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?”
9
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.
And yet. And yet.
Something stopped her. Purdue’s panic about the police still gave her pause.
Kill the boy.
She continued north for a couple of miles to the next intersection, and then she turned left toward the main highway. But she needed a place to think. When she spotted a dirt road, she slowed and turned, hidden by the cover of the trees. Even the jostling of the truck on theuneven road didn’t wake Purdue. She continued until the trees ended at a small swimming pond that she knew well. The weeds near the shore were crushed where others had parked here before her. Out on the water, rain dimpled the black surface. It was getting colder, and she could see a hint of texture in the rain, as if it was threatening to become snow.
Beside her, Purdue twitched like a puppy. She heard him making noises in his sleep, as if he was caught in a bad dream. She reached over and gently put a hand on his knee, but at the barest touch, he jolted awake, screaming. He lashed out with his tiny fists; his legs kicked; his blue eyes were frozen with fear. When he looked at her, she saw no recognition in his eyes. He grabbed for the door handle and was halfway out of the truck when she threw her arms around him and pulled him back.
“Wait! Purdue, wait, it’s me, it’s Lisa. Everything’s okay.”
She held him tightly, trying to calm him. He strained against her, as slippery and hard to hold as a snake. Then, slowly, his nightmare yielded. He looked around, at the truck, at the trees, at the lake, at her. His breathing slowed, and he let her ease him back onto the seat of the pickup. The door still hung ajar, wind and rain blowing inside.
“It was just