“We need to do something,” she said. “We’re losing our cover and he might spot the SUV.”
“You, left, I’ll go right.”
They split up. A minute later their creep up to the house ended with them on either side of the shape that the coming light indeed showed to be a little boy.
A little boy who was crying. He was crying so hard, in fact, that he never even noticed Michelle step up beside him. When she touched his shoulder, though, he nearly jumped off the porch. Sean was on the other side of him, and managed to snag his arm before he had a chance to run for it.
“Who are you?” sputtered Gabriel, looking at them both with wild, tearstained eyes.
“Are you Gabriel?” asked Michelle, putting a hand on the boy’s other arm.
“How do you know my name?” he said fearfully.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Sean said. “We’re just here looking for someone. A little girl named Willa?”
“Are you the police?”
“Why would you think we’re the police?” asked Michelle, her grip tightening slightly on Gabriel’s thin arm.
Gabriel snuffled and then hunched over, studying his bare feet. “I don’t know.”
“Do you know where Willa is?”
“I don’t know anybody named Willa.”
“That wasn’t what we asked you,” said Sean. “We asked you if you knew where she was.”
“No, I don’t, okay? I don’t.”
“But you know about her?” said Michelle.
Gabriel looked up at her, his lids droopy, his features miserable. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did my ma.”
“No one said you did. Where is your mother?” asked Michelle.
“Sleeping.”
“Anybody else in the house?”
“I think Mr. Sam’s gone.”
“Sam Quarry?” said Sean.
“You know him?”
“I’ve heard about him. Why do you think he’s gone?”
“Truck’s not here,” the boy answered simply.
“Why were you crying when we came up?”
“Just… just because, that’s all.”
“There must be a reason,” Michelle said gently.
“You always have a reason why you cry?” Gabriel said defiantly.
“Yes.”