confidentiality.”
“Kingsley can.”
“Kingsley?”
“Seekers’ computer expert.”
She didn’t dare ask how, just savored the relief thatsomeone could tell her if Tommy was a threat to Scotty.
Sorry, Tommy. It’s for your own good, for Scotty’s
. “Dr. Montgomery at the Whiteside Clinic.”
“What was Scotty wearing when he left?”
What had she noticed missing in his room? Was it only this morning? It felt more like a week.
“His clothing could snag against branches,” Sabriel offered before she could answer—as if he was trying to make up for his earlier brusqueness, but didn’t quite know how to go about it. “Could let me know where he’s been.”
Nora nodded and knitted her fingers into her lap. “Red backpack. Yellow fleece jacket. Camouflage pants. Hiking boots.”
“What else?”
“I didn’t exactly have time to take inventory.”
“A backpack’s a good sign.” The words hitched out as if acts of comfort were foreign to him. “Tommy probably had him pack layers.”
If Scotty had layers, then he’d stay warm at night and maybe his asthma wouldn’t flare up. The hopeful thought soothed the raw edge of her nerves.
“Tell me about his footwear.”
“Why?” One of her heels clacked against the floor mat like a manic drummer hammering the pedal of a bass drum and Nora wished she could get up and move instead of being strapped in this car seat doing nothing.
“So I know what kind of tracks to look for.” Sabriel’s voice remained smooth and even, but she sensed the calmness cost him.
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t be a burden tohim, so she dug deep. Try as she might, she couldn’t picture the boots. “Tommy got Scotty hiking boots for his birthday last September. He gets a discount at work. I don’t know the brand. Brown. That’s all I remember.”
“Size?”
A small yelp escaped her. “That, I know. Size six.”
“Hiking poles?”
She didn’t think Scotty had any, but that didn’t mean Tommy hadn’t provided him with some. “I don’t know.”
“What time did they leave? Your best guess.”
Her head ached and her thoughts snarled in a mess. To keep from falling apart, she went back to scratching the pink polish off her nails. “Scotty went to bed at eight. I checked on him at ten. I let him sleep in this morning because he’d had several asthma attacks over the week, and he needed extra sleep. If I’d checked in on him when I got up—”
“They could still have had hours of lead time.”
On a logical level, she understood this, but emotionally, she kept thinking that she could have done something more. That, if she’d only been more observant, she could have prevented this nightmare.
Sabriel tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel, reeling her back to the present. “What kind of outdoor experience does Scotty have?”
Scotty talked about the hikes he and his father took on their Saturdays together. But two hours every other weekend wasn’t very long and kept them close to home.
“He’s hiked with Tommy since he was little,” Nora said, but the true answer was another
I don’t know
.
How could she know so little about her own son? The one person she spent most of her days with? The one person she thought she knew better than herself?
“His asthma keeps him from most sports.” Much to the Colonel’s irritation. “Especially in the winter when the cold triggers attacks.” Cold like tonight. And last night. Was he okay?
“Other than the asthma, is he in good health?”
Sabriel’s question derailed her grim train of thought once again. And she finally understood that the interrogation was in part meant to keep her from drowning in worry. Why in the world was that clinical approach so comforting?
Because you’re a mess, Nora
. She had to stay strong, and his calm questions were keeping her afloat, giving her a steady anchor. “Just the normal scrapes and bruises.”
“What about injuries?”
She frowned. “What do
“Kingsley can.”
“Kingsley?”
“Seekers’ computer expert.”
She didn’t dare ask how, just savored the relief thatsomeone could tell her if Tommy was a threat to Scotty.
Sorry, Tommy. It’s for your own good, for Scotty’s
. “Dr. Montgomery at the Whiteside Clinic.”
“What was Scotty wearing when he left?”
What had she noticed missing in his room? Was it only this morning? It felt more like a week.
“His clothing could snag against branches,” Sabriel offered before she could answer—as if he was trying to make up for his earlier brusqueness, but didn’t quite know how to go about it. “Could let me know where he’s been.”
Nora nodded and knitted her fingers into her lap. “Red backpack. Yellow fleece jacket. Camouflage pants. Hiking boots.”
“What else?”
“I didn’t exactly have time to take inventory.”
“A backpack’s a good sign.” The words hitched out as if acts of comfort were foreign to him. “Tommy probably had him pack layers.”
If Scotty had layers, then he’d stay warm at night and maybe his asthma wouldn’t flare up. The hopeful thought soothed the raw edge of her nerves.
“Tell me about his footwear.”
“Why?” One of her heels clacked against the floor mat like a manic drummer hammering the pedal of a bass drum and Nora wished she could get up and move instead of being strapped in this car seat doing nothing.
“So I know what kind of tracks to look for.” Sabriel’s voice remained smooth and even, but she sensed the calmness cost him.
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t be a burden tohim, so she dug deep. Try as she might, she couldn’t picture the boots. “Tommy got Scotty hiking boots for his birthday last September. He gets a discount at work. I don’t know the brand. Brown. That’s all I remember.”
“Size?”
A small yelp escaped her. “That, I know. Size six.”
“Hiking poles?”
She didn’t think Scotty had any, but that didn’t mean Tommy hadn’t provided him with some. “I don’t know.”
“What time did they leave? Your best guess.”
Her head ached and her thoughts snarled in a mess. To keep from falling apart, she went back to scratching the pink polish off her nails. “Scotty went to bed at eight. I checked on him at ten. I let him sleep in this morning because he’d had several asthma attacks over the week, and he needed extra sleep. If I’d checked in on him when I got up—”
“They could still have had hours of lead time.”
On a logical level, she understood this, but emotionally, she kept thinking that she could have done something more. That, if she’d only been more observant, she could have prevented this nightmare.
Sabriel tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel, reeling her back to the present. “What kind of outdoor experience does Scotty have?”
Scotty talked about the hikes he and his father took on their Saturdays together. But two hours every other weekend wasn’t very long and kept them close to home.
“He’s hiked with Tommy since he was little,” Nora said, but the true answer was another
I don’t know
.
How could she know so little about her own son? The one person she spent most of her days with? The one person she thought she knew better than herself?
“His asthma keeps him from most sports.” Much to the Colonel’s irritation. “Especially in the winter when the cold triggers attacks.” Cold like tonight. And last night. Was he okay?
“Other than the asthma, is he in good health?”
Sabriel’s question derailed her grim train of thought once again. And she finally understood that the interrogation was in part meant to keep her from drowning in worry. Why in the world was that clinical approach so comforting?
Because you’re a mess, Nora
. She had to stay strong, and his calm questions were keeping her afloat, giving her a steady anchor. “Just the normal scrapes and bruises.”
“What about injuries?”
She frowned. “What do
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