Mindy Mejia - Leave No Trace

WE DARTED THROUGH the house as Jasper’s barks echoed behind us. At the back door, I took a deep breath and motioned for Lucas to be quiet, then unlocked it and stepped into the night. The wind had picked up, battering us as we crept across the lawn. Each crunch of grass echoed in my ankle as I negotiated the roots and twigs, praying I didn’t trip over any of them and give us away. Why were the police at my house? Either Dr Mehta was worried that I hadn’t answered my phone or someone had seen Lucas in the neighborhood. I felt the weight of a thousand neighbors’ stares on our backs. Charges raced through my head: aiding and abetting , accessory , repeat offender . The last one found its mark and sent a shot of adrenaline through my system, bracing me, numbing me better than any drug as I acknowledged the full implications of what I was doing.

Behind us a flashlight beam arced across the neighbor’s lawn. They’d be turning the corner any second.

We ducked into the shadows of the garage and raced to the side door. There were no windows in here. We could wait out the cops and decide what to do next. With shaking fingers, I eased the creaky knob open and pushed against the wood. Lucas was a millisecond behind me as we rushed inside, then both of us staggered to a halt.

Dad stood next to his truck holding a tire iron.

His arm relaxed when he saw me, but he stared at Lucas, obviously trying to figure out what was going on.

‘Dad.’ I checked behind us to see the lawn was still empty. ‘This is…’

A few different lies zipped through my head, none of them really plausible with Lucas standing there in hospital scrubs and one arm bound in a sling. Before I could pick one, he cleared his throat and finished the sentence for me.

‘Lucas Blackthorn.’

Lucas glanced at me, apparently as unsure as I was about how to proceed.

‘Your picture’s been all over the news tonight.’ The surprise on Dad’s face melted into suspicion and even though he kept his eyes on Lucas, I knew the next question was for me.

‘What the hell’s going on here?’

‘Dad—’

‘Sir—’

We spoke at the same time, both of us stepping forward right as a policeman walked through the main garage door. He surveyed the scene and homed in on Lucas, easily identifying him in the light from the workbench. Without acknowledging any of us, he pulled his gun and radioed his coordinates in, asking for backup. It was over.

With a sinking feeling, I turned my back on everyone else and touched Lucas’s coat.

‘Don’t put up a fight. If you have to go to jail, I’ll try to get them to release you as soon as possible. Just ignore everyone like you always do.’

His arm was rigid, almost bursting with tension. ‘But’ – he dropped his voice, gaze frozen on the officer – ‘my father.’

‘It’s okay.’ I patted the sling, trying to reassure him, to sound like I had the power to make any of this okay. ‘Be mute. I’ll handle the rest.’

Dad stood off to the side, obviously listening to our exchange. I lifted my chin, determined not to be ashamed of the choices I’d made tonight. Our gazes met for a split second and then, just as the officer finished his radio call, Dad turned around and set the tire iron on a shelf.

‘Glad you stopped by,’ he said conversationally. ‘My name’s Brian Stark. Look who I found wandering around on the docks.’

‘Sir, this young man is considered a dangerous individual. I’d advise you to back away. You too, miss.’

‘Shit, him? More like a lost puppy. Come here, boy. Lucas, isn’t it?’

Although digesting the turn of events, Lucas seemed rooted to his spot. I leaned into him, nudging him forward. Shoulders still tight, his free hand fisted, he took a calculated step toward my dad.

He swallowed before speaking. ‘Yes, sir?’

‘You feel like hurting any of us?’

‘Of course not.’ His face, though, said the exact opposite.

‘See?’ Dad gave Lucas what appeared to be a pat on the shoulder, but I knew that move from the days when I’d run loose on the streets, unwilling to listen to a thing he said. Dad was anchoring him in place. ‘I brought him here to see what Maya wanted to do with him.’

‘Sir, you should have brought him immediately to the station.’ The officer still had his gun trained on his suspect.

I spoke up. ‘I work with Lucas at Congdon.’

The officer’s expression made it clear he didn’t think I looked capable of much more than graffiti, let alone having a career. ‘My orders said the suspect’s doctor lived here.’

‘She’s a speech therapist working for Dr Riya Mehta,’ Dad said. ‘Great woman. Anyway, we finished detailing the boat and I was headed back to my truck when I spotted this one dangling off the Northland Pier. I’d seen the news of course, so I went over and told him I was Maya’s dad and he came along with me. We were just fixing to take him back. Right, Lucas?’

I saw my dad’s grip tighten on Lucas’s shoulder and there was a beat before Lucas nodded and let his hand uncurl at his side. ‘I’m sorry if I caused anyone any trouble. I wanted to see Superior. I kept hearing about it and… wanted to see the water for myself.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ The officer grumbled, relaxing his stance. He waved the gun at the truck. ‘Go stand over there and put your hands on the hood. I have to pat you down anyway.’

Lucas glanced at me and I nodded, so he stiffly walked to the truck and submitted to the inspection. Two more squad cars showed up within a few minutes, their lights flashing all over the alley. The neighbors I’d imagined watching us before were now glued to their windows and I saw at least one phone pointed at us from behind some curtains. I hobbled back to the house where Jasper was losing his mind and sent Dr Mehta a text to let her know the situation.

After an extensive argument and two calls to superiors, I convinced the officers we should take Lucas directly back to Congdon according to our ‘original plan.’ The hospital obviously didn’t employ enough security to contain him, the courts had already placed him in our care, and no additional crime had been committed. Eventually they agreed and even allowed Dad and me to drive him, with a police escort. Lucas and I climbed into the back of Dad’s truck and we followed the police motorcade out of the alley.

Dad punched the radio off and gripped the steering wheel in silence. Lucas stared out the window at the dark houses and wind buffeted trees, the empty storefronts lined with Lincoln Park’s night dwellers – dealers and drunks peppered in with the blue-collar crowd out draining their paychecks – as we drove toward downtown.

‘Thanks, Dad.’

‘What happened to your foot?’ He took a turn too sharp, making Lucas lean into me and me brace against the door.

‘Why aren’t you still on the water?’ I countered.

‘There’s a storm coming in.’

‘But the Bannockburn —’

‘The Bannockburn ’s been out there for a hundred years. It can wait a little longer. Your foot, Maya.’

I sighed. When he’d texted about the video and news coverage this morning, I’d omitted the part about spraining an ankle, assuming he wouldn’t be back until long after it healed. I should have known better. Briefly, I recounted the Taser incident and the hospital’s treatment.

‘The X-ray showed no breaks. It’s fine. I can barely feel it.’

‘You don’t limp when you’re fine,’ he snapped, and we both fell silent, hitting a stalemate.

As we began climbing the hill, Lucas turned away from the window, glancing between me and the back of Dad’s head. Duluth wasn’t a big city and the amount of time we had left in this ride was already dwindling. Police lights blinked over his skin, forcing my mind up the hill to what lay ahead.