Blood Loss (24 page)

‘I … don’t remember,’ said Collier.

Really? Haven’t you replayed that moment over and over again? Haven’t you paused at the first step you made on this disastrous journey? Even
I’m
picturing a website with a screen full of hookers and their vital stats.

‘Well, thank you for your time,’ said Ren.

‘Good luck with your investigation, Agent Bryce. My thoughts are with the families.’

‘Thank you,’ said Ren. ‘Good luck with your … with everything.’

She put the phone down and sat back.

You do, indeed, behave unexpectedly, ex-Congressman Collier. How else could I not have taken an immediate dislike to a cheating frequenter of underage prostitutes?

Ren went on line and Googled Tina Bowers. According to every gossip website, she had gone underground, and would only reappear for an interview that would pay six figures. According to her celebrity lawyer, when Ren called her, she was hiding out in her grandmother’s house in Maplewood, New Jersey.

An email popped up in Ren’s Inbox from Bob Gage.

I never get emails from Bob Gage.

She opened it:

Read this before you kill me.

It was a link to
The Summit Daily News
:

Mack Yarnwood, 42, from Silverthorne, CO, might want to cancel his Facebook account quick fast. Yarnwood was arrested at his home early today on charges of Class 1 misdemeanor theft. Yarnwood, who had been working for Holder Electrical Contractors in Breckenridge, CO, posted Facebook images of himself with his loot, stolen from various jobs he had been working on in the previous twelve months.

When Yarnwood’s boss, Danny Holder, saw his employee’s Facebook photos, through his own son’s Facebook page, he looked into Yarnwood’s past and uncovered prior convictions for robbery and possession of a controlled substance.

Holder set up CCTV cameras, which captured Yarnwood taking a range of items, including clothing, bottles of liquor, appliances, even bed linen, and yes – you’ve guessed it – hotel towels.

Ren called Bob.

‘I’m guessing Mack Yarnwood wasn’t showing up for work at the Sheriff’s Office,’ said Ren. ‘Can’t seem to find his name here on any list …’

‘I didn’t even know the guy existed,’ said Bob. ‘I had to buy that journalist a slap-up meal not to put in that Holder was working at the Sheriff’s Office. It doesn’t look good.’

‘What I would like to know,’ said Ren. ‘Is when and where your buddy Holder set up his cameras …’

‘Meaning The Merlin …’ said Bob. ‘And yes, he did. I spoke with him. We have tape from the parking garage the night the Whaleys checked in …’

Ren slammed a hand on the desk. ‘What the fuck was Danny Holder thinking?’

‘He went through the tape,’ said Bob. ‘He saw nothing, so he figured he wasn’t doing anything wrong.’

‘Like he’d have a clue,’ said Ren. ‘I cannot believe he didn’t come forward with this.’

‘He wanted to handle the whole thieving thing privately,’ said Bob. ‘He was just trying to protect his business.’

‘You mean his ass,’ said Ren.

‘His livelihood.’

‘Jesus, Bob. Two little girls were missing out there. And, so you know, we just found out that the buccal swab from Shelby Royce’s mouth wasn’t a match with Mark Whaley. There was somebody else involved.’

‘I’m not trying to defend Danny Holder,’ said Bob. ‘I’m pissed at him myself. It’s just he thought he had a crew he could trust, and next thing, he’s thinking not only could he have a thief, he might have even hired a pedophile.’

‘I don’t care about Danny Holder right now,’ said Ren.

‘Don’t get mad at me,’ said Bob.

Even though the small-town bullshit has everyone covering everyone’s asses.

‘I’m just telling you he’s a good guy,’ said Bob. ‘His kids are in school with mine.’

‘Oh, well then,’ said Ren.

Silence.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Ren. ‘But I just, I can’t stand—’

‘We have the tape, OK?’ said Bob.

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘Yes.’
Retract your claws.

‘According to Danny,’ said Bob, ‘the only thing in the tape is the Whaleys getting out of their SUV.’

‘You have got to be shitting me,’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Bob. ‘He said they’re just getting out of it, unpacking it, and disappearing out of shot. He didn’t think there was anything crucial going on …’

‘Yes, to his trained eye. But … when did he set the camera up? His crew weren’t working that weekend.’

‘Friday lunch-time, before he left,’ said Bob. ‘He takes Friday afternoons off …’

‘And how long was the camera set to run? All weekend?’

