Those Girls (24 page)

“My friend is looking for a job. I heard there was a cattle ranch around here that hires kids.”

She nodded. “The Luxton Ranch, only big one in town.”

“Oh, okay.” Had I found them? “Do you know who she should talk to?”

“Brian or Gavin—they run the place.”

How could I find out if it was the same men? Maybe someone else owned it now. I tried to think what to ask next. Directions, I needed directions.

The phone was ringing.

“Enjoy your stay,” the woman said, and reached for it.

*   *   *

The motel room was okay, two double beds with matching blue floral covers, a tiny fridge, and a TV that looked almost as old as the one we had at home. Lacey dumped her packsack onto the bed closest to the bathroom.

“Mind if I take this one?”

“Sure.” I sat on the other bed, checked my phone. Mom had texted back, telling me to have fun and she missed me. Nothing about Crystal.

I wondered if I should leave Lacey in the room and go over to the pub. I pulled back the curtain, noticed a few trucks parked outside. What if those men were there? I couldn’t show the photo around—they might overhear me or recognize Crystal. I’d have to wait until morning when it wasn’t as busy.

We stayed up late watching TV. Lacey talked through most of the shows, not seeming to notice my lack of response. I got up a few times when I heard a vehicle in the parking lot, looking for Crystal’s car. My car was right in front of our room. I’d checked for more parking behind the building, but it just backed onto another road and I didn’t think Crystal would park on the street.

I felt restless, my fingers needed to do something. I started playing around on my laptop. Lacey asked what I was doing and I showed her how to mix a track. I told her she had good rhythm, though she actually kind of sucked. She seemed so proud that I started feeling really bad, like I’d lied to a little kid and told her there were presents under a tree when I knew there weren’t.

After she finally fell asleep I stayed up for another hour, thinking about Crystal, listening for cars in the parking lot. What had been her plan? If she was here to kill those guys, how would she get close to them? I checked my phone, looked up the local newspaper. I didn’t see any news stories about anyone being shot or any kind of violence recently. So where was she? I was scared that something might’ve happened to her already, that I was too late, but I reminded myself that Crystal was really smart and tough. I just had to find her.

The next day I’d talk to Owen from the pub and drive around town, looking for her car. Maybe I’d drive by that ranch—but I didn’t know how I could find out if she’d been there. It wasn’t like they’d tell me.

In the morning, I heard Lacey moving around in the room. I opened my eyes. She was pulling on her clothes, her back to me.

“What are you doing?” I said.

She spun around, whispered, “I’m just going to the office to grab us some coffee and muffins before they’re all gone.”

“Okay.” I shut my eyes, put the pillow over my head, and drifted back to sleep. A while later I woke up, stretched, and glanced over, expecting to see Lacey on the other bed. She wasn’t there. I looked at the clock. I’d fallen back to sleep for over an hour. Shit. I sat up.

“Lacey?” I called out. Maybe she was in the bathroom.

Silence.

I got up and pulled back the curtain, couldn’t see her anywhere in the parking lot. Weird. Maybe she’d gone over to the diner? No, she didn’t have any money. I showered, dressed, did my makeup and hair. Lacey still wasn’t back, but I was kind of relieved. She must’ve gotten a ride when she went for the muffins.

I grabbed my purse from the floor, looked for my phone on the night table. What the hell? I searched around on the floor, checked in the bathroom, panic beginning to take hold. Did Lacey take it? I went through my purse again—and realized my wallet was gone too. I sat on the edge of the bed, breathless and shaky like I’d just gotten off a roller coaster. She’d taken all my money and ID. Then, an even more horrible thought—my laptop. I looked in my packsack. Gone.

I sat on the floor with my back against the bed, my empty packsack in my hands, staring at it and trying to make my mind believe what I was seeing. I felt around inside the packsack again, hoping for a crazy moment that I was mistaken, that this hadn’t just happened. I remembered teaching Lacey how to use my software the night before. I’d told her how my mom had used her vacation pay for the laptop, then I’d saved up for the software. She’d told me I was so
lucky.

