Those Girls (23 page)

“Hey, can I get a ride?”

I didn’t really want company. I wanted to think, not have a conversation.

“Did you see those assholes?” she said. Before I could answer, she looked at the map in my hands. “Where you going?”

“Cash Creek.”

“I’m going to Revelstoke, but if you got me as far as Cash Creek I’d be really grateful.” She gave me a hopeful smile. “My name’s Lacey.”

“I’m not sure.…” I didn’t want to be a jerk, but still.

“I’m harmless, I swear. I just don’t want to end up in a ditch, you know?” She looked at the highway. “Those guys were creepy.”

I thought about what had happened to my mom and aunts. Imagined reading in the paper about some hitchhiker getting killed.

“Okay. But I have some stuff I have to do when I get to Cash Creek.”

“Don’t worry. Soon as we get there, I’ll split.”

*   *   *

While we drove, we talked. Turned out she was sixteen, but she looked older, with lots of makeup. She was from Hope, that first small town I’d driven through, and fighting with her parents because they didn’t like her boyfriend. She was running away to meet him in Revelstoke. I thought she was crazy to be hitchhiking but she said she did it all the time. She showed me a photo of her boyfriend, who was kind of cute, with brown eyes and really white teeth. She wanted to know why I was going to Cash Creek, and I just said I was meeting up with my aunt.

I turned up the radio when a good song came on and started tapping out the beat on my steering wheel, singing the melody.

“You have a good voice,” Lacey said.

“Thanks.”

“Are you a singer?”

“No, I’m a DJ.” I felt a thrill saying the words, a little lift at the bottom of my stomach. “I have a YouTube channel.”

“That’s so cool. I wish I could do something like that.”

“You like music?”

“Yeah, but I can’t sing, can’t play. I’m not really good at anything.” She shrugged. “My mom tells me all the time that I’m stupid.” She put on a harsh voice. “‘You’re going to end up living in a trailer park.’” She laughed, but it sounded bitter, and when she looked out the window her upper back quivered like she was fighting tears. I didn’t know what to say.

After a few minutes she turned back around, started singing aloud to the radio in a really goofy high-pitched voice. I started laughing.

“I told you I can’t sing!”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding.”

I joined in, making my voice go all squeaky, and it was kind of fun for a few minutes, until I remembered why we were on this trip. I stopped singing. Lacey glanced over, her voice drifting off. She stared back out the window.

We’d been driving for over two hours through mountains, lakes, rolling farmland, and alpine meadows when a sign with food and lodging symbols showed that we were almost at the exit for Cash Creek, which was good because we hadn’t passed a gas station for miles and I was almost on empty.

The town was small, the downtown core only a few streets. I’d only ever seen a few small towns on the way to Emily’s cabin, but those ones looked cute, like somewhere you’d want to stop and get ice cream or take photos. This one looked really rough. Most of the old buildings seemed run-down, and the park benches and metal garbage bins didn’t look like they’d been painted for years. Everything seemed faded, the paint on the stores, the pavement, the awnings.

“I better get some gas,” I said.

I noticed an older garage, remembered my mom’s words.
One of them worked at a garage.
What if he still worked there? Should I try to find another garage? I looked down at my dashboard. The light had been on for a long time.

When we pulled up by one of the pumps no one came out, and the office looked empty. Two big shop doors were open, though.

I got out of my car. Lacey also got out and leaned against the side of the car, fanning her face. I walked over to the shop, feeling the heat radiating off the pavement through my flip-flops. My hair felt heavy and hot on the back of my neck.

A tall boy with a red baseball cap was bent over talking to another boy who was halfway under a truck. Looked like an older Chevy, and painted a gunmetal-gray with a Budweiser sticker in the back window. The truck was on a jack and huge tires with a meaty tread were off and leaning against the wall. A radio on the bench was playing country music. I was relieved there didn’t seem to be anyone else working.

“Can we get some help?” I said.

The boy with the baseball cap spun around. The other boy pulled his head out from underneath the truck and stood up. His eyebrows rose when he noticed Lacey, who had come to stand beside me. He had blond hair cut short on the sides and back, with long bangs brushed forward into his face. Both boys were probably around our age and looked grubby, grease under their nails, sweat stains under the arms of their dirty T-shirts, ripped faded jeans hanging low off their hips.

