Thief River Falls (20 page)

“Purdue?” she murmured.

He said nothing, but she could tell that the rattling of the train had jarred something loose in his head.

“Purdue, talk to me.”

He looked up at her, and suddenly he was calm.

“That’s how I got here,” he said. “I came on a train. I was running away.”

23

“Running away?” Lisa said. “What were you running from?”

“I was in the hospital.”

Lisa took his hand. The two of them were still in her parents’ bedroom, looking down from the window at the train tracks. He recited the story with that odd detachment he often had in his voice, as if the events had happened to someone else. Maybe that was the only way he could face it, like a character in a novel.

“Why were you in the hospital?” she asked. “Were you sick? Or hurt?”

He shook his head and then wiped his nose with his sleeve. “It wasn’t me.”

Lisa didn’t understand at first. And then she did. She made a guess. “Was it your mother?”

Purdue nodded.

“Do you remember where you were?”

“No. We had to go somewhere because of what was wrong with her. I didn’t know where it was. We drove for a long time.”

“And where’s home? Do you remember that?”

“We didn’t really have a home,” he said. “We moved around a lot. My mom had friends in different places, and we’d go there and stay with them for a while. But we always kept moving. I don’t remember
us staying anywhere for a long time. Sometimes we’d just sleep in her car if it wasn’t too cold. We kept all of our stuff with us there.”

Lisa thought of the key she’d found in his pocket. Not a house key. A car key.

“It was just the two of you?” Lisa asked.

“Yes.”

“What about your father?”

The boy shrugged. “I never met him. Mom never talked about him.”

Lisa realized that she really was dealing with a lost boy in Purdue. Homeless. The child of a single mother. She’d hoped there would be a better explanation for his missing past, something that gave him a family and a place to go. Instead, here he was. Alone. With her.

“Purdue, what happened to your mom?”

The boy took a long time to say anything more. “Months ago, she started having headaches. Really bad ones. We were staying with one of her friends, and she said Mom should go see a doctor, but Mom didn’t want to do that. Doctors cost a lot of money, and we didn’t have any. She said it was nothing. She said the headaches would go away, but they didn’t. They got worse. A lot worse. There was one night where Mom woke up in the middle of the night, and she was screaming because it hurt so bad.”

“That must have been very scary,” Lisa murmured.

He nodded. “I made her go to the doctor. She didn’t want to, but I said she had to. The doctor put her in a big tube where they could see inside her, and after that, he said she needed to go to a hospital right away.”

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with her?”

“Well, he said they were going to take out her brain.”

Lisa wanted to smile, but she knew what he meant. “A brain tumor? They were going to remove a brain tumor?”

“I guess so.”

“So you went to a hospital?”

“Yes. They shaved my mom’s head. I didn’t like that. It didn’t look like her anymore. I remember sitting in a room and talking with her before they took her away. We talked for a long time. We talked about places we’d been. Stuff we’d done. That was nice. But doctors and nurses kept coming in, and they were whispering to each other. My mom said everything was going to be fine, that I shouldn’t be scared or worry about anything. I didn’t believe her.”

“I understand.”

“She talked to me about Canada while we were there, too. She talked about it a lot. She said that’s where she grew up. She never told me that before. I don’t think her parents were very nice to her. She said her dad did some bad things, and after that, she ran away and never went back. But she said she missed Canada. She talked about how pretty it was in the snow. She wanted me to see it someday.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” Lisa said. “We’re pretty close to Canada here, you know.”

The boy said nothing.

“What happened next?” she asked.

“They came and took her away. Mom was crying. She was holding my hand and saying how much she loved me and that she would see me soon. Then she was gone. She was gone a long time. Everybody kept coming up and asking how I was, which was really stupid. I was fine. My mom was the one who was sick. They wanted to play games with me, and get stuff for me to eat and drink, and put on videos for me, but I just wanted my mom back.”

