Читать книгу Agent Ren Bryce Thriller Series Books 1-3: Blood Runs Cold, Time of Death, Blood Loss - Alex Barclay - Страница 26

Chapter 17

Ren walked into Bob’s office with a face to match her feelings about Tiny Gressett.

‘Is everything OK?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Ren. ‘Are you ready?’

Bob nodded and got up, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

Mike Delaney walked in. ‘Hey, a call just came in from Reign on Main. Hal Rautts says Jean had supper in there on the Monday night – January 15th.’

‘Hal Rautts is the owner,’ said Bob to Ren.

‘OK, you want to swing by there, check it out?’ said Ren.

‘Yeah,’ said Bob.

‘See you later,’ said Mike.

‘Where are you going to go?’ said Ren.

‘Me and your friend Robbie Truax are going to hit the bars on Main Street, starting out at the north end – Big Mountain Brewery.’

* * *

On quiet sidewalks covered with snow, Breckenridge still had warmth. It was a mining town that had ridden the boom and bust rollercoaster and come out on top; a resort town that managed to keep its charm.

Ren looked out the window of the Explorer at the thousands of tiny white fairy lights that lit up the trees along Main Street.

‘Here’s how I see it,’ she said. ‘Aspen is the beautiful, aloof sister. Breck is the cute one who everyone really wants to be with. And Vail is the one who’s had all the plastic surgery to try to be like the other two.’

‘Interesting,’ said Bob.

‘Even their names sound that way,’ said Ren.

‘You’ve put a lot of thought into this.’

‘I have.’

‘Doesn’t mean people are going to agree with you,’ said Bob.

‘It’s not about that. It’s about me working out how I feel about things through the use of analogies.’

Bob smiled. ‘I like it here.’

‘I love it.’

They drove past the Prospector, a little diner on Main Street.

‘A parking space is the gold dust around here,’ said Bob. He drove up Main Street for the second time and took a left on to Jefferson Avenue. ‘Round and round we go …’

‘It’s cool,’ said Ren. ‘I’ve –’

‘Do not say you’ve just said one of those parking-space prayers,’ said Bob, turning to her.

‘They work.’ She pointed to a space on the opposite side of the street.

‘Sure,’ said Bob, looking over. ‘Let’s park in front of a doctor’s entrance.’

‘Oh …’

‘Yeah – oh. We’ll keep on moving.’

‘Just do the church car park and we’ll walk.’

Bob drove around the block. ‘One more shot,’ he said. ‘Hey. Look at that. One right there. Right outside.’

Ren smiled.

People resorted to Reign on Main. It was where they went when every other restaurant was full. Every table had a folded coaster under one leg, every waxed tablecloth had a knife wound.

‘Hey, Hal,’ said Bob.

‘Hey, Bob. Thanks for coming in.’

‘Thank you for calling.’

‘I saw the photo.’

Bob nodded. ‘Tragedy, tragedy. Hal, this is Ren Bryce with the FBI.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Hal. ‘Can I get you guys something to eat?’

‘No thanks,’ said Bob.

‘N …’ said Ren.

They waited.

‘Actually, would you mind?’ she said.

‘Not a problem,’ said Hal. ‘What can I get you?’

‘A cheeseburger is fine,’ said Ren.

They sat down at a table in the back corner.

‘So – Jean Transom,’ said Bob.

‘Yes,’ said Hal. ‘She came in, took a table,’ he pointed to the window, ‘she ordered and she split under an hour later. She left cash. I can get you the till receipt, so you can have the exact time.’

‘Anything stand out about her?’ said Ren.

‘No. Just, she had a formal way about her. Most people in here are more chilled.’

Stoned. ‘And Jean was …?’ said Ren.

He shrugged. ‘Just – she didn’t match the place, that’s all.’

‘Did she seem anxious or anything?’ said Bob.

‘Maybe, like, focused?’ said Hal.

‘On anything in particular?’ said Ren.

He shrugged.

Ren felt a flash of irritation.

The cheeseburger arrived with the lid off and a dull pool of grease on top of the meat. Ren’s stomach tightened. Even the ketchup paused. Ren smiled at Hal. ‘Thanks. This looks great.’ She had never eaten a mouthful of food quite like it.

‘Oh. I’m vibrating,’ she said, standing up. ‘Excuse me.’ She walked outside and rang Bob. ‘Don’t say my name. And don’t look out the window. It’s me. Ren. I’ll give you ten dollars to start eating that burger.’

Bob nodded as she talked. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible right now. But if you can make it in to me some time soon, I can look at an alternative. And we can discuss payment at a later date.’ He put the phone down and apologized to Hal. Ren waited two minutes and came back in. Bob stood up to let her past and put a finger with just enough pressure on the edge of the plate.

‘Oh. I am sorry,’ he said. The burger fell to the floor, followed by a shower of fries.

Hal stood up. ‘Let me go order you –’

‘Really,’ said Ren, putting a hand on his forearm. ‘It’s fine. I … I’m good. We don’t really have the time. Maybe we could just move tables?’

‘If you’re sure,’ said Hal.

‘Positive.’

They took a small table in the corner of the diner.

‘Is there anything else you can think of?’ said Ren. ‘Was Jean checking her watch? Did she look like she was waiting to meet someone?’

Hal paused. ‘Hmm. I can’t be sure, but I wouldn’t say so. And she didn’t seem to leave in a real big hurry.’ He shrugged. ‘It all seems kind of lame now. I mean, you guys came all the way in here, and now I feel, like … whatever.’

Ren shook her head. ‘We got to talk to one of the last people who saw our victim alive. That’s really important.’

‘Thanks,’ said Hal. ‘I kind of hope I remember more, like something will come back to me when you’re gone.’

This is not a movie. ‘Well, if it does, you can call either of us.’

They both handed over their cards. Even though it feels like a movie some times.

As they got up to leave, a group of tourists stood staring through the window, dressed for a nicer restaurant they clearly couldn’t get a table at. None of them looked as if they wanted to be the one to say no and keep the group walking the streets in the snow to find another place that could be full. Do it. Go, go, go. Don’t ruin your night.

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Bob when they got out on to the street, ‘was the burger really all that bad?’

Ren paused. ‘It was the kind of meat that brought you on a journey from hairy abattoirs to small-town processing plants where workers play games like Kick the Cows’ Balls into the Grinder.’

‘Bulls’ balls.’

‘Yeah, OK. Because that makes it better.’

‘Why didn’t you just leave it?’ said Bob.

‘I didn’t want to offend the guy.’

‘Politeness could kill you some day,’ said Bob. ‘“Please sir, would you mind not firing that gun into my temple? And really, you are squeezing my waist a little too tight. But I must say, the tattoo on your forearm is beautifully drawn.”’

‘It’s more I don’t like hurting people’s feelings,’ said Ren.

‘Jesus, you’ll go right up the ranks of the FBI with that stony attitude,’ said Bob. ‘Hey, do you think Jean Transom actually ate her meal?’

‘If she did?’ said Ren. ‘That’s cause of death locked off.’