Alex Barclay - The Drowning Child

‘Oh my God. No, I haven’t.’

‘You are useless.’

‘I know that, but, separate to that, I have not fallen for Joe Lucchesi.’

‘Useless.’

‘Ugh,’ said Ren. ‘I don’t know what’s going on. I guess I’m finding it hard to process who I should be after all this.’ She laughed. ‘“I don’t know who I am any more...”’

‘“It’s not you, it’s me,”’ said Janine. ‘Just be what makes you happy.’

‘Happy at the time, or happy afterward?’ said Ren. ‘I think that’s my issue. Happy at the time gets me in a lot of trouble—’

‘Largely with yourself, though,’ said Janine. ‘What standards are you holding yourself up to?’

‘“Ladies”,’ said Ren. ‘Like you.’

‘You know that you don’t actually know my sexual history,’ said Janine.

‘Oh, thank God: you’re a closet whore.’

Janine smiled.

‘Oh my God – you are!’ said Ren.

‘Are you waiting for more information?’ said Janine.

‘Now I feel like a weirdo.’

‘Does any of it matter in the end?’ said Janine. ‘Is sex something to feel guilty about?’

Ren paused. ‘I’m Catholic, remember. But good point. I guess I’ve spent so long thinking...’

‘Overthinking,’ said Janine. ‘You overthink everything. It must be exhausting. You’re not hurting anyone. And if you’re hurting yourself, well, then don’t do it.’

‘It’s not that simple, though, is it?’ said Ren.

‘Stop. Be kind to yourself.’

I don’t deserve kindness.

Joe is kind.

Fuck him.

‘OK, so here’s my issue,’ said Ren. ‘Can you have a guy who makes you want to be slammed up against a wall every time you see him, and still he could be faithful to you?’

‘So, you’re thinking about a relationship,’ said Janine. She smiled.

‘Jesus. Paging Dr Lone, paging Dr Lone. No, I’m not thinking about a relationship... I don’t know what I’m thinking.’ She paused. ‘I guess I like... different types, and I’m afraid of the Joe Lucchesi types. Why would he want to be with me?’

‘Good point, because you’re a loser.’

‘But, also, can anyone really, truly commit to one type?’

‘Basically, this is about the fact you slept with two entirely different types of men in one week?’

‘Four days if we are to fully nail down the sluttiness. But yes. I guess so.’

‘But, you don’t have a type,’ said Janine. ‘You’re personality driven. Yes, you happened to have been with some gorgeous guys, but that was incidental.’

‘Yes!’ said Ren. ‘You’re right. I really don’t care what guys look like... within reason. Make me fucking laugh... and you’re fucked.’

‘Hey, I make you laugh,’ said Janine.

‘Be afraid.’

‘OK – here’s my advice,’ said Janine. ‘Stop worrying. Enjoy! Stop torturing yourself. And I don’t see no ring on that finger.’

Ren looked down at her hand. ‘It’s very bare.’ She looked up at Janine. ‘It suits me bare.’

‘Well, lucky you haven’t put the panties on yet,’ said Janine. ‘Because they would be totally on fire right now. And they cost me thirty dollars.’

‘Thirty dollars – did you get me a multi-pack? Thanks for your optimism. Or your belief in my continued whoredom.’

‘No, I did not get you a multi-pack,’ said Janine. ‘I got you one pair. Of very nice ones. I know who I’m dealing with.’

Ren’s phone beeped with a text from Joe Lucchesi.

See you before you go? x

Oh, God: the kiss.

Her heart sank. But she was smiling. She looked up. Janine was smiling back.

‘Love...’ said Janine, ‘is a wonderful thing.’

‘Is a fucking nightmare,’ said Ren at the same time.

Half an hour later, Ren arrived at Safe Streets. She went to the ladies’ room and put on the very pretty pink underwear.

She texted Janine.

Excellent taste, ma’am. Thank you. And it’s not love... XX

Janine replied.

They’re flame-retardant

Ren wondered if Janine had the same, sudden realization, and whether it turned her stomach too. Because they both knew that, within minutes, Ren would be sitting down in front of two senior FBI investigators and telling lies, lies, lies.

Ren walked into the bullpen and shook off her jacket. Cliff James came over to her without saying a word and put his big-bear arms around her.

‘You and me against the world, sweetheart,’ he said, kissing her head.

‘God bless you.’ She pulled away gently and sat down at the edge of his desk. ‘What would I do without you, Clifford James?’

‘Ren, what you do without me is your business...’

She laughed. ‘If you only knew.’

‘I don’t want to. I mean it. How’s Oregon?’

Ren nodded. ‘Looks like we could be dealing with an Aquatic Sexual Sadist, drowning children for kicks.’

Cliff shook his head. ‘How long can I keep doing this job, I ask myself.’ He tilted his head toward the conference room. ‘Are you nervous?’

‘You bet.’

‘No reason to be,’ said Cliff. They locked eyes. ‘You just tell your story.’ There was weight in his words.

There were two people waiting for Ren in the conference room – a dark, bulky man with a big gut, an unreadable face, blank eyes. His gray suit was a little too tight. The female agent with him had blonde hair swept tightly back, a stern, masculine face, but compassionate eyes. They stood up when Ren walked in. The man reached out first.

‘Agent Bryce, I’m Inspector Neubig, this is Inspector Brinks.’

Whoa, whoa, whoa. They’re not the names Gary said would be here.

Ren clenched, unclenched her fists under the table when she sat down.

What is going on here? This doesn’t feel routine.

‘Thank you for meeting with us today, Agent Bryce,’ said Neubig. ‘I believe you’re working on the missing boy case Oregon. How is that going for you?’

‘Good, thank you,’ said Ren.

‘Well, we don’t want to hold you up,’ said Neubig. ‘We’ll get straight to the point. We’d just like to talk to you about why a meeting was convened by Gary Dettling in his office at Safe Streets on the evening of the shooting?’

Oh.

Fuck.

Ren’s heart started to pound.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

‘Gary wanted to go through elements of the investigation with the core team.’

‘That would be...’ Neubig looked at his notes, ‘Janine Hooks, Robbie Truax, Everett King—’

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘Not Everett King. He just happened to be there.’

‘But,’ said Neubig, ‘was he not involved in tracking down’ – he looked at his notes – ‘the suspect who was shot when you and Robbie Truax came under fire at his property? Would you not say that Agent King was a key player in the investigative team?’

‘Of course,’ said Ren, ‘but he was a newer member of Safe Streets, and perhaps Gary was – out of familiarity – choosing to—’

‘But,’ said Neubig, ‘was Agent Hooks not hired at the same time as Agent King?’

Fuuuck. ‘That’s correct,’ said Ren. ‘I’m sorry. It’s really not my place to offer up suggestions as to why Gary chose the team he chose to be there that evening.’ She paused. ‘Actually, I think Everett may have had a personal engagement that night.’ Phew.

‘Moving on to your – we’ll call him your boyfriend – Ben Rader,’ said Neubig. ‘Can you tell me again why he had flown in to Safe Streets?’

We’ll call him your boyfriend? Nice. ‘Well, he’d flown to Denver,’ said Ren.

They fucking know. How could they possibly know? ‘As I found out afterwards,’ said Ren, ‘Gary was considering Ben for an undercover assignment.’ Not, in fact, asking him to be part of an intervention for his crazy fucking girlfriend. ‘Ben wanted to surprise me, so he asked Gary not to mention it to me.’