“And this same guy abducted Katie Doogan?”
“Most likely, yes. Things match: the age, the physical similarity, the way they were abducted. This guy knew what he was doing, at least with Ellen. Like I said a million times before, a grave that deep takes time to dig. If it’s the same guy, Katie’s body is going to be found in a deep grave near water.”
“So we’re back to a serial killer.”
“Yeah.” Ben was quiet.
Shanks said, “What’s on your mind, Vicks?”
The kid sighed. “I blew it, Sam. I really did miss something. It came to me in a dream. I feel like an idiot.”
“If you missed it, I missed it too, which makes me a double idiot.” Sam sipped coffee. “Tell me.”
“Ellen was abducted on June twenty-second. That’s a day away from the summer solstice.”
Shanks stared at him for a moment. “You’re right. Katie Doogan was abducted in the wintertime. There was snow on the ground.”
“Up here in the mountains there was snow on the ground, but not in Albuquerque. According to the calendar, it was spring. Near the vernal equinox—March twenty-first. The summer solstice is usually on June twentieth or the twenty-first. Me, being a stickler for dates, didn’t even think about those dates. Then I read the chart and we talked about Katie Doogan and I thought a little bit more. And then it hit me.”
Shanks buried his head in his hands. “I’ll check it out. See if we have other homicides that take place on these . . . earth days.” A sigh. “Trouble is we might pull up quite a few incidents on those days, Ben. The dates are ripe for satanic rituals.”
“Right.” The kid threw his head back. “I didn’t think of that.”
“So . . . what do you think about the murder being done by a satanic cult?”
“If it was a cult, it wasn’t your typical teenage satanic ritual. My sister’s grave was way too neat and organized for a bunch of tweaking adolescents. But that doesn’t change what I told you. I think the murderer liked those dates—earth days as you call them.”
Shanks nodded. “I’ll post a bulletin and send it out to other police departments. See if anything comes in.”
“Thank you.”
Shanks eyed him suspiciously. “Do you have anything else to tell me?”
“No,” Ben said. Too quickly. “If I come up with anything else that looks good, I’ll let you know.”
“What do you mean if you come up with anything else?”
The kid stood up. “I don’t want to waste your time. I tell you things I think are important. Thanks for taking me seriously.”
“Ben, I always take you seriously.”
“I aggravate you.”
“And that’s proof that I take you seriously. It would be much easier if I could blow you off.” Shanks eyed him. “Where are you going next year?”
“Going?”
“For college?”
“Oh. Probably UNM. Maybe St. John’s.”
“The college where you read the classics?”
“I do know how to read.”
“Don’t you have, like, a perfect grade point average? Why aren’t you thinking about other schools like the big ones?”
“Not interested.”
“Ben, it’s a big world. Experience it. If you don’t like what you see, you can always come back.”
He stood up. “I’d better get going.”
Shanks stood as well. “Eat something.”
“Going home for dinner right now.”
When the teen held out his hand, Shanks drew him into a bear hug. The kid resisted, and then melted. “Keep that great brain working in fine order, okay?”
“Sometimes I wish I could turn it off,” Ben told him.
“It can be done, kiddo. That’s why God invented streaming.”
At dinner that night, Ben witnessed a cheerless meal for the thousandth time. He could set his watch to it: twenty minutes for gulping down the food that no one really tasted. Though Mom always offered, no one ever wanted dessert. Afterward everyone retreated to their own private spaces. After he polished off his homework, Ben began his real work in earnest—checking the current police cases, specifically homicide cases, that were available online. He’d enter in facts and figures, trying to make sense out of meaningless deaths. Sometimes he was able to hack into actual files, sorting through postmortem photographs, witnessing gray faces and expressionless eyes. That he missed those earth dates, as Shanks had called them, for so long ate at him like battery acid. It gave him a little insight into the frustrations of a detective.
At around eleven, Ben closed his laptop. He had no desire to go to a high school football game, but there were other people in his life. He went to Haley’s room and knocked on the door.
“It’s open.”
Haley was on the computer. She looked so young and vulnerable, wearing Santa Claus pajamas and with fuzzy slippers on her feet. She had pulled her curls into a ponytail. Ben said, “What are you looking at?”
“Milquetoast is coming to Sandia in February. Tickets go on sale Friday at midnight.”
“Do tell.” Silence. Ben said, “If you bag them, would you like a ride?”
“Yes.” Haley jumped up and kissed his cheek. “Can you take—”
“Yes, I can take Lilly too.”
“You’re the best.”
“Nonsense. I am nothing but an Uber, but that’s what big brothers do.” He paused. “Speaking about big brothers, would you like me to take you and Lilly to the kickoff game on Friday?”
“O! M! G! That would be amazing! I wanted to go but was afraid to ask you because I know how you feel about football.”
“Not all football, just high school football, specifically my high school.”
“You’re weird, but wonderful. Lilly was working up the courage to ask her mom if she could go. You know how protective her mom is. But if you go, she’ll be cool with that. Just don’t hang around once we get there.”
“Okay, now I’m getting a little insulted.”
She kissed his cheek. “I’m going to call Lilly now. You can leave. Thanks, Vicks.”
“It’s Ben.”
“I know your name. No one calls you Ben. Why is that?”
“I really don’t know. Lots of guys are called by their last name. I guess ‘Vicksburg’ is too long. ‘Benjamin Vicksburg’ is way too long. Every time I fill in my name for a standardized test, I run out of little boxes. Mom must have been on crack. I heard you made friends with the new kid.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“From the new girl, Ro. She’s a friendly person like you are. What’s the kid’s name?”
“Griffen . . . he’s actually okay.”
“Cute?” When Haley didn’t answer, Ben said, “His sister’s cute.”
“No, she’s gorgeous. You two are friends, then?”
“Haley, I do not have friends. You know that.”
“I know.” A pause. “Don’t you ever get lonely?”
“Sure, but lonely isn’t the same as solitude.” He looked at her cat clock with its swinging tail. “You should go to bed.”
“I’m old enough to determine my bedtime.”
“Yes, you are. But you’re still too young to drive. In a few years, that’ll all be gone and I’ll no longer serve any purpose for you. I’ll just be that weird math guy who lives in his head.”