Killing Season

by Faye Kellerman

“Ro, I’m not coming back tonight. I’m sleeping over at my grandparents’ house.”

  “I’ve always wanted to meet them. Or I can come back with Shanks. Please, please?”

  “All right, all right.” Mr. Majors waved her away. “Just take her with you, Ben. To tell the truth, I’m too damn tired to deal with her histrionics anymore. Just watch her like a hawk. She’s your responsibility.”

  Ben didn’t want that responsibility, but the cosmic wheels were turning and fate did what fate always did to screw him up. Ro let go of his arm. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to go put on shoes.”

  “Hiking shoes,” Ben shouted out.

  Mr. Majors said, “Son, I’m giving you a chance to redeem yourself. Don’t disappoint me. And think about Princeton. If my daughter had your scores, it would be a done deal.”

  They left him alone on the sidewalk. The smart thing to do would be to just get in the car and drive away. But when it came to Ro, he wasn’t too smart. The problem was he really liked her. And on some level, he knew she liked him. If he told her about JD’s indiscretions, she’d break up with him in a heartbeat. But she’d also wind up hating him for ratting JD out.

  Some math theorems took a lifetime to prove. Some took centuries. Others were still unsolved, waiting for some young mind to make a name for future generations. One thing math taught him was patience.

  All good things come to geeks who wait.

  Chapter 21

  When she got in the car, Ro knew that Vicks would be angry. After she quickly packed an overnight bag, she took time to make up her face and look as nice as possible. But once on the road, she was also aware that Ben had things on his mind other than her beauty. Thinking about the abducted girl not only made her nervous, it made her incredibly sad.

  During Gretchen’s treatment, Ro, along with Griffen, had been strongly encouraged to attend sibling support groups. Griffen had always found the members meddlesome and the group useless. Occasionally, Ro found the sessions helpful since no one at home was talking. Other times all the intense talk and sharing made her incredibly anxious. Though she would never admit it to anyone, especially her parents, she was happy to escape New York and go somewhere where she’d be anonymous.

  Like her mother, she had wanted to get away from death. Now it was hitting her in the face. Her heart was beating and her breath quickened. She wanted Ben to calm her down, but he was so focused on his own thoughts, she knew he would be useless. Truly she didn’t know what she was going to say to the Doogans. Perhaps the smartest thing was to say nothing.

  Through the windshield, she peered at an evening that was cloudless and cold, a million stars gazing down from an inky sky. The road had poor lighting and Vicks was driving quickly, as if he’d done it a thousand times. They drove for a while until they passed the turnoff for the Cochiti pueblo.

  About three weeks ago—it was on a Saturday—to get their minds off of murder, she and Vicks had taken a trip into Santa Fe. They walked through the plaza and under the portico of the Palace of the Governors—a seventeenth-century building—where Indians from the pueblos sold their crafts and jewelry. Dozens of artisans—mostly silversmiths and jewelry makers but also potters—had spread out their wares on blankets. Tourists gazed down on the items, scrutinizing each piece while the Indians sat placidly, reading, eating, talking with one another, and trying to make a living with their creative output. Vicks had bought her a Cochiti storyteller—a group of ceramic Indian ladies molded in one piece. They all had their mouths open. It was a spontaneous gift and it touched her deeply. Not that it was all that expensive, but he saw her staring at it and purchased it when she wasn’t looking. She kept it on her nightstand and said goodnight to each gal before she switched off the light.

  Vicks had turned on music. Aside from the satellite radio, the ride had been silent. She began to bite her nails. Ben gently laid a hand over hers to stop the compulsion. He seemed to have read what was on her mind. “They’re nice people. Don’t worry.”

  Ro said, “Like, what do we do?”

  “We don’t do anything,” Ben said. “We just wait.”

  “How long, do you think?”

  “No idea.” He blew out air. “I told my grandparents that you might be staying over.”

  “What do you prefer? I mean, I can go home with Shanks.”

