Killing Ways

52

Ren left Janine’s apartment and locked the door behind her. She drove to Woody’s and parked outside.

Why am I even doing this? I know she’s not here.

She sucked in a breath, suddenly overwhelmed by Janine’s cell phone in her hand, a rock-solid reminder that she was unable to do anything to locate her. Cell phones were strange objects — turned off, left behind, diverted... they stripped people of power in a way a regular phone never had. Everyone had their cell phone with them.

Didn’t they?

Where are you?

Ren sat at a table in Woody’s.

What am I supposed to do now? Maybe I’m losing it. She’s probably fine.

A cheery server came over to Ren.

‘Hey, there. What can I get you?’ she said.

I might as well eat. I’m here now. ‘Just an order of Jalapeño poppers and a Coke. Thank you.’

‘You bet.’

Ren scrolled again through Janine’s phone.

I’m not reading the texts — that’s wrong. But, then... they could explain a sudden absence, the fleeing, the leaving shit behind.

There were epic text exchanges between Ren and Janine... they were the bulk of the texts. There were more to different people. But none to Terri.

Weird. Unless Janine was protecting her privacy. Unless she was just deleting sensitive exchanges. But then, she hadn’t wiped the sensitive exchanges with me. And we’re closer.

Maybe Terri was having some kind of problems.

Privacy! The Privacy of Lunatics Act. Eating disorder! Maybe she met Terri at a support group. That’s why it seemed so covert.

Ren looked at her contact details. Terri’s address was there — under her first name only — ten minutes away.

Oh, thank God. I’ll do a drive-by, if I see Janine there, I’ll keep going.

Ren got up to leave and met the server walking towards her with her orders. She slapped fifteen dollars on the tray, took the Coke, said thank you and left.

Ren pulled into Terri’s street. It was quiet, lined with ranch houses in various states of disrepair. Terri’s was one of the better ones, nothing dazzling, nothing shabby. There was no car outside. Ren went up the path. She rang the doorbell.

What the hell do I say if she comes to the door?

There was no answer. She looked in the small window.

Her stomach sank.

This house does not look lived in. Nothing on the walls. Nothing under the stairs. She could see down the hallway that there was nothing on the kitchen counter.

Ren ran to the living-room window.

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

It was entirely empty. There was absolutely nothing in the room.

Terri no longer lives at this address. She may never have.

She’s Duke Rawlins’ accomplice. She’s Dainty Farraday. Or her sister. Or someone else entirely. Oh. My. God. Janine doesn’t know I found Dainty today. Janine has never seen the Farraday twins’ photos. Not the recent ones.

Ren ran to the neighbor’s house. She hammered on the screen door, held up her creds. A woman in her thirties came to the door, tentatively. She studied the badge. She opened up.

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘I’m Special Agent Ren Bryce from Denver Safe Streets. I want to ask you about the woman next door... Terri...’ She paused. ‘I don’t know her last name.’ I have no fucking idea. Jesus Christ.

The woman looked surprised. ‘No one lives next door. Not for at least two years.’

Everything in Ren’s body felt like it was plunging, melting, breaking, shattering.

‘Terri...?’ said Ren. ‘There’s definitely not a Terri next door. Are you sure?’

‘Yes,’ said the woman. ‘They’ve been trying to rent it for a while, though the sign’s been down for the past three months, so maybe someone was planning to move in. I don’t know.’

Ren’s heart was pounding.

The targets are Gary. And me. The fallout is Karen Dettling for him... and Janine for me. Ben is too far away.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

Oh, God. Carly Raine — Golden. Maybe Rawlins was really there for Janine.

She called Gary. His phone was diverted.

What is wrong with everyone? Where are you all?

Think, Ren. Where could Janine be? At the store. At a bar. Being killed. Support group! At a support group! Tonight is Wednesday! That was the night I called to the house when Terri was there!

Ren Googled eating disorder support groups in the area and found only one that met on Wednesdays in a community hall in Evergreen, a twenty-five-minute drive from Golden.

But wouldn’t Janine have brought her phone?

And is it ridiculous for me to drive all that way?

The meeting was ending as Ren arrived.

Have I missed Janine? Did she go with Terri, get a ride back with her?

Ren waited until everyone left before going into the room. A woman was tidying up some pamphlets on the table at the back. Ren knew from the web page that she was Megan Knight, the support group supervisor.

