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Agent Ren Bryce Thriller Series Books 1-3: Blood Runs Cold, Time of Death, Blood Loss
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‘I’m sorry, but I really need to get to work,’ said Ren. ‘OK? So just tell me where the fu— snowplow is and I can do my thing.’
‘Wow … calm down.’
‘One of my least favorite phrases in the world.’
Billy gave her a look she had seen before, usually when her tone had crossed a line. He threw back the covers and sat up. ‘Fine.’
‘Look, I’m late. That’s all.’
She walked back into the bar while he was getting dressed. He came out with the shovel. ‘You sit down. Can I get you a coffee?’
Ren shook her head. Her eyes moved to the door. He got the message. And he didn’t like it. He went out back and Ren watched from the window as he plowed a path to her Jeep, to the road and back to the door of the bar.
He walked in and unzipped his jacket, throwing it on one of the chairs.
‘Well, thanks,’ said Ren, standing up, desperate to leave the stale oppression of a bar in the morning. Billy started opening the shutters, his back turned to her, a quick glance over his shoulder for a half-hearted goodbye.
Ren got into the Jeep, took out her phone and dialed Helen’s number. She answered as Ren was pulling out of the parking lot.
‘Can you talk?’ said Ren.
‘Five minutes.’
Ren paused. ‘I … screwed up.’
‘OK …’
‘I … slept with a C.I. – a confidential informant. Last night.’
‘OK,’ said Helen. ‘What happened?’
‘He works in a bar. I went to see him. We were snowed in. We had a few drinks …’
‘Are you OK? He didn’t, like …’
‘God, no,’ said Ren. ‘He’s a lovely guy. I mean, he’s a criminal, but –’
‘He’s a criminal.’
‘Well, yeah. Obviously. Most C.I.s are. I mean, he’s … reformed.’
‘He told you that?’
‘No. But –’
‘But …?’
‘I believe him.’
‘Really?’
‘No. I guess not. No.’ Her voice was shaking. ‘OK? Here’s how I feel. I am so attracted to him, it’s amazing.’
‘I have heard you say that before.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I mean it this time.’
Helen said nothing.
‘What’ll I do?’ said Ren.
‘How many times have you asked me that?’
‘I know, but I’m hoping one day you’ll crack …’
Helen laughed. ‘Look, work out the patterns, Ren. You’re an intelligent woman. Why do you put yourself in these situations? What are the factors? Alcohol doesn’t help. Stress … you know all this.’
‘I know, but I still do it anyway. And for the first time, I can say, honestly, that even if I hadn’t been drinking, it would have happened. I know there are people who can walk away from this kind of thing … but I’m not one of them. I’d love to be, but … I never have.’
‘But you don’t feel good afterwards.’
‘I live in the moment.’
‘And then you regret the moment. And the moment eats you up, obsesses you. In a really bad way. And then …’
‘And then nothing, I’ve too much on now for it to get in the way.’
‘Yeah, because “feeling shit” gives a damn about what you have going on in your life.’
‘Yeah, well I’m not going to get down about it …’
‘Are you looking after yourself? Are you eating well? Sleeping?’
‘Not really … Mom.’
‘I’ll ignore that. Do me a favor, please. Go to the gym. Go to the health-food store. Get some early nights. Try a routine.’
Ren sighed.
‘And stay away from beer,’ said Helen.
Ren’s shoulders slumped. ‘I’ll try.’
‘Must try harder,’ said Helen.
