Alex Barclay - Harm's Reach

Ren shrugged. ‘Maybe I just don’t want to belong to a club that would have me as a member...’

‘That’s a harsh judgment to make about yourself,’ said Lone.

‘Well, I can only tell you the truth.’

‘You talk a lot about the man,’ said Dr Lone. ‘What about you , Ren? What about what you want, what about who you love?’

Ren paused. ‘I don’t know if I can love, like, really love. Can you really love if you’re, like... armored?’

‘What are you armored against?’ said Lone. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

‘Have you ever seen someone utterly fall apart because they’ve lost someone?’ said Ren.

‘Yes, I have,’ said Dr Lone.

‘Don’t you think it’s horrific?’ said Ren. ‘I never want to do that. I never want to be in that position.’

‘Why?’ said Dr Lone.

‘Because...’ The loss of control is the most terrifying thing I could imagine.

‘No one can go through life escaping loss,’ said Dr Lone.

‘I know that,’ said Ren. ‘But you can minimize it.’

‘By not loving?’ said Dr Lone.

Ren shrugged.

‘By not loving, while admittedly wanting to love...’ said Dr Lone.

‘Exactly,’ said Ren.

Dr Lone smiled. He waited. ‘Have you ever fallen apart because you’ve lost someone you loved?’ he said.

La la la la la.

Ren stared up at the ceiling. She tried to shake her head.

Awkward angle.

As she lowered her head, she could feel a single tear make a trail down her cheek, then her neck, stopping when it met her collar.

Ugh.

Dr Lone waited.

‘There might be someone now,’ said Ren. ‘I mean, this might be in anticipation...’

‘You’re talking about Ben.’

Ren nodded.

‘And you’ve said there are no problems in your relationship.’

Ren laughed and cried. ‘I know.’

‘Yet you fear you might lose him.’

‘I fear I might get rid of him before that can happen,’ said Ren. ‘I’ll be the loser before I end up being the looz-ee.’

‘Can you trust in Ben, can you trust in the relationship?’ said Dr Lone.

‘I think I can trust him,’ said Ren. ‘He’s a good man. He kind of hints that he loves me. It’s really sweet. And he knows that I like him a lot. But...’

‘Is there something else?’ said Dr Lone. ‘Is there something that’s bringing all this to the forefront?’

One day, you will fly through the sky, land in front of me, deem me sane, and fly away. But we will always find a way to stay in touch...

‘Ren?’

‘I have to tell him I’m bipolar,’ said Ren. ‘I know him — I suspect he’ll be fine with that because he’s a good guy... and he hasn’t seen the dark side. Yes, I love him. But I also know — and he won’t — despite that, at some time in the future, I will think that I love other men too. At the same time. Like, I will really believe that I love someone else. Or that I want to be with someone else. And I won’t know that I didn’t really mean that until it’s too late. I’m like a cheater who doesn’t cheat. Even though I did cheat on him... before we were officially going out, but still...’

‘Ben has told you that that was OK,’ said Dr Lone. ‘He understood why that happened. So try to let that go. And after that, it’s about what you do with the feelings you have toward other men.’

‘I haven’t mastered that yet,’ said Ren.

‘Your alternative is to stay single,’ said Dr Lone.

Noooooo! ‘That’s not what I want.’ Hey, I could try an open relationship. Ewww. Though... maybe that would make my life easier. Or I could try multiple marriages... Oh my God, if I married Ben, I would be Ren Rader... total Avengers name.

I could take on Batman...

This is exhausting.

Ren turned on her cell phone as she got into her Jeep. There was a message from Janine to call.

‘Hey, lady,’ said Ren.

‘Preliminary results from the lab on the cars,’ said Janine. ‘The one from the ranch? An accelerant was used: there are pour patterns all over it. The one from the robbery — there were just traces of accelerant in the trunk. Looks like there was a short on the wiring in the trunk.’

‘Hmm,’ said Ren. ‘So... someone torched the car at the ranch...’

‘Put the remaining accelerant in the trunk of their car...’

‘And didn’t a witness say they saw smoke coming out of the trunk of the getaway car before it crashed?’

‘They did,’ said Janine.

‘But that car was stolen — they must have had to transfer the accelerant into whatever car they left the ranch with.’

‘Yup.’

‘So, maybe not a random act of arson by a troubled teen...’ said Ren.

‘I mean, we have no idea who’s staying at the ranch,’ said Janine. ‘And “troubled” is different things to different people. Think you could work that up into a country song?’

‘I’ll give it a shot,’ said Ren. She paused. Janine waited. ‘OK, I got it: “Troubled is the word I say before I say your name, and troubled’s got these tiny hooks that always catch the blame.”’

Janine laughed.

‘Hooks!’ said Ren. ‘I didn’t even do that on purpose!’

‘So... are you saying — in your profound lyrics — that if we’re throwing blame around, it’s too easy for it to land on the troubled teens?’

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘But I’m not saying that that’s not the reality. Sometimes, easy is the way it is.’

‘There’s also a song in that...’ said Janine.

‘Please do not encourage me,’ said Ren. ‘Here goes: “Easy is the way it is, and easy’s good for me. If you want it hard, and want it bad, then take my friend, Janine...”’

Janine laughed loud.

‘OK, stop with the lyrics,’ said Janine.

‘“I’ve lost my words, I’ve lost my soul—”’

‘Stop!’ said Janine.

‘You’re missing out...’

‘Maybe it was an insurance job by Burt Kendall?’ said Janine. ‘He’s the only one who benefited from that car being burnt out.’

‘Yup, the choice of location is very convenient,’ said Ren. ‘Clever man. Dozens of suspects protected by confidentiality, owners keen to protect their image. And he wouldn’t have to explain away the accelerant if he wanted the insurance company to think it was some kid acting out.’

‘We need to check into the finances of Mr Burt Kendall,’ said Janine.

Ren arrived into Safe Streets and threw down her purse. ‘Afternoon, Clifford.’

‘Afternoon, Renard,’ said Cliff. ‘Nice lunch?’

‘Delicious.’ I ate several helpings of discomfort. And went back for more.

Ren sat down at her desk and went to the Denver Post website, scanning the main stories. A week had passed since the murder. In the side bar, there was one small piece on the lack of progress in the investigation.

Great.

Underneath, another piece caught her eye.

‘Well, looky here,’ said Ren, ‘someone has posted a link to a YouTube clip of eeee-vangelist Howard Coombes’ milkshake bringing all the boys to the yard. Is it cruel to watch this? I hate watching videos of people being humiliated.’

‘But you can’t stand the guy,’ said Cliff.

‘Even still, though... it makes me feel dirty.’

‘But we love you when you’re dirty.’

‘Don’t you love me all the time?’ said Ren.

He raised his eyebrows.

‘I invited that,’ said Ren. She pressed play. ‘I have my answer — it’s very cruel.’

‘Get back to work, young lady.’

‘Hold up,’ said Ren a few minutes later. ‘I’ve just spotted a little piece about wifey Coombes, who has been seen without her wedding band. Seriously? If your husband sleeping with another man wasn’t enough to make you take your wedding band off...’