Blood Runs Cold (4 page)

The exit for Golden flashed past. She thought about Vincent and their little house. She counted silver cars: America’s most popular car color.

Sheriff Bob Gage’s office was a neat, polished space. He had one notebook and one folder on his desk. His computer was on a table beside him. Behind him was a bank of file cabinets with family photos lined up across the top. Four smiling, dancing, sporting girls and boys.

His assistant led Ren and Gary in.

Bob stood up. ‘Hey, Ren,’ he said, giving her a light hug. ‘Gary.’ He shook his hand.

‘You’re back in action fairly quickly,’ said Ren.

‘Not much choice,’ said Bob. ‘Do you all know Tiny Gressett and Todd Austerval?’

‘We’ve met,’ said Gary, shaking their hands. ‘That’s very sad news about Jean.’

‘Thank you,’ said Gressett. ‘Finding it hard to take it all in.’

‘We said goodbye to her like she was just going on vacation,’ said Todd. He paused, then turned to Ren, waiting for an introduction.

‘Oh, hi,’ she said. ‘I’m Special Agent Ren Bryce with Safe Streets.’

‘Good to meet you,’ said Todd.

‘Ren?’ said Gressett. ‘That mean you can sing?’

Ren smiled. It was awkward. ‘Nothing you’d want to listen to.’

Gressett smiled and a remarkable amount of extra lines showed on his face.

‘I wanted to say I really am very sorry that we’re meeting under these circumstances,’ said Ren.

Gressett paused. ‘Well, thank you. Jean was an outstanding agent … and a friend.’

‘I heard she was really something,’ said Ren. ‘I hadn’t met her, I haven’t been with Safe Streets that long –’

‘But she’s one of our best,’ said Gary. ‘Ren will be heading up the investigation here.’

‘Oh,’ said Gressett. ‘Being that you’re familiar with the area and all that.’ He smiled and laughed alone.

‘Nope, just being that I’m familiar with homicide investigation …’
And being patronized by men
who aren’t
.

‘Well, good for you,’ said Gressett.

‘Yes, sir,’ said Ren.
Now can we please stop this
bullshit?

‘Right, everyone,’ said Bob, ‘Sit down, make yourselves comfortable. Coffee?’

Everyone nodded.

‘Let me run through what we got,’ he said. He placed a head-and-shoulders shot of Jean on the desk. ‘Jean Transom, thirty-nine, single, worked in Glenwood, lived in Rifle, so far last seen by Todd and Gressett here, Friday, January 12th, five p.m. Body found on Quandary Peak, Tuesday, January twenty-third; possible GSW to the back or chest.’

Ren looked down at the photo.
There is something
in your face that inspires trust
. A friend of Ren’s called it a ‘Can-I-get-you-a-Kleenex?’ face.

‘OK,’ said Gary. ‘Colin Grabien in Safe Streets will be running through phone records – he should have something back for us tomorrow.’

‘I can go through Jean’s desk at Glenwood, talk to Agent Gressett about what she was working on,’ said Ren.

‘Next of kin I have down as Patrick Transom, Jean’s younger brother,’ said Bob. ‘We’ll have to take care of the notification before this shit gets out. Ren, I’d be afraid to say it to another woman, but I’d like you to come with me for that feminine …presence.’

‘Jesus. You have me down as feminine?’ said Ren.

‘There’s a higher heel on your shoes,’ said Bob.

‘We’ve met Patrick,’ said Gressett. ‘Maybe Todd and I should …’

‘Let’s leave Bob and Ren to take care of it,’
said Gary. ‘We don’t want to all descend on him.’

Gressett slid forward on his seat. ‘Todd and I could –’

‘You’re too close,’ said Gary. Gary severed discussions; a quick, deep, cut – a special tone and a way of turning his head to focus on something else. ‘Bob, can you show us where we can work out of?’

‘Sure,’ said Bob. ‘We got an office cleared out there, computers set up, admin – you just let us know if there’s anything else you need.’

‘That’s great,’ said Gary.

‘Thanks,’ said Ren.

