I lean forward, my heart pounding. “Is there anything you can tell us that wasn’t reported? Anything at all?”
I pull the photo from my bag and place it on the table. Saul leans in. His breath hitches slightly as he studies it for a while. Then he rubs his wrinkled brow. “That night, the tide was running hard to the south. There was a rip current too. It was stronger than it looked from shore. If someone went under…” He lets out a slow breath. “They wouldn’t come back up, at least not where they went in.”
My throat tightens.
“So you don’t think she survived?” Gabriel asks.
Saul scratches his beard. “If your girl swam out where they said she might have…” He pauses. “I’m sorry. I wish I could give you hope, but after what I’ve seen, you’d know how these things end.”
His words feel final, making it hard for me to breathe.
Gabriel drags a hand down his face. “You’re sure?”
“I don’t say things unless I’m sure,” Saul says. “I’ve pulled too many bodies out of this water to pretend about what the sea can do. The ocean is merciless.”
He looks at me, and for the first time I see sympathy in his eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am.” He runs a hand over his head. “Your girl should have stayed in the camp, where it’s safe. They should teach those kids more about rip currents, and they need to put up new signs.”
After taking a long moment to collect myself, I change the subject. “What about the youth camp? What do you know about it?”
His eyebrows rise a little and he leans back, clasping his hands over his stomach. “This town depends on the camp more than people admit. Summer brings money and jobs for locals. It gives those kids some structure too. Not all of them have goodhomes, you know. The camp takes in a few charity cases every now and then. Anyway, I’m sorry they couldn’t help your kid.”
Couldn’t help Sadie? They couldn’t even keep her alive.
I press my lips together, pull a card from my purse, write down my number, and slide it across the table. “Thank you for your time. If you remember anything. Anything at all.”
He takes it, nods once.
We stand up and Gabriel helps me onto the dock, which sways under our weight.
Behind us, Saul comes out of the cabin and keeps himself busy with a frayed rope, tying it to a piece of weathered metal.
“Shame,” he mutters quietly.
I look back. “What is?”
He keeps working without looking up. “All these missing kids.”
“From the camp? There are others?” I freeze.
“Yeah.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Every few years, one or two decide the camp isn’t for them and run off. I guess they can’t handle the world on their own.”
“They ran from the camp?” My stomach tightens as I grab Gabriel’s hand. “What happened to them next?”
He glances at the pier, distracted by someone shouting his name from another boat.
“No one knows. They might have drowned like your girl did. There were three I know of.” He lowers his voice. “One of them met a bad end.”
“How bad?” I ask.
Saul looks at his watch. “Sorry, ma’am. I need to go take care of some things before it gets dark.”
“Please,” I beg. “Do you remember their names at least?”
He hesitates, then hurries back into the cabin and returns with a folded scrap of paper with three names written on it. He hands it to me.
He points to one of the names. “That one…it’s a tragic story.”
“What do you mean? What happened to her?” I press, aware that Gabriel is very quiet next to me. Why isn’t he saying anything?