Lisa had no trouble imagining this calm, serious boy at the center of a whirlwind as all the nurses fussed over him. Nothing was worse in a hospital than a child who was alone.

She didn’t want to ask the next question, because she already suspected what the answer was. “Did your mom come back?”

Purdue shook his head. “No. I told you, Lisa: people die in hospitals.”

Somehow he managed to fight off his own tears, but Lisa surrendered to hers. She pulled his little body close and hugged him, and she cried silently. It felt strange, as if he were the one comforting her.

“I’m so sorry, Purdue.”

“A man and a woman came and told me that Mom died. They said the doctors tried and tried and did everything they could, but Mom’s heart stopped in the middle of what they were doing, and it wouldn’t start again. They acted like I didn’t even know what that meant. Then they started asking me all sorts of questions.”

Lisa nodded. “I bet they did.”

“They asked about where I lived, and where my dad was, and what family I had, and stuff like that.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I lied. I said my dad was on his way, and he’d take me home. I said we lived in a really big house and had lots of money. They didn’t believe me. I knew what was going to happen. They were going to take me away and put me with strangers somewhere. That’s what they do with kids who don’t have anybody.”

“What did you do?” Lisa asked.

“I said I was hungry. And I was. So they took me to the cafeteria and got dinner for me, and I put another sandwich and some cookies in my pocket when they weren’t looking. Then I said I had to go to the bathroom. But I didn’t. I ran down the hallway and out of the hospital.”

Lisa shook her head. She thought about this brave, foolish kid, going off on his own in the minutes after his mother had died. She could imagine the panic he’d left behind at the hospital. It wouldn’t be hard to find out where this had all happened, but even when she did, she realized she would be sending him back to nothing. He was right. They would give him to strangers. And it still didn’t explain how
he’d found himself in the middle of a murder scene, with people who wanted him dead.

“Where did you go?”

He pointed out the window. “There were train tracks near the hospital. A train was stopped there, and some guys were hanging out. I asked them where the train was going.”

“What did they say?”

“Canada. They said the train was going to Canada. I thought, that’s what my mom wanted. She wanted me to see Canada. I figured she was telling me what to do. Like she’d sent the train for me. So I decided to get on.”

“What were you planning to do when you got there?”

“I don’t know. Mom made it sound really pretty, and I just wanted to see it. So I walked next to the train until I found a car that was open, and I climbed inside. The train started up again right after that. As we left, I could see lots of people outside the hospital. Doctors. Nurses. Police. I figured they were looking for me, so I hid, and nobody saw me. I stayed on the train, and it started going faster. It was great. Way better than being in a car.”

“How long were you on the train?”

“All day.”

“What did you see?”

“Oh, lots of things! Lots of cows and sheep. We went over a lot of rivers, too. We stopped in some towns. Not big towns. Not like a city. We kept going and going, but eventually it got dark, and it started to get colder. And it started raining outside, too. Pouring. Then we stopped again. I kept waiting for the train to start, but it didn’t. It just sat there. I figured maybe we were there, you know? I figured we were in Canada. So I got off the train. I saw a couple men hanging around, and I thought about asking them where I was, but I figured they’d start asking me questions, and then they’d send me back. I didn’t want that.”

“You stayed here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what you saw near the train? Do you remember where you were?”

“I saw a plane,” Purdue said. “A plane landed right over my head. I thought it was going to land on top of me.”

“You were near the airport,” Lisa murmured. “There are railroad tracks just east of there. Where did you go then?”

“I walked. I don’t know for how long. I started across some fields, and after a while, I got to a river. I couldn’t get across, so I walked next to the water. It was still raining, and I was soaked. I was getting pretty cold and tired, and I was scared. And I missed my mom, you know?”

“I know.”

“I found a little house,” Purdue went on.

“Like a cabin?”

“I guess.”

“Where was it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know where I was, but I was still right near the water. I thought I could hide in there for a while, but somebody was inside. A man. He must have heard me, because he came outside, so I hid in the weeds on the riverbank.”

