Patrick stood up. ‘Well, I’m going to leave you to it, Ren,’ he said. ‘Thank you for taking the time. And … I have a good feeling about you. That you’re going to find … the person who did this.’
Jesus Christ. I deserve this today. ‘Thank you,’ said Ren. ‘I promise I will do everything I can.’
As soon as he left, she ran to the ladies’ room and threw up. I am a loser. I am a terrible human being. I’m not human, in fact. She washed her face at the sink. As she was drying it with paper towels, the phone beeped.
Hey. Hw r u? Billy.
Ren’s heart started pounding. She deleted the text. She brushed her teeth, fixed her face and tried to do as much of it as she could without looking herself in the eye. She ran into Mike in the hallway outside.
‘Hey, Ren.’
‘Hey, Mike.’
‘I was looking into the RUTH folder for you,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t track down who “Ruth” was. There was no corresponding file in Jean’s office or on her computer, so it was a dead end. I did talk to the parents of the other children in that file, or the children themselves – some of whom are adults now. Jean hadn’t been in contact with any of them any time recently.’
‘It’s weird that the folder is called RUTH and Ruth is the one girl whose file isn’t in the folder.’
Mike shrugged. ‘I know.’
That night, Ren sat by the payphone at the inn with a ten-dollar phone card she’d bought at City Market. She barely knew how to use one. She scratched off the number with her nail, dialed a central number, punched in a code, dialed another number. There was a long wait before she was connected.
Billy picked up. ‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Billy. It’s Ren Bryce.’
‘Hey. Did you get home OK?’ said Billy.
‘Yes … I got your text.’
‘When I didn’t hear back … I was just wondering if you were OK.’
‘I’m fine, but …’ She ran through the ways to say it, ‘you can’t text me on my cell … unless it’s work, unless you have information, need me to come in …’
‘Oh.’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound –’
‘Look, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’
Ren breathed out slowly. ‘I’m not going to say “Can we pretend this didn’t happen?” because that wouldn’t be very nice. But –’
‘– can we pretend this didn’t happen?’
‘Well, I feel bad. I don’t know what to say. I did … have a great time.’
‘Me too.’
‘But …’
‘So does that mean you don’t require my services any more?’
Silence.
‘Ren?’ He waited. ‘Jesus, I meant my services – my work for you guys.’
‘Oh God,’ said Ren. ‘I’m so sorry. I thought you were being an asshole.’
‘No.’ His voice was firm.
‘Sorry.’
‘So does this mean you won’t be stopping by again?’ said Billy.
‘No. I have to stop by again. I can’t not stop by. What I’m saying is, it needs to be … I need to be professional.’
‘OK …’
‘The kids here are going to think I’m nuts,’ said Ren. ‘I’m clearly not on vacation. In my business suit. Using the payphone…’
‘They probably think you’re tight. That you’re going to fill the communal refrigerator with food that is covered in stickers with your name on.’
‘I can’t find my permanent-ink Sharpie anywhere.’
‘I borrowed it to write your name on the label of the underwear you left behind … O-renda. So I can keep track.’
Ren laughed. ‘Ugh.’
‘I can only joke about it because it’s not true,’ said Billy.
‘Yes. I had my underwear on when I left.’
‘I meant it’s not true I need to keep track … seriously.’
‘Really?’
‘Really, actually.’
‘Well, that’s, I guess, good to know.’
‘Just in case you were wondering.’
I was. ‘I wasn’t, don’t worry.’
‘OK.’
‘OK,’ said Ren, ‘I’d better get to bed.’
‘I hope it’s more comfortable than last night’s.’
‘Yeah, me too.’ Even though there was comfort to be found … in Billy Waites’ arms.
Ren lay staring. She had drawn the heavy drapes across the bedroom window, blocking the snowy view on to the street. Her heart beat too quickly, her breathing was off. Rushes of heat and nausea swept over her. The clock read one a. m., then two, then three. And as it finally flashed four, every negative sensation sharpened and spiraled and became connected and expanded and hammered at her.
She sat up. She took a drink from the bottle of water on the night stand. There was a lavender candle beside it. Do these really work? She lit it anyway. But the flame was so small, it was swallowedinto the dark.
Ren woke the next morning at seven and texted Gary.
Cn we meet 2day?
Y. Whn?
7.30?
OK.
Ren liked to have an hour to get ready in the morning. Not any more. She left the inn with minimum makeup and wet hair. By seven twenty-five she was in the conference room with a giant coffee and a toasted sesame bagel.
‘Hey,’ said Gary, walking in. He took the seat beside her. ‘What’s this all about?’
Ren looked at him and wondered how things would change if her answer was, I slept with Billy Waites. She looked at him and said instead, ‘The investigation. I’m getting a little anxious …’
‘OK. Talk to me.’
‘Well, I have nothing.’
‘I can tell you that’s not true, for a start. Everything that could be followed up on, has been. And what we have done is to rule out a hell of a lot already.’
‘I’m fine with the ruling out if I’ve got lots of ruling in going on too,’ said Ren. ‘I’m like, “What the fuck happened to you, Jean?”’
‘Ren – you’ll answer that yourself. If you start thinking that you won’t, it’ll be reflected in your work. Begin every day like it’s the first day of the investigation.’
‘That’s good advice. Thanks.’
‘So, give me updates.’
‘It seems to be just me getting hunches about people. This guy who drinks at the Brockton Filly – creepy. Caroline Quaintance – lying, even though the animal