Killing Season

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Killing Season Page 34

by Faye Kellerman


  “Let go of me!” Griffen’s eyes were wet. “You’re choking me.”

  “If you’re able to talk, you’re not choking. And stop pawing me. It hurts!” Griff was still struggling. “Will you relax? This wimp is going to teach you something!” Ben shifted the boy’s position until he had him in a side headlock. “It’s a different move if it’s from behind and that involves poking my eyes. I don’t trust you right now!”

  “Fuck off!”

  “I’ll teach you how to get out of this hold if you promise you won’t take my head off.” The boy was still struggling. “Relax, Griff. I’m not going to let go. Right now, I’m still stronger than you.”

  “You’re a fucking bully.”

  “And you’re a coward! That’s what taggers are. They’re cowards!”

  Griffen went silent. Ben saw the moisture in the boy’s eyes but he kept on going. “You spray-painted a registered American Treasure. Now you’ve got a choice, Griff. You can learn something or you can go to the police. And, buddy, this wimp has no problem taking you down.”

  Finally, Griff stopped struggling. It was probably the first time the kid had ever been in hand-to-hand combat. They made them soft in the burbs.

  Ben said, “Okay. This is what you do. Are you listening?” When he didn’t get an answer, he repeated, “Are you listening?”

  “Yes, I’m fucking listening.”

  “Will you please cool it with the profanity? It’s lost its potency.”

  Ro was back at the door. “What’s going on?” She knocked harder. “I’m going to call the police.”

  Griffen said, “Just go away, Ro. We’re fine!”

  “Open the door!”

  Ben let Griff go and opened the door. “See? He’s still alive.”

  Ro was in tears. “What happened?”

  “Nothing!” Griff slammed the door in her face.

  “That wasn’t nice.”

  “I hate her,” the kid muttered.

  “She’s your only sibling. Stop talking like that.”

  “She ruined everything!”

  Ben shrugged. “She’s your sister and she’ll be in your life long after I’ve left it. She’s family and I’m not.”

  “Haley hates me.”

  “I figured she must be giving you a hard time. When we talked last night, your name didn’t come up.” When Griffen didn’t answer, Ben said, “I’ll talk to her.”

  “Don’t.”

  “You’re right. I don’t have to fight your battles. But she doesn’t need to fight mine either.” No one spoke. Ben finally said, “How about if I take you and Haley and Lilly out to dinner tonight? We can even include Ezra, although I don’t know how much Lilly likes being fixed up with him.”

  “Ezra really likes her.” Griff sat on the bed. “He’s pissed at me too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because now that Haley isn’t talking to me, everything just kinda fell apart.”

  “There are other girls in the school, you know. You’re a good-looking guy.”

  Griffen shrugged. “I know.”

  “I’m one to talk about a love life. Stand up.” When he did, Ben grabbed him in a headlock. “You ready to learn something?” When Griffen didn’t answer, he said, “You hurt me, you’re dead.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Okay.” Ben secured his balance. “First off, twist your body to the side so that your chin is in my ribs. That’ll clear your jugular and you’re less likely to pass out from the pressure, okay?”

  “How?”

  “Just twist your body and the head will follow.”

  “Which way?”

  “Counterclockwise.” After Griffen turned, Ben said, “Good. Okay. Now, what you’re supposed to do forcefully, you’re going to do gently, okay? I got dirt on you. Don’t take advantage of my good nature.”

  “Fuck you!”

  But he said it in a conversational tone of voice.

  Ben said, “I’m gonna move my leg. And when I do, take your right hand, cross over your body, and push your hand in back of my right knee. If you press it hard enough, my leg will buckle. Don’t do it hard or I’ll take your head down with me.”

  “Okay.”

  Ben held his breath and Griffen placed his hand behind his knee. Ben said, “Press it gently . . . see how you’re pushing into my leg. If you did it fast and hard, I’d go under immediately. Now, while you’re pressing the back of my knee, take your left arm or hand and bring it across my throat.” Ben helped him place it across his throat. “Okay, now you’re perfect. You press under my knee with your right hand and hit my Adam’s apple with your left hand and twist.”