‘How many of your guys are coming down later?’ said Bob.

‘Three more from Safe Streets to join Ren for the duration of the investigation,’ said Gary. ‘And a bunch of agents who will be sent to us from any offices that can spare them.’

‘OK,’ said Bob, getting to his feet.

They all moved out of the office into reception. Ren pulled on her jacket.

‘Listen, go a little easy on people,’ said Gary, lowering his voice, leaning into her.

‘Like who?’ said Ren.

‘Gressett.’

‘Sorry … but he was being an asshole.’

‘Yeah, but we just got here.’

‘I know, but –’

‘You were the one who flagged the newbie thing,’ said Gary.

‘I know. It just came out. But, like he wasn’t going to find out.’

Gary let out a breath. ‘OK. Do you have everything you need for an overnight stay?’

‘Will I be doing the walk of shame tomorrow? Yes, sir.’

Bob threw Ren his keys and told her to go ahead. Outside, powdery snow fell heavily. Ren walked quickly to the Explorer and got in the passenger side, slipping in the keys so she could listen to the radio. She skipped all the pre-tuned stations and tuned in her own.

What kind of crap do you listen to, Bob?

He came out five minutes later.

‘What is that crap?’ he said, turning off the radio. He started the engine. ‘Right, we’re taking a little detour to the hospital. You can meet Corpses Maximus, our County Coroner.’

Denis Lasco was sitting forward in his bed with his back against three giant pillows. He was freshly showered and watching a DVD on a portable player. He pulled the earphones out when he saw Bob and Ren.

‘Lasco,’ said Bob, ‘I see your goddamn name in the paper every week, now this.’ He threw the
Summit Daily News
on to Lasco’s bed. ‘This is
what the townsfolk will be having with their breakfast tomorrow morning. This time you’re not delivering the bad news, you
are
the bad news.’

‘Right, so I’m bad news as the victim of an avalanche,’ said Lasco. ‘A near-fatal blunt force trauma.’

‘This lovely lady is Special Agent Ren Bryce from the Rocky Mountain Safe Streets Task Force in Denver,’ said Bob. ‘And at least I don’t have to say that every day. She’ll be coming to talk to you – not right now, but I thought I’d have you guys meet.’

‘Well, nice to meet you,’ said Lasco.

‘You too,’ said Ren. ‘How are you doing?’

Lasco shrugged, then winced. He picked up the paper.

‘See the nice shit I said about you,’ said Bob.

Lasco read through it. ‘I see the
bulls
hit you said about me. Blah, blah, blah … “we had to make a call. We knew we had a body and a possible crime scene. And Denis Lasco was committed to getting on up there to do his job. But that’s what we’ve come to expect from Denis Lasco.”’ He glanced up at Bob. ‘I like the ass-covering. Don’t think for a second, people, that the Sheriff’s Office marched him up the mountain.’

‘Christ,’ said Bob. ‘Zero to whining … Listen, we’re going to talk to Patrick Transom, the
victim’s brother. Is there anything you can give us?’

‘What – to ease the blow? Like, she didn’t suffer, or something?’

‘I don’t know. You’re the coroner.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Lasco. ‘I’d love to be able to say something, but lying? Not so much.’ He turned back to the paper. ‘Ha,’ he said, ‘it’s like you thought I wouldn’t make it. It’s like a frickin’ obituary. “We love Lasco. We love Lasco. We are anticipating his demise.”’

‘You know you are, actually, a bitch,’ said Bob. ‘Next time a corpse slams into you, I’m going to tell the world you’re a whiner. Who lives in his pajamas.’

‘I’m in hospital.’

Bob rolled his eyes. ‘I swear you go out of your way to piss me off.’

‘It’s why I couldn’t die.’

‘Yeah, well, maybe next time a real live person’ll take you out. An elected official with the trust of the county.’

‘I’m
an elected official with the trust of the county.’

‘All the better – you kill yourself, I don’t have to get involved.’

Lasco let out a long breath. ‘I think I need some quiet time.’ He turned away.

