Killing Ways

8

After work, Ren went to visit Misty, and met with Janine for coffee afterwards in Crema on Larimer Street.

‘The sooner I get a house the better,’ said Ren. ‘I miss my girl.’

‘Did she go insane when she saw you?’ said Janine.

‘She did,’ said Ren. ‘It was adorable.’ She stared down at her coffee. ‘I hope she won’t need therapy after me deserting her.’

‘You haven’t deserted her,’ said Janine. ‘You’ve made a major sacrifice, so she can stay in an area she’s familiar with, with someone else who loves her. I visit her, you visit her. Misty is beloved!’

Ren smiled. ‘She is.’ Sometimes, though, I can’t even raise my game to see her. I’m so hungover, I just want to get back to the apartment after work. Or a bar. Or I can’t face getting up early enough to see her before work.

‘Are you being neg?’ said Janine.

Ren laughed. ‘Maybe...’

‘That’s just the alcohol in your system.’

‘Why do we do it?’

‘Because it’s fun.’

Ren let out a breath.

‘Are you OK?’ said Janine. She put a hand on her forearm.

Just tell her.

No.

Do.

‘Thanks for looking out for me last night,’ said Ren. ‘God. I was so wasted.’

Janine laughed. ‘Nooo.’

‘Was I an embarrassment?’

‘No! Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Ugh. I think you’re just being nice.’

‘No. Honestly.’

‘Look, I just wanted to let you know something,’ said Ren. ‘Not that it’s got anything to do with last night. But... I suppose, I just haven’t told you and now it seems weird after all this time. I’m... bipolar.’ Ugh, still hate it.

‘Thanks for letting me know.’

‘You mean you guessed already!’ said Ren.

Janine laughed. ‘Not exactly. I figured... there was something there.’

‘Something wrong, you mean. When? Why didn’t you say?’

‘It’s not exactly something I’m going to throw out there...’

‘True. Anyway, there it is, my sorry tale.’

‘It doesn’t change a thing as far as I’m concerned,’ said Janine. ‘But, yes, I’m glad you told me.’

‘Well, now that we’re working together...’

Janine frowned. ‘Now that we’re working together?’ She paused. ‘Are you trying to tell me I can’t rely on you?’ She was half-smiling. ‘That if we were in a gun battle you might be across the room dancing to “Happy”?’

Ren laughed. I love you, Janine Hooks. ‘Thanks.’

‘All I will say is please talk to me if you’re struggling... or if there’s anything on your mind.’

‘Of course,’ said Ren. ‘And you can talk to me too.’

Now, have you anything you’d like to tell me? Like about your possible eating disorder?

There was a sparkle of the onset of tears in Janine’s eyes. She blinked and they were gone, swallowed up.

Just like that. Talk to me. Or do you think I’m just not the right kind of friend?

‘Gary makes me go to these bullshit support groups every two weeks,’ said Ren. ‘In that shit-ass Henderson Hotel. It’s enough to make you blow your brains out. Shit — I was supposed to be at one last night.’

‘Don’t the meetings help at all?’ said Janine.

Not right now. At all. Ooh. You, troubled lady, need to know support groups help. ‘They do help,’ said Ren. ‘Just sometimes they remind me that there’s something wrong with me. And, like, I feel great. I could go there in the best humor ever, and someone’s up at the lectern talking about killing themselves or getting injected in the ass with clozapine and I’m like “that is not my life”.’

‘Of course that’s not your life,’ said Janine. ‘I mean, look at you.’

Yes. Seconds from a clozapine shot at all times. Ooh: that’s a great idea. Shots called Clozapine. I’ll have a round of Clozapines. Like Mind Erasers. Mind Numbers. With a silent ‘b’. The pharmaceutical company probably wouldn’t allow a brand name to be used. Obviously.

She let out a breath.

‘And, Ren, I want you to know I can’t be your friend in half-measures. Like, I don’t half-care about people. I’m all in. Which I hope explains why I was the way I was last night. So if that doesn’t sit well with you...’

‘It’s just...’

‘What?’ said Janine.

I hate my behavior being scrutinized. I hate being watched. I hate being stopped. I hate my fun being curtailed. I shouldn’t have told her. Now I have another person in my life with a worried look on their face. Fuck that.

‘Just... thanks,’ said Ren.

Ren started the drive back to her apartment. She kept thinking of Hope Coulson’s party pictures.

I am missing something. I need to talk to Jonathan Briar.

Fuck his lawyer.

You really don’t want to do that.

Gary will go—

La la la la la...

Ren rang the buzzer outside Jonathan Briar’s apartment building, waiting patiently for him to pick up.

‘Hey,’ he said.

‘Jonathan, it’s Ren Bryce here from Safe Streets...’

Silence.

‘I was looking at Hope’s Facebook page and there’s something I need to ask you.’

‘I have a lawyer now,’ said Jonathan.

‘This will take five minutes,’ said Ren. ‘Please. You want to find out who did this to Hope, don’t you? You’re not a suspect. I just have a couple of questions.’

‘What about her Facebook page?’ said Jonathan.

‘Something doesn’t add up,’ said Ren. ‘Please — can I come up? I’ll show you.’

Silence.

Then the buzzer.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.