I tried to think how much it would cost to buy new stuff, thought about all my set lists and the beats I’d saved, all my music, all gone now. It would take me forever to replace everything—and Mom was going to kill me. I remembered how excited she’d been when we’d picked out the laptop, how she’d insisted it be brand-new even though I said used was fine—she wanted it to have a warranty.

I pressed my head between my knees, squeezed hard against my temples, and started to cry. Then I thought about how I’d bought Lacey dinner and got mad again. She said she wasn’t good at anything, but she was a good thief.

I grabbed my shorts from the day before, checked my pocket. I still had a couple twenties and thankfully my car keys. I went out to my car, searched in the glove compartment and the console, under the seats, and found a five-dollar bill and some change. At least I had a full tank of gas and some food. I was also glad I’d kept my switchblade under my pillow and not in my purse.

I thought over my options. I could call Mom and tell her what happened and she might be able to wire me some money, but she’d freak out and order me home. I walked over to the office. The same woman was behind the desk.

“Did you see my friend in here this morning?”

“That blond girl? She was hitchhiking up the road last I saw. Got picked up by a car.”

No doubt she was long gone by now. I thought about her using my laptop, reading all my e-mails, going through my documents. I’d been so stupid.

“Oh, that’s good. I wanted to make sure she got her ride.” I smiled. Thankfully there was still a muffin in the basket and a couple of apples. I grabbed one of each, still smiling at the lady. “Have a great day!”

Back in the room I emptied everything out of my packsack, stuffed it with a spare blanket and a pillow I found in the closet, then took it out to the car. I came back in and packed the rest of my stuff. She had my license plate number, but hopefully they wouldn’t notice the missing items right away, or care enough to make a police report. I also took one of the towels and put a do-not-disturb sign on the door.

I drove to the parking lot behind the pub and waited until eleven when I figured it would open. A waitress came out and threw a bag in the Dumpster. I pushed open the back door and walked through, blinking in the dark.

Country music was playing on the jukebox in the corner. The floor was wood, looked old, but it had been painted. Beer coasters were stapled all over the walls and the air smelled of stale booze and cigarettes. Two men at a corner table gave me curious looks. I averted my eyes, wishing I hadn’t worn a tank top.

A heavyset woman with short brown hair that had a purple streak in the front and a black T-shirt stretched across her breasts was pouring beer behind the counter. She glanced up at me. “There’s no way you’re of age.”

“I’m just looking for my aunt.” I held out the photo of Crystal. “She has brown hair now. Has she been in recently?”

The woman wiped her hands on a towel, took the photo. “I think she was here a couple nights this week.”

I felt a little leap in my stomach. Before I could ask anything else, Owen, the good-looking guy with the Harley, walked behind the bar. He narrowed his eyes when he noticed me. The bartender turned to him, showing him the photo.

“This woman was in here this week, right?”

He examined the photo, taking his time. I wondered if he might recognize Crystal from when he was a teenager—if he was the same guy who helped them—but I couldn’t read his expression.

“She have dark hair now?” he said.

“Yeah.”

He passed me back the photo. “Why are you looking for her?”

“She’s my aunt,” I said. “She’s fighting with my mom and took off. I’m trying to find her.”

“You go to the police?”

“No, it’s not like that. She just disappears sometimes—she likes to party.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal but inside I felt a nauseating rush of fear. What if he told the cops about my visit?

The bartender turned back. “I remember now. She was sitting in the corner with the boys from the ranch on Tuesday—beer and wing night.” She laughed.

“Boys from the ranch?”

“Gavin, and a couple of the hands from the cattle ranch. They might be back tonight if you want to talk to them.” She’d met Gavin, had even sat and talked with him. It couldn’t be the same guy. But maybe he didn’t recognize her now with dark hair?

“Did she leave with them?”

“Not sure. Gavin paid for her drinks, I remember that now.”

It didn’t sound like anyone had seen her since. Did she go home with him? Then I realized this woman might tell Gavin or somebody from the ranch that I was looking for Crystal. That might screw things up—for me and for her.

