The Last Letter(124)

“Seek Colt.”

She sniffed Maisie, no doubt smelling Colt on her, and then put her nose to the ground, heading toward the small grouping of kids. A pair of uniforms addressed no more than ten kids, all in some state of tears except one.

Emma. She stood off to the side, her back to me, looking up the trail.

“Mr. Gentry?” Another teacher stopped talking to the kids and walked over, her lip trembling. “Oh God. We just stopped for lunch, and then when we started again, the trail…it just…” She started sobbing. “We. Got. Separated.”

“Where?” I asked the uniform.

“Trail’s out around the corner, but there’s no sign of the kid. Some of the kids think they saw him on the other side.”

I put Maisie on the ground and placed her hand in Mrs. Rivera’s, who had followed us up. “Please keep her right here. Maisie, give me a couple minutes, okay?”

I forced a smile and stroked her cheek. Stay calm. Don’t let her see the panic. I repeated it to myself as I waited for her to nod. She couldn’t see this, couldn’t experience it, and as much as I wanted her at my side to keep her safe, she needed the protection of distance.

Then I took off, ignoring the teacher and following Havoc to where I’d already known she would lead—right to Emma.

The little girl stood looking up the trail, a good ten feet back from the edge of the drop-off. An officer kneeled at her level, speaking to her, but she wasn’t responding. Her eyes were blank, her mouth closed but lax, and in her hands, she gripped a Telluride Search and Rescue cap that Havoc was currently alerting me to.

No. No. No.

I tried to shove the panic down the way I had countless times in battle, but this was different. This was my worst nightmare.

“She’s not talking.” Every line of the officer’s face was tense.

“Give her some space and let me try.”

He nodded, backing away just far enough to hear but not hover.

“Emma,” I said gently as I dropped to her eye level and turned her toward me. “Emma, where did Colt go? How do you have his hat?”

Her eyes slowly shifted from the cliff to me. “I know you.”

“Yeah, you do. I belong to Colt and Maisie,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and calm, knowing if she slipped into shock any further, I’d lose any chance of getting information. “Can you tell me what happened?”

She nodded, the motions taking three times as long as normal. “We were eating lunch, right there.” She pointed to the group. “And then we finished, so we walked in a line, just like we’re supposed to. We weren’t even close to the edge, I promise!” Her voice broke.

The officer next to us started taking notes.

“I know. It’s okay.” I took her hands in my own with Colt’s cap between us. “What happened then?”

“We turned around to come back, because the other kids were slow eating. Then the ground just disappeared. It was gone so fast.”

“Okay, and what then?”

More uniforms gathered behind us, and I waved them off. She looked up at them and then at Colt’s hat, shutting down.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Mark. “Blanket.”

He took one from the new batch of officers and handed it to me.

“Keep them back. She’s in shock, and they’re making it worse.” He nodded and started barking orders as I put the heavy material around her. “It’s just you and me, Emma. Can you tell me what happened next?”

Her eyes rose to mine. “The ground left, and I started to fall. Colt grabbed my hand and pulled? I think? Or pushed. I was behind him, and then I was in front of him. It was so loud. Like ice cubes in a glass.”

Landslide. It had to be.

“I tried to grab him, but it was done. Then I was at the edge, and he was gone. I had this.” She lifted his hat.

My heart stopped. It ceased beating, and everything around me froze. Then my heart pounded, and the world sprung into life again, but felt twice as fast.

Colt. Oh my God, Colt.

“Some of the kids think they saw him on the other side. Is that what happened? Did you get separated?” Please, say yes. Please.

She shook her head slowly.

“Emma, did he fall?” My voice was high, strained by the giant lump in my throat.

She nodded.

For three heartbeats, I didn’t think I was going to be able to get control. But I sucked air into my lungs and somehow back out.

“Thank you,” I told her. Then I sprinted up the path, whistling for Havoc. She came up on my heels and then right beside me. The trail narrowed as we rounded the corner, and I skidded to a halt, grabbing Havoc’s vest as she slid.

“Careful, it’s a bad drop,” one of the county guys said, leaned up against the hillside. “I don’t see any sign of the kid, though, which is good. He’s probably on the other side of the trail like the teacher thinks. We’re just waiting for the team to come up from the other side.”

Five feet in front of us, the cliff-side portion of the trail had fallen away, and the rest looked ready to go. My heart climbed into my throat. “Stay,” I croaked at Havoc.

Then I inched forward, bracing my hand on the hillside to keep steady. Peering over the edge, I saw a dramatic fall—maybe fifty feet—that ended in a steep, tree-covered slope.