Killing Season: A Thriller

She tripped again and caught her balance. “Maybe I should concentrate on walking instead of bombarding you with questions.”

“It’s not you. I trip all the time.” Ben took her arm and led her down to the riverbank. “This way.”

The waterway was less than a full-fledged river but more than a creek. Whitecaps swirled as cold, crystalline water rushed over the boulders and tree roots. Empty skeletal trees reached up to the skies. Pines dripped dew as the sun began to warm the air. Sometime later Ben picked up the conversation. “There were lots of interesting possibilities for suspects. But like I said, nothing panned out.”

“Anything remotely promising?”

“Shanks put most of his energy behind this boy—Tim Sanchez. He was a year older than Ellen—seventeen. He had a car. He had a wild crush on her that wasn’t reciprocated. Everyone at school told Shanks the same story. He followed her around . . . not exactly stalking her, but staring from afar.”

“Did your sister ever say anything to your parents?”

“Nah. That wasn’t Ellen. People at school said she was nice to him. Maybe that was her mistake, they all said. Plus, he didn’t have a good alibi for when she was abducted. For a while he looked real promising.”

“What happened?”

“They searched the house and his closet and his shoes and the Dumpsters around his house for torn clothing or blood or whatever. They also took his DNA. No evidence against him. They let him go.”

“How were you with that?”

“In the beginning, I didn’t like it. When the DNA didn’t match, I knew it wasn’t him. Now that patterns are emerging, I really know it wasn’t him. It was hard on Timmy and his family. They felt the heat of everyone staring at them. They moved to Montana.”

“What happened to him? Or did you lose track?”

Ben stopped walking. “You never lose track of a suspect, even one who was exonerated. You always think about the possibility that maybe there was more than one murderer. Timmy’s in Missoula. He’s a sophomore. When Katie Doogan was abducted, he was taking an exam in American history. I’ve actually talked to him a few times, asked him what he thought about what happened.”

“What’d he say?”

“He didn’t know anyone who’d want to hurt Ellen. He was devastated when she was kidnapped. Even more devastated when people were looking at him like he had something to do with it. He fully cooperated with the police. It’s not him.”

The water began to roil as the distance across it narrowed. They climbed upward. The air was thin, cold, and dry.

“The thing is . . .” Ben looked around. “If it is someone local, that means he’s still around. That’s what’s really scary. He kills here, then he goes west, then he goes east. It’s crazy.”

Ro stopped and took out a bottle of water. “Sorry to slow you down. I’ve gotta catch my breath.”

Ben felt guilty. “You feeling okay? A little light-headed?”

“I’ve been here long enough that I should be used to the altitude.” She tightened the scarf around her neck and covered her mouth and nose. “It’s cold.”

“You want to turn back?”

“We’ve only been walking for a couple of hours.” She took a breath in and out. “My lungs are feeling it. I’ll be okay in a few minutes.”

“I can come back another time, hon. It’s fine. This is my personal issue, not yours.”

Ro took another gulp of water. “Yeah, it is. But now I’m here and involved, and we might as well look for the body. It must be hell on the family—the Doogans. Until they find their daughter and have a proper burial, they’re carrying a heavy weight.”

“That’s why I didn’t want you to come. Not that I don’t appreciate the company.” Ben noticed she was still pale. “Maybe you should have a Balance Bar or something.”

“That might be a good idea.”

“For both of us.” He took out the snacks and they ate without talking. When she told him she was good to go, they continued onward. The time went by quickly, an hour of walking and looking until he heard something. He grabbed her arm. “Stop. Don’t move.”

She froze. She whispered, “It sounds like a bear . . . not that I know what a bear sounds like.”

“It’s late in the season, but . . .” Ben slipped his backpack from his shoulders. He took out a gun, ammo, and bear Mace. “Don’t worry. Got it covered.” He dropped ammo into the revolver.

“You have a gun?”

“I always carry a gun when I go into the backcountry. But don’t tell the cops. I should be nineteen.”

“You actually know how to shoot that thing?”

“I do and so does your boyfriend. We used to go to the range together.”

“When was this?”

“The summer before last.” They heard the growling again. “Yeah, that sounds like a bear. It’s definitely warning us off.”

“What do we do?”

“We turn around and go the other way.”

“What if it comes after us?”

He didn’t answer, took her hand, and they reversed direction. “Stop looking back. We’re fine.”

“I have come to the conclusion that the only fur I want to see is hanging in the Bergdorf salon. And faux fur at that.” She was walking too fast and she stepped in a pool of mud. “Oh God!”

“It’s dirt. It’ll wash off.”

“Ugh, it’s so squishy.”

“I thought you weren’t gonna kvetch.”

“Ursa Major changed my mind.” She made a face. “You actually went shooting with JD? Meaning you two were friends at some point?”

Ben sidestepped the questions. “Hold on a moment.” He unloaded the gun and rechecked to make sure the chambers were empty. Then he stowed the gun in his jacket. He kept the bear Mace within reach. “You should drink. The humidity must be in single digits.”

She took out her water bottle. “You can’t hate JD if you went shooting with him.”

“I never said I hated him.” He pulled her in a different direction. “Let’s try up this way.”

“What’s here?”

“Don’t know. I’ve been around here, but not at these coordinates.”

“You keep coordinates of every place you’ve been.”

“Of course. Why should I retrace something unless I want to retrace?”

“Are there bears here?”

“We’ll find out. Go.”

“Ugh. It’s uphill?”

“We’re going toward the trail. We’d have to go up anyway.”

They walked without talking, two sets of eyes sweeping over the ground, asking it to give up its secrets. An hour more of searching with nothing to show for it. Ro said, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Lots of bushes out here. Take your pick.”

“I’m not gonna go in a bush.”

“If you’d prefer a tree, go for it.”

“That’s disgusting.” She sighed. “I’m fine.”

“Ro, we’re about an hour away from the car. Just do it. I promise I won’t look.”

“That never even occurred to me.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Just go over there and do your business. You’ll feel much better.”

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