Brian Freeman - Thief River Falls

Purdue’s mouth hung open. “Seriously? That’s what you see?”

“Yup. Scary, right?”

“Yeah, but scary stories are fun. I like them. What does it all mean?”

“I don’t know. I won’t know until I write the book. But all my life, those are the things I’ve seen wherever I go. I don’t look at the world the way other people do. I live somewhere else. To me, every place turns into stories and crimes and characters and mysteries.”

“That sounds pretty cool.”

“It is. Although honestly, there are days when I wish I could see nothing but tractor ruts, just like you.”

She gave Purdue a grin. With a scrape of rock under her tires, she guided the pickup back onto the dirt road and headed east. Another mile passed. She could see the boy staring through the window, deep in thought, as if he was trying to see the things that she saw. Thriller things. Mystery things. And maybe he could. Children had the gift, the second sight, the sixth sense. Sometimes she wondered if most writers were really just children who’d never grown up.

At the next dirt road, she turned again.

That was when Purdue shouted, “There! That’s it!”

Lisa tapped the brakes. She leaned across the pickup, her stare following the direction where the boy was pointing. A quarter mile away, she saw a cluster of farm buildings on the border of an old cornfield. The property had seen better days, the white paint on the house flaking away, an old snowmobile rusting in the unmowed grass. She drove on until she reached the dented mailbox near the road, which bore the name LANCASTER.

In the driveway near the house was a dirty black Volkswagen panel van.

“That’s the truck I was in,” Purdue said.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, that’s it. It was black, just like that. I remember now, the back door was open, so I snuck inside. There was a blanket bunched up in the back, and I hid under it. Then somebody came and slammed the door, and the truck drove away. This is where I got out. Right here.”

Lisa studied the farm field, and she could see trees marking the horizon line under the dark clouds a couple of miles away. There were no roads between here and there. She knew what you would find if you took off across the field and kept going through the trees.

Her house.

“Stay here,” she told Purdue.

The farm felt deserted, almost abandoned. She turned into the driveway and parked behind the van, and when she got out of the pickup, a fierce wind pushed at her back. A few stray drops of rain landed on her face. She walked toward the house and realized that the quietness of the property was an illusion. Getting closer, she heard wind chimes, and she smelled fresh bread. A dog barked, and then a white Lab bounded across the overgrown grass to greet her. She bent down, letting it get to know her, and the two of them climbed up the porch steps together.

Lisa rapped her knuckles on the frame. A few seconds later, a middle-aged woman pushed open the screen door, letting the dog inside. She stepped outside onto the porch with Lisa. She had graying hair and a pleasant face, and she wore a cream-colored dress with a bright white apron tied around her waist. With the door open, the smell of baking bread got stronger.

The woman smiled. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Mrs. Lancaster?” Lisa asked, remembering the name on the mailbox.

“Yes.”

“My name’s Lisa—” she began, but the woman stopped her before she could say anything more.

“Oh, I know who you are, Ms. Power. I was actually at a talk you did at the library a couple of years ago. I have to tell you, I just love your books. It’s so exciting to see places I know in a bestseller. Especially when we live out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Well, thank you. That’s very kind.”

“What can I do for you? Are you working on something new? If you need a crime scene, feel free to use our house. Kill anyone you want.”

Lisa laughed. “I appreciate the offer. Actually, this may sound like a strange question, but it’s about your truck outside. Do you know if it was out on the roads yesterday evening?”

“Oh, yes, my husband does deliveries all around the area. He didn’t get back until pretty late.”

“Do you know where he was last night?”

“I’m pretty sure his last stop was at the hospital in Thief River Falls.”

“The hospital?”

“That’s right. Why, is there a problem?”

“No, no problem.” Lisa struggled for a lie to explain herself, and then she realized that the only thing that made sense was the truth. “Actually, it’s possible your husband had a little stowaway in his truck without realizing it. A child. A boy showed up at my house last night, and I think he may have hidden in the back of your van. Then he headed off across the fields.”

“Oh, my goodness! Is he okay?”

“I think so, but I’m trying to figure out where he belongs.”

“Is he a runaway?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I wish I could help, but I’m sure Eldred didn’t have a clue that the boy was in his truck. He didn’t say anything about it. I can’t believe the child came all this way and then just wandered off. How terrible. He could have been seriously hurt. I’m so glad he found you.”

“Did your husband mention anything unusual going on at the hospital when he made his delivery?” Lisa asked.

“Unusual? I don’t think so. Did the boy run away from there? Was he a patient?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, if I can do anything at all to help, please let me know.”

“Thank you. I will. I appreciate your time, Mrs. Lancaster.”

“Of course. Don’t make us wait too long for that next book!”

“I’ll try.”

Lisa turned to leave, but before she got off the porch, the woman called after her.

“Oh, wait! I don’t know what I was thinking! I must be so flustered meeting a celebrity. You asked about anything unusual going on, and I completely forgot about what happened at the house overnight.”

“What happened?” Lisa asked.

“The police! The police showed up. I’m surprised they didn’t visit your house, too.”

“Local police?”

“No, Pennington County, actually.”

“What did they want? Were they looking for a boy?”

Mrs. Lancaster shook her head. “No, no, that’s not what they said. They told me they were looking for a man. A dangerous man. A fugitive of some kind, I guess. They said they were searching the entire area. We made sure to lock our doors after they were here, I’ll tell you that.”

“Did they say who this man was?” Lisa asked.

“No, but it makes me wonder if he’s connected to this little boy of yours. You better get him in safe hands soon.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, this man they were hunting for, apparently he’s involved in human trafficking across the border. Children! Taking children from their parents! Can you imagine anyone doing something like that?”

Human trafficking.

Lisa thought about the police showing up at her house with their guns out in the middle of the night. And about Purdue, injured, escaping from somewhere, with no memory of the trauma that had brought him to her. Maybe the real danger to the boy was from a stranger in the shadows. A criminal, out to recapture a child who’d escaped from his web.

She hiked down the Lancaster driveway back to her pickup truck. When she glanced in the window, she saw that Purdue had drifted to sleep while waiting for her. She got into the truck quietly, trying not to wake him, and she drove out on the empty roads again. She wondered if she’d made a mistake by not going to the police right away. It occurred to her that the best thing to do was to go back home and wait for the two deputies to return and hand the boy over to them.