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We ran back to the squad and kept going. Tammy and Ted were right behind us. Travis studied the map and the winding roads that snaked through the campsites.

“Left at the next corner, son. That should be a road with the forties on it.”

“Copy. Looking for forty-three.”

Travis pointed with his smoke. “There.”

“Yeah, I see the people.”

Campsite forty-three had drawn people from all the neighboring sites and all the campers—men, women and kids—were clustered around the picnic table where a little boy sat crying.

His face smudged with tears and dirt. He didn’t seem hurt, but I could only see the top half of him. He looked about six or seven. Brown shaggy hair and blue eyes. Dirty T-shirt. A few splatters of red that could be blood or…something else. Hope it was ketchup.

Next to him was a young woman in her thirties and she had her arm around the little boy trying to comfort him.

“Tammy, take the little boy to your squad and sit in the back seat with him. Give him water and wait until he’s able to talk toyou.”

“Copy, Sheriff.”

“Ted and Harlan, use the campsite next door and get the names and addresses of all these folks. Take their statements one at a time.”

“Copy, boss.”

Travis said, “At this picnic table,” he pointed, “I want only the people who belong to this campsite. All the rest go with the deputies to the next campsite.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the crowd cleared, Travis was left with the blonde lady who had been cuddling the little boy, her husband, and their son, who was about ten.

Max and Sarge sat like statues next to Travis’s leg. “Your names?”

“Jan and Pat Farmer. This is our son, Jeff.”

“Hey, Jeff.” Travis turned on the recorder and set up the interview. “Just tell me what happened this morning. You were probably getting up or thinking about breakfast when the little boy showed up.”

“Yes,” said Pat. “I was making coffee on the Coleman stove and Jan was still in the tent with Jeff. The little guy just wandered along the road, saw me at the picnic table and walked over to me.”

“And he said?”

“My mom and dad are hurt.”

“Which direction did he come from?” asked Travis.

“He came from the east, but I don’t know which campsite. Or even if his parents were campers. Just don’t know.”

“Right, at this point we don’t know much.”

“I asked him if he was camped here,” said Pat, “and he said he didn’t know.”

“Okay.”

“Then Jan came out of the tent to see who I was talking to, and she asked him where his mommy and daddy were.”

“And what did he say?”

“He pointed and said,They’re back there, but I think they’re dead.And that was it. He never said another word after that. He just sat on the bench. I made breakfast and Jan called your office. He ate a bowl of cereal with Jeff. Never said anything else.”

“Never said his name?”