Blood Loss

‘Hmm,’ said Ren. ‘I’m not sure she feels the same way. I really like the woman. I do. But … remember I ended up staying out with her a couple of weeks back? We had a lot to drink, but she was … behaving like a single lady. All the single ladies.’

‘All the single ladies,’ said Cliff. He put his hand up.

‘She zoned in on this guy at the bar, like it was her mission to bag him,’ said Ren.

‘And did she?’ said Cliff.

‘No, but … I was right there – she was hardly going to disappear with him.’

‘Maybe she’s just insecure,’ said Cliff, ‘or competitive, or …’

‘Hmm,’ said Ren. ‘She’s like those women who other women love … until they see them around their man. She’s a girl’s girl, and a man’s girl, but … you get the feeling she’s distracting you with her high-larity, while she’s got her hand on your boyfriend’s ass.’ Ren paused. ‘I’m safe for girlfriends and wives. I’ll laugh or joke with yo’ man, but I don’t want him, he’s all yours. I think I make that clear. I’ve never taken someone’s man. Naomi … I think … she does want to take other men.’

‘And I thought you didn’t care about Colin …’ said Cliff.

Ren smiled. ‘And don’t mention this to him, by the way.’

‘No,’ said Cliff.

‘It would be quite the irony,’ said Ren, ‘a manwhore hanging up his riding boots for a womanwhore.’

‘Ren, that sentence is wrong “on so many levels”,’ said Cliff.

‘I’ll get you coffee for that,’ said Ren.

Cliff’s phone rang. He picked up. ‘Glenn? Shoot,’ he said. Glenn Buddy was a Denver PD detective, and Cliff’s closest friend.

‘Really?’ said Cliff. ‘No. Nothing. I’m here with Ms Ren. Let me put you on speaker.’

‘Hey, Ren,’ said Glenn. ‘We’ve got a second rape. Victim’s parents found her in her bedroom when they got back from the movie theater. She is hanging by a thread. We think it’s the Kennington guy …’

‘Shit,’ said Ren.

‘That’s bad news,’ said Cliff.

‘How old is she?’ said Ren.

Glenn let out a breath. ‘She’s fourteen.’

4

From the windows of The Merlin Lodge & Spa, the peaks of the Tenmile Range over Breckenridge glowed against the black sky. Snow was falling, more than was forecast, a white powdery gift for the next day’s competitors. The town was hosting a snowboarding championship two weeks ahead of the world-famous Winter Dew Festival, when up to one hundred thousand visitors would hit Breck.

Mark and Erica Whaley sat at a table against the wall half way down the restaurant.

‘OK,’ said Mark, looking at his watch. ‘It’s eleven thirty. I told the sitter I’d go check on the kids half an hour ago.’

Erica pulled the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket beside the table and held it over her glass.

‘I think you’ll find that’s empty,’ said Mark, smiling.

Erica leaned back in her chair. ‘Oh, well …’

There was a moment of silence between them.

‘Honey, are you OK?’ said Erica, reaching out for Mark’s hand.

‘Yes,’ he said. His jaw clenched. ‘Why? I’m fine. You’d be the first to know if I wasn’t.’

‘Exactly,’ said Erica. ‘I am the first to know …’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Mark.

‘It means that most of the time I know before you do that something is up,’ said Erica.

‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Mark. ‘Nothing is up.’

‘Calm down,’ said Erica.

‘I’m just tired of being asked,’ said Mark.

‘So, I won’t ask, then,’ said Erica.

‘Thank you,’ said Mark.

‘I won’t care any more if you’re OK,’ said Erica.

‘Honey …’

‘I’ll be one of those wives who lets her husband come and go, tends to her children, sleeps with the pool guy and plays bridge with her lady friends.’

‘We’re never getting a pool,’ said Mark.

Erica smiled.

‘I only ask because I care,’ she said.

‘Yeah, I get that,’ said Mark.

‘Don’t be like that.’

‘Honey, we’re on vacation,’ said Mark.

‘Away from things,’ said Erica. ‘Isn’t that a good time to talk?’

‘Sure it is,’ said Mark. ‘But let’s not get into the “are you OK” thing.’

Erica gestured to the waiter walking past.