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Agent Ren Bryce Thriller Series Books 1-3: Blood Runs Cold, Time of Death, Blood Loss
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‘No, I did not,’ said Margaret. ‘But I was in bed by ten thirty.’
‘And what about Saturday morning?’
‘Her car was gone by the time I got up. So she could have been there all night, or she could have stayed somewhere else.’
‘OK, Margaret. Thank you so much for your time,’ said Ren.
‘A pleasure. And here’s where I get your card in case my memory springs back to life with a vital clue and I save the day.’
Ren smiled and handed her a card. ‘Now, don’t let Pinocchio get his hands on that …’ She walked down the path to her car. ‘Hey,’ she called back, ‘where’s the cat?’
‘McGraw?’ said Margaret. ‘He’s not in the house?’
Ren shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Margaret.
‘What’s he look like?’
‘Evil. Tabby.’
‘Is he Quick Draw? Or Phil?’
‘Tim,’ said Margaret. ‘Tim McGraw. My cat’s called Faith Hill.’
‘Really?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Cats? No way. They don’t give a damn about anyone.’
‘And clearly your dog gives a big shit about you.’
Margaret let out a laugh, almost slipped on an icy patch and let out another laugh. Ren waved goodbye.
Poor McGraw. Please don’t be out in the snow.
Chapter 16 (#u8bb60e53-87b4-54e1-a600-62c12d8c99b9)
I-70 was a slow-moving stress-fest. Ren checked her watch. It was four p.m. Shit. Skiers and snowboarders had started to make their way down off Vail Pass. Ren gripped the steering wheel, swapped her old gum for new gum, changed the temperature settings, rubbed moisturizer into her hands. One minute passed. Shit. She punched through her phone contacts until she got to H.
‘Hey, Helen. It’s Ren. Can you talk?’
‘Sure. How are you doing?’
‘I’m OK. Oh, hold on.’ She braked, slamming her hand on the horn. ‘You idiot! Fuck you, too, mister. Asshole. I’m sorry, Helen.’
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes. I am. How are you?’
‘Well, I’m fine. You under pressure?’
‘Not really, I …’ She leaned out the window. ‘I do not believe this shit. Another rollover. Another idiot lady driver in an SUV without chains. I am going to be so late.’ She closed the window.
‘Ren,’ said Helen.
‘Sorry,’ said Ren. ‘I got this new case – the agent who died in Breck.’
‘Ah.’
‘I’m lead investigator.’
‘Will you be in Breck for the next while?’ said Helen.
‘Yup.’
‘Is there any hope of seeing you?’
‘I …’ Ren rolled down the window again and stuck her head out. ‘This is a nightmare. Why today? When I need to get back for a briefing and I am in charge of –’
‘Ren, what I’m getting is you calling me on your way to and from meetings. I’m on speaker phone, you’re in the mountains, your signal’s going … it’s not great.’
‘I know. I’m sorry –’
‘There’s no need to be sorry. Just, why don’t you come to Denver?’
‘I can’t. I’m sorry. If I drove to Denver, I’d lose half a day.’
‘You might lose half a day, but do you think you might gain something?’
‘I didn’t mean it like that. I just –’
‘It’s been a while.’
‘I know,’ said Ren. ‘I really want to. But for now, the phone’s the best I can do.’
‘I guess it’s better than nothing.’
‘I gotta go. It’s moving a little. I’ll call you.’
Helen paused. ‘Sure.’
The conference room at the Sheriff’s Office was full. Ren was three-quarters of an hour late by the time she arrived.
‘OK, everyone,’ she said as she stood at the desk, staring out at the assembled team. Get your shit together.
‘You’re lucky we can confirm the MVA on I-70,’ said Bob.
Ren stared at him. Not in front of the children.