  “He’ll probably be there the better part of the night.” A beat. “It depends if you can miss school or not.”

  “If I’m going to write a college essay about this, I suppose I want the total experience.” Tears formed in her eyes. “You know I’m not gonna do it, right?”

  “I know.”

  “This is horrible.”

  “I hope it’s Katie,” Ben said. “It would be nice if the Doogans could give their daughter a proper burial.” Another pause. “You wouldn’t think that it was a big deal. Dead is dead. And we knew that Ellen was gone way before we found her. But it is a big deal. Not just for my parents, but for me. To have a place to visit, to honor my sister’s memory. To lay flowers at her grave. To talk to her.”

  The car fell silent.

  “How often do you visit?” Ro asked.

  “We’ve been going on her birthday, the anniversary of her burial, and on Christmas. Sometimes I go by myself. What about you?”

  “On the anniversary of her death and on her birthday. Not on Christmas, although we should. It’s so pathetic in our house now. Mom makes this huge dinner on Christmas Eve—that no one eats—because she’s so depressed. This year, I don’t know what we’ll do. It’ll be pretty bad. Want to come over, Vicks?”

  “Before or after I visit my own sister?”

  “Either, both. I can go with you to the grave.” She took a swipe at her eyes. “The only thing this year that’ll save the day from being a total washout will be the winter dance.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. It’s the night of Christmas Day.”

  “Are you coming?”

  “No. But the kids would probably like it. Why don’t you take them? Griff is your brother.”

  “Well, if you’re definitely not coming, I’ll take them.” Silence. Then Ro said, “I worry about you. No one can remain on fire without burning up. I know you think that I’m a slave to having friends and having fun and being popular. And there’s truth in that. But if I don’t take my mind off what happened, it just eats at me like psychological cancer. Then my mother loses two daughters instead of one.”

  They passed the turnoff for the Santo Domingo pueblo.

  Ben said, “Ro, I’m glad that you’ve found a healthy way to adjust. It’s just not me.”

  “The thing is, Vicks, when it first happened, I didn’t want to do anything either. I forced myself. And it worked out okay. Maybe you should force yourself as well.”

  “I’m not interested in school dances.”

  “You could go to the movies once in a while.”

  “Not with your friends.”

  “So maybe instead of looking at murder files, we’ll go to the movies. Just the two of us.”

  “Thanks for trying, Ro, but your tenacity is misdirected. Don’t let me bring you down.”

  Ro didn’t answer him. “What were you like before Ellen died?”

  “Wow.” He paused. “Let me think. My life has really been divided into before and after. I used to go skating. I used to go snowboarding. I was pretty good at one point.”

  “What about now?”

  “Haven’t gone since it happened.” He thought a moment. “I was different before it happened, Ro. You would have hated me. I was a real prick. I thought I knew everything. I was belligerent, I was impulsive, and I was really sarcastic. I drove my parents crazy. I argued with everything they said. I thought they were incredibly stupid. I found Haley to be a real pain in the ass. Lilly and she bugged me constantly. I wasn’t very patient with them. More than once I slammed the door in their faces.”

  He paused.

  “I liked Ellen.” His eyes moistened. “She was such
a nice person. It wasn’t that she was the most popular girl in school. But she was well liked. More than that, she was respected. At her funeral, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.” He smiled. “JD and Weekly bawling like babies.”

  Ro looked at him. “JD came to the funeral?”

  “Of course he came. His whole family came. The entire community showed up.” He wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve. “How can I explain this to you? I’m not really friends with those guys. But I know that if I needed something, I could go to JD or Salinez or Martinez or Weekly or any of the others and say, ‘Hey, I need your car or some money or to crash at your house for a couple of days.’ And they’d give me whatever I needed. And I’d do the same for them.”

  “You’d do that for Weekly?”

  “Of course. We’re not mortal enemies just because we punched each other. That’s just guys, Ro. When we were in grade school, we were always beating on each other. Mainly because school was so fucking boring. High school used to be a joke. Then a group of parents including my own started raising money to improve the school. It’s still boring but at least we’ve got some dedicated teachers and a few classes that don’t put me to sleep.”

