Killing Season

by Faye Kellerman

  “I’m cold.”

  The pause was longer than it should have been, but eventually he opened his covers. She slid inside and snuggled next to him. His sheets were damp and musty. Immediately, Ro felt electricity between her legs. Within moments she was warm and they were kissing. His arms were around her waist, his fingers running down her back although he was avoiding all of the R- and X-rated areas.

  She shoved her groin into his. He was hard and embarrassed by it. He tried to give himself a little space, but she threw her leg over his and pushed him closer. She lifted her nightgown and pulled it over her head. His gasp was audible. She said, “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

  “I didn’t bring any protect—”

  “I’m on birth control.” She tugged at his board shorts and slid them down over his knees. He took them off, then the wifebeater. She told him by action that she was more than willing.

  Ro closed her eyes. The boy could kiss. Each one of them was sweeter than the last. She could make a meal on them. She dug nails into his back, she bit his shoulder. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. The sex was just something to get over with. But the kisses . . . the way he took her face in his hands and kissed her all over . . . the way he whispered that he loved her. She wanted all of that to last forever.

  His breathing quickened along with his rhythm. When it was over, he lay on top for a moment, her hand clasped around his sweaty waist. Eventually he rolled off and they lay on their backs, his eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. His breathing was still audible.

  She knew Vicks well enough to know he wasn’t a talker, so she helped him out. “Would you mind getting me a washcloth?”

  “Yeah, of course. Anything.” He got up and stubbed his toe. She reached over and turned on the light and saw that he was embarrassed by his nakedness. When he tried to cover up, he looked down and then jumped back. His groin was coated in blood. He wiped himself off on his sheet. “Why didn’t you tell me you had your period?”

  “Because I don’t have my period.” His head jerked up, staring with wide eyes. Ro smiled. “Surprise, surprise.”

  He covered his mouth. He was frozen on the spot.

  “Vicks, the washcloth?”

  “Right.” He disappeared into the bathroom and came out a minute later. He had taken the time to wet it with warm water, and also brought her a dry towel. He crawled back under the sheets. His face was white. “I’m . . . sorry.”

  “Why? You didn’t like it?”

  “No, of course I liked it . . . I loved it. I’m . . . are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She rubbed the washcloth between her legs. The warmth soothed the burning inside. “I mean, it hurt, but it didn’t take all that long.”

  He turned red and covered his face with his hands. “Oh God!”

  She kissed his shoulder. “Ben, it’s fine. We’ll learn together.”

  He finally screwed up the courage to look at her. “God, I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Are you really okay?”

  “Psychologically I’m fine. Physically a little sore but that’s to be expected. How are you?”

  “Okay . . . I think.” He paused. “I’m glad you told me afterward. Otherwise I would have been even more terrified. I thought at least one of us knew what we were doing.”

  She laughed. “It doesn’t take a lot of conscious thought.”

  He laughed back. “You’re right about that.” He paused again. “Why are you on birth control if . . . ?”

  “Reasonable question,” Ro said. “I had a boyfriend back home . . . kind of a clone of JD.”

  “Football player?”

  “Yeah, a BMOC—tall, good-looking, smart. Anyway, I always thought that we’d be doing it senior year. You know . . . get it out of the way before I went to college. I can’t think of a worse experience than having your first time be with a hookup. But then my considerate parents decided to uproot the family. He wanted to do it before I left.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Yeah, naturally. But at that point, I decided I didn’t like him enough. Then we went to New Mexico and I met JD right away. I thought, well, he’ll be the one. So I kept taking birth-control pills. But then that didn’t happen . . . and we got together.” She patted his head. “Looks like you won the lottery.”

  “Better than the lottery.” He kissed her again. “Waaaay better than the lottery.” He raised his eyebrows. “Wanna do it again?”

  “Aren’t you the randy one?”

  He fell on top of her. “Talk about randy. I saw what you have on your iPad.”

  “You peeked at my personal junk?”