‘Megan Knight?’ said Ren.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid you’re a little late for the meeting.’

Stop eyeing me that way.

Ren held up her badge. ‘Actually, I’m here about another matter.’

‘Oh,’ said Megan, her eyes wide.

‘Don’t worry — I understand you have to protect people’s privacy, but I’m trying to find this woman.’ She showed Megan the photo of Janine.

‘Yes — I’ve seen her,’ said Megan. ‘She’s been coming over the last — I want to say — three months?’

Good for you, Janine. But I’m stung you didn’t tell me.

‘She never speaks,’ said Megan, ‘but we don’t like to put people under pressure. They’ve shown up, that’s a positive step we don’t want to undo.’

‘She’s a very private person,’ said Ren. ‘Megan, I believe she made a friend there — a woman called Terri?’

Megan nodded. ‘Yes, there’s a Terri who comes here. She often talks about her dogs, how much she loves her dogs.’

Shit... that would totally suck Janine in. ‘Did she ever mention where she lived?’ said Ren. ‘She told Janine that she lived in Golden, but I don’t think that’s true.’

‘Really?’ said Megan. ‘Why would she lie?’

Because she’s a killer. Or a killer’s accomplice. ‘I don’t know,’ said Ren. ‘Is there anything you can think of that might help?’

‘The nature of what we do allows for so much secrecy,’ said Megan, ‘I’m not sure how useful I can be. Let me rack my brains...’

‘Were they here tonight?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Megan, ‘which was a little strange, because Terri was planning to speak again tonight.’

Oh, shit... why would she not show?

‘What does she look like?’ said Ren.

Oh! The Farraday girls’ photo!

Ren showed Megan the photo of Robin Farraday. ‘Is that her?’ said Ren. ‘Or if you could maybe imagine that face thinner, with different hair?’

Megan shook her head. ‘No — Terri looks nothing like that. She’s a little heavier... she would have auburn hair, smaller eyes, and a wider nose. Definitely not this lady.’

Thank God.

But I know this is temporary relief. Because Duke Rawlins has all kinds of accomplices.

I feel so sick.

Ren drove back toward Golden. She tried Gary’s phones three times. Eventually, she left a message.

‘Gary, answer my fucking calls! I’m not fucking around here. Where the fuck are you? This is serious shit. Janine has dropped off the face of the earth. I’m worried about her. Call me!’

I need to fucking talk to people! Where are my people?

Ren drove back to the address Terri had given Janine. Maybe she could check the mailbox, take a walk around the back this time, see was there anything there that would reveal anything.

Ren’s mobile started to ring. She looked down.

Robbie.

‘Did you find her?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Robbie. ‘I was just calling to see, did you?’

‘No!’ said Ren. ‘I’m really worried. I—’

‘You sound it,’ said Robbie.

‘I’m concerned her new friend is someone Duke Rawlins sucked in,’ said Ren. ‘I think...’ She started crying. ‘Her name is Terri...’

‘Ren, Ren, calm down,’ said Robbie. ‘I’m sure it’s all very innocent.’

‘Are you?’ said Ren, wiping her eyes. ‘Are you? I can’t handle this.’ I can’t breathe. ‘What if this is Colin Grabien and he knows—’

‘What is this Colin Grabien thing?’ said Robbie. His tone was gentle. ‘Colin Grabien is right now being an idiot in Vegas. Someone emailed me a screen grab of one of his Facebook posts. OK? Does that help?’

Jesus. Thanks, Robbie. ‘Yes, yes, it does.’

I am losing my mind.

‘Oh my God!’ said Ren. ‘There’s a car pulling up! I gotta go—’

‘Pulling up where?’ said Robbie. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m outside... I’m...’ Don’t tell him. ‘I’m—’ I can’t breathe. ‘Oh my God! It’s Janine! She’s fine. She’s alive!’

‘Well, good to know. Are you OK now?’

‘Yes!’ said Ren. ‘Yes!’ She ended the call. She slid down in the seat and watched as Janine and Terri got out of Terri’s car and took out bags from Bed, Bath & Beyond, and carried them up to the front door.

Of Terri’s new rental, obviously. Stupid fucking neighbor not knowing that. Scaring the shit out of me.

Ren collapsed into tears.

I’m so tired.

When Janine and Terri had gone inside, Ren drove away, went back to Janine’s apartment and returned her phone.

Jesus Christ.

How can the pieces add up so perfectly to create the wrong answer?