“She’s probably already back home,” I said with a nervous laugh. The woman went back to pouring beer, but she was giving me a strange look, like she didn’t believe my story. Owen, leaning on the bar, was also staring at me.

“If she comes in again,” I said, “can you tell her that her niece is looking for her?”

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“Skylar.”

“Good luck, Skylar,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, turning away.

I felt them watching me from behind the bar as I walked through the pub and back out into the sunlight.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I drove down to the grocery store and bought some bottles of water and a stale sandwich, ate some of my trail mix. I had to throw out my fruit, which had already turned bad in the hot car, making it smell like rotting sweet apples and bananas. I didn’t know what to do now. Where could Crystal be?

I drove around town, looking for her car—even checked at the motel outside town, just in case. I noticed another, more modern gas station with several pumps, and a strip mall with some big-name stores, but no sign of Crystal’s car. I showed her photo at the gas station but no one had seen her.

How could I find out if she’d gone home with that Gavin guy? I couldn’t just go to their ranch and ask. I still didn’t know if he and Brian were the same men who hurt my mom. She’d said the guys took them back to
their
ranch but maybe they had just worked there. I remembered Crystal telling me how they’d been kept in a warehouse. I’d never be able to find it myself.

I decided to give it another day, see if she came back to the motel. If she didn’t, maybe I’d call Mom or Dallas and tell them that Crystal was definitely here. They’d take me seriously then. But they’d probably also make me go home—and I’d be in big crap with my mom. I imagined the phone call, the anger and fear and disappointment in her voice, and felt a lurch in my stomach.

I spent the rest of the day parked on a street behind the pub where I could see the back entrance, dozing in the front seat and listening to the CD Crystal have given me. Early evening I did another loop past the motel, then parked behind the pub again. I was starting to give up hope. I hadn’t seen anyone who looked like Crystal, and I had no idea what Brian and Gavin looked like.

My bladder was almost bursting and I had to sneak out and pee behind my car, hiding in the shadows. I kept watch for another couple of hours. Crystal didn’t show, and I was getting sleepy. I ate my last granola bar, then pulled the blanket and pillow out from the back, reclining my seat so I was more comfortable but could still see the bar.

I heard a vehicle coming down the road, blasting hard-core heavy metal music. I tucked myself lower. It parked right behind me. I peeked over my shoulder, recognized the truck from the garage. Shit. Was it both boys? I didn’t know which of them owned the truck. They turned their lights off. Two truck doors opened. The radio was still playing but at lower volume.

“Get a case of Molson, okay?” I could see the dark-haired boy from the light in the cab of the truck. He’d been driving. Another boy I didn’t recognize got out of the truck and headed over to the pub.

The dark-haired boy leaned against his truck, looked down at something in his hands. I saw the glow of a cell phone. Someone else got out of the passenger side of the truck and walked around to stand by him. Blond hair in the streetlight. The boy from the garage. They were laughing and talking about some girls.

Motion in the parking lot, the other boy walking out with a case of beer. He stopped to talk to some people in a truck who’d just pulled in. He called out to the guys near me. They walked past my car. I scrunched lower, held my breath. They didn’t see me, but they might on their way back. I checked behind me. They’d parked close to my bumper and I didn’t have much space between me and the car in front. I heard their voices, still laughing in the parking lot.

Should I climb in the backseat? Too late. They were coming back now and would see the motion. I scrunched down, pulled the blanket over my head.

The voices were coming closer. Stopped near my car.

“Isn’t that the car that came into the garage?” How did they know that? I remembered the pink rabbit foot hanging off my mirror.

“Is someone sleeping in there?”

Rapping on the window. I didn’t know what to do. If I ignored them would they go away? They rapped again. “Hey, you okay in there?”

I pulled the blanket off, sat up, and rolled down the window. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“What are you doing in there?” the blond boy said. The new guy, who looked a little older with a goatee, was standing behind them.

“I was sleeping.”

“Where’s your friend?” the tall boy said. He had a beer in his hand.

“She wasn’t my friend,” I said. “And she’s gone.”

He was looking in the back of my car. I remembered that my clothes were all spread out.