Time of Death

45

There was not one person in the world who could see this DVD. Because her career would be over.

For one year, Ren had lived in a world stripped of humanity. It had been that way long before she ever showed up, it was that way after she left. It wouldn’t end with the dismantling of the organization. It would travel with the people who had created it, wherever they went. It would fester in prisons, in homes, it would multiply.

After all, Pando is Latin for ‘I spread’.

Mission number one: leave Ren Bryce behind. Mission number two: seduce Domenica Val Pando into believing that there was a woman called Remy Torres, who was twenty-six years old and who had just suffered the harrowing experience of losing her four-month old baby. Mission number three: seduce Domenica Val Pando into trusting Remy Torres. Mission number four: use that trust to find out everything there is to know about Domenica Val Pando.

And, oh, how she trusted.

Part of Ren wanted to stand by what she had done. She understood why she had done it. When she got to know James Laker — she thought he was kind, she thought he saw the world like she did — she latched on to what was the closest thing to normal she had found in the compound. She wanted to help him and she wanted to help his seven-yearold son. Javier Luis had not been part of the bargain. And, until Laker had been forced to do otherwise, Javier Luis had not been part of the bargain in his eyes either.

Whatever Erubiel Diaz did was out of Ren’s control. But she felt responsible for Luis. She knew now that in releasing James Laker, she had released Javier Luis to rape and kill.

What she had done then seemed so different to what she would do now. It had gone against all her training. It felt like it was a decision made by a completely different person. Looking back, she felt she had been detached from reality. That ability made more sense when she was diagnosed. Being bipolar, she had a natural tendency to detach. She used it to make her a better agent. But at times like this, another part of her hated it and was afraid of it.

What have I done?

The repercussions of what she had done for James Laker were far-reaching. Just like Beau’s suicide. Just like Louis Parry’s disappearance.

Guilt. Lying. Guilt. Lying.

Suddenly, all thoughts of the compound were swept away.

Oh my God.

Ren called her mom, ‘Mom, it’s me. Sorry it’s late, early, whatever. Remember when Rita Parry called you over to talk?’

‘Yes,’ said her mom. Her mom never commented on the strange hours Ren called her.

‘How did that make you feel?’ It was the first time in Ren’s life that she had asked her mother a question about her emotions. Not because she didn’t want to hear the answer, but because her mother never discussed emotions — not her own or any of her children’s. Another HazMat suit wearer.

‘Oh…I don’t know…I suppose I felt bad. Her wanting to die like that. And not having answers to what happened to her son. I felt bad for at least knowing what happened to Beau.’

‘You asked Ricky Parry to do some jobs in the house after that, didn’t you?’

‘Well, yes. The Parry’s house was awful, Ren. It was so oppressive. There was no life in it. It was just…there. With a sick, depressed woman ready to give up, no matter what he could say or do. It can’t have been easy for him.’

‘No. I imagine it was the hardest thing he had ever gone through. And he had no idea what to do with the pain.’

Her mother hesitated. ‘Yes…Ren, what is this about?’

‘It’s about me taking a day off work,’ said Ren.

‘Right,’ said her mom. ‘You do that, Ren. I’m sure you’re exhausted with everything. That job of yours-’

‘Yup,’ said Ren. ‘That job of mine. Love to you both, Mom.’

‘And to you, too, sweetheart. Go back to bed.’

Ren put the phone down and pulled her wallet from her purse. She took out her credit card and made a phone call. She wrote down the details on a piece of paper. Outgoing flight time: 8 a.m. Return flight: 8 p.m.

The Parry house smelled of sickness and all the chemicals used to treat it. Ricky Parry was skinnier than Ren remembered. It didn’t suit him. It made his face appear long and his eyes seem to retreat into their sockets. Maybe they were. Maybe they’d grown tired of looking out at the world.

He tried to smile at her. He gestured her into the room. But instead of walking past him, Ren put her arms around him and drew him into a hug. He froze. She could feel him tremble. She held him a little tighter, then gently released him.

‘Can we sit down somewhere?’

Ricky nodded.

‘Is your mom here?’

‘She’s sleeping.’ He pointed to a room behind them. ‘We converted the games room.’

They went into the living room and sat side-by-side on the sofa. Ricky’s head hung. His hair smelled unwashed. His clothes smelled of having been worn too often and left damp for too long. He was oblivious to his right leg bouncing. His fingertips were red raw, the nails bitten halfway down.

The dresser was covered in photos. There were a lot of early ones, before Louis went missing; family vacations, school photos, everything that any other family would have. But at the end were a series of images that made the hairs on the back of Ren’s neck stand up. Oh my God.

Ricky followed her gaze. The pain in his eyes was heartbreaking.

‘I know,’ he said.

They were computer-aged photos of Louis, right up until the present. A graphic rendering of what Louis Parry would have looked like at fifteen, twenty-five, all the way up to the present day — a face from a childhood photo, mixed with the filled-out faces and hairlines of older male relations, mixed with the soft jawline he shared with his mother. A cobbled-together photo that had no place in a frame.

‘You know why I’m here,’ said Ren.

For a while, they stayed in silence. He looked up at her. ‘Nancy Drew.’ He smiled sadly.

‘Oh, Ricky,’ said Ren. ‘How could you do this to us?’