Alex Barclay - Blood Runs Cold

Ren ate her Cinnamonster in half the time it should have taken her. She used a sticky thumb to dial Mike.

‘Hey, it’s Ren. Where would I find Salem Swade if, say, I wasn’t quite in the humor for hiking up Quandary?’

‘Easy,’ said Mike. ‘Between nine a.m. and eleven a.m. at the Gold Pan. How lazy are you?’

Ren laughed. ‘Thanks. Gotta go.’ She checked her watch. It was ten a.m.

Salem sat in the Gold Pan reading the Summit Daily News . It was in every bar, restaurant, hotel and inn all over the county. He nodded when she walked in.

‘Hello …’ he said.

‘Hello, Salem. Remember me? Ren? Nice to see you.’

‘My pod is out of juice,’ he said. It lay dead beside his plate.

‘I can charge it for you,’ said Ren, pulling out her laptop.

‘Thank you,’ he said. With suspicion.

‘It’s safe with me,’ she said, plugging it in.

Salem nodded. ‘That’s good news. I’ve a long walk ahead of me.’

‘I could give you a ride.’

‘No thank you. You going to have breakfast?’

‘Just coffee. Mind if I join you?’

‘No, ma’am.’

The waiter came by with coffee.

‘This place is great,’ she said to Salem.

‘This place was built the same year they struck gold in the Blue River,’ he said. ‘Oldest bar around. Never even closed in Prohibition times.’

‘Really?’ said Ren.

He nodded. They sat in silence for a little while.

‘Salem,’ said Ren, ‘I was wondering if you could do me a favor …’

‘Maybe. Go ahead.’

‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘If I ask you some questions about some people, can you keep it to yourself?’

‘You mean not tell anyone you asked me, or not tell them you asked me?’ said Salem.

‘Not tell them and not tell anyone,’ said Ren.

Salem nodded. ‘Not necessarily.’ He paused. ‘Well, if you asked me to kill them, for example, I’d be obliged to let them and your bosses know.’ He fixed serious eyes on her. Then broke out in a laugh.

‘It’s safe to say I have no desire to kill anyone,’ said Ren. She smiled. Then noticed Salem’s faraway eyes.

Oh shit . ‘But I signed up to what I signed up to’ said Ren, and, if placed in a situation, I would have no problem using my weapon and taking the necessary action.’

Come back to me . ‘I’m sorry,’ she said finally.

He turned to her. ‘Me too.’

The breakfast arrived with the silence.

‘So,’ said Salem, when she had finished eating. ‘What is this secret question?’

‘Thanks,’ said Ren. ‘OK, I was just wondering who brings you stuff up to the cabin? Is there someone who comes up with, say, food or clothes?’ Like the Wardwells .

He nodded. ‘Sure. The Wardwells from the store down there.’

‘Together?’

‘Most times.’

‘OK. When?’

‘Could be any day.’

‘Any particular time?’

‘Six p.m. Seven.’

‘Do they stay long?’ said Ren.

‘’Bout an hour.’

‘OK.’

‘That’s it?’

‘That’s it. Thank you.’

‘Can’t see why that’s such a big secret.’

‘Trust me,’ said Ren.

‘I would, if you hadn’t just stood up and grabbed your computer with my pod hanging out of it.’

‘Oops,’ said Ren. ‘Here you go.’ She turned to leave. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘let me get this — ’ She took the bill from the table.

He shook his head. ‘Mine’s free. I get free breakfasts here.’

‘Oh. I forgot. I’m sorry.’

He nodded.

‘But I doubt I’ll be extended the same privilege,’ said Ren, smiling.

The waiter was on his way over. ‘This is on me.’

Ren looked back and forth between both of them. ‘But — ’

‘No,’ he said. ‘If Salem has a date, we’re going to cover her too.’

‘Well, thank you very much,’ said Ren. ‘Are you sure?’

‘You bet.’

‘If I’d known I could bring a date here for free …’ said Salem.

The parking lot of the Brockton Filly was almost deserted. Ren got out of the Jeep, wondering what had happened to all Billy’s customers. The new green neon sign looked too bright and shiny for a dead bar. She pushed in the door. Apart from the hum of the air-conditioning, it was like being back in January. There were a few people dotted around, mainly dirty-looking truckers.

Ren went up to the bar. ‘Hey,’ she said.

Billy’s face was stony. ‘Hi.’

‘What’s up?’ She looked at him and around the bar.

‘Like you don’t know …’

‘Don’t know what?’

‘I was raided last night for serving alcohol to minors.’

‘What?’

‘Do you really not know this?’

‘No, how the hell would I ?’

‘Well, you’re working out of the Sheriff’s Office aren’t you?’

‘Um, yeah, but it’s not like my priority is underage drinking right now, I’m not in there drawing up a hit-list of bars.’

He let out a breath. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just pissed off. I’m going to get fined; they rounded up a load of kids and brought them to the Sheriff’s Office, so they’re going to be really bummed about that and tell everyone. I mean, it’s not like it’s going to stay quiet for long. But still …’

‘Oh dear.’

‘I’m sorry. I thought you knew.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I can understand how you might think I know everything …’

He smiled.

The door to the ladies room burst open and Jo da Ho staggered out.

‘Damn you, you son-of-a-bitch,’ she shouted, as she fell briefly on her hands, then pushed her weight back up again. The man ran around her and out through the door of the bar.

Billy ran to her. Ren ran too.

‘Did he hurt you?’ said Billy. ‘I will — ’

‘No,’ said Jo. ‘But damn him, he broke my damn necklace in two.’

‘Oh, your pretty necklace,’ said Ren, bending down to pick it off a floor she realized too late was very wet.

‘Exactly,’ said Jo. ‘Thank you.’ She held out her hand.

But Ren didn’t hand it to her. ‘Where did you get this, Jo?’

Jo looked at Ren, then Billy, then down to the necklace.

‘Jo?’ said Ren. ‘This is not a big deal. It’s just out of curiosity.’

‘I found it in the bathroom,’ said Jo. ‘A woman dropped it. She’d been in here before and I knew she’d be back, so I kept it for her. But it was pretty, so I wore it. Otherwise I would have just sold it, wouldn’t I? My plan all along was to give it back to its rightful owner.’

Good point . ‘I know that,’ said Ren. She closed her grip on the necklace and put it into her pocket before Billy or Jo could see what she really had in her hand. She took out a photo of Jean Transom that she kept in her wallet. ‘Is this the lady who lost it?’

‘Exactly,’ said Jo. ‘Exactly.’

Billy and Ren looked at each other.

‘Did you see any pictures of this woman on the news or on the posters around Breckenridge?’ said Ren.

‘I don’t have a television set,’ said Jo. ‘But I did see a picture something like that, now you mention it. But that woman in the pictures was an FBI agent, it said. The woman who dropped the necklace didn’t look like an FBI agent. An FBI agent just wouldn’t come into the Filly. So I thought they kind of looked like each other, but it couldn’t be the same person.’

Maybe if you had read the poster and seen that the last sighting was here …

‘That is true,’ said Billy.

‘Well, Jean was a friend of mine,’ said Ren, ‘so, if you don’t mind, I’m going to hang on to this necklace for her family.’