by Alex Barclay
‘Just move them out of your way,’ said Kristen.
How many times a day do you have to say that to people?
Ren rolled her eyes at Robbie as they both plucked up cushions and set them on an empty console table.
The room overlooked a flagstone courtyard bordered by blue spruce.
‘I know you had detectives from the Sheriff’s Office here yesterday to let you know about the homicide,’ said Ren.
‘Yes – how terribly sad,’ said Kristen.
Ren nodded. ‘She was only twenty-six years old.’
Robbie leaned forward and took a brochure for the ranch from a stack on the table. ‘Do you mind?’ he said.
‘Not at all,’ said Kristen.
‘The Darned Heart …’ said Robbie.
‘It’s a play on words,’ said Kristen.
No way!
There was no doubt she had explained this a thousand times, but there was clearly no loss of enthusiasm. ‘These kids – or their parents – often feel like they are damned,’ said Kristen, ‘which is a terrible thing when they’re still in their teens. The kids have the strangest type of independence; it’s independence without the emotional maturity to handle it. And without the respect for authority that allows them to accept guidance from people who do. They want to do everything themselves and don’t want to listen to anyone. And then something happens in their lives and they break.
‘It doesn’t matter what their financial circumstances are, they are all, in some way, broken. Their hearts are broken. And we like to think we can help mend that. Darn it.’ She smiled. ‘It’s in honor of my grandmother, who always said you could “knit a problem away”.’
Do not laugh. Do not laugh.
That voice, though.
Kenneth Faule strode into the room, fresh from the shower, broad-shouldered, gray-templed, wide-smiled. They made their introductions.
‘Yesterday’s victim,’ said Ren, ‘her name was Laura Flynn. Does that name sound familiar to either of you?’
Kristen and Kenneth looked at each other. ‘No.’
‘She was a psychology graduate,’ said Ren. ‘Could she have perhaps been in touch about a position here at the ranch?’
‘Well, obviously, we do hire psychologists,’ said Kristen, ‘but we’re not hiring right now, so she couldn’t have been responding to an ad or anything like that.’
‘She may have been coming here speculatively,’ said Kenneth. ‘That’s happened before. People become aware of the ranch for whatever reason and they drop in their résumé, but it’s unusual.’
‘Obviously, we get emails …’ said Kristen.
‘Would you mind checking your inbox, just to confirm that?’ said Ren.
‘I can do that right now,’ said Kristen, going to her desk. She called up her email. ‘OK, I’ve typed in her name – nothing here.’
She sat back down beside her husband.
‘How many staff do you have working here?’ said Ren.
‘Twenty-eight, not obviously all on at the same time,’ said Kristen. ‘That includes canteen staff, cleaners, myself and Kenneth. In terms of the residents, we’re obliged to have a ratio of one staff member to every four.’
‘We provided the Sheriff’s Office with a full list in the last half hour,’ said Kenneth.
‘We appreciate that,’ said Robbie.
‘We’d also like to talk to you about the burning vehicle,’ said Ren.
‘Oh,’ said Kristen.
‘What happened?’ said Ren.
‘It was a disaster,’ said Kenneth. ‘We have a fire pit that the kids sit around certain nights, you know, sing songs, tell stories, that kind of thing. Whatever happened, I guess the fire was still smoldering after last night, Kendall’s car was too close, it went up.’ He shrugged. ‘It was an accident, and we’re going to compensate Mr Kendall.’
‘Well, we’ll see what the lab comes back with,’ said Ren.
‘With respect, I think that’s probably a waste of resources at a time like this,’ said Kenneth.
Hello?
‘A car was found burnt out after the robbery at Conifer,’ said Ren. ‘That’s only a few miles from here. And with the shooting of the young woman …’
Kenneth glanced at his wife. ‘OK … I’m sorry. I guess so.’
‘So, are you having construction work carried out at the ranch?’ said Ren.
‘Yes,’ said Kenneth.