“We need gas,” I said.

“Shit, sorry, didn’t hear you pulling up,” the tall boy with the red cap said, coming toward us while wiping his hands on a rag. Even taller than me, he had fair skin and dark curly hair winging out from underneath his baseball cap, lively eyes and a cheeky smile.

“You girls aren’t from around here,” he said.

“Just visiting,” I said. I wondered if I should show them the picture of Crystal and ask if she’d filled up on gas, but wasn’t sure yet how to explain why I was looking for her. I glanced over at Lacey. She’d said she was going to split as soon as we got to town, but she hadn’t made any moves to hit the road yet.

The blond boy followed us out, coming around to lean against the pump, smiling at Lacey. She smiled back.

“How much you want?” the dark-haired boy said as he unscrewed my gas cap.

“Fill her up, please.” I looked around, noticed a small peach-colored brick motel across the road. Someone had put hanging flower baskets at the front entrance and the sign promised free Wi-Fi and continental breakfast. Beside the garage there was a pub with a little awning over the front entrance. There were a couple of parking spots in front of the pub, but it looked like there might be a back parking lot on the road behind.

I remembered Crystal telling me how a biker dude and his son had helped them. I looked up, noticed an open window with curtains. Did he still live there? Would Crystal have spoken to him? I looked back at the motel, shielding my eyes from the sun as I checked the cars in the parking lot. I didn’t see Crystal’s, but the motel might have parking in the back.

“Is that the only motel in town?” I said.

“Yeah,” the blond-haired boy said. “We call it the Peach. There’s another one north of town, like back on the highway, but it’s a lot more expensive.”

“You looking for a place to stay?” the dark-haired boy said as I handed him the gas money.

“Maybe,” I said. “Not sure yet.”

Lacey gave me a curious look.

*   *   *

We got back in the car and the boys went into the gas station office. It looked like the dark-haired one was putting the money into the register. They both kept glancing at us through the dirty window. The blond boy smiled, said something to the other one.

Lacey was sniffing the air through her open window. “Oh, my God, that smells good. I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

I caught the scent of barbecued meat. “I saw you at McDonald’s.”

“I was just changing, didn’t have any money for food.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. She’d told me her dad was out of work. Things must be really bad. Mom always made sure we had a full fridge even when times were tough—and she still gave money to homeless people. I asked her why one day and she said, “You never really know someone’s story.”

I glanced up, noticed the diner beside the hotel. It looked cheap.

“I’ll buy you dinner, but then I have to get going, okay?” I wanted to start searching for Crystal, but I couldn’t leave her starving and I was hungry myself.

“Really? That’s so awesome. Thanks.”

We parked in front of the diner. Down the street a bit farther there were a few more stores, one looking like some sort of a hardware store, with a sign for the post office and another sign showing you could buy lottery tickets, ice, and bait. A few men out front stared at us as we got out of the car. I didn’t like the feeling in this town, the dust on the streets, the heat. Everything felt dirty and worn-out, and kind of creepy. I wondered if it was because I knew what had happened to my mom here, but it felt like more than that. Like this town had given up years ago.

The waitress in the diner was about my mom’s age, with long black hair and short bangs. She offered us coffee, menus, and a friendly smile. We both ordered the special, chicken potpie with salad.

“Now, can I get you girls anything else?”

“No, that’s good, thanks.”

We handed her back the menus. I was putting sugar in my coffee, and Lacey was staring out her window at the pub across the way.

“He’s hot.”

I followed her gaze to a man working on a motorbike in front of the pub. He had some tools out and his shirt off. He was kind of cute for an older guy, with shoulder-length blond hair parted in the middle and a close-cropped dirty-blond beard. He put his shirt back on and was walking into the pub when the waitress came back with water for us.

“Who is that guy?” I said.

She looked out the window. “Owen? He runs the pub.”

Crystal had said that the biker guy’s son had driven them to the bus station. Was it the same guy? Did his dad still own the pub? I decided I had to talk to him. If Crystal was here, the pub was probably the first place she went.

