Blood Loss (23 page)

‘The poor thing,’ said Ren.

‘There’s no chapter in the parenting manual for this,’ said Cathy. ‘I’m sure you’re thinking I should be forcing her to talk about this – to someone, even if it’s not us. But she’s already been taken somewhere against her will. Her father has … died. She’s had no control over anything, so I’m reluctant to take any more control away from her. She was a sensitive little girl before this ever happened …’

‘We understand that Laurie has been through a lot,’ said Ren.
But where was she? Who was with her? What did she see? Who brought her to Kennington? Could someone have threatened her into silence?

‘But, she will have to talk to Sylvie Ross very soon,’ said Ren. ‘Agent Ross is the child forensic interviewer who spoke with Leo after the abduction. She’s wonderful with children, and she understands how to talk to a child who has been through a trauma.’

‘I’ll talk to Laurie,’ said Cathy. ‘I’ll try.’

‘And the black sedan …’ said Ren.

‘All I know is that it was parked about five houses down from here, but across the street.’

‘And apart from the neighbor who came to you,’ said Ren, ‘did you talk to any of the owners of the houses near where it was parked?’

‘Not all of them,’ said Cathy. ‘Should we be worried about this?’

‘It could be a coincidence,’ said Ren. ‘We have people out there now canvassing the neighborhood. Maybe someone was visiting with someone. Maybe it was nothing to do with you. Obviously, everyone is on high alert with what you’ve been through, so it’s easy to jump to conclusions.’

‘Yes,’ said Cathy. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s just … it’s making me feel … that maybe there’s something more to all this …’

‘Like what?’ said Ren.

‘I don’t know,’ said Cathy. ‘It’s this whole thing … I’m just not sure about any of it. Mark had his problems. But what happened with the sitter, him taking Laurie too? When things were bad, I’m sure there were so many times he dreamed of taking Laurie from me and he didn’t,’ she said. ‘I know you saw me losing it with him, but I don’t … I didn’t feel those things for him, not really. It was just years of built-up pain, I guess. Now he’s gone, and it’s … it’s devastating.’

‘Did you ever think he was capable of something like this?’ said Ren.

‘Sometimes … sometimes I think that all along, alcohol was … maybe more a kind of tool to block out his demons. Maybe when the alcohol was gone from his life, the demons could roam free. Or a new addiction replaced it? Maybe sex addiction …?’

Sex addiction, the manufactured get-out-of-jail free card.

‘So, what should we do about the car if it comes back?’ said Cathy.

‘If you see it, try to take down the license plate number. We’re going to go talk to the neighbors. And if there’s anything else, call me.’ She handed Cathy her card. ‘Any time. The same goes for Laurie.’

Ren and Robbie walked back to the car.

‘Sex addiction: give me a break,’ said Ren.

‘It’s a psychiatric condition,’ said Robbie.

‘And the winner of the world’s most convenient psychiatric disorder ever goes to …’

‘But—’ said Robbie.

‘And the winner of the award for the only psychiatric disorder a man would gladly suffer from, is …’ said Ren.

‘It ruins people’s lives,’ said Robbie.

‘I’m not disputing that
infidelity
ruins lives,’ said Ren.

‘Well, how do you explain men throwing away their careers by their philandering or porn addiction or whatever?’ said Robbie.

‘Because it’s amazing!’ said Ren. ‘Not because they have some mental illness. If they
didn’t
want to have sex,
that
would be a mental illness. I think non-addiction to sex should be classified as a mental illness.’

Oh shit. Robbie is a virgin.

‘The addict has to
want
to get help,’ said Robbie.

‘But who
wants
to be stopped from having sex with someone?’ said Ren.

‘We’ll agree to disagree,’ said Robbie.

‘You sound like you’re taking this personally,’ said Ren.

‘I’m obviously not,’ said Robbie.

‘Well, who knows what might happen when you get a taste for it.’

Robbie stopped. ‘I actually found that really insensitive, Ren.’

‘Oh my God, Robbie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t at all mean it that way. I just … I’m sorry.’

‘It’s OK, but … maybe … not everything has to be so light-hearted.’

Ren’s phone beeped with a text. Ben Rader.

Agent down(town). Agent down(town).

Ren replied:
Your place: 6? Can’t stay, though …

Ben replied:
Cheap.

Ren replied:
Nasty
.

Ben replied:
Perfect.

Who wants to be stopped from having sex with someone? And why can’t everything be light-hearted?