“What did this man look like?”

“I told you before—he was big, like a football player.”

“What did he do?”

“He looked around and then he went back inside. I was going to keep going, but that’s when I heard the other men. They were coming through the woods and whispering to each other. I thought they would see me, but they didn’t. There were four of them, the man with the red hair and the two policemen. And the old man. They went right up to the door of the little house, and they went inside. I heard a big fight, and then they dragged the other man out. That’s when everything happened. They tied him up and gagged him and then they—they started doing things to him.”

“Oh, Purdue.” She knew so much more now, and yet she also knew nothing at all. “You told me before that the men found you. They hurt you. How did you get away from them? How did you escape and find your way to me?”

The boy shook his head. “I don’t remember. Really, Lisa, I’m telling the truth. I don’t remember. It’s like one minute I was in the woods while they were killing that man, and then the next minute I was hiding in the truck. And then I was looking up and seeing you in the window of your house. In between, it’s all just fuzzy.”

“That’s okay. You’ve given me a lot, Purdue. This will help me solve the mystery. I just want you to remember one more thing for me.”

“What is it?”

She smiled at him. “Your name. What’s your name? I’d like to call you by your real name.”

The boy was quiet for a while. This was an easy one, compared to everything else he’d told her. She expected to see his face break into a broad grin, like a child reaching out his hand and seeing a butterfly land on it. But it never did. Instead, his head snapped sideways so that he didn’t have to look at her.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I don’t remember my name,” he insisted.

“That’s okay. Don’t worry. You’ll stay Purdue for a little while longer.”

Lisa squeezed his shoulder to make him feel better, so that he knew she didn’t blame him. And she didn’t. The trouble was, it was painfully obvious that he was lying to her. His shame was written all over his face. This was more than just keeping a secret. This was an out-and-out, pants-on-fire lie.

He did know his name, and he didn’t want to tell her what it was.

Why would he hide something like that?

24

Lisa showed Purdue the secret hiding place in the basement. It wasn’t much more than a crawl space, a gap above the foundation and underneath the floorboards where Madeleine had stored her handmade Christmas decorations. The boxes were still there, labeled in her mother’s spidery handwriting. Behind the boxes, there was just enough room to slither in and hide, which was what Lisa and Noah had done as kids.

“If you see anyone outside, you run downstairs and crawl in here,” she told him. “I’ll be back real soon.”

“Okay.”

She felt a twinge of concern at leaving him behind, but she knew he would be safer at home than with her. She grabbed her mother’s old winter coat from the hall closet, and she ventured out into a white world. The snow continued to fall, with the wind swirling it into a tornado. The blizzard was blinding, but that helped her stay concealed. If she couldn’t see ten feet in front of her, then neither could anyone else. Including the people who were looking for her.

The weather was keeping most of the town inside. She didn’t see anyone as she hurried into the wind toward the end of the street, where the Camaro was hidden in her neighbor’s yard. Before she took the car out, she wandered across the grass to the railroad tracks and stared as far as she could in both directions, which was like staring into a dense
fog. If she followed those tracks for several miles, she would pass east of the airport, which was where Purdue told her he’d gotten off the train.

Under her feet, she could still feel the vibration of the train that had passed a few minutes earlier. Like a restless teenager, she stood in the middle of the tracks and then walked south, all alone in the storm’s cocoon. She knew that one of the town’s many cemeteries was to her right, but she couldn’t see it. On the left were trees and open land, all invisible. It was easy to let her imagination run wild, and that was what it did.

She heard a voice in her head. Noah’s voice.

Lis, what happened? Tell me what’s wrong.

She almost turned around to see if he was behind her, but she knew he wasn’t. He was two hours away in Fargo, if Laurel had been telling her the truth. But it didn’t matter where he was. The only reason he was here in her head was because she’d spent the last two hours in the house where they’d grown up together. As far as she was concerned, she didn’t have a brother anymore.