Free Try Darkness by James Scott Bell

you?”
    Kylie thought a moment, then whispered in my ear, “The closet.”
    “She says she was in the closet,” I said.
    “Can she talk to me?”
    Kylie shook her head.
    “I think I’d better translate,” I said.
    Brosia frowned. “Now that’s a new one on me. Doesn’t that present a hearsay problem?”
    “Not for investigatory purposes,” I said. “It’ll be all right. I’ll swear to everything on the statement.”
    Brosia shrugged. “We’ll go with it, then. So Kylie, you were in the closet?”
    Kylie nodded.
    “Why were you in the closet?”
    She whispered to me. I said, “She plays and sleeps in the closet. It’s like her room.”
    “Did you see what happened to your mommy?”
    Kylie whispered that she saw a man. I told Detective Brosia. It continued that way, with me as the go-between.
    “How did you see the man?”
    “There’s a crack in the door.”
    “You mean the closet door has a crack down the middle because it folds, right?”
    Kylie nodded.
    “Was it dark in the room?”
    “Mommy had lights on.”
    “So you could see what was going on?”
    “Some.”
    “Do you know how this man got inside the room? Did he walk in or knock on the door?”
    “Mommy let him in.”
    “So your mommy knew him?”
    She shrugged.
    “Had you seen this man before?”
    She shook her head.
    “Can you describe this man?”
    Kylie looked at me, confused.
    “Can you tell me what he looked like?” Brosia said.
    At this point Kylie drew some strength and faced Brosia. She answered him directly now. “I only saw his back. He had black clothes and a rainbow hat.”
    “A rainbow hat?” Brosia said. “Can you tell me anything else about the hat?”
    Kylie shrugged. “Rainbowy.”
    “Lots of colors on it?”
    Kylie nodded.
    “Anything else?”
    She shook her head. Brosia seemed frustrated.
    Then Kylie said, “I can draw it.”
    Brosia scratched his chin. “That’s not a bad idea. Do you want to use your crayons, Kylie?”
    “I’m tired,” Kylie said.
    “You’re doing great,” I said. “A real champ.”

36
    KYLIE TOOK HER crayons and drew a pretty good rendition of a man in a hat. She drew green and red and yellow rings on the hat.
    “It looks like one of those Rasta hats,” Brosia said. “I think we have one in the evidence locker. Hold on another minute.”
    He left again.
    Kylie sighed.
    “Almost done,” I said. “Then we’ll go to a place where you can see the mountains and the sky for miles.”
    “Really?”
    “Yep.”
    “Is it a hiding place?”
    “Sort of,” I said. “It’s not a place a lot of people know about. It’s where I’m staying right now.”
    “I want to stay with you.”
    “Then that’s how it’ll be.”
    Brosia came back in holding a knit Rasta hat with the distinctive color rings.
    “That’s it!” Kylie said, surprised and a little scared. “Is the man here?”
    “No,” Brosia said softly. “This isn’t the same hat. But this is like the one the man in the room wore?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “That’s pretty distinctive,” I said. “Somebody at the hotel should have noticed that. Somebody sitting in the lobby, or the desk clerk.”
    Brosia said, “What color skin did the man have?”
    Kylie thought about it. “I stopped looking.”
    “I think she’s about through,” I said.
    “Just a few more questions.” Brosia leaned forward. “Did you see the man hurt your mommy?”
    Kylie shook her head.
    “Could you hear what was happening? Was there an argument or a fight?”
    “There was talking but I couldn’t hear.”
    “Then what happened?”
    “There wasn’t talking for a long time. I went to sleep.”
    “How long did you sleep?”
    Kylie shrugged.
    “When you woke up, what did you do?”
    “I came out and saw Mommy on the bed. I said her name. But she didn’t wake up. I ran to Mr. Hoover.”
    “Mr. Hoover who lives across from you,” Brosia said.
    “Uh-huh. And he came in and he said Mommy was dead and he went to get the