‘Not the whole weekend,’ said Bob, ‘but he chose whatever setting compromised the quality of the footage so that the camera could run for longer. And it makes sense – he can see them on Friday night if they’re leaving with any shit, or, if the team’s on the beer for the weekend and they run out of it by Saturday night, or in the early hours of Sunday morning, one of them could be dumb enough to try to sneak in again. They didn’t tell him they were going away for the weekend because they figured he would hang around to make sure they didn’t knock off early Friday. Some of them were going for dinner in The Merlin, now that I think about it – maybe he thought it was those ones who were going to steal … while they were there.’

‘Where’s the tape now?’ said Ren.

‘It should be with you shortly. And you get the fun job of going through it. But, I wouldn’t hold out much hope.’

Ren put down the phone and her office phone rang.

Go away everyone.

‘Ren, it’s Cliff, I just happened to be talking to Glenn. Apparently some guy got the crap kicked out of him this afternoon in Park Hill. He was by the basketball courts, got dragged out of his car by a man, he used a baseball bat, really went to town on him.’

‘Is he in the hospital?’ said Ren.

‘No. He managed to get back in his car and drive away.’

‘Don’t tell me,’ said Ren, ‘was it a black sedan?’

‘Yup. That’s why I called. The basketball court’s only a few blocks from the Merritts’ house.’

‘What is going on here?’ said Ren.

‘Beats me,’ said Cliff.

‘Beats him,’ said Ren.

‘Denver PD’s canvassing the neighborhood … we’ll see what comes up.’

‘Hopefully they’ll find some paranoid neighbor with a telephoto lens pointed at the street.’

‘Oh, and Ren,’ said Cliff, ‘one eye witness said that the guy doing the beating was a big guy with a beard …’

Like Dale Merritt, for example.

The tape from Danny Holder showed up in the afternoon with a note from Bob.

‘Saturday 6 pm ’til 4 a.m. Enjoy!’

Ten hours. Yay. Thank you, Danny Holder.

Ren hit Play. It was low res and didn’t capture every frame, so objects flashed on and off the screen.

Shit.

The camera had been placed lower than it should have, and Holder hadn’t allowed for the dim lighting so the footage was in shades of mid-gray to black.

Ren fast-forwarded through much of it, stopping when she saw some action. She rewound, and lined it up. It was 19.05 – the Whaleys’ SUV pulled into the parking garage. The camera faced the driver’s side. Mark Whaley got out and went around to open the back door. Erica Whaley appeared beside him having come around from the passenger side. Then Laurie Whaley appeared from the driver’s side with Leo on her hip. She handed Leo to Erica. Then she staggered forward. She was at the front of the frame, bent over, clutching her stomach. Erica and Mark followed her around. Mark crouched down to see if she was OK. Erica was bending down as much as she could with Leo in her arms. Laurie moved her hands to her knees, and looked like she was taking deep breaths. Her father was rubbing her back. She slowly came to her feet a minute later. She was nodding. She was OK. Mark handed her a bottle of water. Erica walked with her and Leo out of shot. Mark continued to unpack the car.

Despite the stomach-ache drama, it was the standard family preparing to go into a hotel. Except within seventy-two hours, the father was involved in a murder-suicide with the sitter they were about to call for.

Ren rewound and hit Play. She watched it again. And again. And again.

Oh. My. God.

She pressed Pause.

What the fuck?

She squinted at the screen, paused at when Laurie was bent over. Laurie’s feet. Mark Whaley’s feet. Ren hit Play again. Then Pause. Laurie’s feet. Mark Whaley’s feet. And there, in the middle, another pair of feet. At the passenger side.

Ren watched five more times. And flashing on and off, was an extra pair of feet, visible under the SUV.

She rewound the tape again, and looked out for more movement, for anything coming from the direction of the entrance, but there was nothing. No cars drove by to the left of the SUV, none to the right.

What? I’m going blind …

Ren ran into Gary’s office. ‘Come down to the AV room,’ she said. ‘You’ve got to see this.’

He followed her. She sat him down and stood by his shoulder, talking him through what she saw.

‘Someone was in that parking garage,’ said Ren. ‘And they were right by the Whaleys. They could have been waiting. They could have heard exactly what their plans were. They could have heard that Laurie wasn’t feeling well, meaning she could have been vulnerable. They would have known her name, Leo’s name.’