  Ro was cold. She turned up the heater in the car. They passed the San Felipe turnoff. Ben said, “Before I forget, could you do me a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Go into my backpack and put the gun and ammo in the glove compartment. It’s not loaded.”

  “Sure.” She retrieved the backpack, and took out the weapon and the box of bullets. “It feels really weird to hold it. My parents are so antigun. They’d freak if they knew you had one.”

  “You didn’t mind it when we heard that bear.”

  “They’d freak if they knew I went hiking in the vicinity of bears.”

  “If you hike in the backcountry long enough, you’re going to come into contact with critters.”

  “Ben, I grew up in Scarsdale, which is a wealthy suburb of New York. My parents are liberals through and through. They are politically correct, antigun, pro-choice, and most of all, staunchly against anything Republican.”

  “Then it’s good you came to Santa Fe. It’s called the City Different for a reason. We’re a refuge city—not only for illegals, but also for old hippies, dropouts, and slackers. Which is fine. I’m socially liberal. But I am a law-and-order conservative.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “If I ever find the guy responsible for Ellen’s death, I’m going to push the needle into his veins myself.”

  “Ugh!”

  “Not ugh. Right on! If I could torture him before I killed him, I would.”

  “No comment. Then again, my sister wasn’t killed, so I’m not going to judge.”

  “Ellen wasn’t killed, Ro, she was murdered. Killed implies a car accident or falling from a roof. Murder means some bastard knowingly and willingly and probably with sexual pleasure snapped her neck. And when I find him, he is going to die!”

  “I hear you.” She almost brought her thumbnail to her mouth but thought better of it. “What happens if a cop pulls you over and you have a gun in your car?”

  “I tell him it’s in the glove compartment and my dad has permits. This is my dad’s car. It’s considered an extension of his house. If it was in your car, it would be illegal. That’s why I hid it.”

  They passed the turnoff for Sandia.

  Ben said, “It’s a few more miles of freeway, then we’ll have to travel the streets. We’ve got about another half hour.”

  “Okay.” Ro was really nervous about meeting the Doogan family. “If I act like a jerk, just nudge me.”

  “Why would you act like a jerk?”

  “Sometimes I hide my anxiety with perkiness.”

  “Why’d you come?” Ben asked her. “It’s not a trick question. I really want to know why you’re putting yourself through this.”

  “Honestly, I came to be with you. I didn’t want you to endure this alone.”

  Ben smiled. “No matter what happens in the future, Dorothy, I don’t think I’ve ever had a better friend.”

  “Thank you.” A pause. “So maybe you’ll consider staying in school full-time next semester. It’s like five more months of high school. What’s the rush to become an adult?”

  “I’ve already signed up for UNM. I’ve already signed the internship papers for Circuitchip. But I will miss seeing your beautiful face even from afar.”

  “You think I’m beautiful?”

  “Of course you’re beautiful. JD is right when he says you’re the hottest girl on the planet.”

  “My charms aren’t working very well on you.” Ben said nothing. She said, “Come to the winter dance.”

  “I can’t, Ro. I made plans.” A pause. “I’m only telling you this in case I die or something, so you’ll know the truth. I promised my mother I wouldn’t lie again, but I can’t tell her the truth. I don’t want either of my parents to know.”

  “Now I am intrigued. What’s going on?”

  “I told my parents that I was going to visit my friend—the one I told you about. Grant Statler. He’s at home with his family in L.A. for winter break—and I might go visit him. But my objective is to go to the Bay Area in California.”

  She didn’t speak right away. “Does this have to do with Julia Rehnquist? Like I have to ask.”

  “I’ve been in contact with the family for two months. They’ve agreed to talk to me. I’ve got this chance. I’m not going to blow it.”

  “Vicks, I understand your obsession with Katie Doogan. You know the family. It happened on the heels of your sister. Julia Rehnquist was abducted over nine hundred miles from your sister.”

