“Shut up.”
“JD’s a big guy, and with a big temper to match. I just want to make sure nothing bad happens.”
“All guys have tempers.” She turned to him. “If I decide to break up with JD, you can come with me, but only if I come with you to look for Katie Doogan.”
“You don’t want to do this.”
“Excuse me, but I do.” A beat. “Where are you searching? In the mountains?”
“Yes.”
“I’m dressed for that. And what’s the likelihood that we’ll find her?”
“The null set.”
“So basically, we’re taking an all-day walk in the woods. Do you even know where you’re going?”
“That’s insulting.”
“I’m just curious if it’s like a random thing or—”
“Of course I know where I’m going.” He sounded aggravated. “Something like this, you don’t just pick random spots. I’ve been doing this for a while. I’ve charted it all out—where they’ve previously searched, where they haven’t searched, where the riverbanks are, where the lakes are. It’s anything but random. I carefully plotted out these pathways yesterday.”
“When you weren’t planning on ditching me next semester.”
“Stop taking it personally. It’s not like I’m going to Timbuktu. I’ll be an hour away.”
“I’ll never see you in school.”
“You don’t anyway.” When she huffed, he said, “Can we stop bickering?”
Ro turned up the volume of the music. Then she turned it down. “How much longer to get there?”
“Around an hour.”
“Will you miss me?”
“I’ll miss seeing you the two minutes we talk every day.” Ben tapped the steering wheel. “How about if I tutor you on Sundays so I get a chance to see you.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “When’s the next time you’re taking the SATs?”
“Mid-January.”
“We’ve only got a month. You’re quick. A little bit of tutoring and you’ll rock it.”
She gave him a smile that was tinged with sadness. She sighed. “Thanks. And I’ll pay you.”
“Not a chance. This is my way of giving something to you. So when all those college boys are chasing you, you’ll think fondly of me.”
Her eyes watered up. Ben handed her a tissue and she dried her eyes. She sat up and stared out the window. “Tell me about Grant Statler.”
“That was a quick change of heart,” Ben noted.
“That’s me, Vicks, in a nutshell. I may get down, but I’m never out.”
Chapter 15
The sky began to lighten, changing from charcoal to deep, evanescent pinks and intense lavenders right before the brilliant golds of sunrise. As they headed toward downtown Albuquerque, the highway was empty, the horizon obscured by the multistoried buildings of a real city. With its steady growth and a population topping the half-million mark, Albuquerque had pushed New Mexico into the twenty-first century. In many ways, Ben thought of it as a small town from the Wild West. If crime rate was any indication of lawlessness, the image fit perfectly. Because of the wide-open space, New Mexico was always a perfect hiding place for fugitives, drug dealers, and transients making their way across the continent.
Ben drove deep into the preserves of the Sandias, keeping a close watch on time because daylight was short. He parked at the trailhead, but kept the motor idling for heat. “We should eat before we go.”
“Nothing like baloney and cheese first thing in the morning.”
“Is that what you packed?”
“Excuse me. No one was up to fix my Ni?oise salad.”
Reaching around to the backseat, he opened his knapsack. “I have egg salad. That’s kinda like breakfast.”
“Sure.”
“Coffee? It’s black.”
“Yeah, motor oil is fine.”
He poured two cups and gave one to her. She wore a blue Cornell sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. Her complexion was alabaster white except for rosy cheeks enhanced by the cold. Without makeup, she had a sprinkling of freckles over her nose that he’d never noticed. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail. The November air was cold and parched and had been that way for a while. Her lips, though rubbed with something greasy, were chapped. Her eyes were moody blue.
They ate quickly and in silence. After a quick bathroom run, Ben handed Ro a walking stick and adjusted it for her height. The trail he had mapped out contained several estuaries that emptied into the Rio Grande. Though rescue parties had searched the area many times, Ben just had a feeling that Katie’s resting place was near water.
The sky was pale and there was a cold breeze as they started up the trail. No talk, which was good. He could focus, hearing the burbling of the water, the rush of wind, the other noises of nature—scampering, cracking, and birdcalls. The trail was compacted dirt—hard under the foot—whereas the ground beside it was filled with brown and gold organic material, all of it sodden. Whiffs of wet paper and pine wafted through the air. After a half hour of hiking, Ro decided to talk.
“Why’d you pick this spot to search?”
“Soil is looser around water, so you can dig a deeper grave. But also . . . when you do this long enough, you have to start thinking like the killer. It’s real easy to get lost off-trail. Everything starts to look alike especially in the dark and in this terrain. It’s impossible to navigate without tools. Unless you have compasses or GPS, which doesn’t work too well here, you need some kind of guide to get back to where you parked your car. The shores of a riverbank are a natural conduit. If you’re burying bodies, you’re probably doing it at night, so it helps if you’re following natural landmarks.”
“What are you looking for?”
He stopped walking and glanced around. “I look at the topography. I’m looking for sunken ground. You have to look really carefully because at this time of year everything is covered in leaves.”
It was weird—explaining what he did. He took out his compass and marked the location in a notebook. “Okay.” He used his walking stick as a pointer. “We can cut through here to the creek and follow it north. If you go up the trail, the rise is pretty quick. If you’re carrying a body in the dark, you’re going to choose a route that’s direct. Let’s go. Use your stick. There are tree roots you’re not going to see.”
“How many times have you explored this area?”
“Twice.” She stumbled and he caught her. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
“I’ll go slower.”
“Appreciate it.” Ro walked with care down the hillside. With each step, her boots sank into piles of leaves. The ground was soggy and irregular and some of it was muddy. She appeared nervous. She said, “Then you think that Katie Doogan is buried in a deep grave.”
“Yes. That’s what happened with my sister and I think the cases are related.”
“You think he planned it—premeditation.”
“Yes.”
“And he’s someone from the area?”
“Someone who was familiar with the locale. A lot of local people were questioned. Nothing came of it.”