“I don’t know,” he said.
Police cars entered our street within seven minutes.
The first officer asked us to step away from the pool.
The second photographed the removed cover, the bins of Orbeez, and the wet footprints we had left around the patio.
Police cars entered our street within minutes.
A third officer examined the gate.
No broken lock.
No damaged fence.
Whoever entered had known how to lift the latch from the outside.
Neighbors gathered behind curtains and hedges.
Someone recorded from across the street until an officer asked them to stop.
No damaged fence.
***
Detective Rios arrived last. He had worked the case of Mason’s disappearance.
I had not seen him in nearly a year, but he still looked at me the same way.
As if every sentence might break something.
“Abby.”
I pointed toward the pool.
“The shovel.”
He followed my hand.
I pointed toward the pool.
Then he crouched near the edge.
“Can we confirm it from here?”
Carmelo shook his head.
“Not completely.”
Rios called for the fire department’s water rescue team.
While we waited, officers searched the yard.
One found wheel marks near the side gate.
Officers searched the yard.
Another found several torn plastic bags behind the hedge, the kind Orbeez came in when purchased in bulk.
Nothing carried a name.
Nothing explained why.
The rescue team entered the pool at 10:17 a.m.
Two divers cleared the remaining beads from the case while another secured straps around the base.
The object rose slowly. Water ran from its sides.
Nothing explained why.
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