Harm’s Reach

The temperature was rising and the sun beating down as they arrived at the abbey, deepening the rich brown of the clay roof tiles, making the white stucco walls glow. Evergreen Abbey was Spanish Colonial Revival; a protruding porch, curved gables and parapets, and a vast arcaded entrance under an arched window of similar size. The rest of the building was set back, spreading out on both sides, with perfect rows of arched windows. The building was simple, elegant, welcoming, but austere.

‘Wow,’ said Ren.

‘Everyone should work in a building with a little history,’ said Gary.

‘I thank you for that every day,’ said Ren. Though the main FBI building in Denver was a dazzling new office on 36th Avenue, the Safe Streets team, at Gary’s insistence, worked out of a building that was only ten minutes, but a world away in The Livestock Exchange Building, built in 1886.

They walked up the abbey steps to the huge wooden door. Ren rang the intercom bell and they were buzzed in to a cool, dark foyer, tiled in an ornate pattern of rich blue, yellow and white. There was no office, just two battered leather sofas and a door with pin code access.

‘I think we’re in some kind of delousing chamber,’ said Ren. ‘They know where I’ve been.’

The internal door opened and a woman in her late fifties walked through. She looked more bohemian gallery owner than head of a retreat for women. She had short, springy black hair with a narrow, off-center band of gray curving through it.

‘Eleanor Jensen,’ she said, shaking Ren’s hand first. ‘You’re very welcome.’

‘SSA Gary Dettling,’ said Gary. Gary’s tone had fallen on the right side of confident, the side that didn’t make him sound like an arrogant asshole, which he wasn’t. Ren had seen how some people reacted to him if his tone was off.

With Eleanor Jensen, she saw a flash of something different across her face. Ren sometimes forgot how Gary fit so well with how women imagined an FBI agent to be: tall, fit, serious, in control. He was the handsome hero who made them feel safe. And made them want to sleep with him.

He had never made Ren feel she wanted to sleep with him. Sleep with? No. Fuck hard all night? Yes.

But he was her boss. And he was a loyal husband, with a teenage daughter. And he had no interest in her. And he gave nothing sexual away.

Which makes you sexier. Which annoys me when it occurs to me.

She and Gary had been alone together many late nights – in the office or in some strange bar in a strange town during a boring investigation … and she sometimes felt that, after the tip-you-over final beers, they almost bounded off to their separate beds in relief.

Disaster averted …

I. Am. In. An. Abbey. Jesus.

I haven’t had sex in nine days. Nine!

Ben Rader, come back.

Give my roaming filth a destination.

6 (#ulink_c3112993-6066-5691-899b-d5b545e8e26a)

Eleanor Jensen led them through a beautiful carved wooden door into a white marble hallway.

‘We’ll go up to the library,’ she said.

‘Well, that’s an offer we can’t refuse,’ said Ren.

‘It is rather beautiful,’ said Eleanor. ‘The first abbess here was a well-known author. She wrote many books on the Benedictine life. We pretty much live by those principles.’

You are babbling for comfort. You came to this remote place for a reason, to shelter from the cruel outside world, and now it has crept in after you.

Ren’s cell phone rang, startling her, a violation in the quiet hallways. It was Janine.

‘I’m sorry, I’ll have to take this,’ said Ren. She stopped.

‘Ren? Apparently, there was a second call from The Darned Heart saying that they had the burning vehicle under control, that there was no need to involve the fire department or the Sheriff’s Office. I just called them there to tell them, under the circumstances, that we would be sending investigators.’

‘And whose vehicle was it?’ said Ren.

‘A car belonging to Burt Kendall – from Kendall’s Auto Sales and Auto Parts. He also provides machine operators for his vehicles. They’re digging foundations for building work at the ranch. They don’t work Mondays. They had left some vehicles and machines there over the weekend.’

‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘See you in a little while.’

Eleanor Jensen was guiding Gary through the door of the library, a spectacular room with a line of floor-to-ceiling arched windows overlooking the grounds. The remaining walls were lined with mahogany bookshelves.

‘Wow,’ said Ren, as she followed behind. ‘This is beautiful.’

‘Please take a seat,’ said Eleanor. ‘I believe you are the bearers of bad news.’

‘Yes,’ said Gary, waiting for the women to sit down before he did. ‘I’m afraid we found the body of a young woman on Stoney Pass Road. We’re trying to piece together what happened, and we’d like to ask you a few questions.’

‘Oh my goodness,’ said Eleanor. ‘That’s terrible … what happened? Can you say?’

‘It was a shooting,’ said Ren. ‘We found her in her car.’

‘I can’t believe it,’ said Eleanor. ‘It’s so safe here. I’ve never questioned that for a second.’

‘We’d like to talk to everyone who was here today,’ said Gary. ‘How many people live here?’

‘Thirty-four,’ said Eleanor. ‘At least I can make your workload a little lighter; the bus you met … there were twenty-two women on that who have been in Boulder for the past two days. We lend our support to different causes in different places, depending. Eight more women are in Denver at a seminar. So, including me, there were just four of us here.’

‘If we could get a list of all the residents before we go, that would be great,’ said Gary. ‘Just mark in the four who were here. Investigators from the JeffCo Sheriff’s Office will be arriving to take care of interviews.’

‘OK,’ said Eleanor.

‘Can you give us a sense of what you do here at the abbey?’ said Ren. ‘What kind of women come here, how does it work?’

‘Well, a lot of women have come here from very different lives,’ said Eleanor. ‘They’re looking for freedom of all kinds. Usually they’ve been controlled by something else – addiction, a violent partner, sex, money … They don’t want to feel controlled by anything else, by what they may see as the restrictive nature of being, for example, in a religious order. It’s psychological. So the abbey suits them, in that it’s a spiritual community.’

Gary’s cell phone rang. ‘Excuse me,’ he said. He stepped outside.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Eleanor. ‘I’m talking too much, I’m babbling … please stop me. I know you’re busy people …’

‘You’re being very helpful,’ said Ren. ‘Don’t worry. I was wondering, could you tell me a little about The Darned Heart?’

‘Well, they’re a private organization – some of those kids are from important families. And they’re vulnerable. The owners are very protective.’

Ren nodded. ‘Your property adjoins the ranch – do you see much of the kids?’

‘A little,’ said Eleanor. ‘They’ve got stables, so we often see the kids trekking. And we take care of the ranch’s laundry. Sometimes Kristen sends kids over here to work – she wants to show them a different life to what they’re used to. These are often privileged kids, they have everything done for them, they have that sense of entitlement – you can’t really blame them. It’s all they know. They have no respect for anything. It’s really sad that their parents have allowed that to happen. And in a few hours here, there’s little we can do to change that. All I could wish for is that they see something that inspires them to change, but I’m probably being a little naïve. They probably laugh at us over there, I’ve heard them call us Dyke National Forest … you know, the ranch borders Pike National Forest … but some of them, some of them are nice, polite, respectful kids. Some of them talk more than others, tell us a little bit about their lives. Others come in, do their duty like it’s the worst penalty they’ve ever been given.