“He’s the one on the Katie Doogan case?”
“The lead detective.” He punched in the numbers. “He isn’t going to be in on Sunday unless—uh, hi, Detective Ortiz?” What luck! He gave Ro a thumbs-up. “This is Benjamin Vicksburg. I met you last year at Katie . . . yeah, yeah, that’s right . . . I’m fine . . . they’re fine, thanks. Um, I really don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to come right out with it. I was hiking with a friend in the Sandias and we found something that looks suspicious . . . no, no remains. It’s sunken ground that looks like a grave . . . yeah, really regular . . . no, I didn’t touch anything. But I did note where I found . . . no, not on the trail. We were off-trail . . . yeah, I know . . . I know . . . um, I’m about a half hour away from the Master’s Park trailhead. This is the first place I got reception. But I can meet you there and show you what we saw . . . okay . . . okay . . . bye.”
Ben blew out air. “That was fortuitous. He’s meeting us at the trailhead. Much better than some random patrol-car officer. You stay warm in the car. I’ll take him down.”
“Uh, no way I’m going to be alone, Vicks.”
“Okay. How about this? Take the car and meet your parents at the Albuquerque PD. I think Ortiz works at headquarters on Southeast. Let me find you the address—”
“I’m not driving in this area by myself. Are you crazy?”
“Ro, if you’re going to hike down, you’ll have to change back into hiking boots.”
“Ugh. They’re disgusting.”
“I’ll put them on for you so you don’t have to get your hands dirty, little Miss Princess.” He started the car. “Call your dad while we have reception and tell him to meet you at the division on Southeast. I’m almost positive that’s where Ortiz works.”
Ro did as she was told. When she was done, she said, “How well do you know him? Ortiz.”
“Not well. He didn’t approve of my hiking in the backcountry. The only people who do that are mountain men, hermits, vets with PTSS, misfits growing MJ, tweakers with meth stills, fugitives who are hiding from the law, and killers dumping bodies. Dorothy, you really need to disassociate yourself from me.”
She was staring out the passenger window. “When I’m with you, I don’t have to be on.”
“Ro, you know what’s going to happen. Your parents are going to forbid you to see me. I’m a little creepy. Even my own father thinks what I do is a little creepy. I’ve got this plan next semester—I really do think about my future—but until the monster is found, nothing else matters to me.”
She was quiet. “How about if you had a girlfriend? Would that matter to you?”
Ben shook his head. “I am so not boyfriend material. Ro, people like you make others happy; people like me make others squirm. I am definitely an acquired taste.”
She changed the subject. “What do you know about Ortiz?”
“I met him a few times during some of the searches for Katie. He was at one of the vigils. I know he’s part Acoma. My grandpa Ed has some distant cousins who are Acoma.”
“The Jewish grandpa?” When he nodded, she said, “How did that happen?”
“In the 1800s, the tribe had a Jewish chief named Silverman. He was a cousin of my great-grandfather Abe, Ed’s father. I think the Silvermans were related to the Weils.”
“So you might be related to this dude?”
“If you stay here long enough, you’re going to be related to everyone.”
She exhaled. “How long do you think this will take?”
“To get back to the trailhead? Fifteen minutes.”
“No. The interviewing.”
“Right. For me, it’ll take a while depending on what kind of mood Ortiz is in. You’ll be out in no time. Once they get wind that your father works for the attorney general, they’ll let you go. My state has honed the fine art of back-scratching.”
Ben was trying to act casual, but his stomach was churning. He didn’t want to talk, so he turned on the music and Ro took the hint. The next twenty minutes passed in tense silence until they reached the trailhead. It was almost two in the afternoon and both of them hadn’t really eaten since eight in the morning. Plus, Ro had upchucked whatever she had eaten. “You need to get something in your stomach.”
“Not baloney and cheese. What else do you have?”
Ben went through his backpack. “I have cheese sandwiches, PBJ—”
“PBJ is fine.”
He doled out the sandwiches. The peanut butter tasted like glue and the jelly was sickeningly sweet. But he ate anyway. Fueling up before the battle.
It took a half hour to reach the suspected spot and the only reason it took that long was Ro. She was deliberate in every step and needed to be. There were lots of hidden roots and rocks, ways to twist an ankle. Ortiz was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt and tie, but he had on a parka and hiking shoes. He was around five eight, with a weathered face and broad shoulders. He had mocha skin, black eyes, and a mop of black hair combed straight back. When the trio reached the clearing, it was Ro who spoke first.
“Right there.”
Ortiz’s eyes fell on the spot. For the next minute, he stared at the spot, arms folded across his chest. “How’d you come across this?”
Ben said, “I’ll answer any question that you want, Detective, but I’ve called my dad and he’s instructed me not to talk until he’s with me. Ro’s been told to do the same.”
Ortiz stared at the kid. “You need your dad to talk to me, Ben?”
He shrugged.
Ortiz kept gazing at the sunken ground. “That does look like something.”
“I found it,” Ro said. When Ortiz looked at her, she said, “I found it. Not Vicks . . . Ben.”
“Was it your idea to hike in this area?” Ortiz asked.
“Sorry,” Ben interrupted. “She isn’t talking until her dad gets here.”
“I didn’t ask you, I asked her.”
Ro said, “The answer is still the same.”
“How old were you when Katie Doogan was abducted, Ben?” Ortiz smiled in a cop’s way. It was supposed to encourage him to be relaxed. “It’s a simple question. Surely you can answer that.”
“Fifteen.”
“I know it’s been a long time, Ben, but do you remember where you were when you learned about her abduction?”
“Clear as a bell. I was with my cousin Henry Naranjo at Santa Clara. He had the TV on. I even remember the broadcasters—Adrianne Jamison and Frank Peoples.”
“Pretty good memory.”
“At the time my sister was still missing. It hit a nerve.”
“Do you remember where you were the day before the announcement?”
He thought hard. “That’s the day she was abducted, right?” Ortiz didn’t answer. He said, “Nothing’s coming to mind.”
“Anywhere near Albuquerque?”
“No, I was in River Remez.”
“Positive?”
“Not a hundred percent, but I was fifteen. I didn’t drive. I can’t imagine why I’d be in Albuquerque unless I was with my parents and we went in for dinner or something.”