Ben opened the front door, grabbed Ren’s hand, and pulled her upstairs into the bedroom. He sat on the bed.

‘Take off your clothes,’ he said.

How am I supposed to stop comparing these men?

‘You do it,’ said Ren. She took his hands and put them where she wanted them. He slid them up, and started with her top button.

He paused. ‘Was this expensive?’

Yes. Shockingly.
‘No,’ said Ren.

Ben grabbed the fabric, and yanked it hard, popping all the buttons. Then he grabbed the back, and ripped it off. He unhooked her bra with one hand, and threw it on the floor with the top, and everything else that was getting in his way.

Ren turned around, and looked into his eyes for the longest she had since they met.

I like you Ben Rader. I like you a lot.

Ren lay on the floor afterwards and stared at the remains of her top, and some buttons. Something was clawing at her, somewhere in the back of her mind, mixed with thoughts of people throwing their careers away, and photos, and this.

Whores.

She jumped up, grabbed her phone and called Bob Gage.

‘I need to speak to your most promising newcomer,’ said Ren.

‘Owens?’ said Bob.

‘See?’ said Ren. ‘I knew you thought he was good.’

‘Shit,’ said Bob. ‘OK, I’ll give you his cell.’

Ren wrote down the number.

‘What’s this all about?’ said Bob. ‘Looking for help with a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle?’

‘Leave him alone,’ said Ren. ‘He may be about to give me some case-altering information.’

‘About—’

‘B’bye.’

Ren punched in Owens’ number.

‘OK – Owens, it’s Ren. Can you talk? This is important.’

‘Sure I can,’ said Owens. ‘Shoot.’

She could hear him shuffling pages.

‘Remember the break room,’ said Ren. ‘When I left you there with Mark Whaley?’

‘Yes.’

‘What was he like, do you remember?’ said Ren. ‘What did he do?’

‘He just kind of sat there in a daze,’ said Owens. ‘He was watching the television.’

‘Did he say anything?’ said Ren.

‘Just … he said thank you for the coffee. But … he didn’t touch it. He looked ill. I had to go get him some antacid.’

‘Did you leave him alone?’ said Ren.

‘Uh, yes,’ said Owens. ‘He was sick … I didn’t want him to throw up. I was only gone five minutes, max. Just to reception – the ladies have a supply.’

‘And when you got back …’ said Ren.

‘Nothing,’ said Owens. ‘He was there, same place.’

‘How did he look?’ said Ren.

‘No better. More sweaty. I gave him the Tums, he said thank you. And shortly after was when you came in.’

Ren remembered the sweat, the strong smell.
The smell of fear.

‘Is there a phone in the break room?’ said Ren.

‘Yes …’ said Owens. He paused. ‘Oh, God. Do you think he made a call? But he really didn’t look well. He was telling the truth, definitely.’

‘I have no doubt that Mark Whaley was looking very sick,’ said Ren. ‘But there are many reasons why a man can look sick, and sickness isn’t always top of that list. Especially when he’s sitting in the Sheriff’s Office …’

‘I am so sorry,’ said Owens.

‘I know you are,’ said Ren. ‘And I know it won’t happen again.’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘Nor will you call me ma’am again,’ said Ren. ‘Just so we’re clear. So, what do you think could have made Mark Whaley change his mind about his polygraph … from when he left the interrogation room with me to when I returned to the break room?’

‘You’re asking me …’ said Owens.

‘I’m asking you,’ said Ren.

‘Uh, OK. He comes in to the break room. He sits down. He’s waiting for coffee. He’s watching the news. Was the girls’ disappearance on it when you got there?’

‘Yes,’ said Ren.

‘Maybe it was all too real,’ said Owens. ‘When he saw it all there on the news, his daughter, it made him sick, and the whole idea of a polygraph was too … polygraphs scare people.’

Ren nodded. ‘And one of the stories on the news afterward was about a woman who failed a polygraph, and has been considered guilty ever since.’

‘Oh, he didn’t watch that story,’ said Owens. ‘We were talking over that …’

Oh. My. God.
And again, the answer was pulling at Ren.

‘You’re sure of that,’ said Ren.

‘Absolutely,’ said Owens.

It wasn’t the red Ferrari lady that stopped Mark Whaley taking the polygraph. It was the next story. It was Shep Collier’s press conference.

Ren ran back into the bedroom. ‘That was amazing, gotta go.’

Ben was asleep. She ran into his office, grabbed a stapler and stapled her top together. She put her jacket over it and buttoned it up as far as it could go.