Lacey was watching me. I turned back to face her.

“What?”

“Where are you supposed to meet your aunt?”

“Not sure yet, I have to give her a call later.” I took a sip of my coffee. It was awful, grounds floating on the top, but I kind of liked the burnt taste.

“Does she live here?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it. We’re having some family problems.” I knew I sounded nervous, but what was I supposed to say?

“I get it, sorry.”

I texted Mom again, told her I was fine and wouldn’t be able to check in for a couple of days. I’d disabled the location services on my cell phone before I left Vancouver and hoped she hadn’t noticed yet.

The waitress brought our food. “Here you go, girls.”

Lacey leaned over her plate, scooping up a huge mouthful of potpie and shoving it into her mouth. Still chewing, she stabbed her salad and brought another forkful into her mouth. I was still unrolling the cutlery from my paper napkin.

“God, this is so good,” she said.

I watched, disgusted at first—the chicken potpie looked watery, and the salad was wilted and drenched with dressing. Then I noticed the skin stretching over her collarbone, her skinny wrists and bony forearms, her pink plastic watch.

“Yeah, it’s really good,” I said, digging in and taking a big mouthful.

When we were done the waitress brought our bill. I threw some money down on the table.

“Well, good luck out there.” I got up and lifted my packsack onto my shoulder—I hadn’t wanted to leave my laptop in the car.

“Wait,” Lacey said. “It’s almost five. If try to hitchhike now I might not get a ride tonight. I didn’t know how small this town was—I could be stuck on the highway at dark.”

I frowned, worrying. Crystal needed me. I couldn’t get sidetracked.

Lacey stood up, grabbed her purse. “You told the guys at the station that you might be getting a motel room. Can I crash? Just for the night? In the morning I’ll go over to the truck stop and I’ll get a ride no problem. I’ll even call my boyfriend and he can wire you some money for, like, the food and motel.”

She did have a point about getting stuck on the road. I’d only seen two cars drive down the main street the whole time we’d been there. How far would she have to walk? I glanced down and noticed her sandals, the Band-Aid between her toes.

“Okay, but just for the night.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

We got back into the car, heat enveloping us in a thick blanket, making me instantly miss the air-conditioned diner. The waitress had told us that the Sunshine Valley reached the highest temperatures in all of BC and I could believe it—the steering wheel was almost too hot to touch. We rolled down the windows and drove around the building, parked in front of the motel.

“Wait here, okay? I’ll be right back,” I said.

“Okay.”

The woman behind the counter put down the book she was reading and looked up at me over her glasses.

“Can I help you?”

“Is a woman named Crystal Caldwell staying here?”

“Don’t think so.…” She scanned her registration book. “Nope.”

“Anyone who looks like this woman?” I passed her my photo of Crystal.

She held it away from her face, squinting. “Looks like the lady who’s staying in forty-eight—she rented it for a week. But she’s got brown hair.”

So Crystal
had
come here—she must’ve dyed her hair. I felt the thrill of victory—I’d found her. Then a flash of fear. Where was she?

The woman gave me the photo and a suspicious look.

“Who is she?”

“My aunt.” I had my story ready. “She and my mom had a big fight and she took off. It was awful. I’m trying to find her, hoping to smooth things over, you know.”

The woman nodded. “My sister and I are always fighting.”

“When did you last see her?”

“Not for a couple of days.” She shrugged. “But I don’t keep track of everyone’s coming and going. She didn’t want housekeeping for the week.”

“When did she check in?”

“Monday, I think.” So she must’ve left Vancouver Monday morning.

“Any chance I could go into her room to leave her a note?”

“Sorry, honey. But I can tell her you’re looking for her.”

“Well, could I please rent a room close to hers?”

“You got a credit card?”

“No.”

“Cash up front, then. How many nights you staying?”

“Just one for now.”

“Sixty dollars plus tax.” The woman handed me a form and I wrote down my name and license plate number. I gave her the form back along with cash for the room. I wanted to ask about the ranch, but I couldn’t think of a natural way. Then I got an idea.