  “You left it on when you went to the bathroom, and yes, I admit that I’m extremely nosy.” Ben kissed her nose. “I must say I blushed when I read the prose. However . . .” He lifted up a finger. “If you have anything specific you’d like me to do, I’m very open-minded.”

  She played with his curls, rolling them around her finger and watching them bounce when she removed it. “How about . . .” Bouncy, bouncy. “How about if you just kiss me . . . and we’ll let nature take its course.”

  They got up early. Actually, they never went to sleep. Ro donned a pink cable-knit sweater and some skinny jeans that she tucked into knee-high boots. The pants felt too tight around her sore crotch, but some things couldn’t be helped. Vicks had put on a sweatshirt and jeans. With her heels, Ro’s height was lips level with Ben’s and that was all that mattered.

  Breakfast was juice and toast, and then they went out to greet the day. The Bay Area, which was customarily shrouded in mist, was stunning in the daylight. It was around nine in the morning when they climbed through the Berkeley Hills, pausing to take in the panoramic view of the town and the ocean below. They saw the orange color of the Golden Gate Bridge spanning across the water, the bay throwing off a million diamonds in the sunlight. It was enough to convince her to apply to colleges in California. How wonderful to wake up and breathe the brine in the air.

  They walked hand in hand, wending a pathway through the hills until they hit the Cal campus. Ro had expected to be out of breath, trudging up the incline, but her lungs felt full with each inhale. When she remarked upon it, Ben said, “You’re at sea level.”

  She punched his shoulder. “What a smart guy.”

  They walked up Telegraph Avenue, where dozens of vendors were setting up shop on the sidewalks—selling everything from vintage vinyl records to bumper stickers that extolled the virtues of anarchy. The street was lined with alternative retail stores: head shops, metaphysical bookstores, places selling comic books and anime, and tables with heaps of used clothing. Message T-shirts were everywhere: in stores, in stalls, and being sold by random people from the trunks of their cars.

  And they say that reading was dead.

  Ben’s expression was one of awe, taking in the sights, the lens of his eye snapping pictures like a camera. Ro tugged at his hands to hurry him along. They hadn’t even gone onto the campus proper.

  “Do you believe this?” he told her.

  “In what way? Good, bad, indifferent?”

  “Just in the sheer number of people here.”

  “You really are a country boy.”

  “Metro area of Albuquerque is like eight hundred thousand.”

  “Spread out over a big space. How many people live in New Mexico?”

  “Around two million.”

  “California has like forty million people. It’s a country. Let’s go.”

  But he continued staring at the stalls. He stopped in front of a leather artisan. The man was in his fifties with a gray ponytail and a gray rabbi beard. Ben said, “Lilly made me this beautiful silver buckle for Christmas. I should get a belt.”

  “Shit!” Ro said. “I meant to call Lilly and thank her for the ring. It’s really gorgeous.”

  The old ponytailed man looked up at them. “You want a belt?” His cloudy blue eyes went to Ben’s face. “What pants size do y
ou wear?”

  “Thirty.”

  “Yeah, right,” Ro said.

  “Maybe twenty-eight.”

  “On a good day.”

  The old man smiled. To Ben, he said, “Try this one.”

  Ben looked at a beautifully tooled piece of leather and asked the price. Too expensive. The guy handed him another belt with less tooling. They agreed upon a price, Ben tried it on, and then he bought it. The transaction took about five minutes—typical of the way guys handled purchases. Ben took out his phone. “I have Lilly’s number if you want to call her.”

  “Oh sure.” When he started to recite the numbers, she said, “Why don’t I call from your phone?”

  “Because she would think that I’m calling her. I have to be careful not to give her any ideas.”

  “Yeah, the poor thing does have it bad for you.”

  “It’s a harmless crush, but I don’t want to encourage anything.” He gave Ro the number and she placed the call, thanking her for the ring as effusively as she could. She sounded genuinely pleased.

  “How’s Berkeley?” she asked.

  “We’re on our way to campus. The area is beautiful.”

