Blood Runs Cold (6 page)

Charlie Barger lived in a three-story Victorian house, all peeling paint and haunted charm. The garden was an overgrowth on the pretty street – moments away from a council warning. Ren rang the doorbell. A redhead opened the door, dressed in pink thermals with tiny dogs on them. She was wearing frayed imitation Uggs.

‘Hello,’ said Ren.

‘Yeah.’

‘Mike Delaney from the Sheriff’s Office sent me to see Dr Barger. I was up on –’

The woman was staring past her.

‘I’m sorry. Is that OK?’ said Ren.

The woman faked a smile. Her clothes made her look younger than she was. There was something worn about her face, the skin dry and loose.

‘Yeah, come on in.’ She had no interest. ‘He’s out back in his study. It’s past the bathroom on the right.’ She called out: ‘Dad. It’s for you.’

Ren walked into the hallway after her. Her sour air seemed to have tainted the entire place.

Ren knocked on Dr Barger’s door. He opened it and from the grim hallway she was brought into a warm, old-fashioned study, a blend of academia and small-town, personalized medical attention. Leather, mahogany, walls of photos, ethnic artifacts, a thick bunch of laminated conference IDs on lanyards hanging from a nail in the wall. Lying on the floor along one wall were curving stacks of papers and files.

Ren pointed to them. ‘Don’t you worry they’ll fall over?’

Dr Barger turned his drooping eyes to her and smiled. He was in his late sixties, early seventies, with a lined, but healthy face.

‘I know most of what’s in there,’ he said. ‘So you’re Mike’s friend?’

‘Yes,’ said Ren, ‘we’re working together.’

Barger nodded. ‘I’m guessing it’s the body on Quandary.’

‘Yes.’

‘And Mike was worried that, with your headache, you’d end up being another corpse.’

Ren smiled. ‘Probably.’

Barger ran through all the checks and sat back on the edge of his desk. Ren eyed him with panic tugging at her chest. Every time she went to the doctor, she secretly expected him to tell her it was all over, that he had uncovered something terrible.

‘Water, water, water,’ said Barger. ‘No alcohol. No coffee.’

I don’t know which is worse. ‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘How can you function otherwise? You’re dehydrating yourself. If you were at sea level, there’d be twenty-one per cent oxygen in the air. Up here, it’s eleven. And there’s a lot of tissue fighting for that. Your brain needs the most, so it’s the first thing to go.’ He tapped the side of his head. ‘You could end up with the cognition of a small child …’

‘I don’t need oxygen deprivation for that.’ Ren smiled.

Barger smiled back. ‘You can’t fool me.’

‘I can’t do no coffee, though,’ said Ren. ‘That would mess with my brain more.’

‘Then just drink extra water.’

‘OK. Thank you. And thanks for taking the time to see me.’

‘Not a problem. Tell Mike I said hi.’

‘I will …’ She stood up. ‘Um, what do I owe you?’

‘Seventy dollars.’

Ren paused. ‘Oh, OK.’
Thief
.

As Ren walked to the front door, Shannon Barger was ahead of her, walking into a room on the right-hand side. Ren couldn’t help glancing in. She saw the muscular back of a man bending to pull on a pair of jeans.
Commando
. Shannon caught Ren looking as she turned back to close
the door. Apparently the only real smile Shannon Barger had to offer was a smug one. s

Casey Bonaventure, auburn-haired and full-lipped, stood in front of her cameraman at the base of Quandary Peak. Mike Delaney and Bob Gage stood a few feet away from her.

‘That wardrobe choice must have slayed her this morning.’ Mike’s voice was low in Bob’s ear. ‘Serious, glamorous, outdoors. Crime scene, pretty mountain, viewers …’

Casey was dressed in a green ski jacket and matching pants. She sucked in an icy breath and started.

‘A chill wind has blown through the picturesque resort town of Breckenridge …’

‘Sweet Jesus,’ said Bob quietly.

Casey went on. ‘On the snow-white slopes of Quandary Peak, the discovery of the body of a dead female set in motion a chain of events that ended in a second tragedy when an avalanche claimed the life of a local volunteer rescuer. And a third tragedy when the body of the dead female was swept away in the slide. Sheriff Robert Gage and Undersheriff Mike Delaney, also at the scene, escaped with minor injuries. County Coroner Denis Lasco remains in a stable condition at Summit County Medical Center.

