“Can you convince Ben to follow your lead?” Shanks asked.
“I can’t convince him to go to a lousy school dance,” she said.
Ortiz said, “And you’re going to bring all of your files, right?”
“I’ll bring you everything I have.” Ben slowly backed away. “See you then.”
When they were alone, Ro said, “You seemed a little . . . apprehensive about divulging your info.”
Ben shrugged. “I’ll certainly give them my Demon files.”
“And Julia Rehnquist?”
“Yes . . . and Jamey Moore.” A shrug. “Looks like I’m done.”
“So why are you going to Berkeley? Let the police handle it now.”
Ben sighed. “Nora’s expecting me, Ro. Please don’t tell Shanks. If I find something, I’ll let him know.”
Nora being Nora Rehnquist, Julia’s mother. Ro turned away and focused her attention on the action below. “They’ve been working for a while.”
“It’s a deep hole.”
A half hour passed. Then an hour went by. At eighteen minutes after ten, one of the techs jumped up and told everyone to stop digging. “I think I found something.”
Margot’s voice: “I need to sit down.”
As Alan and Kevin eased her to the ground, the tech said, “I definitely got something.”
Alan was walking in circles. Margot started to sob. Kevin sat down next to her and slung his arm around his mother’s shoulders. Ro turned her head away from the action, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t look.”
“Sit, hon.” Ben helped her down. “Do you want to leave?”
“It’s okay.” She was rocking back and forth. “I’m okay.”
He shouldn’t have brought her here. But just as she couldn’t control him, he couldn’t control her. He walked away, alone, hands in his pockets, eyes on the grave, as minutes passed one by one by one until they coalesced into an hour, watching the techs pull up bits, analyzing the hints and secrets that the ground had yielded.
Chapter 23
No need to wait for all the details. They left knowing that the grave contained human remains along with clothing and other items. Identification wouldn’t take place until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. It was time to get to shelter. Ro was growing paler by the hour. She needed heat and a bed.
Grandma Pauline was up waiting; Grandpa Ed had retired hours earlier. Once Ben and Ro were settled in separate rooms, Ben slept the slumber of the dead. He woke up at seven, famished, and without remembering any dreams.
Ro was still sleeping, but his grandma and grandpa were having coffee, watching the sun come up. The dining room was compact but had a nice view of their property. A small kiva fireplace was built into a corner, the fire flickering light but not a lot of heat.
The old folks were vital people with straight spines and wide smiles. Pauline was slender and had very long, gray hair—the style set a long time ago by the Indians and made superfashionable by Georgia O’Keeffe. Grandpa was shorter than her by an inch and very broad across the chest. His head was a cue ball.
Their typical breakfast was flour tortillas and dips along with juice and coffee. Grandma Pauline said, “I can make you eggs if you want, Ben.”
“This is fine. I’ll certainly take some coffee.”
Pauline poured a cup and sat back down. “I’ve been thinking, Ben, about redecorating the kids’ dormitory. You’re a little big for a twin.”
“Well, don’t redecorate for my sake.” He tore off a piece of tortilla and dipped it in the salsa—way stronger than picante, but the heat cleared his head. “I’ll be studying at the library a lot.”
“I told you it was fine,” Ed chimed in.
“Maybe he’d like to sleep on a bigger mattress. All of the grandchildren are getting older, so it can’t hurt.” Pauline smiled. “Tell me about the girl.”
“She has a boyfriend, Grandma. We’re just friends.”
The smile retreated. “Well, she seems like a fine young lady.”
“She is a fine young lady. She’s just going with someone else.”
Ed said, “You want to see what I’ve been working on?”
Pauline said, “For goodness’ sakes, it’s seven fifteen in the morning.”
“Grandpa, we’ll have lots of time to work together after the first of the year. I’ll be here all the time.”
“Yes, I suppose.” Ed stood up. “I’m gonna get the paper.” He left the room.
Ben said, “I believe that my presence is changing the family dynamics.”
“Oh, he’s always like that. He lives in his head.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“You are a lot like him.” She leaned over. “It took him over a year to ask me out on a date. I was dating someone else and almost gave up.” She pointed to the bedroom where Ro was still sleeping. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She likes you.”
“Yes, she does. She also likes her boyfriend.”
“Who in this world is better than you? The answer is no one.”
Ben kissed her cheek. “Thank you for putting us up.” His phone vibrated. He looked at the message, then stowed the cell back in his pocket. “I’m going to wake up Sleeping Beauty. School and all that jazz.”
“I’m going to redecorate the room whether you give me input or not, Ben. You might as well speak up.”
“What colors were you thinking about?”
“Something warm—yellows, golds, and oranges. What do you think?”
“I like it. Knock yourself out, Grandma.” He tore off a final bit of tortilla and scooped up a healthy dose of salsa. “Wow, that’s good but really strong. What’s in there? Essence of newt and ghost chili peppers?”
“I’ll wrap some up to go for you.”
“Just put it in the gas tank of my car. With that as fuel, we’ll just jet-propel ourselves back to River Remez.”
At that hour the streets were quiet, although Ben was assiduously avoiding congested areas like the university. UNM had several locations but the main one was in Albuquerque, located on historic Route 66. Unlike Los Angeles and Chicago, the cities of New Mexico still retained old-style motels and diners and even a couple of drive-in theaters. Things moved slowly in the Land of Enchantment. To Ben, New Mexico was the bomb. To everyone else, it was the home of the bomb.
The sun was washing over the peaks of the mountains, bathing the crests in gold light: blinding reflections that hid the mysteries within. It was almost eight, rush hour on the highway. By nine, most of it would be almost over. He said to Ro, “You want to stop and get some breakfast?”
“I wouldn’t mind some coffee.” She turned to him. “Have you eaten?”
“Just a little salsa. I’d love another cup of coffee. I don’t want to make you late for school but we’re going to hit traffic if we leave now. How about Larry’s? It’s open twenty-four hours.”
“Do they serve lattes or is it swill from an urn?”
“It isn’t girlie coffee but it isn’t swill either. It’s actually pretty good.”