Ren got back to Safe Streets and opened her laptop on the photos of Mark Whaley that had come in from The Lowry. And there was the young lady, getting close to Mark Whaley.

Tilting her head in a way that I should have recognized. Shit. Shit. Shit.

It was Mark Whaley and Tina Bowers. Ex-Congressman
Shep Collier’s lady of the night.

Ren searched on line for the article she had read on Shep Collier. He had slept with Tina Bowers on October 24th. He had stayed at The Crawford Hotel. Ren Googled The Lowry, where Mark Whaley had stayed. It was two blocks away. And Saturday the 24th was the third night he had been staying in Boston.

Republican Congressman Shep Collier, secret supporter of healthcare for the poor, was the antithesis of big-business pharmaceutical companies.

What was his connection with Mark Whaley?

Ren didn’t run her plans by Gary. Instead, the following morning, she sat in the conference room with her phone to her ear as she tolerated a series of questions, bad hold music and transfers until she got as far as leaving Shep Collier a voicemail. Half an hour later, her phone rang.

‘Hello – is that Special Agent Ren Bryce?’

It was an older man’s voice, a warm, voiceover voice.

‘Ren Bryce speaking.’

‘This is Shep Collier. I’m returning your call …’

‘Yes, thank you,’ said Ren. ‘I’m currently working on an investigation and I wanted to ask you what you know about a man called Mark Whaley.’

‘Mark Whaley? Should that name be familiar to me?’

‘Well, I’m calling to find that out, sir.’

‘I can’t say I’ve heard of the man,’ said Collier.

‘Are you familiar with MeesterBrandt Pharmaceuticals?’

‘I’m aware
of MeesterBrandt, of course,’ said Collier.

‘Mark Whaley is their CFO,’ said Ren.

‘Ah,’ said Collier. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be of any help to you, but I’ve had no personal or business dealings with MeesterBrandt or Mark Whaley.’

Here goes.
‘Mark Whaley was found dead last week,’ said Ren. ‘An apparent suicide.’

‘I’m very sorry to hear that,’ said Collier. ‘I’m sorry for the man’s family.’

‘Did you hear about the two young girls who went missing from a hotel in Breckenridge, Colorado just before that?’ said Ren.

‘For my family’s sake, the Collier household has been in media blackout since my announcement,’ he said. ‘As you might expect …’

‘I wouldn’t expect that, actually,’ said Ren. ‘I’d like to know what people are saying about me …’

When Collier spoke, there was a smile in his voice. ‘Well, it’s clear I don’t necessarily behave as expected …’

What can I say to that?

‘I suspect there will be many awkward pauses for me to look forward to in life from now on,’ he said.

‘My apologies,’ said Ren. ‘It’s … hard to know what to say.’

‘At least you’re honest.’

‘As were you … I watched your press conference,’ said Ren. ‘I admit, I was impressed by parts of your resignation speech. They didn’t sound scripted.’

‘Most of it was,’ said Collier. ‘But that’s the world we live in. It’s about the party, not about me.’

‘True,’ said Ren.

Why am I getting into all this?

‘Agent Bryce,’ said Collier. ‘The missing girls you mentioned … they were obviously connected in some way to this Mark Whaley?’

‘One is his eleven-year-old daughter – she was found safe. The other is the sixteen-year-old babysitter who was looking after her. Sadly, she was found dead.’

Silence.

‘Manner of death was murder-suicide,’ said Ren. She waited for him to react.

‘Mark Whaley murdered a sixteen-year-old girl, then took his own life?’ said Collier.

‘Yes,’ said Ren.

‘That’s a very tragic situation,’ said Collier.

‘Mr Collier … there is something else I’d like to ask you. It’s a delicate question … and I’d appreciate your discretion on this matter, as I would on our entire conversation.’

‘Go ahead, please,’ said Collier.

‘I have a photo of Mark Whaley,’ said Ren, ‘and he’s in the company of Tina Bowers. Would you know anything about that?’

‘You’re asking me if I would know the details of a prostitute’s clients?’

No – just the prostitute you slept with …
‘Can I ask how you found Tina Bowers?’ said Ren.
Enthusiastic? Perfunctory?

‘On a website,’ said Collier.

‘What website?’ said Ren.

‘I can’t remember,’ said Collier.

‘Did you type in a website address?’ said Ren. ‘Had the agency been recommended to you? Or did you search for something in particular?’