‘In contrast to the sun you see shining here this afternoon, a dark cloud has descended on the quiet
community of nearby Breckenridge as they awoke to a terrifying tale of high-altitude horror. Mystery surrounds both the death and the identity of the female, who has been described as “in her thirties or forties”. A source close to the investigation has indicated that this was not a skiing accident, that this woman was the possible victim of a homicide.

‘Law enforcement officers are working tirelessly to develop leads, their task made all the more difficult by the absence of the body. The FBI arrived early this morning, no doubt to offer up additional resources.’ She paused. ‘Let’s hope, for all our sakes, this is one trail that will not run cold. I’m Casey Bonaventure –’

When she had finished signing off, she saw Bob to her left. He had turned at an angle to talk to Mike. ‘No one can accuse the girl of not writing her own reports.’

‘Shit. Here she comes,’ said Mike, quickly stepping back to his right.

‘One, two three,’ said Casey, signaling to the cameraman. She paused. ‘I’m here today with Sheriff Robert Gage of the Summit County Sheriff’s Office. Hello, Sheriff Gage.’

‘Hello, Casey.’

‘How are you holding up?’ she asked with a concerned face.

‘I’m doing OK,’ said Gage. ‘My thoughts now are with the family of the brave young volunteer who lost his life.’

‘As are all our thoughts,’ said Casey, ‘Is there anything else you can tell us about yesterday’s events?’

‘I think you got it all covered, Casey. I can confirm that the body of a woman in her thirties or forties was discovered yesterday afternoon on Quandary Peak. During our recovery of the body, an avalanche was triggered.’

‘And the body?’

Bob paused. ‘Was lost in the slide.’

‘And this morning’s search is to recover that body?’

‘Yes, it is, Casey.’

She kept the microphone to his mouth. Bob was done.

She held her breath, then struck up again. ‘And the volunteer rescuer? Do we have any more information on him or her?’

‘Not until next of kin have been notified. No.’

‘And the FBI presence here today? That would confirm reports of a homicide?’

‘The FBI presence here today is a welcome addition to the team investigating yesterday’s events.’

Casey held the microphone steady. Seconds went by before she nodded. ‘Thank you, Sheriff Robert Gage.’

She turned back to the camera. ‘We’ll see you at the top of the hour with an update on the story unfolding here at Quandary Peak. Who knows
where this particular trail will lead? I’m Casey Bonaventure …’

After sign-off, she turned back to Bob. ‘Bob –’

‘Casey, sweetheart? Don’t come crying to me when your producers prematurely ejaculate all over a story. They send you out too early for anyone to make any sense of my crime scene, your story, the victim’s ID, what in the hell happened – everything. Every time you show up, we tell you we have nothing yet. And every time, you stick that damn camera in my face and expect me to do the hard work. To do
your
job. I have my own job.’

‘You know where I’m coming from,’ said Casey.

‘You’re paid to talk,’ said Bob. ‘I’m not. But, if I have to, I’d rather have something to say.’ He muttered as he walked away. ‘How about a snowy cascade of suspects, a winter wonderland of weirdoes, an icicle of … something that begins with “i” …?’

Ren sat at her desk in the Sheriff’s Office, a bigger, cheaper, shinier desk than the one she had at Safe Streets. She was thinking about self-sabotage – not for the first time.
Altitude sickness could happen to
anyone
. But she had drunk a lot of contributory factors. There was a bottle of Fiji in front of her. And three more on the floor beside her. Robbie Truax, Colin Grabien and Cliff James walked in.

‘Aw, look at her,’ said Robbie.

Ren smiled patiently.

‘The loser,’ said Colin.

‘Are you feeling better?’ said Robbie.

Ren nodded. ‘I am. I have drunk more water in four hours than –’

‘Alcohol, hopefully,’ said Colin.

Yeah, yeah, yeah
. ‘I actually wasn’t drinking last night,’ she said. ‘I had just arrived here, as you know.’ She turned to Cliff. ‘So, what did I miss?’

‘Not a lot, I’m afraid,’ said Cliff. ‘The cadaver
dog sat down, barked – his “alert” to show he picked up a scent – but his handler said that could have been from Sonny Bryant. Apparently the smell of death kicks in the moment a person dies. And we all smell the same dead, so it’s not like the dog can distinguish …’

‘Do we?’ said Robbie.

‘Yup, apparently,’ said Cliff.

‘That’s kind of depressing,’ said Ren.

‘Oh, you want to smell especially different when you’re dead?’ said Colin.

