Killing Season: A Thriller

“The only thing that’s going to make me feel better is a marble bathroom and a tub filled with hot water and bubbles. You were right, Vicks. I’m a wuss. I’m not doing this again.”

“A smart person knows her limitations.” He opened up another bottle of water and drained it. Maybe the best thing to do was to show by example. “You can do what you want, hon, but I need to piss. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re leaving me alone?” She grabbed his wrist. “I’ll go with you. I’ll close my eyes.”

“It’s like twenty feet away.” He gave her the bear Mace. “Please don’t use this on me by mistake.”

“Where’re you going?”

“See that tree and that bush?” Ben pointed with his stick. “Right there.”

“I want to go with you.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” As he started up the hill, she came after him. “Stop it! C’mon!”

She stopped. Gorgeous girl, but a sissy. They made them soft in the city. She was rooted to the same spot and gripping the Mace when he returned. “Uh, I can take this back now.”

She didn’t answer, remaining as still as stone. He had to pry the Mace from her fingers. Her face had turned from white to gray. Ben said, “What’s wrong?”

Slowly she lifted her stick, the tip pointing to an area on the ground about fifty feet from where they stood. She tried to talk, but the words clogged her throat. She didn’t need to say anything. He saw it: a near-perfect seven-by-five-foot leaf-covered rectangle lying below the surface of the ground.

Don’t think, Vicksburg. Do!

He took out his cell. No reception. He took out the GPS. That wasn’t working either. The mountain was blocking the signals from satellites. He’d do it the old-fashioned way, compass and pencil.

He wrote down the coordinates. He drew a map. He made landmarks. He took pictures with his camera. He needed to be able to lead the police back to the spot. Ro hadn’t budged from where she was initially standing.

“Let’s go.” She wouldn’t or couldn’t move. “Ro, we have to call the police.” He took her gloved hand. Even through the suede, her fingers felt icy. “You’re cold. Let’s go warm you up.”

He tugged and eventually she followed like a puppy being leash-trained, walking very slowly without conversation. Ben was worried. Her face was bloodless, her lips were chapped, and she was shivering. The front of her pants at the crotch was marked by a big piss stain.

It appeared that fear had overcome her sense of propriety.





Chapter 16




As soon as they were in her Explorer, Ben cranked up the heat. Ro sat on the edge of the passenger seat, her knapsack still hanging on her back. He took it off and then rummaged through the contents. She had brought along a change of clothes—a pair of knitted leggings, a thick argyle white sweater, and a pair of Uggs. He took out the clothing. “You might want to change. Maybe be a little more comfortable before we go back.”

Ro looked down at her lap. Her lower lip began to tremble. The tears started a few moments later. He handed her the Kleenex box. “You need help, Dorothy?”

She nodded.

He came over to the passenger door, took off her muddy boots and wet socks, and stowed them in a plastic bag. Hoping to motivate her, he unzipped her jeans. She was heat-welded to the spot. “Let’s get the jeans off. Turn around and lift up your butt.”

She did as she was told and he pulled the sodden denim down. Her legs were slim and long. Her panties were white lace and probably soaked as well. He gave her the leggings. “I think you can handle it from this point. I’ll turn around so you can take your underwear off.”

She didn’t answer, but he could hear her moving. A few minutes later she whispered. “I’m okay.”

He went back to the driver’s seat. Her complexion had taken on a greenish hue.

“I feel sick,” she told him.

“Do you need to throw up?”

Without answering, she threw open the door and barfed without leaving the car. When she sat up, her eyes were watery and goop was leaking from her mouth. She took a tissue and wiped her face.

“Water?”

“Yeah. Is it her?” Her voice dropped. “Katie Doogan?”

“I have no idea. But we have to call the police.” His brain was reeling. “I don’t know anyone in the Albuquerque PD other than Milton Ortiz, who was assigned to the Doogan case. I’ll try to get him. He knows me. But there’s a good chance that we’re going to be questioned by someone else.”

“Questioned?”

“You as a witness, me as a suspect.” He smeared his lips with organic lip balm. “’S’right. I’ve been down that road before.”

“A suspect?” A pause. “Why?”

“The police are going to wonder what we were doing hiking in the backcountry. This is what I want you to say.” Silence. “Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“Tell them that you’ll be happy to answer any of their questions. But you won’t answer anything until you have a lawyer present. In this case, the simplest thing to do is to call your dad. They’re not going to mess with anyone from the state attorney general’s office.” She didn’t answer. “Ro?”

“I hear you.”

“Okay. Once your dad is with you, then just tell them the truth. That you just came with me. And you can tell them that I was here looking for Katie Doogan’s body. Because that’s what I’m going to say. If they start asking you pointed questions, your dad will be there to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection. We didn’t do anything.”

“I know, Dorothy. It’ll be okay. But still, ask for a lawyer. That way they can’t question you.”

“Doesn’t that make you look like you’re hiding something?”

“No, it makes you smart. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. As soon as we get reception, I’m gonna call my dad to come down. Then you call your dad. Then we call the police. Say nothing until your dad is with you. You can tell the police I’m obsessed with my sister’s case. You’re not revealing anything new.”

“Okay.” Her eyes were on her lap. “What about the files and everything you have in your room?”

“Uh, good question.” He weighed his options. “Don’t volunteer anything, but if it comes up, tell them. You don’t have to protect me. I don’t need protection.”

“Why would they even think you were doing something wrong? Katie Doogan’s been dead for two years.”

“Let me explain something,” he told her. “The police suspect everyone. When I found my sister’s body, they grilled me, implying that I knew all along where she was . . . and that by finding her, I was trying to be a hero to my family. At the time I was too naive to realize where they were going. Shanks helped me out. I’m wiser now. I know I’m gonna catch heat.”

“Vicks, I was the one who found the spot.”

“You can tell them that, but they probably won’t believe you. Just stick to the truth. Don’t let them rile you. And don’t say anything unless your father gives you permission to talk.”

“Okay.” She took his hand and squeezed. “I’m with you all the way.”

He managed to smile, then turned on the ignition and put the car into drive. “Let me know when you get reception.”

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