Until Dark - Mariah Stewart [84]
Nothing, not so much as the blink of an eye.
“Do you remember Zach? Zach was my cousin. You lived on the ranch with him, with your mother, Emmy, and Zach’s mother, Sierra, and lots of other people. Do you remember Zach?”
Christopher’s head turned slightly but still, he did not look at her face. Kendra continued to chat with him in a low, soothing voice, hoping that something would reach him, but nothing appeared to have gotten through. He simply stared out the window.
“I guess that’s that.” She looked up at Adam, still speaking softly.
“What were you hoping for?” he asked.
Kendra shrugged. “I have no idea what I thought I’d find.”
She turned back to Christopher and took his hands in her own, patting them gently. “You take care, Christopher. Maybe we’ll get to see you again before we leave Arizona.”
Kendra quietly returned her chair to its spot against the wall, and turned to leave.
“Be . . . ca . . . ca . . .” The voice, little more than a whisper, was raspy from disuse.
“What?” Stunned that he’d spoken, she turned back to Christopher. “What did you say?”
“Be . . . ca . . . ca . . .” he stuttered.
“Because? Because what?” She knelt in front of him, and found that fat tears were pooling in the corners of his eyes. “Because what, Christopher?”
“Be . . . ca . . . ca . . .” he repeated, his eyes not meeting hers.
She quickly searched her handbag for her Daytimer, where she knew she’d find at least a small piece of paper and a pen. She placed the paper in front of Christopher and held out the pen. When he made no move to take it, she put it in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it.
“Here, Christopher. Can you write it for me? Whatever it is you’re trying to tell us, can you write it for me?”
Christopher Moss stared for long minutes at the pen before his gaze moved slowly to the paper on the table, then back to the pen. Kendra had all but given up hope that he’d use them, when Christopher moved the pen to the paper and began to write. When he dropped the pen, Kendra picked it up and handed it back to him, but his gaze had changed, as if he was no longer aware of her presence.
Kendra slipped the pen into her pocket and lifted the paper.
BE CAUS
“What in the devil do you suppose that means?” Adam whispered.
Kendra shook her head and reached behind Christopher to grab a few tissues from the box that sat on the windowsill. She wiped his face dry of tears, then tucked the paper into her purse.
“Let’s see if this means anything to Sheriff Gamble.” Kendra tossed the tissues into the trash. “Thank you, Christopher. I know this means something important to you. We’ll do our best to try to figure out what.”
“So, how’d you make out?” Cole Gamble asked when Adam and Kendra walked into his office later that afternoon. “Was Christopher able to tell you something you didn’t already know?”
“We don’t know,” Adam told him.
Kendra took out the narrow sheet of paper and laid it on the desk in front of the sheriff.
“This is what we have. Any idea what it might mean?”
Gamble picked up the paper and studied it.
“Because? Is that what he was trying to write?” Gamble shook his head. “Because what?”
“No clue,” Kendra told him. “I told him that we’d seen his mother at the ranch this morning—”
“How’d that go, by the way?” the sheriff interrupted to ask.
“Okay, I guess. Emmy’s not a font of credible information. She seemed more concerned with the rhythm of her rocker than anything else,” Kendra told him.
“Sad but true.” Gamble nodded. “Sorry. You were saying?”
“Just that I was telling Christopher about seeing his mother, and talking about the ranch and Zach and Ian, and he started crying and he said something that sounded like this. Be . . . ca . . . ca.” She mimicked the sound the boy had made. “I gave him the paper and pen and asked him to write down what he was trying to say, and that’s what he wrote. It could be because . . . but that doesn’t really mean anything by itself.”
“I’d like to make a copy of that paper, if I could. Maybe it will mean something to someone.