‘Shut the fuck up, Colin,’ said Ren.

‘So the dog was indicating there was a scent there, but he didn’t physically find anything,’ said Cliff.

‘So,’ said Ren, ‘what’s the plan for going back up?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Robbie. ‘It was risky heading up there to begin with. SAR’s saying no way.’

Ren took another mouthful of water. ‘Shit.’

‘You want to look at the photos?’ said Robbie.

‘Sure. I love your photos. You really are very good,’ said Ren. ‘You could have an exhibition – Truax: Scenes from Scenes.’ If the location was interesting, Robbie shot landscapes from crime scenes.

Ren reached out for the digital camera.

‘Am I going to find any photographs of an intimate nature here?’ she said.

‘Only the ones we took on Colin’s desk that night,’ said Robbie.

Ren turned on the camera. The first series of
photos were exterior shots of a bank the task force had been surveiling. She ran through them quickly and got to the morning photos at the trailhead and up at the site. She reached for her bag and her USB cable and downloaded them into iPhoto.

She put her elbow on the desk, rested her chin on her hand, and started to go through the photos slowly. The guys took seats at different computers and started searching databases and making calls. When Ren reached the last of the photos, she went back to the start. She stopped at one, zoomed and leaned in close.

‘Robbie? Did that cadaver dog get in there before you took these?’

Robbie shook his head. ‘No. Jesus, why do I always get a hard time about contamination …’

‘No, you don’t, baby,’ said Ren. ‘No, it’s just that, look – are those paw prints in the snow?’

Robbie came over to look. ‘Paws? Are you sure?’

‘Looks that way to me,’ said Ren. ‘But I’m not exactly Ren of the Mountains.’

‘Could it have been an avalanche rescue dog?’ said Robbie.

‘There was none,’ said Ren. ‘It would have been too late. I went into everything with Bob: it was snowing when they were taking the bodies down, but there was no snowfall later that night. So, something was up there after the body was recovered, but before this morning.’

Colin and Cliff came over.

‘I don’t know,’ said Colin. ‘It’s either shadows in the snow. Or it could or critters.’

‘Yeah,’ said Cliff.

‘What do you think?’ said Robbie, squeezing Ren’s shoulders, looking over them.

‘Could there have been a dog up there last night?’ said Ren.

‘And if there was?’ said Colin.

Ren shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but it’s interesting.’

‘Why?’ said Colin.

‘Jesus. Did you drive your mama nuts when you were a kid?’ said Ren. She ignored the smart-ass face she could see reflected in her laptop screen. ‘And look,’ she said, pointing again to the photo, ‘right around here, there are other markings too, little disturbances in the surface.’

‘It’s just … I’m wondering why those paw prints – if that’s what they are – would matter a damn,’ said Colin. ‘What – you think some other dog already found the body?’

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘I mean, you looked all over that snow when you went back up, right? You would have noticed if something had been dug up, covered over. You couldn’t hide that. You would have seen where a shovel had tamped down the snow. It would be harder. And there was no snowfall to cover it up after.’

‘Yeah,’ said Colin. ‘That’s my point.’

‘And
my
point is that paw prints up there are interesting,’ said Ren.

‘And possibly completely irrelevant,’ said Colin, walking away. The others moved back to their desks.

Ren went to close iPhoto, but she hit a folder and sprung open a screen full of her and Vincent’s smiling faces – alone or hanging out with their friends. They were holding up random objects, bending over furniture, pointing at things, flashing wide grins. She smiled. And felt miserable. She scrolled slowly through some more, but every one tried to draw emotions from places she had locked up.

‘Where’s Gary?’ she said, closing her computer.

‘With Bob and Mike,’ said Colin. ‘I think they just got back to Bob’s office.’

Ren got up and went in to them, forcing herself to take a bottle of water with her.

Bob was alone on a phone call. He smiled at her and gave her the signal he was nearly done. She grabbed a Jolly Rancher from a bowl by the window and sat down. The television was on a shelf behind her, silent but tuned to the news. Bob finished up.

‘So, how you doing?’ he said.

‘I’m fine. I’m fine,’ said Ren.

‘Good.’

‘I believe we didn’t get much up there today.’

‘We got nothing.’

‘I saw the photos,’ she said. ‘It looked like maybe a dog had been up there already.’

Bob gave her a big-deal shrug.

‘Who knows?’ she said. ‘So … why do you think the body was left on Quandary Peak?’