  He did it gently. Ben said, “Bring your left hand back a little more . . . stretch . . . okay . . . twist . . .” The kid popped out of the hold. “There you go.”

  Griffen didn’t say anything. Ben said, “You put me in a headlock and I’ll show you what it feels like to do it quickly.” Griff did, and within a moment, Ben was free.

  “That was cool,” Griff said. “Can I try again?”

  “Sure. The key is to relax to get a better extension. The more relaxed you are, the more strength you have.”

  He did it again. Ben was impressed. “You’re a natural.”

  Griff lowered his head and smiled.

  “I’m still pissed at you,” Ben said. “But I’m giving you a pass this time. Don’t you dare do it again.” A pause. “Why, Griff?”

  Griffen shrugged.

  Ben blew out air. “Like I said before, I’m taking Haley and Lilly out for dinner tonight. I want you to come. It’s your chance to redeem yourself. Don’t disappoint me.”

  “You gotta ask Haley about that. I’m not her favorite person right now.”

  “Then she’s being stupid. We’re all going and that’s that.” Ben rolled his shoulders. “There’s a chance that I’m going snowboarding tomorrow if I can find a good spot. Weather has been up and down, which breeds avalanches, but even if the backcountry bowls aren’t suitable, the ski basin is still making snow. If you want to come with me, be at my house by seven. Be on time. I’m not going to wait around. Got it?”

  Griffen nodded.

  Ben walked out of his room.

  Ro was gone. But he noticed the door to her room was ajar. He knocked on the frame.

  “It’s open.” Ro was in her bathroom. She had changed from sweats to a sweater and a skirt. She was staring in the mirror and putting on eye makeup.

  His Valentine’s Day gift dangled from her wrist. He wondered if she put it on just for him. But then he remembered she was wearing it when she answered the door. “Sorry if I scared you.”

  She continued to look in the mirror. She started to talk, but flapped her hands instead and tried to brush away tears without smearing her makeup. She steadied her voice. “What happened?”

  Ben looked down and then up again. “Ask Griffen.”

  “He doesn’t talk to me,” Ro muttered. “He hates me.”

  “He doesn’t hate you—”

  “Oh yes, he really does. But . . .” She put on some mascara. “I suppose he won’t hate me forever.” She examined her eyes and moved on to her blush. Then she turned to him. “Would you like some water or coffee?”

  “No, thank you.” He licked his lips. “I’m taking the kids out for dinner.”

  “That’s really nice. I know Griff will really appreciate it. He’s been alone since . . . for a while. Thanks for doing it.”

  Ben tapped his toe. “I’d invite you along, but it looks like you’ve already got some plans.”

  Her eyes got wet. “Damn.” She blotted away the moisture. “I got a job, Vicks. I’m going to work.”

  “You got a job?”

  “Yes, I did indeed.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Not important. Thanks for the invitation. Maybe some other time?”

  Ben didn’t answer. Seeing her so upset . . . it was difficult to hold on to his anger. “I’m taking him snowboa
rding . . . Griff . . . tomorrow . . . if he wants to come.”

  “I’m sure he’d love it.” She turned to face him. “When was the last time you snowboarded?”

  “Over three years ago.” He rubbed his head. “I suspect it’s like driving a car. A little rusty at first, but I’m sure I’ll do okay enough to teach him something. At one time I was pretty good.”

  “I ski, but I’ve never tried snowboarding.”

  “You can come.”

  “I’d love to, but I’m working tomorrow as well.”

  “I repeat: Doing what?”

  “It varies.”

  “Can you get more specific?”

  “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.” She pulled out a lipstick and examined the color. “Too dark.” She looked at him. “Are you coming to school on Monday?”

  “Probably.” Ben sighed. “Good luck with whatever you’re doing.” He gave her a dismissive wave, the kind she used to give him when they first met. He made sure when he left that he didn’t slam the door.

