he and Hope Coulson had a threesome with. Everett emailed the photo to Manny’s bar, and they’ve confirmed Dainty as one of the singers who had performed on the night that Carrie Longman was there. She sang that song; those are her lyrics. And, apparently, the song title was “Croon On, Motherfucker”, and was about her father, so no love lost there. That poor man.

‘We also need to be aware that, if she is Rawlins’ accomplice, and she’s drawn us her way, he is likely to dump her... i.e. kill her. She, however, probably has no clue that this is what lies ahead for her.’

Gary arrived in after lunch and called Ren into his office.

‘I’m setting a world record here,’ he said.

Oh, Jesus. Blind fury.

He slammed his hands onto the desk.

‘Where do I start? This morning, heading to an apartment building alone...’

‘But—’

‘And, not only that, but ripping Rodeal a new one? Are you out of your mind?’

‘So, let me get this straight,’ said Ren. ‘You called me in here to shout at me... for shouting at someone else because it’s unprofessional.’

‘I’m not shouting—’

‘Yes, you are. Maybe I didn’t think I was shouting either...’

‘Ren, so help me God, if you turn one more admonishment around to make you the victim, I swear I will fire you right there and then.’

‘Gary — Douglas County fucked up! They didn’t run Wanda Rawlins’ DNA through the system—’

‘It wouldn’t have mattered! You know that! Let it go. The lab wouldn’t have processed it in time.’

‘But still—’

He sat back in his chair, flung his pen across the room. ‘Just... just...’

‘Sorry, but that was unprofessional of Rodeal...’

Gary was struggling to maintain his composure.

‘From the woman who had a knife pulled on her today?’ said Gary. ‘Jesus Christ.’ He stood up. ‘Do you know something? Do you know what’s happened here? I’ve taken my eye off the ball and I have found myself riding the Ren Bryce rollercoaster again. It’s a fucking nightmare ride! Get out of my office.’

Ren walked down the hallway, tears stinging her eyes. Everett walked toward her. They stopped.

‘The shouting that time?’ she said. ‘That was for me.’

‘Yikes,’ said Everett. ‘I couldn’t hear what he said, but... I think I got the gist. You’re up for Employee of the Month?’

Ren laughed and cried at the same time.

Everett squeezed her arm. ‘Hang in there. Do what he wants. And don’t go chasing skanks or serial killers or waterfalls on your own, girlfriend. What has gotten into you?’

‘Oh, you don’t know me long enough — that’s all.’

Ren went into the bullpen. ‘Where’s Janine?’

‘Doesn’t she have a day off?’ said Everett.

‘No — that was yesterday,’ said Ren. ‘She was going to hang out with her friend, Terri. Has Terri been on any nights out you were on?’

‘No,’ said Everett. ‘Why?’

‘She’s just a little... like a secret friend. I don’t know — it’s weird.’

‘It’s probably just different friends from different worlds,’ said Everett.

But what if it’s something sinister? ‘You know there’s a killer out there...’ She tried to laugh.

‘Yes, and Janine has befriended her, of course...’ said Everett.

Ren’s heart started to pound. Janine is tiny and breakable and Duke Rawlins’ type. Without the blonde hair. But Carrie Longman was a brunette... Stop.

She went into the conference room, called Janine, and got her voicemail again. ‘Hey, now Gary is trying to kill me too. Call me.’

Ren went back in to Gary. ‘Sorry to bother you again,’ she said, ‘but do you know the whereabouts of one Detective Janine Hooks?’

‘No,’ said Gary.

‘But—’

‘Text her,’ said Gary.

‘I have, and I’ve left her voicemails.’

‘How long have you been trying to get a hold of her?’

‘A few times...’

Gary looked up. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have any more information for you.’

I have a really bad feeling about this. You will sound nuts if you say that out loud.

‘Thanks!’ said Ren. Bright and breezy.

Ren sat at her desk, and went through all the case files again. She started picturing the autopsy photos. And then Janine’s face on her Wall of Horrors.

Her stomach turned.

Stop.

Janine’s personal effects.

She tried Janine again, left a voicemail.

Do. Not. Panic.

Dainty Farraday’s knife. Knives. Plural.

Stop.

Janine’s memorial service.

Duke Rawlins’ accomplices. He will have more. Multiple accomplices. Terri? Could she really be someone else? Dainty? The sister, Robin, back from London?

That’s nuts.

But... what if it’s not?

Work, go home, make dinner, relax. Jesus.

Janine — where are you?

Her heart started to pound.