‘Because that’s where she was killed,’ said Bob, deadpan.

‘Jurisdiction-wise, the Sheriff’s Office has got the unincorporated parts of the county. Anything not in the township is yours, right?’ said Ren.

‘Right,’ said Bob. He paused. ‘Aha – you’re saying this could be a killer who just wants
me
to take charge of the investigation, knowing that the case will never be solved …’

Ren laughed. ‘Shame on you. But you know what I mean about Quandary Peak.’

He shrugged. ‘It might have some significance. Or it might not.’

‘I’d understand if they were going to throw the body down a mine shaft,’ said Ren, ‘it’s a good place to dump a corpse. Not convenient, though. But leaving it just laying there …’

‘We don’t know where that body started out,’ said Bob.

‘Yeah, but it’s not likely it was in a mine,’ said Ren. ‘The killer would have to be some mean weightlifting, skiing, Houdini.’

‘It could have been opportunistic,’ said Bob. ‘Someone’s up there, runs into her, kills her.’

‘If I was hiding out in below freezing, I’d be too numb to pounce on anyone. I don’t know, but I guess I’m imagining a struggle between two
people in snowsuits, like inflatable Sumo wrestlers. It wouldn’t be easy.’

‘Not everyone wants easy. And not everyone kills in slim-fitting clothing.’

Ren smiled. ‘And no body, no trace, no prints …’

‘Yup. The lab is not going to be our friend on this one.’

‘But time is,’ said Ren, standing up. ‘Can you get all your guys together?’

‘Sure.’

‘OK. I’ll get Gary, we’ll go talk to them. I’d like them to be
very visibly
all over town right away. Plagues of locusts. We have agents coming in from all over, but me, Colin, Cliff and Robbie will be working out of here for as long as we need to.’

‘Is that so?’ He smiled.

‘If you’ll have us …’ she said, smiling back. ‘Oh, and if your guys could report back to me directly, that would be great.’

Her cellphone rang. ‘Excuse me for one second,’ she said.

‘Agent Bryce, hello – it’s Patrick Transom here.’

‘Oh, hello, Mr Transom.’ She looked up at Bob and shrugged.

‘I was speaking with Sheriff Gage and I know that Jean’s body hasn’t been found. He said the next step was just to wait. That’s a very hard thing to do. Have you or does the FBI have a different view on that?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said Ren. ‘Nature isn’t helping
any of us on this one. We went up as soon as we could, and that’s all we can do right now.’

‘OK,’ said Patrick. ‘OK. Uh … I was down at the trailhead and I saw you leave early. I didn’t get a chance to go over and talk to you. I was just wondering if there was somewhere important you needed to be …’

What?
‘I’m sorry, I …’

‘Oh,’ said Patrick, ‘just that – were you called away from the scene to, I don’t know, investigate a lead or something?’

Jesus Christ
. ‘No, I wasn’t,’ said Ren.

‘OK. Then why –’

‘My colleagues have given me a full report of their visit to Quandary Peak, Mr Transom. And I have another meeting to attend now, I’m afraid.’

‘Sheriff Gage said that there was no trace evidence found.’

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘I’m sure you can appreciate the massive disturbance of an avalanche. But despite what …’
you see on television
‘… you might think, very few cases are solved because of trace evidence. It’s usually down to good old-fashioned investigation. And as you know, we have the best resources possible at our disposal.’

‘Yes, that’s true. Well, I’ll let you get to your meeting. Thank you for taking my call.’

‘Any time,’ said Ren. ‘I’m sorry we were unable to recover Jean’s body today, Mr Transom. I really am.’

‘Me, too.’

‘Take care.’ Ren put the phone down. She looked at Bob. ‘Wow. Intense.’

‘“Good old-fashioned investigation”,’ said Bob. ‘I liked that.’

‘Shut up.’

‘What was the “no, I wasn’t” all about?’

‘He spotted me leaving the trailhead early. It was a bit creepy.’

‘That’s not creepy. He was there, you were walking by. It’s not like he’s showing you grainy footage he took of you on his cellphone from your backyard.’

‘That is true,’ said Ren. ‘I just don’t like the feeling of being watched.’

‘Gives you the feebie-jeebies?’

Ren smiled. ‘I just hope he’s not going to be on my back for this. He’s a nice man, but …’

‘Don’t worry about that for now, Ren.’

‘I know, I know. I overthink.’

‘I underthink.’

‘Yin–yang.’

‘Dumb–dumber.’