Alex Barclay - Time of Death

What was the full story?

Ren read through the later articles, they had only a little more information. Hammond had been a lawyer, so if anyone was able to keep the details out of the press, it would have been him. And if they were particularly gruesome, he would want to save that little two-year-old girl from any future pain.

Trudie Hammond’s killer had never been found.

Ren dialed Glenn Buddy.

‘Hey, Glenn. It’s Ren. A propos nothing, did you find any prior connection between Helen Wheeler and Douglas Hammond?’

‘No,’ said Glenn. ‘Nothing.’

‘She wasn’t an expert witness in his courtroom or anything?’

‘No.’

‘Under a maiden name?’

‘We’ve gone through all her last names,’ said Glenn.

‘All?’

‘Three.’

‘Wow,’ said Ren. ‘Divorced?’

‘Widowed,’ said Glenn. ‘Divorced by two.’

‘She doesn’t seem the type.’ I should know this information if she’s my ‘ friend ’. ‘She didn’t talk about it much.’

‘Why would she?’

‘How come the three husbands didn’t make it into the papers?’

‘Well, not in the news reports,’ said Glenn. ‘But probably in some future special double-page feature on the attractive murdered psychiatrist from next-door-to-the wrong side of town.’

‘Could Helen have just walked in on a deal in that parking lot behind her office?’ You’re grasping.

‘Anyone dealing by her office would know her,’ said Glenn. ‘And know to avoid her. She obviously turned a blind eye.’

‘I doubt she’d turn a blind eye,’ said Ren. ‘It was probably that they just did their business when she had closed up for the evening. Did anyone round up some of these dirtbags to “axe” them some questions?’

‘Easier said than done.’

She paused. ‘What about Helen’s two ex-husbands? Not that dumping a body in a warehouse is particularly husbandlike…but could one of them have hired someone to kill her? Would they have any reason to? I don’t know…none of this sounds like Helen should be involved in it. I can’t get that out of my head. This is Helen Wheeler…’ She let out a breath. ‘It’s all so screwed up.’

Gaffney’s was Irish, loud, friendly and hopping. There was poetry etched into the wood paneling, pictures of Joyce and Beckett, the framed words of the national anthem and photos on the wall of sunburnt Irish bar staff through decades of hot Denver summers.

Colin Grabien stood by the bar with his hand resting on the lower back of a much shorter woman. She was a smiling, low-key blonde. She was understated. She was in her thirties. No glitter, no tits out. Ann Taylor Loft meets Aerosoles meets Seventh Heaven.

Quite the turnaround, Mr Grabien.

Ren walked over to them. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘You must be Naomi. I’m Ren. I work with Colin. It’s lovely to meet you.’ It really is. But calm down, Ren.

‘You too,’ said Naomi. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘And it was going so well,’ said Ren.

Naomi laughed. ‘It was all good. I promise.’ She smiled up at Colin.

‘Well, thank you.’ Your new boyfriend is soo full of shit.

Robbie came in after Ren.

‘Hello,’ said Naomi. She shook hands with him. ‘Nice to meet you, Robbie.’

‘You too,’ said Robbie. ‘Colin talks about you a lot.’

Robbie, you brat . Ren smiled at him, then at Colin. And in two seconds, Colin will buy drinks for everyone.

‘What are you having to drink, guys?’ said Colin.

‘Coors Light, please,’ said Ren. ‘Thank you.’ He walked up to the bar to order. Ren turned to Naomi. ‘So how long have you guys been dating?’ Because Colin will never tell.

‘Five months now,’ said Naomi.

‘That’s great,’ said Ren. She paused. ‘Colin’s got a huge brain.’ Hello? Why did I say that? Ren was reminded of her friend looking at a newborn in a baby carriage and saying to the mother, ‘What a beautiful…blanket!’

‘It’s going great,’ said Naomi.

‘I’ve never seen him like this,’ said Ren. I really haven’t. Now, how many other things can I say to fuck him up before he comes back with the drinks?

Colin had to pry Naomi away from Ren to take her to dinner. Naomi announced that they were meeting Colin’s parents. Colin’s smile was fixed.

‘They are so getting married,’ said Ren when they left. ‘I love her.’

‘She’s seems like a really nice lady,’ said Robbie.

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘For a woman who is obviously on her way in or out of a mental health facility.’

‘Just be happy for them,’ said Robbie.

Ren paused. ‘OK — I’ll split the difference. Can I be happy for him? And saddened for her?’

Robbie smiled. ‘Look — booth.’

‘Grab it.’

People around them were dropping off like flies. Most of them had been there since lunch-time. Robbie was on caffeine-free Coke number three, Ren was on Coors Light number four.

‘Oh, what the-’ said Robbie. He grabbed Ren’s beer. ‘It’s St Patrick’s Day…’

‘Hey,’ said Ren, trying to take it back from him. ‘What are you doing? Mormons don’t drink.’

‘Yes,’ said Robbie. ‘And we have the highest rate of porn addiction in the US.’

‘Are the two connected?’

‘I’m just saying,’ said Robbie.

‘Look who’s all disillusioned with the Latter Day Saints…’

‘No,’ said Robbie. ‘I just want to have fun.’

‘I can’t believe I’m about to say this,’ said Ren, ‘but there are other ways of having fun.’

‘I guess alcohol isn’t always the answer.’

‘Unless the question is “What is Ren Bryce’s favorite thing in the whole wide world?”’

Robbie laughed. ‘Look, just go with me on this. If there was any person to have my first beer with, it’s you.’

‘That’s grim,’ said Ren. ‘Like, come here, little boy, have some Jesus juice.’ She hung her head.

Robbie ordered his first beer.

Troubling.

When it arrived, he clinked bottles with her and she saw a teenage twinkle of rebellion.

Oh. Dear.

Three hours and four Coors later, Ren was merry and staring across the table at a man she had never met before — Hammered Robbie.

‘Ren, you are amazing,’ said Hammered Robbie. ‘You’re, like…amazing.’ He pulled her hand in between both of his.

‘Ding ding,’ said Ren. ‘Official confirmation that you are very…very drunk.’

‘But you are amazing,’ said Robbie.

‘But you are drunk.’

‘I always think you’re amazing,’ said Robbie. ‘You just…are. You come in to the office and it’s, like, fun.’

‘That’s because of Colin,’ said Ren.

‘He’s such a jerk to you.’

‘I love it.’

‘You’re so beautiful.’

Sweet Jesus.

Robbie reached a hand up towards Ren’s cheek. She stopped him gently. ‘I am taking you home.’

Something flashed in his eyes.

‘Nooo,’ said Ren. ‘I mean you need to get some rest.’ You are not losing both virginities in one night.

‘Come on,’ said Robbie. ‘How can you be with every other guy and not me?’

‘Ouuuch.’ Ren pulled on his wrists. ‘Come on, mister, get up.’

‘I’m better than any of those other guys.’

‘OK, Robbie? Listen to me,’ said Ren. ‘You’re like a little brother to me, OK? That’s how I see you.’

‘What? That is so creepy.’

Maybe from where you’re half-sitting half-standing . ‘No, it’s not,’ said Ren. ‘Now, move your butt.’