  “That’s nice. I envy you. I can’t wait until I get to college. Thanks for calling, Ro. I’m thrilled that you like the ring.” A pause. “Is Ben there? I’d like to say hi.”

  “Of course.” Ro handed him the phone and mouthed, She asked.

  He took the cell. “Hey there, kiddo.”

  “How’s it going?” Lilly asked. “Ro says it’s beautiful.”

  “True that.”

  “What do you think about the Berkeley campus?”

  “Haven’t been there yet.”

  “It’s got a great math and physics department, you know.”

  Ben smiled. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “Just sayin’ . . .”

  “How’s my sister doing?”

  “Haven’t seen her in a couple of days. I thought I might give her and Griff a little time alone.”

  “Hmm . . . I don’t know if I like that idea.”

  “Don’t worry. She tells me everything.”

  “Okay, just so long as it’s G-rated.”

  “Maybe PG.”

  “More on the G than on the P, Lilly.”

  “Gotcha. Have a good time. Just keep an open mind about Berkeley, Ben. All the UCs are sister labs to Los Alamos.”

  “Yes, Ms. Busybody, I’m aware of that. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up and handed Ro back the phone. He kissed her. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” There was something plaintive in his eyes. “What is it?”

  “I’m just thinking how much I’ll miss you when you leave River Remez.”

  “You can come with me. You’ll certainly get in everywhere I’ll apply to.” No response. “Just think about it, Ben, okay?”

  “Sure.” His tone of voice said: Out of the question. “Okay, beautiful. Let’s go raid the campus and see what all the fuss is about.”

  Walking through UC Berkeley only confirmed Vicks’s notion that he was a stranger in a strange land: the geography, the amount of people, the vastness. The buildings varied in size and style, very different from the eastern campuses he had seen in pictures. Some Beaux arts buildings would have fit in nicely in Harvard, but other structures were done in California stucco, and of course, there were lots of modern square monoliths that looked like giant office buildings. What set the campus apart was the amount of greenery in the dead of winter.

  Ro said, “A little bigger than UNM?”

  “I think you could fit all of New Mexico in here.”

  “It’s almost January and people are walking around in sweaters and jeans. Trees have leaves on them. The sky is gorgeous and I can already feel a tan on my face.” She shrugged. “I think I’ve found home.” She turned to him. “For both of us. I mean what’s stopping you?”

  “Out-of-state tuition,” Vicks said. “I’m sure this is like fifty grand or something per year.”

  “You could get a merit scholarship, Vicks.”

  Ben didn’t appear to hear her. He kept gawking. “You know this school is one of the birthplaces of modern physics. The math department is renowned. And like Lilly just reminded me, the Berkeley lab is a sister to Los Alamos.”

  “The gates are wide open, Vicks.”

  “It would be competitive. Look at all these people.” A stare. “And this is Christmas break.”

  “They’re international students. It’s a wonder that Taiwan or Vietnam still has any population.” Ro gasped. “Wait a minute, wait a minute.” She grabbed his arm. “Vicks, you’re Native American. Your grandmother is a full-blooded Santa Clara Indian.”

  “That’s a technicality. I do have enough blood to be a tribe member, but—”

  “Oh my God, Vicks, you have URM status.”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Under-represented minority.”

  “Are you kidding me?” He looked incredulous. “I’m as much Jewish as I am Indian.”

  “Don’t say you’re Jewish. Colleges are filled with smart Jews. That won’t get you anywhere.”

  “That’s so racist. I thought you were liberal.”

  “What? Jews aren’t smart?”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “Ro, I’m happy where I am. I’m certainly not applying anywhere as a represent—what did you call it?”

  “Under-represented minority.” She sighed. “I am so exasperated. You’re not only wasting your grades and scores, you’re wasting your minority status. C’mon, Vicks. Haven’t Jews and Indians suffered enough?” Ro made scales with her hands. “Think the Holocaust and Wounded Knee.” When Ben didn’t speak, she said, “Am I making this up?”

