“You mind?” I said, and he gave me a curious look.
“What’s your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem. Why don’t you just leave me alone?”
“Sorry,” the tall boy said. “It’s just the cops patrol around here at night. You might want to find another place to hang out.”
The last thing I wanted was a cop asking any questions—I didn’t even have any ID on me, thanks to Lacey.
The tall boy cracked his beer and took a sip. He gave me another look. “You need money?”
I stiffened. Why would he ask me something like that? “I’m okay.”
“You’re sleeping in your car,” he said.
“Maybe I like camping.”
He laughed. “My name’s Riley.” He pointed to his friends. “This is Noah and Jason.”
“Hi,” I said.
“You got a name?” Riley said.
“Skylar.”
“Well, Skylar, my dad owns a big cattle ranch. He might be able to find you some work for cash.”
No way. It had to be the same one. “What’s the name of the ranch?”
“Luxton Cattle Ranch.” He said it with pride.
I stared at Riley, trying to think whether I should ask how long they had owned the ranch. I opened my mouth but something held me back. I had this strange feeling, like I knew him from somewhere, or he reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t think of who or how. I just felt really uncomfortable.
He was giving me a weird look, waiting for me to say something.
“What’s up?” he said.
“I should get going.” I fumbled for my keys in the ignition.
“Okay,” he said, leaning down and talking into my open window. “But if you want some work, just follow the main road past town and make a left after the bridge onto River Bottom Road. You’ll see the driveway on the left—go up to the main house, my uncle lives in the lower one. Brian’s my dad’s name.”
“Thanks for the tip.” I felt a rush of relief when he stood back up. “You’ve blocked me in.”
“We’ll move. You going to be okay tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I forced a smile. He smiled back. They all got in the truck. I watched in my rearview mirror as they drove off.
* * *
I parked behind an old school, rolled up my windows, locked the doors. I turned my stereo on, played the CD Crystal had given me. But it didn’t work. No matter how I tried to get lost in the beat, I kept seeing Riley’s face. He’d been nice, so why was I nervous around him? This town was making me paranoid. I turned off the stereo, ripped out the CD, and tossed it onto the floor. I made up my bed in the back and closed my eyes.
I woke with the sun streaming through my back window, the air warm and stuffy. I stretched my cramped body, felt something bad tugging at my insides. Then I remembered. Crystal was still missing. I sat up, looked around. The car, which had felt safe the night before, now seemed too small, smothering.
I changed quickly, sat on my bumper, drinking my water and thinking about what I should do. If I got a job on the ranch, I might be able to find some sign that Crystal had been there, or that they were hiding something like her car. Then I could call the police. I might even find her
.
But I was terrified. If they were the same men who had hurt my mom and my aunts, they might hurt me too, especially if they caught me snooping around. I remembered everything Crystal had told me, remembered the fear in her face, the dead look in her eyes.
I had to make sure they thought I had lots of family, people who cared about me, knew where I was—and I’d make sure I was never alone with either of them. I’d carry my knife at all times. I reached behind me into the hatchback, found the knife, and held it in my lap, fiddling with the switch.
I thought about talking to them, how it was going to feel, wondered if I’d be able to go through with it. What if I freaked out or had a panic attack or something? My hand was already sweaty on the blade, my pulse racing. I closed my eyes and focused on Crystal—how much I missed her, how I was the only one who could find her. I let my breath out and put the knife back under my seat, tried to tuck my fear down with it, but it was still clawing at my insides.
I went to the gas station on the highway, took a sponge bath in the sink, braided my hair, and brushed my teeth. Then I pulled on my cargo shorts, which were a little longer than my other shorts, and a white T-shirt—it was fitted but I figured it was better than a tank top. I wasn’t sure what footwear I’d need for working on a ranch, but I slid my feet into my favorite leather flip-flops with the daisy between the toes. My runners were in the car if I needed them.
I found the ranch, which was a long way out of town, on River Bottom Road. My stomach was in knots when I finally saw their sign. The fence up the driveway looked like it had been white at one time but it was dirty and peeling now, the driveway hard-packed dirt that kicked up dust behind me. I passed a second driveway that probably led to Gavin’s house. I followed the signs to the office, pasture on either side of me with horses grazing in the fields.