  “Don’t waste your breath.”

  “God, it’s like you go from one death to another to another.”

  “And another and another until I find him! You said yourself that he’s going to repeat it. What should I do? Wait until he comes back here?”

  “No, you should go to Shanks, not gallivant all over the country.”

  “I’m going to Shanks. This week, like I promised. I also promised Ortiz. I’m giving them my stuff.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it. Are you going to meet with the detective on the Rehnquist case?”

  “Derek Whitecliffe. Maybe.” He paused. “I made plans to meet with the Rehnquists months ago, FYI.”

  “Yeah, well, things change, Vicks, and so should you.” She held up her hand to stop him from answering her. “But that’s not going to happen. Instead I will wish you luck.”

  “Thank you. Very nice to wish me luck instead of saying I’m an obsessive weirdo.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You thought it, right?”

  “I can barely control my mouth. But my thoughts are my own, Vicks. And if that pisses you off, too damn bad.”

  Chapter 22

  There were barriers about a hundred yards from the trailhead. A black-uniformed police officer stopped them, pantomiming to them to turn around. Ben rolled down the window. “I’m with Detective Samuel Shanks from the River Remez PD. Can you check with him, please?”

  “Can’t leave the post. You have to turn around.”

  As if on cue, Shanks materialized. This time Ben pressed the electric button and the passenger glass disappeared. He yelled out, “Sam.”

  Shanks turned around and jogged over to the car. To the uniform, he said, “It’s okay. He’s with me.” He turned to the kid. “You’ll have to park down the road. You can’t block any access for the equipment.”

  “Got it.” Ben found a place about a quarter mile away and as dark as death. Ro clung to his arm as they carefully stepped over earth and roots until the reflected beams of the klieg lights pointed to a spot down the mountainside.

  Sam was waiting near the trailhead. He said, “You brought a friend?”

  “Dorothy Majors, Detective Shanks. She found the area where the police are now digging.”

  Shanks said, “Congra
ts, Ben. You finally found someone to feed your obsession.”

  “I’m not feeding it,” Ro protested. “I’m trying to stop it. But like any good therapist, first I’ve got to establish rapport.”

  Shanks smiled. “Are you okay, honey?”

  Immediately her eyes watered. Ben put his arm around her shoulder and she nestled into his chest. “If you need to talk to us, we’ll be spending the night at my grandparents’.”

  Shanks said, “How are they all doing?”

  “My grandparents? They’re fine, and that’s from firsthand knowledge. I just saw the clan this past Thursday for Thanksgiving.”

  “How many showed up this year?”

  “Sixty-eight.”

  “Is your grandpa still building rockets?”

  “A man needs a passion.” Ben turned to Ro. “My grandpa worked in Huntsville when he was young.”

  “I have no idea where that is.”

  “Alabama. Marshall Space Flight Center. It’s part of NASA. He’s always worked for the government, but I think that time down south was his favorite. The space program is still in his blood.”

  “Is this the Vicksburg grandparent?”

  “No, this is the Weil. The Vicksburg side was originally from Mississippi.”

  “That makes total sense.” She hit her head. “Duh.”

  Ben stuck his hands in his pockets. He shifted from foot to foot. “Are Margot and Alan here?”

  “Farther down the mountain. Ortiz called them . . . didn’t want them to hear it on the news. He has the dental records. All we need is a body.” Shanks rubbed his gloved hands together. “One part of me really hopes it’s her. I can’t stand the idea of making them go through all this without any results.”

  “Where is Detective Ortiz?”

  “With the Doogans.” Shanks rocked on his feet. “I told them you might be coming.”

  “Do they want to see me? It seems that everyone is looking at me with a wary eye.”

  “They know you by now. No one is seriously thinking of you as a suspect. Not even Ortiz. I saw the videotape.” He looked at Ben with squinty eyes. “Which means I know what you’ve been doing in your spare time and I’m really pissed at you. How long have you been sitting on piles of data?”