‘We’re building a theater,’ said Kristen, her eyes bright. ‘We’re going to expand our drama program. And we’d like to invite traveling theater companies or bands or singers to come here and perform for the kids.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ said Ren. ‘Could you email us the names of all those who are working on the site?’
Sorry to burst your bubble, Disney girl, but I’m not here to chat about Glee club.
14
Ren reached forward and took a second brochure. ‘Do you mind?’ she said. The center folded out into a map. ‘Can you show me on this exactly where the car was found?’
Kenneth paused, then pointed to the northernmost part of the property. The aorta.
‘OK, thank you,’ said Ren. ‘That area borders Pike National Forest, is that correct?’
‘Yes,’ said Kenneth.
‘And to the east – at the other side of this treeline is Evergreen Abbey?’ said Robbie.
‘Yes,’ said Kristen.
‘Are you sure that the fire was accidental?’ said Ren.
‘Yes,’ said the Faules at the same time.
‘How can you be so sure?’ said Ren.
‘The kids are supervised the entire time,’ said Kenneth. ‘There is no way they could have gotten out to that part of the property without someone noticing.’
And you believe that?
‘It happened very close to Delores Ward’s cabin on the abbey grounds,’ said Ren.
‘Yes,’ said Kenneth. ‘We let the abbey know as soon as we realized. Delores wasn’t there at the time. She wasn’t in any danger.’
‘You were lucky the flames didn’t travel any further,’ said Ren. ‘Would I be right in saying that there’s a boundary dispute between you?’
Kenneth raised his eyebrows. ‘Dispute?’ He turned to Kristen. ‘I wouldn’t call it that, sweetheart, would you?’
‘No,’ said Kristen. ‘We’ve come to an agreement with the abbey, with Eleanor. Relations are very pleasant between us still.’
So no subtle threats …
Ren nodded. ‘It would be very helpful to our investigation if, along with the staff list, we could get a full list of the residents staying here too.’
‘I’m sure it would be,’ said Kenneth, ‘but you know that’s not something we can do. For confidentiality reasons.’
‘You can understand,’ said Ren, ‘that with the issues that some of your residents may have …’ She paused. ‘I mean, these are troubled kids.’
‘They may be troubled,’ said Kristen, ‘but they’re not killers or vandals … or bank robbers, for that matter.’
‘I’m not saying they were responsible for the bank robbery,’ said Ren, ‘but arson is often linked to anger, particularly in teens, and I would venture you have your fair share of angry teens at The Darned Heart.’
‘They’re in therapy,’ said Kristen. ‘They have no need to act out.’
Are you for real? ‘Really?’ said Ren. ‘And what about the kids who have run away from the ranch?’
Kristen looked away. She let out a breath. ‘That’s different. That’s a freedom thing, it’s not about destruction. Lord knows, we all climbed out our bedroom windows at some point in our teens. Didn’t mean we were going to go on a rampage.’
‘You’re very trusting,’ said Ren.
Kristen eyeballed her. ‘And I’m proud to be.’
Ren reached down into her purse and took out a pack of cigarettes that had been there for three weeks, and still had fifteen left.
The real/trick cigarettes.
‘Excuse me,’ said Ren, ‘is there somewhere I can smoke?’ Euphemism for explore …
A flash of irritation crossed Kristen Faule’s face.
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘Do you mind, Robbie?’ said Ren.
He couldn’t help smiling wide. ‘I’ll be right here when you get back.’
Kristen led Ren down a bright hallway and pushed open a back door into a small seated smoking area. She hesitated when she saw a teenage boy sitting hunched at the end of the bench, smoking a cigarette, his head bowed. He was wearing Beats headphones and hadn’t heard them come out. He had very straight, too-dark dyed-black hair that fell to the nape of his neck. He was thin, dressed in blue jeans, a pale blue check shirt, navy blue Converse. He looked like he was trying to appear casual, but failing. The jeans looked fresh from the factory.
Kristen Faule seemed torn between sitting with Ren and leaving her there.
‘Everything at the ranch is confidential,’ she said as she turned and walked away.
