Alex Barclay - Harm's Reach

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t,’ said Ren. ‘I’m at a loss as to how, when something like this happens, you don’t throw every single bit of information at me that you possibly can, just to help. You’re a helper, Mrs Faule. That’s why you chose to do something like this, right? That’s why I chose to be an FBI agent. I love helping. So does Detective Hooks here. I’m having a hard time with all this...’ She shrugged. ‘With your attitude... not to sound like a camp counselor about it. I’m repeating myself when I say how important your co-operation in this investigation is...’

‘I really do understand that,’ said Kristen.

‘There’s a killer who is still out there,’ said Janine. She paused. ‘Or in here.’

‘Come on,’ said Kristen. ‘There is hardly—’

‘You don’t know that,’ said Janine.

‘And I am co-operating,’ said Kristen. ‘Like I said — it’s down to confidentiality.’ She let out a breath.

‘Can I talk to you about your approach to rehab here?’ said Ren. ‘You use an outside facility, Wellness Partners, based at the Denver Tech Center?’

Kenneth Faule burst into the room, his arm outstretched. He paused mid-stride.

‘Oh,’ he said, looking at Janine and Ren. ‘Welcome.’

‘Thank you,’ said Ren. Welcome?

Kenneth went to Kristen’s desk and set a cell phone down on it. Kristen shook her head, weary. She took a sticker from a box in her letter tray and stuck it to the back of the phone. Kenneth wrote something on it, handed it back to her and she put it in a drawer.

‘Cell phones are forbidden here for the teens,’ said Kristen, ‘but someone always gives it a try. They get it back on their way out the door. And it’s not always the kids doing it. Sometimes it’s the parents sneaking a phone to them, giving in to their demands. I wonder sometimes do the parents actually miss the disruption in their home? Is the silence too much for them...?’

Or the lack of dramz .

‘Sorry for interrupting,’ said Kenneth. ‘I’ll let you get on with it.’ He left.

‘We were talking about rehab,’ said Ren.

Kristen nodded. ‘Yes, when we started out, running a rehab facility was not part of our plan. I didn’t want to go down that route, I saw it as a very dark world that I knew nothing about. I hope that doesn’t sound terrible. I saw the ranch as... I was naïve, I admit it... I saw the ranch as kind of a go-back-to-your-roots type of place, an innocent place. Of course, a lot of these kids have no such roots. And so many of them have addiction problems — illegal and prescription drugs. I never would have believed it was that bad. So, we outsourced the rehabilitation elements on a day basis. Kids who need that kind of care are brought there for a few hours every morning, then return here for the rest of their treatment.’

‘What time are these sessions at?’ said Ren.

‘They leave at nine and usually get back between eleven thirty and twelve,’ said Kristen. ‘I spoke with Detective Kohler, so did our bus driver. They didn’t see anything that day.’

‘Do you have plans to introduce rehab facilities here?’ said Ren.

Kristen frowned. ‘Well... yes,’ she said.

Ren waited.

‘Is that an issue?’ said Kristen.

‘No,’ said Ren. But I’m venturing you could do with the withdrawal of the long arm of the law. She stood up and shook Kristen’s hand. ‘Thank you for your time.’

You strange, competitive, faux-serene oddball. What are you hiding?

‘Let me take you to Conor,’ said Kristen.

The meeting room smelled of fresh shower gel and toothpaste. Conor Gorman, his messy dark hair still wet, was sitting at the edge of the sofa, his knees wide, his forearms balanced on his thighs, his head bowed. He was dressed in black jeans, a gray T-shirt and scuffed black biker boots. He had the look of a wanderer, like someone who didn’t belong, not just on a sofa covered with bright fleeces in the forced cheer of The Darned Heart Ranch, but on any sofa anywhere — because that’s what ordinary people did. They sat on sofas and were ordinary. The only difference was that not many ordinary people had the small, quiet might of suited lawyer Christopher Bergin beside them. He stood up and shook hands with Ren and Janine.

It was only then that Conor looked up. He fixed first Ren, then Janine, with the palest blue eyes, stark under the thick lines of his eyebrows.

This is that dark Irish thing that women love.

He had just turned seventeen, but there was something magnetic about him that went beyond his years, something sorrowful that came from his core.

‘I’m so sorry about your aunt,’ said Ren.

He raised an eyebrow. He looked around as if he would find a punchline or a set of handcuffs.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

He stared down at the floor. The chain around his neck hovered, drawing attention to its ugliness. The rest of his jewelry looked more his style: two twisted red ropes on one wrist, a black G-Shock watch on the other, a black and silver band on his right thumb. Ren could see how strange a fixture Conor Gorman would be in the Princes’ lives, how he wouldn’t blend in. He would be like a rubber mark on a marble floor.

‘How are you holding up?’ said Ren.

He shrugged.

‘Is being here helpful?’ said Ren.

He hesitated before he answered a tentative, ‘No.’

‘Then why are you here?’ said Ren.

‘To make the Princes happy...’ said Conor. ‘They paid a lot of money for this, it’s what Aunt Laura wanted...’ He shrugged again. ‘I know I have issues... but...’

‘Conor, can you tell me what happened the day that your Aunt Laura was murdered?’ said Ren.

‘I left the ranch—’

‘Let’s start with how your aunt came to be close by,’ said Ren.

‘She was coming to meet me,’ said Conor. ‘I had spoken with her on Saturday night.’

‘How did she get a hold of you?’ said Janine. ‘Cell phones are forbidden at the ranch, right?’

‘She called the front desk, pretended she was Ingrid Prince... she did a good Americany Swedish accent...’ He tried to smile, but the words had caught in his throat and he ended up fighting back tears.

‘And why wouldn’t Laura have just said who she was?’ said Ren.

If she wasn’t hiding something...

‘I don’t know,’ said Conor. ‘I asked her, but she just said she didn’t want to get into it. She told me I was to meet her at twelve on Monday.’

‘Did she say why?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Conor, ‘I said “But I’m not allowed out of here — just come to the ranch.” She was like “I won’t make it by tomorrow, and then I’ll have to wait until formal visits next Sunday. And I have to see you this week.” She said to meet by the little stand of dead trees on Stoney Pass Road... She’d seen them on Google Maps.’

I knew it!

‘How did she sound to you on the phone?’ said Ren.

Conor shrugged. ‘Just... normal.’

‘Anything else?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Conor.

‘Was Laura the type to hide her emotions?’ said Ren. ‘If she thought, for example, that telling you something might worry you.’

‘Laura always looked out for people,’ said Conor. He wiped away tears. ‘This is so messed up...’

‘Did she express any concerns about her pregnancy to you on the night she called?’ said Ren.

‘No — I had no idea she was pregnant.’

‘Do you know the circumstances of the pregnancy?’ said Ren.

‘What do you mean?’ said Conor.

‘Did you know that Laura was acting as a surrogate for the Princes?’ said Ren.

His eyes went wide. ‘No.’