by Kim Hoover
“Okay, that’s settled. Now, let’s have some fun.”
She pulled me off the chaise and shoved me into the deep end of the pool. We came to the surface at the same time and she pulled me to her. We floated on our backs, holding hands. When we got to the shallow end, she got behind me, wrapped her arms around me. I closed my eyes.
“What are you thinking?” she said.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“I’m too scared.”
She turned me around and examined my face, touching my lips with her finger.
“Don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t mean about my mom.”
“I know,” she said.
She put her arms around me and whispered into my ear, “You can trust me.”
We heard tires on gravel. It was Rachel. Her mom was dropping her off. My heart sank as Jane and I pushed away from each other, my hope for another kiss fading with the sound of Rachel’s voice hollering hello.
Chapter Eleven
After school the next day, Jane and I headed to my dad’s apartment. Rachel had a math tutor she couldn’t dodge. Jane parked her mother’s car at the edge of the parking lot. It was a two-story garden-style building with a pool in the center. I hadn’t been very social when visiting my dad there, so I didn’t think anyone really knew who I was, but I had disguised myself just to be on the safe side.
“You look ridiculous,” Jane said, laughing as I got out of the car wearing a jumpsuit, heels, a big floppy hat, and sunglasses. I didn’t look anything like myself.
“Don’t laugh! We have to be serious to pull this off.” I lifted my sunglasses and gave her a look.
His apartment was on the second floor. We walked upstairs and down the breezeway to his unit. I pulled a key box out from under the windowsill. The key was inside.
“Here we go,” I said.
“Let’s do it.”
It was a small apartment. Two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen.
“Where should we look? What are we looking for?” I said.
“Evidence,” Jane said. “Note, receipts, maps, recordings…”
“Recordings?”
“Maybe there’s an answering machine with messages. We don’t know what he’s been up to.”
“Oh, yeah. He has one of those because of his job at the plant. I’ll check his desk.”
“Okay, I’m going through the trash.”
A few minutes later, I found something in the bedroom. “Oh, man, I can’t believe this.”
Jane ran into the bedroom. “What?”
“This is what he stole from her dresser the other night.” I held up a fistful of letters. “Love letters.”
Jane started reading through the letters. “Wow,” she said. “I wonder who this guy is.”
I didn’t want to read them.
“What’s his name?”
“He signs the letters ‘Hank.’”
I leaned against the doorjamb, beginning to regret this whole thing.
“This is just the beginning,” Jane said. “Your dad only swiped these a few days ago. There’s got to be more.”
“The message machine is over here on the counter.”
We rewound it to the beginning. Most of the messages were routine, including my message about being at Jane’s, but we heard one that was different. It was from a woman named Marcie. The message was date-stamped from the night Dad had burst into Mom’s house.
“Tom,” the message said. “You won’t believe what I just heard about your ex. She’s playin’ with fire. Call me.”
I slid all the way to the floor, groaning.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, but whatever it is she’s talking about, is what we need to know.”
We headed back to Jane’s by way of my house.
“I don’t know why I keep thinking we’re going to pull up and she’s going to be there on the porch, mad as a hornet,” I said. I teared up just a little as we drove by my house.
“Hey, there!” Rachel called out from her stoop.
We stopped the car and rolled down the window.
“Can I come along with y’all?”
“Come on,” Jane said, unlocking the back door.
“There’s a car that’s been cruisin’ by every so often,” Rachel said.
“What kind of car?” I asked.
“A nice one, kinda long with a landau roof. It’s a dark green color. Maybe a Cadillac.”
“Who was driving?”
“I couldn’t see. The windows were tinted really dark.”
“How many time did you see it? All weekend?”
“Yeah,” Rachel said. “Once or twice a day.”
“What do you think that’s about?”
“Maybe they’re looking for you,” Rachel said.
“Who? That gives me the creeps,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Back at Jane’s we struggled about what to do next.
“Who is Marcie?” Jane asked.
“I’ve been wracking my brain. I think she’s this woman who’s been trying to date my dad.”
“I know her,” said Rachel. “She’s that short blonde who sits in the front row of the choir, right in the middle.”
“Any idea how to find her?” Jane asked.
“Church,” Rachel and I said at the same time.
“It’s choir practice tonight,” Rachel said. “Think she’d be there?”
“There’s a good chance,” I said. “Let’s check it out.”
We decided to wait in the church parking lot, hoping to spot Marcie. Rachel hopped out and snaked her way through the cars, keeping her head down, so she could watch everyone as they came out of the door.
It was dark when people started to emerge from the church to go home. A petite blonde crossed in front of us, and I grabbed Jane’s arm and whispered, “That’s her.”
Rachel jumped back in the car just as Marcie got into her Ford Mustang and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Don’t get too close,” I said.
“Don’t worry.”
“Hey, I think that’s the same car I saw pull into our driveway Friday night after you picked me up.”
We followed her, and before long, we realized we were headed into Dad’s apartment complex.
“This is interesting,” Jane said.
“Let’s park around the other side,” I said. “There’s a back staircase.”
I took them up the service stairs and to the back of his apartment. There was an unlocked storage closet on the back of his unit.
“We can hear what they’re saying,” I said, pointing to a dryer vent in the closet. “And you can see the kitchen through this crack.”
He invited her in and offered her iced tea. He poured them both a glass and they sat down on stools at the counter. She touched his arm gently.
“How’er you holdin’ up, honey?” she asked, a little too syrupy, I thought.
“I’m fine,” he said, waving off her concern.
“You look tired,” she said. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
“I can’t sleep. Cal doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. My wife is missing.”
“She’s not your wife, honey,” Marcie said. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
He grabbed an ashtray from the cabinet and pushed it in front of her.
