Killing Season: A Thriller

“I’m not applying to Caltech—”

“I want you to stop probing into this shit, Ben. You did all you could and now leave it up to the experts. If Shanks said he’ll talk to people, he’ll talk to people. Go out and be seventeen. By your age, I had already knocked up my first wife.”

Ben laughed. “That’s what I should aspire to?”

“If it’s a choice between knocking up a girl or facing down the U.S. government, yeah, that is what you should aspire to.”

Ben pulled up in the driveway. “Thanks for your help, George.”

“Just remember what I told you. No more.” George stared out the window again. “From what you told me, the guy operates every nine months, which would put the date of his operation closer to the summer solstice.”

“He could deviate.”

“Doesn’t sound like it. Sounds like he’s on a nine-month schedule.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Ben felt the pie churning in his stomach. “I’m afraid he’s coming back to River Remez to start the cycle all over again.”





Chapter 8




In the boyfriend department, Ben got the sex part down pretty quickly. It was the other things in which he needed tutoring. Ro knew who Vicks was. Or rather what he wasn’t. He wasn’t inconsiderate or rude or harsh or mean. But he was absent. Even when he was around, which wasn’t that often given their conflicting schedules, his mind was elsewhere. She knew he loved her, but his brain functioned differently from that of any guy she’d ever met. He rarely texted, he rarely called. She initiated all of the interaction between them. They saw each other on weekends, but the distance and his lack of checking in made it hard to keep a relationship going.

In the beginning of February, on a Sunday, they were alone in her house and in her room. It wasn’t particularly girlie, but it was set up just the way she liked. She had an enormous closet and a makeup area in addition to a functional desk. Her bedding was all pastels and whites and filled with soft, downy pillows. But she doubted whether Ben had ever noticed any of her things. His thought process was always thus: her, alone, a bedroom, sex.

But today, she had other things on her mind, and he was aware enough to know that she was peeved. He wore his usual T-shirt and jeans and sneakers. Once in a while she wished he’d put on a regular shirt. He looked good when he dressed up.

He said, “Something bothering you?”

“Good call,” Ro said.

“What’d I do?”

“It’s what you don’t do. You never call me. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t?”

“No. You don’t.”

“Okay. I’ll call you more. I thought we talked all the time.”

“That’s because I call you.”

“Oh. Okay.” He thought a moment. “I can see where that would be annoying. Sorry.”

He said it so plainly and so logically. Ro said, “You have a chance to make it up to me next week. It’s Valentine’s Day. This is what you’re going to do, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I want roses when I wake up in the morning—a dozen red roses. I’m very conventional. You pick me up later and take me out to a romantic dinner and then top it off with a blingy gift. Is that clear enough?”

He was writing the instructions down in his phone. When he was done, he stowed the phone in his pocket. “Got it.” When she sighed, he said, “It’ll be perfect. I promise you.” He kissed her. “Really. I promise.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Can we make love?”

She hit him.

“That’s a no?”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

Ro shook her head and started unbuttoning her blouse. Sometimes she made love to him because she wanted to and it felt really good. But there were times, like today, when it was just something to do, something to pass the time so she wouldn’t get annoyed at him.



Valentine’s Day: no roses waiting in the morning. Nor was there even a phone call. Ro had checked her cell a dozen times, then the message machine on the landline. She was about to call him, but then she thought better of it.

Fuck it.

By the time she made it to school and opened her locker, she was furious. What did it take to get through to him?

Or maybe he just didn’t care.

Her cheeks went wet. She saw JD staring at her. The boy looked real fine and that made her even madder. There was still that spark with him, and with Ben’s absence, it was growing stronger. She quickly averted her eyes, but he walked over to her and placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She managed a smile. “Really, I’m okay.”

“Okay.” He pressed a small wrapped package into her hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sugar.” When he saw the surprise in her eyes, he said, “If I’m supposed to be wooing you back, I have to play the part.”

“What is it? A plastic ring?”

His smile was wide. “Why don’t you open it and find out?”

She tore open the paper and lifted the lid on the box.

Inside were small gold hoops, each with a tiny yellow diamond. They were gorgeous. She couldn’t speak.

“Try them on,” JD urged. She did and he nodded. “Beautiful. But it’s the girl, not the jewelry.” He leaned casually against the locker. “Look, I know that Vicks probably has something planned—”

“Not that I know of,” Ro blurted out.

JD was silent. Then he said, “O-kay.”

She checked her phone. Still no damn call. “Thank you very much.” She kissed his cheek. “I love them.”

“Ben isn’t taking you out?” JD asked.

“I wouldn’t know. He hasn’t called.” When JD laughed, she hit him. “It’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not ha-ha funny.” JD shrugged. “It’s just ironic funny. He worked so hard to get you and he doesn’t have a clue how to keep you.”

“Excuse me? Talk about not being able to keep a girl.”

“At least I knew I was fucking up. Vicks is just oblivious. He’s not a bad guy, Ro. But his mind doesn’t work like yours or mine. Let me take you out for dinner. He obviously forgot.”

“No, he didn’t. He wrote it down in his phone.”

“After you told him what to do, right?”

Ro didn’t answer right away. “He loves me.”

“I know. What’s there not to love?”

“I love him.”

“Fine. He loves you and you love him. I get it. If he doesn’t call, can I take you out?”

“If he doesn’t call by four, you can take me out for coffee.”

“Girls go out for coffee, Ro. I go out to eat. Let’s go to Kiki’s. It’s casual enough that it’s not a real dinner date but they serve great burgers. Deal?”

“Don’t you have practice?”

“Not today. I think Coach has to do something for the missus.” The bell rang. “I’ll upgrade you to something better than Kiki’s, but tell me soon. All the good places will be booked up.”

“He’s gonna call.” She was talking to JD’s back. Then she checked her phone again.

Faye Kellerman's books