  “Dorothy, my father’s a lawyer, my mother is a teacher. I’ve got aunts and uncles who have MDs and PhDs. None of us are suffering. I’m not taking minority status away from someone who really needs it.”

  “What is wrong with you?” Ro said. “It’s not like you’re cheating or anything. I mean you even speak Indian, don’t you?”

  “You mean Tewa?”

  “Whatever. You speak it, right?”

  “No, Ro, I speak English. I’m American.”

  She put her hand to her chest. “You are killing me!” When he laughed, she hit him, then pulled out a camera. “C’mon, Sitting Bull. Take some pictures of me to show my parents that this trip was really about college.”

  “Sitting Bull was Sioux—a Plains Indian—totally different culture from Pueblo Indians.”

  “It was a joke, Vicks.”

  “I know.” He grinned. “I’m a deadpan fool.”

  She shoved the camera in his hand. “Take my good side.”

  He complied by taking a snapshot of her posing in front of Barrows Hall. She posed here, she posed there, she posed everywhere, making both funny and sultry faces. They took selfies, smiling like idiots. After the photo shoot was done, they took in an early lunch.

  Neither ate much. Ro wasn’t hungry and Vicks was antsy. As the clock got closer to interview time, he became downright nervous. He had turned from quiet to silent. He checked his phone. He checked his notepad. Finally, he turned to her. “We should be heading over.”

  “You want to walk? We might get there a little early if we drive.”

  “I want to factor in getting-lost time.”

  According to the GPS, the Rehnquists lived five miles away just outside of Berkeley proper. They had passed the house before coming onto campus.

  “Sure, let’s go back,” Ro said.

  Conversation ceased. It was hard for Ro to go five minutes without talking, let alone a half hour. She took out her phone and tried to busy herself in texts and calls. Ben drove like an automaton, staring out the windshield, barely moving a muscle beyond the mechanics of driving.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Fine.”

  “Should I shut up?”

  “I’m fine,” he repeated.r />
  The tension was horrible, but Ro didn’t speak. She had just lost her virginity to a boy whom she barely knew, at least in terms of what made him tick. She knew that Ben loved her. She was sure of that. But as for emotional nurturance, their encounter last night could have been a hookup.

  Chapter 4

  The woman greeted them with a wan smile. She was patrician: lean features with dark hair and a fair complexion. She was around fifty, but her eyes said she had lived in pain for a thousand years. Ro had seen those eyes in her own mother’s face . . . in Laura Vicksburg’s as well. They made her sad and weary.

  “Nora Rehnquist.” She offered a soft hand to Vicks and then to Ro. “Please come in.”

  Vicks said, “Thank you so much for seeing us.”

  “Not a problem.” Her voice was formal.

  The living room was built at the turn of the century: old dark wooden floors creaked even as they stepped on the Oriental area rug that covered the planks. There was a big fireplace with painted tiles and dark wooden beams on the ceilings. The walls were painted cream, and the furniture was all clean lines, bright colors, and beautifully appointed. Light poured in from several view windows that showed off greenery from the hills below and the distant bay. Ro took in the view, looking at the boats in the harbor, and beyond to a mist-topped Golden Gate Bridge.

  Nora was dressed in dark slacks and a soft blue sweater with silver jewelry. She was around five nine, about three inches taller than Ro, who was the first to speak up. “Thanks for your time, Mrs. Rehnquist. This can’t be easy for you.”

  “I’m hoping it’s mutually beneficial,” she said. “Please sit. Can I offer you something to drink? Water, soda, coffee?”

  Vicks started to say no, but Ro interrupted. “Is the coffee made?”

  She smiled. “I can put on a fresh pot. I’d like a cup myself. Is it Dorothy?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh please, call me Nora.”

  “Then please call me Ro.” She gave her a half smile. “Lovely home. The view is spectacular.”

  “Thank you.” Her eyes looked out the window and beyond. “We just finished construction. It became a much longer project because of the interruption.”