I parked in front of a big blue building beside the house that looked like a utility trailer, the kind you see on construction sites. I couldn’t make myself get out just yet, felt like an icy cold hand was holding me down, pinning my legs. I looked around, still trying to gather courage. One side had a small door with a sign for the office. Across the driveway there was a white house with a veranda that wrapped around the front. A few big maples shaded the corner. Someone had put hanging baskets on the front, and a few old tractor tires had some flowers in them on the walkway, but the house looked run-down.
If I sat there much longer, someone was going to wonder what was wrong with me. I wiped my sweaty hands on my shorts, opened my door, and forced my legs to walk forward. I peeked in the window to the side of the office door, noticed a man sitting behind a desk, his head down as he looked at some paperwork. Was it Brian? All my nerves were jangling inside me, making my mouth go dry. I took a deep breath, then knocked.
“Come in,” the man said.
The office was small, with a desk, a couple of chairs, a concrete floor. A coffeemaker perched on a small shelf, almost hanging over the edge, and a mini-fridge hummed in the corner. It was cool in the room, a welcome relief from the wave of heat that had hit me when I stepped out of my car. The man sitting at the desk looked surprised to see me and kind of confused.
“Can I help you?”
He looked a lot like Riley, though his curly dark hair was shorter and had some silver in it. But his mouth and his eyes were the same, and I had that weird familiar feeling again, like I’d met him before. Had I? Then I got it.
He had my eyes, the same dark, almost black eyes that looked back at me every time I looked in the mirror.
No.
I stared at him, taking in all the pieces, moving them around. They slid into place, a tight fit.
He sat there, leaning back, so casual. His right hand rested on top of his desk, fingers tapping impatiently. His pinkie was curved.
There wasn’t a Billy, not a summer fling with a blond-haired boy who liked skateboards and reading. None of that had happened. There was this. My father.
“You all right?” he said, frowning.
“I…” I needed to think. Needed to be alone and cry. Needed to get the hell out of there, but I couldn’t walk out now. “It’s the heat. I’m not used to it.”
He nodded. “It’s a hot one today.”
I had to say something else, had to remember why I was there.
“Your son, Riley, said you might have some work for me.” How could I still be talking, sounding so normal?
The phone rang on the desk. “Excuse me for a sec.” He picked it up, said, “This is Brian.” He arranged to trailer a horse for someone, then hung up.
“You from Cash Creek?” His eyes were narrowed, like he was trying to figure out if he’d seen me before. I had the panicky thought that he might recognize me, but told myself there was no way he’d put that together just by looking at me. I curled my hands in my pocket, pushed them in deeper.
I decided to be honest, in case he asked something I couldn’t explain. “I’m from Vancouver.”
“You eighteen?”
“Yeah. Riley said you can pay me in cash.”
“You run into trouble?” He was playing with a pen on his desk, clicking and unclicking it, the sound seeming to echo in the little room.
“Sort of. I got robbed.” I remembered my plan of not making myself sound too vulnerable. “I just need a couple days’ work so I can meet up with my boyfriend.” I thought of Lacey’s story. “He’s waiting for me in Revelstoke.”
He stood up and I realized how tall he was, definitely over six feet. He wasn’t overweight but his arms in his T-shirt were heavily muscled like someone who’d worked hard all day for years. I tried not to think about him grabbing my mom and my aunts, throwing them down.… He came around and sat on the edge of the desk, gave me another measuring look. I wanted to step back, put space between us, but I didn’t want him to know how scared I was.
“You ever work on a ranch before?”
“No, but I used to work at a gym. So I’m really strong.”
“Well, if you want to give it a try, talk to my ranch hand, Theo—he’s in the barn. Just walk down behind the house. He might have something for you.”
“Great, thanks.”
He gave me a friendly smile. “You have a good day, now.”
