Ortiz nodded, hoping to encourage the kid to keep talking. Instead Ben sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “When would you like to meet to look at my stuff?”
“My schedule is probably more open than yours. Pick a day and a time.”
“I’ll look at my school schedule. After the New Year, things will open up for me. Plus, I’ll be down here most of the time.”
“Doing what?”
“Going to school and working.”
“Going to school where?” McLaren asked.
“UNM.”
“You graduated.”
“No, but I’ve been taking math classes there since I was fourteen.”
“Where will you be working?” Ortiz asked.
“Circuitchip. Some people consider my talents an asset to their businesses.”
The kid was definitely an odd duck, but Shanks had always said that. Ortiz said, “Ben, I want to ask you something about your data. Do you just have information on murders like your sister’s or do you also have other kinds of information?”
“Not all the murder cases link up to hers. Very few of them do link up.”
“How many?”
“Those that are really similar to Ellen?”
“Yes.”
“Katie Doogan links up. Maybe there are a couple of other cases. We can talk about them when we go through the data. It’s easier when the facts are in front of my face. Besides, I’d really like to talk to Shanks first.”
Ortiz wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “But you have investigated other murder cases that have nothing to do with your sister’s death.”
“I don’t know how they’re related until I read them. But I’ve read through a lot of unsolved murder cases, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Ortiz cleared his throat. “With the other murder cases that aren’t related to your sister’s . . . do any of them link up to each other?” When Ben’s shrug was noncommittal, he said, “Specifically do you have anything that might help us with the Demon? If you do, son, now is the time to spit it out.”
Ben’s foot started tapping. It was obvious that he knew something. He said, “I’ll take a look.”
“Because if you do have information, I’d appreciate it. We know there are other bodies out there. If you’re not comfortable with me alone, talk to me and Shanks.”
“I’d prefer to talk to Shanks first. No offense.”
“I’m very offended.” But Ortiz was smiling. “Sure, go talk to Shanks. But do it soon . . . this week.”
Ben’s father came back, cup of coffee in hand. “How much longer?”
“I think we’re okay right now,” Ortiz said. “If we find something in the depression, I might have a few more questions.”
William said, “Then we’re going to go.”
Ben said, “Could I talk to Ro for a moment? It doesn’t even have to be in private.”
“I don’t know if she’s done or not.”
“I’ll go check,” McLaren said.
Five minutes later she came back. “Gone.”
Ben blew out air. “I was hoping to catch Mr. Majors to apologize.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” To Ortiz, William said, “If you need anything else from Ben, call me first.”
“I understand.” Ortiz shook Ben’s hand. “I’ll talk to you later.”
As Ortiz watched them leave, his mind went into overdrive. Was Benjamin Vicksburg a strong suspect in Katie Doogan’s murder? No. Was he a suspect at all? Couldn’t rule him out even with the alibi. Was he a suspect in his own sister’s murder? Even less likely. But until those crimes were solved and the killer put away, he had to consider everything.
The infinite possibilities made Ortiz depressed as well as hopeful.
Chapter 20
Ro’s parents had chosen to rent an upscale house perched on the ridge of the Sangres. It was a one-story, free-form adobe that sprawled over the top of the crest and faced southwest, giving the interior a peek of distant downtown Santa Fe and the Jemez Mountains beyond. Ben had never been beyond the hallway—waiting to pick up Haley and Lilly—but it had a big picture window and the view from it was incredible. It was cold outside, probably in the thirties. Clear to the south, cloudy to the north. He knocked on the door, but then decided to ring the bell.
Griffen answered. “Hey.” He walked outside and closed the door behind him. He was in his pajamas. “If I were you, I’d think about turning around. It’s a little dicey inside.”
“They’re pissed?”
“Well, put it this way. My mom’s pissed at me, I’m pissed at my mom, and everyone’s pissed at Ro.”
“Did my name come up?”
“Yeah, Vicks, you’re pretty much at the top of the shit list. Your saving grace is my mom told your mom about Gretchen. She may have bought you a hall pass with that one.”
“I’ll take whatever I can get. How’d that go . . . with your mom talking about Gretchen?”
“Emotional. We all walked away and got coffee and bagels. I went home with you guys, as you know, so that pissed my mom off.”
“That’s why she’s mad at you?”
“I embarrassed her in front of your mom. I try to be patient with her. I know she’s gone through a lot. But I’m not going to die on her. I’m in high school. Just . . . leave me alone.”
“I hear you.” Ben paused. “Is Gretchen’s death still taboo?”
“Today she talked about it. Tomorrow?” Griffen shrugged. “My mom’s gonna need a serious twelve-step program. You don’t unwind overnight when you’re wound up as tight as she is.”
“I need to see Ro.”
“That may be a toughie. My dad’s still yelling at her.”
“It’s important.”
“You go at your own risk.”
Just as Ben was about to go inside, Jane Majors opened the door. She had on navy slacks and a thick white sweater. Her hair was impeccable. Her face was made up, piercing blue eyes focusing in on his face. “Hello, Ben.”
“I’m very sorry for what happened, Mrs. Majors. It was never my intention to get Ro in trouble or put her in danger. I apologize.”
“I appreciate your words.” She looked at her son. “You should come in, Griffen. It’s cold and you aren’t properly dressed.”
He threw his hands up. “You want to knit me a cap with earflaps?”
Ben gave him a gentle shove forward and he disappeared into the living room. Mrs. Majors took in a deep breath and let it out. “I spoke to your mother today, Ben. She’s a lovely woman.”
“Thank you. I’ll pass along your words.” Ben tapped his toe. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I have a word with Ro? I wouldn’t bother you except it’s important. I think I left my notebook in her car.”
Mrs. Majors’s sigh was long-suffering. “Wait here.” Then she seemed to think better of it. “It’s cold. Come inside.”
“I’ll wait here. I’m fine.” He was dressed warmly, but even so, thirty-plus degrees gets real chilly when standing around. He jumped to keep some circulation going. It took about ten minutes. When Ro came out, her eyes were red and swollen. She was dressed in jeans and a red sweater and fluffy slippers. Her mother was hot on her tail.
“Hi,” Ro said.
“Hi. I think I left something in your car.”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t find anything.”