  Chapter 14

  The policy was thus: during the day and evening up until ten, there were always two people so Ro wasn’t needed and she couldn’t sneak around. The graveyard shift from ten to six had been manned by Gary the Ghoul forever. It seemed he didn’t take time off because he didn’t want to. He loved the dead of night and he loved being by himself.

  Opportunity knocked on a perfect pre-spring day in early March. The sun was out in full force, the big New Mexican sky was colored that unreal blue, and temperatures hovered in the sixties. It was a day when no one wanted to be indoors, let alone working. Pearl had decided to call in “sick”—something Ro would have done—but Tomas was a good soul, steady and dedicated. Ro was thinking of ways to sabotage his industriousness.

  She wangled another tutorial on the computer. The basics weren’t that complicated, but to do what she wanted, she needed diligence and enough facility that Tomas would trust her alone at the front desk. She squinted at the monitor. “So if we’ve got a returning client and he wants the same room, I press insert here . . .”

  “Right.”

  “And then I type in the name.”

  “Right.”

  “And type in repeat.”

  “Right.”

  “And that will give me a list of all the dates that the client has stayed with us.”

  “Yes.”

  “How do I get a log of the previous rooms?”

  “Type in repeat, the client’s name, the date you want. Then, in the request box, type in the room number.”

  “Okay.” She followed his instructions and sure enough, there was a complete client history. “What does this little star after the room number mean?”

  “That means a corporate discount.”

  Her heart started beating. “Like what kind of corporate discount? What corporations do we have in Santa Fe?”

  “Not for corporations we have, for corporations coming into the city. Mostly we get tours coming in that book with us. Like if we go back to Christmas . . .” He clicked some keys. “Here we go . . . all these rooms have a star after them. This was booked out by some corporation.”

  “Do you know which corporation?”

  “I can look it up, but I have to go to another window.”

  “Out of curiosity, which corporation was this one?”

  He turned to her. “Why?”

  “I’m a curious person.”

  He was puzzled, but he took her at her word. He clicked a few more keys, closed a window, and opened another window. “Okay . . . this was done by the Peyton Museum in Dallas.” He pointed to the monitor. “See in this aside . . . they booked a Christmas art tour.”

  “You have the asides so you know what it was about.”

  “Most of the time, yeah.”

  Ro was dying to ask about Los Alamos discounts, but of course she didn’t. Her head was buzzing. First thing on the agenda was flattery. “This is really complicated.”

  He smiled. “Not so much once you know it.”

  “How long did it take you to learn all of this?”

  “Six months. Now it’s just kinda boring. There are lots of details and it’s easy to screw up, especially doing it hour after hour.”

  “So why don’t you take a break?”

  “Uh, do you see anyone else at the desk?”

  Ro pointed to herself. “It’s a gorgeous day outside.”

  “I’m sure Pearl’s enjoying it.”

  She homed in on him with her baby blues. “Tomas, you did me a favor. Let me do one for you. Take an hour off. I can handle the desk.”

  “No, no, no—”

  “Yes, yes, yes.” Her smile was brilliant. “You need a lunch hour anyway.”

  “I have my brown bag in the back.”

  “Take your lunch outside and breathe some fresh air. I’m not doing anything anyway. I’m happy to help you out.”

  He was clearly suspicious. “Are you trying to worm your way into my job?”

  She was offended—for real. “Not at all. I’m a full-time student, remember. I couldn’t work your job even if it was offered to me. Besides, no one is as good at it as you are.”

  “You’re definitely up to something.”

  “Forget it.” She acted hurt and, of course, it worked. He was a guy and she was gorgeous.

  “You really think you can handle the desk?”

  “Tomas, it’s after the official checkout time and an hour away from check-in time. It’s called a lull. Go to Fort Marcy. It’s like five minutes away. Take your cell. If I have a problem, I promise to call you.”

  “O-kay.” He went into the back room and retrieved his sack lunch. “I’ll be at Fort Marcy.” He gave her a weak smile. “Why do I think you’re after something?”