‘The drama,’ said Bob. He pulled the paper
from under Lasco’s fingers and walked to the door. ‘Anyway, welcome back from the dead.’

‘To
the dead.’

‘Your pals.’

‘My income.’ Lasco sighed. ‘Good
bye
.’

Patrick Transom lived with his wife and four kids in a four-thousand-square-foot log home in Vail, thirty minutes from Breckenridge. Bob drove slowly up the steep curved drive and parked.

‘Wow,’ said Ren, getting out of the car. ‘Nice.’ She kept her face neutral in case anyone was looking out the window.

‘But as my mother used to say – for all their money …’

‘Yup,’ said Ren. She buttoned the top of her jacket and stuck her hands in her pockets.

They walked up the steps and rang the bell. A man in a blue plaid shirt and jeans opened the door.

‘Patrick Transom?’ said Bob.

‘Yes. What can I do for you?’

‘I’m Sheriff Bob Gage, Summit County, and this is Ren Bryce with the FBI.’

Transom stared back and forth between the two of them. ‘Okaay …’

‘Can we come in?’ said Bob.

‘Sure, but … I’m sorry, what’s this about? You can come in, but … you’re making me nervous. Is everything all right?’

Bob put a gentle hand on the door and sidestepped Transom. Ren walked in after him.

‘Why don’t you take a seat?’ said Bob.

Transom moved quickly to the sofa and sat down. His eyes were pleading; a sixth sense had taken over.

‘You may have heard,’ said Bob, pulling a chair out for Ren, taking the one beside her, ‘that a body was found on Quandary Peak.’

Transom nodded. ‘I did, yes.’

Bob looked him right in the eye. ‘I’m so very sorry to have to tell you this, but we believe it was the body of your sister, Jean.’

‘But … but the body is gone,’ said Transom. ‘I heard it on the news. There
is
no body.’ He looked like he was about to stand up. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. ‘There is no body.’ He raised his hands like that was that – no body, no Jean, no grief, no heartbreak.

‘Here,’ he said, pulling his cellphone off his belt and flipping it open. ‘Here.’ He hit number two on his speed dial. He held the phone out to Bob. Bob’s mouth opened, but didn’t move. ‘Here,’ said Transom, holding the phone to Ren. She took it from him and saw Jean’s name flashing on the screen. She closed it gently.

‘I’m so sorry, Patrick, but it was Jean,’ said Ren. ‘The County Coroner, Denis Lasco, identified her body before the avalanche hit. He found her FBI credentials. The last time she was seen was ten days ago. She had gone on vacation, as you probably know. That’s all anybody knew. Following the avalanche, Sheriff Gage, Undersheriff Mike Delaney, and the coroner, Denis Lasco, went through what they had seen of the body and the clothing. They met with Jean’s colleagues from Glenwood Springs, they studied photos, and they all agreed that it was Jean.’

Bob had shifted forward in his seat, but hung there, mute. Transom was looking at him as if he would disagree with Ren. Ren spoke to draw his gaze back to her. ‘I am so sorry,’ she said. ‘So sorry. I wish I wasn’t sitting here having to tell you this.’

Transom was rigid. His eyes were running everywhere. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, looking back to them both, ‘I don’t mean to be … I’m just wondering …are you sure?’

The front door opened and four kids in ski suits ran in, trailing snow behind them. The last one slipped on the wet floor and slammed his head into the side of the sofa. He burst out crying. Ren was the first to make it to him, lifting him up gently from the ground.

‘You’re OK, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘That silly snow, making a mess on the floor.’ He looked up at her through his tears, wondering who she was
and why she was carrying him. Ren looked past him, waiting for his mother. An over-made-up brunette came in the door, leaning down, rubbing snow off a giant black Newfoundland.

Ren was already walking toward her with her crying son.

‘Mrs Transom?’ said Ren.

‘Yes,’ she said, reaching out and taking her child in her arms. She looked around the room at everyone. She gave Ren an extra up-and-down.

‘Who are our guests, Patrick?’ she said.

He turned to the kids. ‘Hey, guys. Straight to bed, OK? You’ve had a late night. Take care of the little guy.’