‘Of course,’ said Ren. I won’t tell anyone about your knitted ways.
The boy’s cigarette was coming to an end. He turned toward the trash can. He stopped when he saw Ren. He pulled his headphones off.
Words, not music.
He turned off his iPod and put it down beside him.
‘Ma’am,’ he said. Simple, polite, slight drawl.
‘Hello,’ said Ren. What are you in for? She lit her cigarette.
‘This is a beautiful place,’ he said.
‘It is,’ said Ren. What are you in for?
‘It’s peaceful,’ he said. ‘It’s right for these kids. It’s what they need.’
‘Oh,’ said Ren. ‘You’re one of the counselors?’
He nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Just – for the summer.’
‘You look so young,’ said Ren.
His mouth smiled, his eyes didn’t. He could have been cute, except for the starkness of his hair, the advanced age in his eyes, the air of defeat.
Looks more troubled teen than counselor.
He finished his cigarette, stubbed it several times on the side of the trash can, and put it in. He pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his jeans pocket and rubbed some into his hands.
‘Well, I’ve got a lot of experience,’ he said.
He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Ren saw the beginning or end of at least five raised white scars under his left shirt-sleeve.
‘I know where these kids are coming from,’ he said.
Ren nodded. ‘It’s great that they have this facility, that there’s help out there.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Are you here for work?’
‘In a manner of speaking,’ said Ren. ‘I’m part of the team investigating the shooting down on Stoney Pass Road.’
He nodded solemnly. ‘That was a terrible tragedy,’ he said. ‘Hard to believe it could happen somewhere like this.’
‘Did you speak with anyone from the Sheriff’s Office?’ said Ren.
He shook his head. ‘No, but I guess Kristen has me on their list and they’ll be coming my way. A lot of my colleagues have spoken to them already.’
He bowed, looked like he was going to tip an invisible hat, and walked away.
Strange young man. And strangely familiar.
Ren arrived back into the Kristen Faule’s office. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘I’ve tried so many times to quit …’
Kristen gave a tight smile.
Ren turned to Robbie. ‘Well, I think we’re about done here, Detective?’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘If you need anything else, do let us know,’ said Kenneth.
‘Oh, we will,’ said Ren. ‘How many kids are staying here? Can I ask that at least?’
Kenneth and Kristen glanced at each other.
‘Forty-three,’ said Kenneth. It looked like Kristen had no plans to answer the question.
‘Well, thank you both for your time,’ said Ren.
Ren and Robbie walked out to the Jeep.
‘My eyes,’ said Ren. ‘Everything in that room was knitted. It’s like the yarn version of Willy Wonka’s factory.’
‘Chain smoker, Ren …’
‘Yes, I know. I met one of the – very young – counselors out there,’ she said. ‘Definitely a cutter. Scars up his arms … he looked so sad.’
‘Well, they’re probably the best ones to help,’ said Robbie. They got into the Jeep.
‘Or keep you mired in your issues,’ said Ren. ‘I’d like to see hope beaming out from every pore of my counselor. One thing I know is that the Faules are a defensive pair. I am seeing headlines: Faule from Grace.’ She started the engine and drove slowly down the drive.
‘You just want these people to be corrupt,’ said Robbie. ‘You can’t deal with the wholesomeness.’
‘What?’ said Ren. ‘Wholesomeness is a huge part of my life. It is what I aspire and fail to live up to daily.’
Robbie snorted.
What is with sweet Robbie suddenly thinking I’m a cynic?
‘OK, are you ready to put your lil-ole-lady charms to work?’ said Ren.
‘Charms …’ said Robbie.
‘Stop that,’ said Ren. ‘I guess the best thing to do is drive through the abbey grounds as far as we can to the cabin of this nun-in-everything-but-name. Actually, here – take my notebook – look to the last few pages. I wrote her name down.’
He flipped through the pages. ‘Delores Ward?’ he said. ‘Cabin Lady?’
