More clicking.
“To get from Berkeley to Mount Diablo, you take the . . . it looks like the Interstate 80 south to a Highway 24 to Interstate 680 to the town of Alamo. Then maybe you have to take streets—Stone Valley, Green Valley, to Alameda Diablo. There may be a more direct route.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. “Hi. Feeling better?”
“A little. How are you doing?”
“I dunno, Ro. With this new case, it’s getting too close to home.”
“We’re only a little over a month away from the winter solstice. You’ve got to tell Shanks.”
“Let me sort this out first.”
“Vicks!”
“Nothing’s going to happen in a few days. Let me get my head on straight.”
“I’ll give you two weeks . . . to the end of November,” Ro said. “But if you don’t say something by then, I will.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to Shanks.”
“When?”
“Right after Thanksgiving. I swear I will go into his office and show him this article. Just let me get myself organized. Can we go back to what I pulled up in Tennessee? Let me try to make some sense out of . . .” More Google Maps. “Gatlinburg is also in the Smoky Mountains and is much closer to Knoxville . . . ten miles as the crow flies.”
“That’s about thirty miles closer to Knoxville,” Ro said. “So why did he choose Cosby?”
“Cosby is close to Dollywood.”
“What?”
“Dollywood.” He regarded Ro. “You know . . . the Dolly Parton theme park?”
“Who is Dolly Parton?”
“God, you are so city. She’s an old-school country-music star with a great voice. Wears big blond wigs and has ginormous breasts.”
“We have a killer who likes country music? Or maybe ginormous breasts? That would be half the population of the flyover states.”
“Uh, you’re living in a flyover state.”
“Not by choice.”
“Stop being such an elitist. There is something beyond Manhattan.”
“Yeah, there’s Boston, I suppose.”
Ben rolled his eyes and enlarged the map. “Okay . . . here we go. It looks like Cosby is closer to Interstate 40. To get from Knoxville to Gatlinburg might not be as direct. Might be more appealing for him to drive on a big highway. Less likely to be spotted than on some country back roads. But I’m not familiar with the place, so I could be way off.” He rubbed his eyes with his fists. “I can’t concentrate anymore. I’m too shaky.”
“Then let’s quit.” Ro looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go to cheerleading practice. To be honest, I’m glad to be going. It’ll feel very good to do something so insignificant. This is just . . . it’s too big for us to handle, Vicks.”
“I’ll go to Shanks. Just give me . . .” He sighed. “I’m a jerk for dragging you into this. I don’t know why you’re doing this with me, but you’ve been a huge help. Thank you.”
“Wanna pay me back?”
“Anything. What do you need?”
“Homecoming’s in two weeks. It would mean a lot to me if you came.”
He groaned inwardly. “Dorothy, I know you’re going to be homecoming queen. And I’m really, really happy for you.” A pause. “You don’t want to make me suffer, right?”
“No, but I still want you to come.”
“It’s like two weeks away. I don’t have a date.”
“I could get you a date. I’m sure Lisa Holloway—”
“I have no interest in her, okay?”
“What do you have against poor Lisa?”
Keep a lid on it, Ben. “Why is this so important to you?”
“’Cause I like you more than anyone else in the entire school and I want you to be there in my moment of glory.”
How could he resist such a naked plea?
“If it’s that important to you, Dorothy Majors, I will come to see you in your moment of glory.” He grimaced. “Do I have to come to the game and the dance?”
“Yes. I’ll get you a date for the dance.”
“No, I am going stag.”
“You can’t go stag.”
“Then I’ll take Haley.”
“You can’t take your sister. That is so loser.”
He thought a moment. “I’ll take Haley and Lilly.”
“Vicks, they’re fourteen!”
“But together they’re twenty-eight.” He grinned. “If I take Haley and Lilly, I’ll have to take Griffen . . . and then I’ll have to take Ezra for Lilly.”
“So that leaves you stag again.”
“I’m going stag. That is not up for negotiation.”
A sigh. “Okay. Go stag. Sit by yourself in a corner. See if I care.”
“For as much as we talk in school, I might as well be hidden in a closet.”
Ro looked hurt. “I’m not embarrassed to be your friend.” When he didn’t answer, she said, “Maybe it’s the other way around.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m always inviting you to be with me and my friends. You never ask me to sit with you. You never ever call me up.”
Ben knew he was trapped. Silence was his best option.
Ro tossed her hair back, waves of golden amber. “Then it’s settled. You’ll be at the game and at the dance for me. No backing out.”
“God. Okay. I’ll go.”
She grinned. “You really are my favorite person.”
“And you’re mine as well. Let’s get married.”
“I’d make you miserable, Vicks.”
“I know. And I’d make you miserable. But it would be fun while it lasted.”
Chapter 13
Thanksgiving, for Ben, was the most tolerable of the holidays because it was filled with relatives and there were no expectations about his behavior. It used to be that Mom hosted the meal, but after Ellen’s death, she lost her flair for cooking and entertaining. No matter. There were plenty of kinfolk to pick up the slack. The Vicksburg and Weil clans were on a rotating schedule. This year dinner was in Albuquerque with Grandpa Ed and Grandma Pauline. Mom came from a family of four children, who in turn produced families of three to four children. Ben’s dad’s parents—Louise and William Sr.—would be coming in from St. Louis. Ben had tons of aunts and uncles and even more cousins—some married with kids of their own. The amount of people varied—never fewer than fifty and sometimes as many as eighty. Henry usually drove down from Santa Clara, often with a kid in tow from one of his ex-wives.
This year, as always, the feast was a mix of traditions. Santa Clara cuisine used the traditional triad of corn, beans, and squash as well as yams and potatoes. Grandma Louise and Grandpa William drove in with the turkeys—two deep-fried and one barbecued—and two honey-glazed hams. The cousins did a spread of southwestern specialties. Grandma Pauline baked all the desserts and the corn bread. Grandpa Ed’s specialty was latkes—potato pancakes traditionally served during Chanukah. Since most of the family wasn’t Jewish, he felt he had to get his own heritage in somehow. Ben’s family was in charge of the flowers and the table decorations.