‘
Are
they feet?’ said Gary, leaning into the screen.

Ren enlarged the image. ‘It’s still very blurry.’ She looked at Gary. ‘But I think they’re feet.’

‘But one looks higher than the other.’

‘It’s probably the angle,’ said Ren.

‘Is there any other footage – another camera, another angle?’ said Gary.

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘It’s the missing frame thing – the feet are gone in the next shot, and they don’t reappear.’

Gary slid the chair back from the desk and stood up. ‘Leave it for the techs to have another look at, see if there’s anything they can do … because this … doesn’t really give us anything.’

‘It does. Gary, you know that there’s more to this. This
is
something.’

‘I’m still not sure they’re feet,’ said Gary. ‘It could just be a shadow.’

Ren slumped back.

Don’t rain on my feet.

‘Did you hear about the guy that got the crap kicked out of him in Park Hill?’ said Ren. ‘It was right by the Merritts’ house? Gary, this might have been someone coming back to finish the job. If, for example, Laurie was let go and she wasn’t meant to be …’

‘We can’t know what happened to Laurie Whaley, other than she whacked her head in the hotel, until she’s been seen by the child forensic interviewer.’ He started to walk out of the room. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Go talk to Cathy Merritt and Laurie Whaley – see if they saw anything. But don’t press her about the abduction …’

Mixed signals alert.

Cathy Merritt opened her door and hovered in the doorway.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Should I have been expecting you?’

‘Denver PD got in touch,’ said Ren. ‘About an assault that happened in the neighborhood yesterday.’

Cathy’s eyes went wide. ‘Really? Oh my goodness. Come in.’

Ren followed her into the living room.

Ugh.

‘We’re trying to locate the victim,’ said Ren. ‘He managed to drive away from the scene.’

‘And … what can I do to help?’ said Cathy.

‘Did you notice anything unusual yesterday afternoon?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Cathy.

‘The vehicle that this man was driving,’ said Ren, ‘was black, like the one that was reported on your street.’

‘And where did the assault happen?’

‘By the basketball courts – two blocks from here.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Cathy. ‘Laurie plays basketball there.’

‘Was she there yesterday?’ said Ren.

‘She was over at a friend’s house – they may have gone there, but she certainly didn’t see anything happen, she would have said.’

‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘We’d like to talk to Laurie about it, if you don’t mind. We also need to ask her about the night she went missing.’

Cathy sat back. ‘I can’t allow that. She’s not ready.’

‘Mrs Merritt, I don’t want to ask her about what happened in the room, or anything to do with what happened afterward. I’ve been reviewing tape of the parking garage, and there may have been someone there when the Whaleys arrived.’

‘But … it’s a parking garage. Of course there were people there …’

‘Well, neither your ex-husband nor Erica saw anything, but I took a look at some footage, and … I’d like to ask Laurie a few questions …’

Cathy took in a deep breath. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Let me go get her.’

Laurie Whaley had lost weight – her clothes swamped her. She stood against the door frame with a bent knee, and one foot on top of the other. Her legs were like twigs. She had pulled her hands up into the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

‘Hi, Laurie,’ said Ren. ‘I’m Ren. We met in the hospital.’

Laurie nodded. ‘I know. Hi.’

‘Would you like to sit down?’ said Ren.

Laurie sat beside her on the sofa, but shifted back into the corner.

‘How’ve you been doing?’ said Ren.

‘Good,’ said Laurie. She shrugged.

‘I’m wondering if I could ask you a few questions,’ said Ren.

‘I guess,’ said Laurie.

‘It’s just about arriving at the hotel that Saturday night,’ said Ren. ‘I know that night was a very difficult time for you, and it was very frightening, but I just want to know, do you remember seeing anyone … or anything in the parking garage?’

Laurie was very still. ‘No,’ she said. Her eyes were wide. ‘No.’

‘Did you hear anything, maybe?’ said Ren. ‘Any sound?’

Laurie paused. ‘No.’

‘You felt unwell,’ said Ren. ‘What was the matter?’

‘I just got a stomachache,’ said Laurie. ‘I ate too much candy earlier, and being in the car, and everything …’

‘So, there was nothing that upset you?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Laurie.

‘You didn’t see anything?’ said Ren.

‘I’m sorry. I … there was nothing there,’ said Laurie. ‘No-one.’