Until Dark - Mariah Stewart [82]
Kendra nodded. “Yes.”
“I was here then. I remember Ian.” She lowered herself back into the chair. “He was a beautiful boy. Spoiled, though. He had too much. He didn’t like to share. He was mean sometimes.”
“Mean to whom?” Kendra’s brows knit closely. Ian had been a handful, true, but mean?
“To Zach. To some of the other kids. He liked to bully.”
“What’s your name?” Kendra asked.
“Emmy Moss.”
“Are you Christopher Moss’s mother?”
“I am.”
“How is your son?” Kendra sat on the top step and looked up at the woman, who looked barely old enough to have had a child who would be well into his teens by now.
“He’s the same. Same as he was. Same as he’s been.” She rocked herself back and forth.
“Do you visit him often?” Kendra leaned back against the railing, and Adam stepped aside as if to step out of the picture. Kendra was doing fine on her own for now.
“No.” Emmy picked at a fingernail. “It makes me too sad to go. He never says anything but that same garble and I never know what it means. I can’t stand it.”
“It must be very difficult for you.”
“Chrissy has always been difficult for me. They said it was because . . . because I used to drink a lot. Before he was born. But whatever, he was never right.”
“My aunt told my mother that the day the boys, Ian and Zach, disappeared, Christopher followed behind them. Do you think they knew that he was following?”
Emmy shrugged. “Maybe. He always was trailing on behind the other kids. He just wanted to be noticed. Just wanted to be included.”
“Did you see them leave that day?”
“I was sitting right here when they came outside.” She nodded. “Zach and Ian. They had backpacks and some food in a small cooler. You have to keep your stuff cool out here, you know, otherwise things spoil so quickly with the heat.”
“Did you see them leave, Emmy?”
“No. I went back inside to make breakfast for Sierra. She always let me cook her breakfast for her. She liked the way I cooked.”
“I guess you miss her.” Adam sat down on the step next to Kendra.
“Sure. She was more like a sister than a friend. She let me live here, let me keep the ranch. Me and Rosie and Sarah. We were like sisters, the four of us . . .” Her voice trailed away.
“Did the boys mention to you where they were going that morning?”
“Someplace out toward the Chiricahuas.” Emmy pointed to the mountains in the distance, beyond the barn. “They were going to camp for a few days.”
“Did Sierra know how far they were going to go?”
“Sure. What difference did it make?”
Because when they ran into trouble, they were too far away to get help, that’s what difference it made, Kendra wanted to shout.
“So they set out that way . . .” Kendra gritted her teeth, and pointed in the direction of the mountains, “and then Christopher followed?”
“A few minutes later.” Emmy shook her head. “It was a few minutes later that Chrissy left. He never went off on his own, Chrissy didn’t. Never left the ranch by himself. He didn’t know his way around. Just couldn’t remember things well. That’s why he followed the other boys.”
“Who else saw the boys leave? Who else was out here that morning?”
“Just me.”
“Emmy, would it be all right with you if we went to see Christopher?” Adam asked.
“He won’t know you’re there, chances are.”
“We’d like your permission to stop by anyway,” Adam said.
“Sure, whatever.” Emmy shrugged.
“Thanks for your time, Emmy.” Kendra rose and dusted off the back of her khakis.
“You want to wait around to see Sarah and Rose? They sleep late sometimes. . . .”
“Not this time, I’m afraid.”
“Some other time, then.” Emmy continued to twist the long tangle of dark hair and began to rock again.
“Bye,” Kendra waved, suddenly anxious to leave. She barely said a word until they were beyond the gates and in the car.
“Wow,” she said, “the sixties are alive and well outside of Chaco, Arizona.”
“What a way to spend your life.” Adam shook his head as he started up the car. “Getting high on your front porch and watching the buzzards fly by.”
“She was pretty much out there, wasn’t she?” Kendra turned sideways in her