The Boy from the Woods(75)
Wilde nodded. “And that’s what Rusty does with the media.”
“Exactly. He constantly berates them and so they cringe and get scared, to keep within the metaphor, to blow the whistle. All politicians do it, of course. Rusty is just better at it.”
“We should still confront Dash with what Arnie Poplin told you.”
“Done already.”
“And?”
Hester shrugged. “What do you think? Dash denied it. He called it ‘rubbish.’ He actually used the word too. Rubbish.”
“Unfortunate. Your takeaway?”
“Same as yours.”
“They’re hiding something.”
“Right.” She patted his leg. “Okay, bubbalah, so what did you learn?”
Wilde started by telling her what Bernard Pine said about his ex-wife abusing Naomi. Hester just shook her head. “This world.”
“Something isn’t sitting right with that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Wilde said. “I still think we need to talk to Naomi’s mother. I told Rola to find her.”
“Good. What else?”
Wilde told her about the app communication between Crash and maybe Naomi as well as Ava’s conversations with Naomi about a budding relationship between the two teens.
“All signs point to Crash and Naomi being together,” Hester said.
Wilde said nothing.
“So let’s say that’s true for the moment,” she continued. “Let’s say these two teens secretly fell for each other and decided to run off.”
“Okay.”
Hester shrugged. “How does that turn into a ransom demand?”
Wilde didn’t reply. He checked the time. “Less than an hour to the kidnapper’s deadline. Should we head inside?”
“They said to meet at 3:45 p.m. in the library.”
“They, meaning Dash and Delia Maynard?”
“Yes.”
“Any idea what they plan on doing?”
“They don’t want to tell us until then.”
Wilde looked back at the view. “That’s not normal.”
“No, it’s not.”
They both faced the view now. Hester closed her eyes and let the rays warm her.
“How to put this delicately,” Hester said.
Wilde kept his eyes on the distant skyscrapers. “Delicately,” he repeated. “Not your forte, Hester.”
“True, so here goes: I was thinking about spending the night at Laila’s, but I don’t want to sleep over if you are.”
Wilde couldn’t help but smile. “I definitely won’t be.”
“Oh.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to stay though.”
“Oh,” Hester said. And then again: “Oh. Really?”
Wilde said nothing.
“Can I be nosey?”
“I assume that’s a rhetorical question.”
“It’s been six years since we really communicated.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said.
“Me too, and I hope it’s not because of David.”
David. Saying the name out loud stilled even the trees.
“I don’t blame you. I never have. You understand that, right?”
Wilde didn’t answer. “Is that what you want to be nosey about?”
“No,” Hester said. “I won’t say you’re like a son to me because that’s way over the top. I have three sons. They’re the only ones like a son to me. But I was there from the beginning—from the first day you came out of the woods. We were all there. Me. Ira. David, of course.”
“You were very good to me,” Wilde said.
“That’s not why I’m raising this either, so let me put it bluntly. Those online DNA genealogy tests have become super popular. I even took one a few years ago.”
“Any surprises?”
“Not a one. I’m so boring.”
“But you want to know if I took one,” he said.
“It’s been six years,” she said. “So yes, I want to know if you took one.”
“I did. Very recently, as a matter of fact.”
“Any surprises?”
“Not a one. I’m so boring too.”
“Seriously?”
“No parents or siblings. The closest thing was a second cousin.”
“That’s a start,” she said.
Wilde shook his head. “No, Hester, it’s not. If you’re looking for a missing kid—son, brother, whatever—you’d be on that DNA site. No one is looking for me, ergo no one cares. I don’t mean that in a pity-me way. But they left a small child alone in those woods for years—”
“You don’t know that,” Hester said, interrupting.
Wilde turned to look at her, but she wouldn’t look back at him.
“Don’t know what?” he asked.
“How long you were out there.”
“Not exactly, no.”
“It could have been days.”
Wilde didn’t know what to make of this. “What are you talking about? Your son and I played for years.”