The eldest girl went to her mom and took her little brother.

‘This is my wife, Ellie,’ said Patrick, when the kids had all left.

Bob stood up. ‘Hello – Sheriff Bob Gage from Summit County.’

‘And I’m Special Agent Ren Bryce with the FBI.’

‘Oh,’ said Ellie.

‘Jean’s dead,’ said Patrick. His voice was flat.

Ellie looked at him like it was his abruptness that had caught her off guard, not what he was telling her.

‘Your sister, Jean?’

‘Of course it’s my sister, Jean,’ said Patrick. ‘Who else would it be?’

‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ she snapped.

Ren stared at her.
What the hell is wrong with
you?
‘He’s in shock, Mrs Transom. Please, sit down.’

‘I’m sorry. I’ve never … he’s just not like that.’

A real Southern Belle. Manners over all. ‘I’m sure he isn’t,’ said Ren.

Ellie walked around the back of the sofa and came in to sit beside her husband, putting her hand on top of his. It was an odd connection.

Ren sat down beside Bob.

‘What happened?’ said Ellie.

‘We don’t know yet,’ said Ren. ‘But her body was found on Quandary –’

‘Oh my,’ she said. ‘The missing body? That one?’

‘I wish I could tell you something else, but yes,’ said Ren.

‘Are you going to recover it?’ she said. ‘You
are
going to recover it.’

‘Maybe not,’ said Transom.

They all looked at him.

‘I worked Ski Patrol,’ he said. ‘I know how it goes. If it’s unstable up there, no one’s going to go up, right? No point in risking real lives for a dead body. So you’ll have to wait months until the snow melts. Am I right?’

Ren was happy to leave that one to Bob.

‘Well, if you’ve worked Ski Patrol …’ he said.

‘So, OK, let me get this straight,’ said Ellie. ‘You have no body, but you’re saying Jean is dead.’

‘It’s Jean, honey, OK?’ said Transom. ‘It is Jean. Do these people look like fools to you?’

Again, Ellie looked like she was listening to a complete stranger. She looked at Ren. ‘My husband is not normally –’

‘Mrs Transom, I’m sorry,’ said Ren, ‘but your husband is not normally told he has lost his only sister and her body may not be recovered for months.’

Ren could feel Bob’s thigh clench beside her.

Ellie turned to her husband. ‘Oh, honey. This is terrible news. This is just terrible. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’ She started to cry. She put her arms around him. He fell against her and it was only then that Ren saw how close they really were.

Bob and Ren gave their speech and their cards and left the Transoms alone. Ren looked at Bob with sad eyes. She leaned on his arm to walk down the icy steps.

‘That was one hell of a lucky break, that he worked Ski Patrol,’ said Bob.

‘Can you imagine?’ said Ren. ‘I can’t believe we got off so lightly.’

‘Christ, though,’ said Bob, ‘we didn’t even show him a photo, an ID, a scrap of clothing, nothing and he took our word.’

He opened Ren’s door.

‘I know. But,’ she said, getting in, ‘he’s in total shock. He could come around and flip out. Or his
wife could put pressure on him. Or on us. The media could get a hold of him –’

‘I don’t know,’ said Bob, ‘he seems a calm type of guy. Like that kind of outside influence wouldn’t affect him.’

‘But we only had two seconds with him before he realized something was wrong and started to react. I mean, what does two seconds tell you?’

‘I just don’t think he’s the hysterical type …’

They drove in silence for a little while. Bob reached over and turned on the radio to Ren’s least favorite – Seventies rock. She sat tight.

‘Transom’s what? Twenty-eight, twenty-nine?’ said Ren. ‘Their daughter must be seven. Is it me or are people who marry really young and have loads of kids trying to make up for a shitty childhood?’

‘Spoken like the true single and childless.’

‘Excuse me?’ said Ren, smiling.

‘How about,’ said Bob, ‘their childhood was so amazing that they wanted to continue the tradition?’ said Bob.

‘Hmm,’ said Ren. ‘I like your idea better.’

‘There you go,’ said Bob. ‘Be sunny.’