Within moments, Shanks was surrounded by Ben’s parents and the principal. Mr. Beltran said, “Do you have any ideas about this, Detective?”
Sam eyed Ben. “We haven’t had a recent rash of slashed tires, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m talking about punks and vandalism. What about those idiots who spray-painted the Palace of the Governors?”
Ben turned so his hot face wouldn’t be noticed. Sam said, “That was Santa Fe. I’ll check with them. Maybe they’ve had some similar property crimes.”
“You do that,” Beltran said. “One of the things that makes this community great is the people. If we let them down, what do we have?”
“A bunch of let-down people,” Sam answered.
Beltran bristled. “Just find out who did this. It would be a sad state of affairs if the school district had to resort to policing their own property. Let’s not waste any more taxpayer dollars, okay?”
Shanks kept his expression flat. “I’ll give it my full attention, Mr. Beltran. Last thing I want to do is deal with angry parents.”
After the principal left, Sam pulled Ben away from the crowd, and none too gently. “Okay, Vicksburg, spit it out!”
His parents followed. Dad wagged a finger in Sam’s face. “Why are you coming down on him, Sam?”
“Because he knows something about this.”
“I don’t know anything!” Ben insisted. “Why are you yelling at me?”
“I’m not yelling, I’m asking. And I’m asking because you’ve been up to something. You know how I know that? Because you’re always up to something.”
“Why are you connecting this juvenile act to what I do?”
“First of all, it’s not juvenile. Juveniles spray-paint. Juveniles key cars. Juveniles even steal cars. But juveniles generally do not slash the tires of random people. And if they do, they don’t slash all four tires. To do that, it takes muscle. It takes time. It takes deliberation. Are you honestly telling me that this was random?”
“I’m honestly telling you I don’t know who did it. I parked my car and went into my prom. When I came out with my date, my tires were cut.”
Sam softened his tone. “The uniformed guys handle things like this. I’m a detective. You called me down and you must have had a reason for it.”
“Actually, Ro called you.”
“I thought you didn’t see her anymore.”
Mom said, “She’s been at the house for the last few weekends. They’re doing something that has to do with my daughter’s incident.”
His own mother was ratting him out. Ben looked around. The crowds had thinned a bit. Haley and Lilly were talking to Ro.
Sam said, “Should I be talking to Ro? Was she your prom date?”
“No. I went with Lisa Holloway.” Ben pointed her out. “She was with me the entire time. Maybe she saw something that I didn’t.”
Shanks eyed him suspiciously. “You stay here while I get a statement from her.”
As soon as Shanks left, William Vicksburg turned to his son. “What the hell is going on? And be honest because this is scaring the crap out of your mother and me.”
Mom burst into tears. “What have you gotten yourself into?” She was openly sobbing. “I haven’t suffered enough?” She stepped away and tried to get control of her emotions.
“Ben, does this have something to do with Ellen’s murder?” Dad didn’t wait for an answer. “You and I are going to have a serious talk.”
“Dad, I will tell you everything I know.” Ben lowered his voice. “But do you honestly think that this is the work of a sexual psychopath? Slashing tires? C’mon!”
“Do you know who did it, Ben? And I don’t mean who slashed the tires.”
Ben knew he meant Ellen’s murder. He was beginning to feel very uncomfortable sitting on the information, no matter how it was obtained. He was going to have to tell Shanks everything. And that was going to happen tonight. “No, I don’t know who did it, Dad. If I did, he’d be dead. But I have some ideas.”
His mother butted in. “What are you talking about? Ellen?”
“Nothing,” Dad said.
“Now you’re keeping information from me too?”
Dad weighed his options. “He has ideas about Ellen.”
“About who did it?”
Shanks was still talking to Lisa. Ben said, “I don’t know who did it. That’s the truth. I have lists of names . . . of who it might be.”
“And you haven’t told the police?”
Ben regarded his parents—his father and then his mother. “I got the names illegally.”
His father licked his lips. “What did you hack into?”
“I didn’t hack into anything. And if you ask how I got the names, I won’t tell you. I’d rather go to jail—”
“Ben, stop being so damn melodramatic. That’s Haley’s department.”
“It has to be Ro,” Mom said.
“No, it’s not Ro,” Ben lied. “She has nothing to do with anything. She was just there for moral support. I didn’t hack into a computer system. But what I did wasn’t legal.”
Laura shook her head. She wasn’t buying it. “Where does Ro work, Ben?”
“Ro works?” Dad said.
“She does. She got a job when they broke up. And now they’re seeing each other again. They lock the door to his room. They’re in there for hours. And I know it’s not about sex.”
Ben’s face went hot. “Mom!”
“What do you do with her, Benjamin?”
“Nothing.”
“Six hours every Sunday, you two sit around and do nothing?” Mom was furious. “Where does she work?”
“She’s a waitress.”
“Where?”
“Ask her.”
“I’m asking you!”
“She works as a cocktail waitress at the Jackson Lodge.”
Mom turned pale. “You hacked into the database at the Lodge and found his name in the registry. And you haven’t told us? You haven’t told Shanks?”
“I don’t know his name, Mom! If I knew his name, I’d tell the world!”
“Who are you even looking for? Why do you think he stayed at the Jackson?”
“It’s a long story, Mom.”
“Then it looks like we’re staying up all night.”
Ro had materialized. Ben’s mother stared at her. “Lovely dress, Dorothy.”
“Thank you.” Ro’s eyes were on the ground. Then they looked up at Ben’s dad. “I’m eighteen now. And I’m hiring you as my lawyer.”
“Done,” Dad said. “What’s going on?”
She kept her voice very low. “I overheard you, Mrs. Vicksburg, and you’re right. We do have information from the database. We don’t know exactly who we’re after, but we have ideas.” She turned to her ad hoc lawyer. “I didn’t hack into anything, Mr. Vicksburg, because I was allowed to use the computer system when I worked the desk. But I went beyond my duties as a desk clerk. I’ve been printing out data: names of guests starting from roughly six months before Ellen’s murder and going forward. Ben and I have been going through the names one by one by one.”
Ben’s father was stunned, half in disbelief and half in admiration. He said, “What makes you think that the son of a bitch stayed at the Jackson?”