The Rescue - Nicholas Sparks [13]
“Yes. He’s been doing that for a few months now.”
The state trooper nodded. His five-year-old daughter, Campbell, could do the same thing.
“Do you remember what he was wearing?”
She closed her eyes, thinking.
“A red shirt with a big Mickey Mouse on the front. Mickey’s winking and one hand has a thumbs-up sign. And jeans—stretch waist, no belt.”
The two men exchanged glances. Dark colors.
“Long sleeves?”
“No.”
“Shoes?”
“I think so. I didn’t take them off, so I assume they’re still on. White shoes, I don’t know the brand. Something from Wal-Mart.”
“How about a jacket?”
“No. I didn’t bring one. It was warm today, at least when we started to drive.”
As the questioning went on, lightning, three flashes close together, exploded in the night sky. The rain, if possible, seemed to fall even harder.
Sergeant Huddle raised his voice over the sound of the pounding rain.
“Do you still have family in the area? Parents? Siblings?”
“No. No siblings. My parents are deceased.”
“How about your husband?”
Denise shook her head. “I’ve never been married.”
“Has Kyle ever wandered off before?”
Denise rubbed her temple, trying to keep the dizziness at bay.
“A couple of times. At the mall once and near my house once. But he’s afraid of lightning. I think that might be the reason he left the car. Whenever there’s lightning, he crawls into bed with me.”
“How about the swamp? Would he be afraid to go there in the dark? Or do you think he’d stay close to the car?”
A pit yawned in her stomach. Fear made her mind clear just a little.
“Kyle isn’t afraid of being outside, even at night. He loves to wander in the woods by our house. I don’t know that he knows enough to be afraid.”
“So he might have. . . .”
“I don’t know . . . maybe,” she said desperately.
Sergeant Huddle paused for a moment, trying not to push her too hard. Finally: “Do you know what time it was that you saw the deer?”
Denise shrugged, feeling helpless and weak. “Again, I don’t know . . . maybe nine-fifteen. I didn’t check the time.”
Instinctively both men glanced at their watches. Taylor had found the car at 9:31 P.M. He’d called it in less than five minutes later. It was now 10:22 P.M. More than an hour—at the least—had already passed since the accident. Both Sergeant Huddle and Taylor knew they had to get a coordinated start right away. Despite the relative warmth of the air, a few hours in this rain without proper clothing could lead to hypothermia.
What neither of them mentioned to Denise was the danger of the swamp itself. It wasn’t a place for anyone in a storm like this, let alone a child. A person could literally vanish forever.
Sergeant Huddle closed his flip pad with a snap. Every minute now was precious.
“We’re going to continue this later, if that’s okay, Miss Holton. We’ll need more for the report, but getting started with the search is the most important thing right now.”
Denise nodded.
“Anything else we should know? A nickname, maybe? Something he’ll answer to?”
“No, just Kyle. But . . .”
It was then that it hit her—the obvious. The worst possible type of news, something the trooper had never thought to ask.
Oh God . . .
Her throat constricted without warning.
Oh, no . . . oh, no . . .
Why hadn’t she mentioned it earlier? Why hadn’t she told him right away, when she first got out of the car? When Kyle might have been close . . . when they maybe could have found him before he got too far away? He might have been right there—
“Miss Holton?”
Everything seemed to wash over her at once: shock, fright, anger, denial . . .
He can’t answer them!
She lowered her face into her hands.
He can’t answer!
“Miss Holton?” she heard again.
Oh God, why?
After what seemed like an impossibly long time, she wiped her tears away, unable to meet their eyes. I should have told them earlier.
“Kyle won’t answer if you simply call his name. You’ll have to find him, you’ll have to actually see him.”
They stared at her quizzically, not understanding.