“Tommy left Bakersfield years before he died.”

“Where did he go?”

“Montana first.”

“And after that?”

“Washington. Maybe Oregon. Nobody knew for sure.”

“Why was he running?”

Ray looked toward the door.

“His father.”

Caleb waited.

Ray’s voice softened.

“Tommy’s old man was hard.”

“Controlling.”

“Religious in the kind of way that made every joy feel like a sin.”

“He hated motorcycles. Hated garages. Hated the Road Saints.”

“He wanted Tommy back in Minnesota, running the family hardware store.”

“And Eleanor?” Megan asked.

Ray’s expression changed.

“Different.”

He stared at the floor.

“She loved that kid.”

“But she never stood up to her husband.”

“That was Tommy’s version, anyway.”

Megan crossed her arms.

“What happened before he left?”

Ray took a long breath.

“Tommy had a younger sister.”

Caleb watched him carefully.

“She died in a car accident.”

Silence filled the room.

“Tommy came home for the funeral. His father blamed him for not being there.”

“Tommy blamed himself too.”

“He started drinking harder.”

“One night, he got into a fight with his old man.”

“And then?”

“He left.”

“Never went back.”

Caleb leaned forward.

“But why would Eleanor think he’s alive?”

Ray shook his head.

“I don’t know that she does.”

Megan looked at Eleanor’s medical file.

“There’s no son listed anywhere.”

Ray stared at her.

“That’s impossible.”

“Medical records only contain what patients or families provide.”

“If Eleanor stopped talking about him decades ago, nobody at the care center may have ever known he existed.”

Caleb stood.

“We need to find out what she believes.”

Megan looked directly at him.

“She just spoke for the first time in years.”

“I know.”

“We can’t interrogate her.”

“I’m not asking to.”

Caleb glanced toward the hallway.

“I just want to sit beside her again.”

She Asked for a Motorcycle

Eleanor slept for almost three hours.

Caleb stayed.

The Road Saints had originally come to Rochester because one of their longtime members was undergoing cardiac surgery.

They had planned to visit for an hour.

By early afternoon, three men had canceled their motel reservations and booked rooms for the night.

Nobody asked Caleb why.

Some things did not need explaining.

At 2:46, Megan found him standing beside a vending machine with a cup of coffee in one hand.

“She’s awake.”

Caleb looked up.

“Can I see her?”

Megan smiled.

“She asked for you.”

Caleb froze.

“How?”

“She pointed at a picture of a motorcycle.”

For the first time that day, Caleb laughed.

“Good enough.”

Eleanor sat beside a window when he entered her room.

Her pink cardigan had been folded neatly over a chair.

Without it, she looked even smaller.

Caleb pulled a chair near the window.

Not too close.

“Hey, Eleanor.”

She watched him.

He waited.

For nearly a minute, neither of them spoke.

Then Caleb nodded toward the parking lot.

“You know, I parked my bike in the worst spot possible.”

Eleanor’s eyebrows moved slightly.

“That nurse out there is probably going to make me move it.”

A faint smile appeared.

Caleb leaned back.

“See? This is what happens when you get old. You start forgetting where you leave everything.”

Eleanor stared at him.

Then, very softly, she said, “You’re not old.”