“How did you know he wasn’t the one?”
“That would take a while to explain. It’s a little bit of intuition and a lot of inconsistencies. And now this Demon thing has done nothing but obfuscate my sister’s case.”
“Obfuscate . . .” She raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like an SAT word. And yes, I know what it means.”
Ben explained, “One of the cases—practically the only one—that looks like it might connect to Ellen’s is a missing girl down in Albuquerque named Katie Doogan. She went missing about three months before my sister’s body was found.” He had to take a moment before he could continue. “I think they’re related. But Katie is still missing. Until her body is located, I can’t go any farther with her.”
“And what do you propose to do? Go look for her body?”
“I’ve already done that about a bajillion times. My parents connected with her parents, Margot and Alan, at one of the many candlelight vigils for Katie. Her older brother and I used to go looking in the woods for her every weekend for about six months. God, it was like reliving my sister . . .” He paused. “After Ellen’s remains were found, Margot and Alan came to the funeral. They are such good people.”
Silence.
Ben said, “It’s been a while since I’ve looked. Maybe I’ll try again over Thanksgiving. The problem is even if we found Katie and she still retained biological evidence like foreign DNA, it would take a while to process because the New Mexico state lab is jammed, working the Billy Ray Barnes case. What am I supposed to do, Ro? Wait until we get a lucky break? And how many other girls will be murdered in the meantime?”
Ro didn’t answer, still staring at the morbid files strewn across his bed. Her mouth was dry. A small shudder traveled down her spine.
When she had first arrived in New Mexico, she found out pretty quickly where the power was. Within a few weeks, she and JD were an item and that was exactly what she wanted. She liked JD. He was hot, he was built, he was smart, he was funny, and he had the kind of status that gave her status. With JD, she could be popular and respected. She made cheerleader when ordinarily that wouldn’t have happened. She had a good shot at being homecoming queen. She would have the best-looking date for the prom. The guy had it all. But the best thing he had going for him was his lack of seriousness. She was happy to date him, happy to be physical with him. She’d never do him, but she’d do enough that he’d be happy and he could brag to his friends. When they parted, it would be fine.
So long, it’s been good to know ya.
They’d probably never meet again, but if they did—like twenty years from now—JD would probably still be good-looking with a little paunch and a receding hairline. And she, of course, would still be hot. And it would make JD feel good to know she had been his girl a long time ago.
That’s who she was: beautiful, competitive, phony, and a big user of people. She was always the one who demanded to be noticed.
Look at me, look at me.
And people did look at her, because she was gorgeous. It was Gretchen who was quiet and studious. Gretchen who won the academic awards. Gretchen was cute, but she wasn’t a beauty queen. Ro was smart, but she wasn’t brilliant. God had divided the assets fairly. Gretchen was always well respected. Ro was always well liked. Still no one ever said, if only I could be like Gretchen. But a lot of people said, if only I could be like Ro.
Vicks wouldn’t do her any good in the popularity department. He was a step down from JD. Her friends would desert her because JD would mash her into the ground if she dumped him. It was JD who had the power, and without him, she couldn’t compete. But that really wasn’t important to her anymore. The problem wasn’t losing JD. The problem was being with Vicks. She didn’t want to become attached to him. With Vicks, it would be different because Vicks had passion. He cared.
She had wanted a boyfriend whom she liked and a friend who cared. Unfortunately, that friend happened to be a boy whom she was developing feelings for. She didn’t want to care back. Caring was painful. Caring hurt. Caring meant when it was time to part, there would be tears and feelings and all that bad stuff.
“. . . thinking?”
“Pardon?” she said.
Ben said, “I asked . . . what are you thinking?”
“That you can’t solve the world’s problems.”
“I’m not trying to do that. I’m limiting my rather poor resources and gray matter to my sister’s case. Yes, I’m crazy and obsessive, but I can’t help it. I need to find out who did this and then stop him from doing it again.”
“Okay.” She picked up a file and put it down. She took in a deep breath and let it out. “Okay.” She made some room for herself on his bed. “Fill me in.”
“No, no, no. I don’t need help. I just want you to understand that I’m not some weird ghoul with a fascination with death. It’s just Ellen’s death.”
“I understand. You’re not a ghoul. But you do need help. At the very least, I’ll be a fresh pair of eyes.”
“No. Absolutely unacceptable.”
“Stop being paternalistic.” She gave him a weak smile. “See, I know big words too.” Another file showed some postmortem shots. This time the girl’s throat had been severed so badly Ro could see her backbone. She remained resolute. “Stop arguing. Fill me in.”
“Look. Let me just shut down my computer. It’s a beautiful day. We’ll go for a walk—”
“No,” Ro told him. “No, no, no. Just . . .” She patted the mattress next to where she sat. “Sit down next to me, Vicks. Get it all out. I want to know what you know.”
“You don’t really want to be part of all this ugliness, Dorothy. It’s the stuff of nightmares.”
“I’ve had plenty of nightmares. I’m not delicate. Even before I lost my sister, I wasn’t delicate. I was always conniving and political. I’m not arguing with you anymore, Vicks. Sit down and fill me in.”
He sat down and then he spoke to her. Haltingly at first, then like an open sugar canister on the edge of a counter—one small nudge and everything just spilled out.
Chapter 10
“There’s a reason for so many files.”
His pacing was driving Ro bonkers, but she didn’t say anything.
“I have duplicates because I have them arranged in different ways depending on what I need,” Ben was saying. “From the date of the murder—earliest to latest—alphabetical order, region, and method. Whenever there are matching dots on the files, I think that the cases might be related. For instance, these three yellow dots on these three folders, I think there’s something that ties the cases together.”
“Like what?”
“Physical characteristics, age of the victim, the way the victim was murdered, if there was sexual activity, the time of day, the season, where the victim was found, if she was posed or not, how deep the grave was . . . My sister was found in a deep hole. It was just chance that I found . . . that she was found. An animal must have been digging around the area. Just enough to expose . . . her hand.”