When she was a quarter mile from her house, she drifted to a stop in the middle of the highway lane. There was no traffic in either direction to be concerned about. She leaned forward, trying to see her house, wanting to make sure no one was waiting for them. If the police had come back, they’d already been there and left again. The land was empty. Her house looked sterile and abandoned.
“I think the coast is clear,” she told Purdue. “This won’t take me long.”
She turned into the driveway and drove until the truck was immediately outside her front porch. She turned off the engine. “Do you need to use the bathroom?” she asked the boy.
“No.”
“You’re sure?” she said with a smile.
Purdue nodded.
“Okay, well, we’ll need to stop for gas along the way. I’ll be right back.”
Lisa got out of the pickup. The sleet nipped at her face like a pack of mosquitoes. She climbed the porch steps, and then she removed her keys from her pocket as she walked to the front door. Before she could put the key in the lock, she noticed that the door wasn’t latched.
It was open an inch, rattling in the wind.
Had she left it that way? She didn’t always remember to lock her front door, but she was certain she had done so this time.
“Hello?” she called, slowly pushing the door inward. “Is anyone there?”
There was no point in being coy. If someone had broken in, they’d already seen her arrive. But no one answered. The house was cool and quiet, just the way she’d left it. Even so, there was a smell inside that wasn’t right. A hint of body odor. Someone had been there while she was gone. When she studied the hardwood floor, she could see that wetness had been tracked inside by someone’s shoes, and the puddles hadn’t had time to dry.
Lisa debated turning around and leaving immediately, but if her intruder had already come and gone, she decided she had time to deal with her wound. She ran upstairs to her bathroom and peeled off her vest and top. The blood from the cut on her neck had made a sticky mess from her collarbone all the way across her right breast, and she used a damp towel to clean herself. Quickly, she disinfected and dressed the cut itself. In her bedroom, she put on a new bra and a flannel shirt and deposited a few necessities from her dresser in a travel bag. The whole process took barely five minutes. She went to the kitchen, grabbed a box of power bars and some cheese sticks from the refrigerator, and then found a red leather jacket in her hall closet to replace the vest. She slipped her gun inside the pocket and went back outside. She made sure to lock the door behind her.
She hurried down the porch steps and across the gravel to the pickup, where she threw the bag behind her seat. Then she got in quickly and started the engine again. Her anxiety was on her face, and she knew Purdue could see it, but she didn’t say anything about what had happened. She put the truck in reverse and backed into a three-point turn, but as she did, she heard a low warning from the boy next to her.
“Lisa, look.”
She glanced out the driver’s window.
A police car was turning off the highway.
Her fear spiked as she recognized the vehicle. It was the same black SUV she’d seen overnight, from the Pennington County Sheriff’s Department. They were trapped, with no way to escape.
“Get down,” she instructed Purdue. “Don’t let them see you.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, but I won’t let them hurt you. Now stay out of sight.”
Lisa got out of the truck before the police SUV got close to her. She walked toward the narrow ribbon of her driveway. She was conscious of the weight of the Ruger in her jacket, and when she shoved her hands in the pockets, she slipped her palm around the butt of the gun. The black SUV stopped in front of her, blocking the way. She could see the deputies through the windshield.
Two men got out. They wore chocolate-brown uniforms from the sheriff’s department and flat-brimmed hats. She hadn’t been able to make out the faces of the cops who’d visited her house overnight, but she was sure that these were the same men. They had the right look.
One of the cops approached her, and one stayed by the door of the SUV. They looked about the same age—midtwenties—but the driver, who was heading her way, was clearly the one in charge. He took off his hat; his big head was bald. He was bulky, with the thick-necked build of a wrestler. He was clean shaven, and he had jutting ears and narrow, squinting eyes. His mouth didn’t smile; instead, his lips pushed together into a thin line.
“Ms. Power?” the man said in a voice that had no inflection. “I’m Deputy Garrett. My partner over there is Deputy Stoll.”
His partner, standing next to the SUV, was shorter and doughier. He had curly brown hair and long sideburns. He was working hard to offer a friendly face, but the warmth looked false.
Lisa thought about Purdue’s story. Two of them were policemen.
She shivered. Cold rain dripped down her back.
“I don’t know who you are, Deputy Garrett,” she snapped. “I don’t know Deputy Stoll, either, which is odd, because I’m pretty familiar with all of the police officers in Pennington County.”
“Well, Deputy Stoll and I are both new, ma’am. Transfers from Warroad. We’ve only been on the job here in the county for the past couple of months.”
“I see. And did the two of you pay a visit to my house in the middle of the night?”
The deputy rubbed his chin with a thick fist. She’d surprised him by knowing that. “Yes, actually, we did. We didn’t think you were home. We knocked, but there was no answer.”
“You had your weapons out while you were on my property,” Lisa said. “Why is that?”
“No, ma’am. I assure you we didn’t.”
“I saw your guns very clearly in the moonlight, Deputy.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken.”
Lisa frowned. She didn’t think she’d made a mistake, but his certainty was making her doubt herself. “You also checked to see if my front door was locked. Am I mistaken about that, too?”
Deputy Garrett grimaced as a wave of sleet slashed across his face. He looked uncomfortable now. “Ms. Power, if you would let me explain. You must know why we’re—”
Lisa interrupted him. “I got home a few minutes ago, and my front door was open, Deputy. I know I locked it before I left this morning. Did you break into my house? Do you have a warrant that would let you do that?”
“Ms. Power, please. I understand that you’re upset. We mean you no harm at all. Truly. Our only concern right now is the missing boy. We know he’s with you, and I’m sure that you feel protective of him, but it would be better for all of us if you let us take him with us.”
Lisa stiffened. He’d said it out loud. The boy.
He knew about the boy; he knew Purdue had come to her house. Then she realized: of course he knew. The word was all over town by now. They were looking for a boy, and she’d found a boy.
She tried to read the stolid faces of the police officers, but their expressions gave nothing away. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. If they were telling the truth, then the safest place for Purdue was to go with them. Maybe this whole nightmare was exactly what it looked like: a boy who’d escaped from a human trafficking ring; a ginger-haired killer who was trying to get him back; and the police officers hunting for both of them. These men, Deputy Garrett and Deputy Stoll, were the good guys.