That was before my husband and I were divorced. Mark and Danny were always begging us to take them there. I always thought of the lake as being so beautiful. It was that deep azure blue and the way the water would sparkle in the sunlight, like glittering diamonds. It was always so cool and peaceful there. The nights were always clear, and we’d look up at those millions of stars. But that Monday, that Labor Day, as we drove along in the police car, the lake seemed so different to me. It had started to rain. It wasn’t beautiful at all that day. Now, it seemed dark and foreboding. And, of course, I knew the reason why. Call it a premonition, call it what you like, but I had this horrible feeling. My son, Danny had disappeared, without a trace and I was afraid they would never find him again.” 11:45 a.m. Shortly before noon. Labor Day. September, 1999. Half Moon Lake was a long, narrow, crescent-shaped body of water nestled high in the San Bernardino Mountains.