  “Because you’re dedicated and you don’t want me to screw up and get you busted. I won’t. Go.” She practically had to push him out the door. She waited five minutes before she went to work.

  She punched in the date of Ellen Vicksburg’s abduction and the monitor shot back a list of thirty names. She printed them out. Then she started going backward and forward—a week before Ellen was abducted, a week after it happened. She printed out those lists. Then she went a full month before the abduction, figuring if he had dug a grave in the mountains, he would have had to have been in town before he’d done what he did. No repeat names immediately popped out, but she couldn’t print out the forms and investigate at the same time.

  People came up to the desk. One wanted a wake-up call. One wanted to know a good place for dinner. Another asked if a fax had come through. Another paid for a card to use the computer at the business center. But even with the interruptions, she had almost used up a ream of paper, printing out names and dates. When she looked at the clock, almost forty-five minutes had passed, but she had barely scratched the surface when Tomas walked through the door. Panicked, she tried to return the computer to the home screen, but she must have pressed the wrong button. She tried again, then again, and the computer froze.

  Then she froze.

  Turning her back to the monitor, she picked up the phone and pressed one of the lines just as Tomas walked through the gate to the front desk.

  “Line three for you. You can take it in the back.”

  “Sure.” He walked into the back room. Again, she frantically pressed the home button while Tomas was talking to a dead line in the back room. She pressed the button again, and finally, all her spy work was suddenly offscreen and she was left with the floating home icon. There was still a pile of paper in the printer and a lot of explaining to do if he saw it. Ro gathered up the paper and wrapped her coat around the sheaves. Tomas came back out.

  “No one was on the line,” he told her.

  “Strange.” She picked up her crumpled coat and swung the gate open, liberating her from the front desk. “Be right back.”

  Before he could ask any questions, she ran to the bathroom. Once inside, she straightened the papers into a neat
pile. Looking back out the door, she peeked at the desk and saw that Tomas was involved with a guest. Taking the opportunity, she ran out and dumped everything in her SUV. Tomas was on the phone when she went into the back room and opened up a new ream of paper, replacing what she had taken. It wasn’t right to steal, even for a noble purpose. She’d buy some replacement paper tomorrow at OfficeMax. When Tomas got off the phone, she gave him a dazzling smile. “Enjoy yourself?”

  “Yes, actually I did. Thanks, Gretchen. Any problems?”

  “No, everything went swimmingly. Uh, Mr. Graydon in three-twenty wants a six o’clock wake-up call. I don’t know how to program it.”

  He was relaxed and happy. That made him cooperative. “I can show you that.”

  “Please.”

  He did and she made a point of checking her watch. “I think I’ll take a little breather before I start my shift.”

  “Sure. Thanks again.”

  “I’m happy to help. Even if Pearl is here, I’ll pitch in. I know you guys can get very busy. And people get impatient—”

  “You ain’t kidding.” Tomas looked at her with wonderment. “You’re so pretty. Surely you have a life. I know you have a boyfriend.”

  “You’ve been talking to Salvador?”

  “It seems like a complicated situation. We could talk about it over dinner sometime . . . just as friends.”

  “If we can ever find a few moments, sure.”

  “He’s very lucky, your boyfriend.”

  “He is, but truly he doesn’t know it.” She left, knowing Tomas was looking at her ass. And that was okay. Keep them guessing. It keeps them interested.

  Ro’s days were filled with monotony: get up, go to school, go to work, fit in homework, drop off to sleep. Repeat. Although Ro wasn’t quite sure what she was accomplishing, she knew it was something, because within a few days the hatch of her car was filled with two boxes of paper. She didn’t know how to decipher what she had, but at least she had it. Pearl and Tomas were more than happy to have help. Then, out of nowhere, it appeared, as if Ellen were guiding with a celestial hand: Gary the Ghoul needed a few days off for his grandfather’s funeral back east. Tomas proudly presented Ro as a competent substitute to Elaine—a woman in her thirties, short, squat, with a round face, dark eyes, and short dark hair. The boss was confused.

 

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