‘That’s her,’ said Ren. ‘Best-case scenario for the Faules: a spark from dying embers set off a vehicle fire. Worst-case scenario: a kid took the car for a great escape, needed an alternative ride to get any further, tried to carjack Laura Flynn, failed, killed her, returned to the ranch and destroyed the evidence.’
15
Robbie knocked on Delores Ward’s door.
‘Solid,’ he said.
‘Important to note …’ said Ren. ‘Door of faux-nun: solid. Check.’
Robbie gave her a patient look.
They could hear the shuffle of feet from inside.
‘Slippers: cozy,’ said Ren.
Delores Ward looked out the small window and they raised their badges. She let them in. The room was all autumn shades of timber, upholstery, fabric, and ornaments. It was neat and tidy. One miniature white fan in the corner was struggling to cool hot air that smelled of damp and wintergreen.
It was hard to know: were the cabin’s dimensions a form of self-denial, or like the drawing tight of a comfort blanket – the world was vast, the abbey imposing; the cabin, just right?
Ren was drawn to the wall covered with dozens of old postcards.
‘How can I help you?’ said Delores.
Let me tear the postcards from your wall! Let me know who wrote to you, Delores Ward. Who did you mean something to, who helped to brighten your little home with four-by-six windows onto the world?
‘We’re here to ask you a few questions about yesterday,’ said Ren. She and Robbie had moved to the long window that overlooked the boundary between the abbey and the ranch.
‘Please take a seat,’ said Delores. ‘I’ll make us some coffee.’
Ren and Robbie sat on the brown sofa underneath the window.
Delores went to the sink and began taking down cups, setting them on a tray. Her movements were slow and almost soundless. She was a woman blessed with good genes. Her skin had barely slackened and any lines she had were concentrated around her eyes. She had short hair in shades of gray, cut as if it were just the practical thing to do, no different to clipping her fingernails.
She poured coffee into two mugs and was about to carry the tray to the table, when Robbie jumped up and did it for her.
‘Thank you,’ she said. She smiled. Robbie drew smiles from people in the same way babies did.
Delores pulled up a stool in front of them.
‘Please, sit here,’ said Ren, standing up.
‘No, no,’ said Delores. ‘I’m fine right here.’
Ren picked up her coffee.
No cookies. And I’m starving. Focus.
‘Now, what can I help you with?’ said Delores.
‘That’s ranch property right through there – at the other side of those trees,’ said Ren.
‘Yes,’ said Delores. ‘There would have been more trees if not for the Hayman fire, ten years back. It thinned out a lot of them.’ She paused. ‘It turns out, this is ranch property too.’
‘I know,’ said Ren, ‘we’re not here about that.’
‘Good!’ said Delores. ‘I’m tired of the whole thing.’
‘Boundary issues are no fun,’ said Ren. ‘But I heard the Faules have been quite understanding.’
Delores raised her eyebrows. ‘They’re playing the long game.’ She paused. ‘They’ve probably put my details into a death clock.’
‘How do you even know what a death clock is?’ said Ren, laughing.
‘Oh, one of the kids from the ranch told me one time,’ said Delores. ‘Sometimes they come to dinner. You never know what they’ll come out with.’
‘We were wondering if you saw anyone hanging around the vehicles over there yesterday around midday?’ said Ren.
‘My eyesight is not what it used to be,’ said Delores, ‘but I know that I heard some voices … male, hard to say what age, though.’
‘Would you have any idea what time that was at?’ said Ren.
‘That could have been anywhere between ten and noon … I went to the chapel then.’
‘Is there anything you could think of that might narrow that timeframe down?’ said Ren. ‘Were you listening to a particular show on the radio, was it before or after you ate your breakfast?’
‘Oh, I have my breakfast at six a.m., sweetheart,’ said Delores.
‘Good for you,’ said Ren.
‘I can’t think of anything in particular that would narrow the time down, no,’ said Delores.
‘Did you take a coffee break?’ said Ren. From what, I don’t know …
‘No,’ said Delores. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.’
‘That’s OK,’ said Ren. ‘Do you see much of the kids from the ranch, apart from when they stop by the abbey?’