* * *
I looked at my car as I walked by. I could just get in and drive home, pretend it had never happened. Nothing had changed. Mom and Dallas would make a police report about Crystal. They’d find her. Then I saw the flash of sun reflecting off the CD I’d tossed onto the car floor. Crystal needed me.
Theo, an older man in his fifties or so, with gray hair, laughed at my sandals, then found some gumboots in the barn for me. I tried to smile back, worried that he’d be able to see my heart thumping right through my chest, that he’d sense something was wrong. I was having a hard time following his instructions, my thoughts pulling all over the place. I watched his mouth move.
I’d never cleaned out a barn before, never pushed a wheelbarrow, and I learned fast not to load it up too much. I got used to the manure smell. It was hard work—my hand broke out in blisters, my back and arm muscles ached. My bare feet in my boots were sweaty and the heels rubbed with every step.
I kept getting flashes of Brian’s face, his voice, his curved finger and dirty hands. I felt like part of me was cleaning the stalls and the other part was standing outside watching, surprised that my muscles were still working. I couldn’t believe I was in that town, on that ranch, cleaning a barn while the man who raped my mother was a few hundred feet away. Sometimes I felt dizzy from the thoughts and had to stop and lean against the railing.
I wanted to call my mom, wanted to tell her what I knew and ask her all the questions piling up in my mind.
Why did you lie? Who am I?
But I couldn’t, not yet. I didn’t want to say the words out loud, didn’t want to make it real. I’d never felt anything like this, betrayed, angry, scared, ashamed, and terrified. These were the men who’d hurt my mom and my aunts, who’d kept them trapped for
days
.
I’d tried to look around the barn, but Theo kept coming in to check on me. There seemed to be a couple of barns and some outbuildings. I didn’t know how I’d be able to search them. I hadn’t seen Gavin yet and didn’t know if he was working somewhere on the ranch that day.
Riley came by, leaned his arms on top of the stall door, and looked over at me.
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I arranged my hands on the shovel so he couldn’t see my fingers.
I kept working but snuck another look at his face. We had different noses but we were both fair-skinned, and our mouths were exactly the same, his lips maybe a little thinner. It was like looking in a distorted mirror where everything that was familiar now seemed twisted. I’d wondered if my real father had other children, had thought about sitting up late with big cups of tea, getting to know each other, marveling at all the things in common, laughing at the same jokes.
I didn’t want to know Riley. I wanted to walk away, never see him again.
“If you need to go to the bathroom, there’s one in my dad’s office. Or you can just go behind the barn.” He laughed. “That’s what we all do.”
“Okay.” There was no way I was going near his dad’s office again—it was easier to think of him as Riley’s father. Not mine. He’d never be mine. I kept shoveling, but Riley didn’t leave.
“Sorry if we freaked you out last night,” he said.
“It’s all right.”
“We’re going to a party later if you want to hang out.”
I stopped. “Listen, I have a boyfriend—”
“I’m not
hitting
on you. I have a girlfriend.”
“Lucky her.” I started shoveling again.
He laughed, then glanced around like he was making sure no one was listening. “We’ve got a keg, and Noah’s parents are away.” He dropped his voice. “Don’t say anything to my dad—he’ll kick my ass.”
He seemed sort of embarrassed, his face flushed. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to be mean, wanted to tell him I didn’t give a crap about his dad, but I couldn’t afford to piss Riley off, didn’t want him to know anything was going on. And the truth was, none of this was his fault.
“Your dad gives you a hard time?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” He shrugged. “Parents, what can you do? You just live with it until you can get the hell out. You’re lucky you can just do whatever you want now, and go wherever. One more year and I’m gone.”
So he was probably seventeen, the same age as me, and I remembered that he thought I was eighteen. I wondered when he was born, how close in age we really were, how his dad had met his mom. Who would want to get involved with a guy like Brian? Didn’t anyone know how dangerous he and Gavin were?
“You don’t have to stay working on the ranch?”
“He wants me to, but I’ve got other plans.” He had his chin held up high, his face kind of angry, but I could tell he was trying to act tough. “So you feel like coming out and meeting some friends or what?”
“Thanks, maybe another time. I’m pretty tired. City girl, you know.”