“What did you find out when you went through her things?” Marcie asked, digging in her purse for her cigarettes and lighter.
“I could see she’s got something going on with him. He’s sweet talking her. But the other stuff—”
“Look, Tom. If what I heard is true, you need to give up on her. You don’t want to get anywhere near all that.”
He squirmed in his seat. “I’m telling you, I can talk sense into her. She’ll listen to me. Now, where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you find out?”
/> “The boys I know are in the dark. They don’t know where she disappeared to the other night,” she said, taking a gulp of the iced tea. “And Hank is playing dumb, like he can’t control her.”
“You told me you would help me get her back,” he said, more agitated. “I never would have spied on her that way if you hadn’t said it would help me understand what’s going on.”
“I know, honey. I know. But it’s looking like she gave everybody the slip.”
“What? You think she’s in on whatever this is?”
“It’s just…Tom…There’s more to this than we thought.”
“She was a bored housewife. She got tricked into an affair by the big man in town who could buy her things and take her places.”
I could see his lips were tight. I thought he might cry.
“Oh, I think there’s a lot more going on here than that, Tom.”
“What do you know about it?”
“Well,” Marcie said, taking a long drag on her cigarette. “I know she played you. And she’s playin’ you still.”
Dad stood up and punched the wall, knocking a hole into the drywall next to the kitchen cabinets. All three of us gasped. He looked over in our direction.
“Did you hear something?”
“Just you, acting like a heathen about that woman.”
“Look,” he said, “I know how you feel about Joyce. But I’m not ready to give up on her just yet. So I’m asking you one last time. How can I find out what’s happened to her?”
Marcie looked at the floor and shook her head.
“I can’t get a straight answer out of the boys. They’re nervous as hell. The only thing I’ve been able to pick up on, and it’s not much, is that there’s something about Palo Duro Canyon.”
Chapter Twelve
I was trembling as we drove back to Jane’s. “I’ve got to find her,” I said, staring straight ahead, my hands gripping the dashboard.
Rachel and Jane didn’t say anything the whole way back. It was as if they were stunned into a trance by what they’d heard. Once we got back to Jane’s, I did my best to focus on what to do next and not dwell on what might or might not have happened.
“This is a bigger deal than we thought, Jane. Are you okay with us using your room as our headquarters?”
“Of course,” Jane said as she led the way. “Let’s get started.”
It was Friday and the football team had a bye week, so we could get right to work. We organized Jane’s bedroom into our war room. We borrowed a flip chart from Jane’s dad’s office down the hall, along with a box of index cards, legal pads, and pencils. We found a map of the Texas panhandle and put that on the wall. The telephone sat in the middle of the table, looking like a hotline.
“What should we do now?” Rachel asked.
“We put one foot in front of the other until we figure something out,” I said. “We can’t forget what we heard in the shed. Take some notes.”
Rachel grabbed a legal pad and a pen. I paced around the room.
“Ready,” she said, crouched over the desk, ready to take dictation.
“My dad said something about this guy Hank being a big man around town. We need to find out who this guy is.”
“Who is Hank?” Rachel said as she wrote in bold letters on the legal pad.
“Your mom’s having an affair and then she disappears. Then the guy she’s having the affair with claims he doesn’t know where she is. It doesn’t add up. He’s lying,” Jane said.
“Hank is lying,” Rachel said, printing it on the page.
“I agree,” I said. “Either she went with him willingly or he kidnapped her. But he has to be involved.”
“We’re back to the first question,” Rachel said. “Who is Hank?”
Just then, Ted came into the room carrying a few letters.
“The mail from your house,” he said, tossing the letters and my keys onto the table, catching his breath from the bike ride over.
“Thanks for doing that, Ted. I just couldn’t go near there after I heard about that creepy car prowling around.”
“I gotta go,” he said. “Good luck, y’all.”
“Hey!” Rachel said. “Don’t forget what Marcie said at the end.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jane said, “something about a canyon.”
“Palo Duro Canyon,” Rachel said.
I got up and pointed to the map. “It’s here. It’s a state park. We used to go there for hiking and exploring, looking for arrowheads when we were kids. It’s about an hour and a half from here. But I don’t understand what it could have to do with anything.”
“Hey, y’all,” Rachel said, holding up one of the pieces of mail Ted had brought over from my house. “This looks like it might be something important.”
It was a flat, brown envelope addressed to me in a dark marker. Carrie Ann Long, with my address.
“Carrie Ann,” said Jane. “So that’s your name.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“Go on. Open it,” Jane said.
“There aren’t any stamps on it. Someone just put it in the box,” I said.
Inside was an 8.5x11 photograph. It must have been taken at dusk, so it was hard to make out everything in the picture. Jane brought a magnifying glass out of a drawer in the desk.
“Look,” she said, pointing to a posted sign that showed up in the background behind some rocks and bushes.
The sign read Hackberry Camp Area.
“Hackberry,” I said. “Is that the name of the camp we used to go to in Girl Scouts?”
“The one in Palo Duro Canyon!” Rachel said.
“What does this mean? Who would have sent it to you?”
“I have no idea. We need a map of the canyon. I want to see exactly where this camp is.”
“You know what? My dad has lots of maps in his desk,” Jane said. “I bet you anything he’s got state park maps in his office.”
All three of us went down the hall to Mr. Rawlings’ office. There were lots of maps hanging on the walls showing salt caverns and referencing petroleum reserves. I noticed a picture of Jane’s dad with President Nixon.
“Jane, your dad knows him?”
Jane looked at the picture. She turned up her nose at the thought. “Oh, that was when my dad was getting an award for something about oil and national security. It’s not like they’re friends or anything.”
“Forget about that, y’all. Here’s the maps of the canyon,” Rachel said, pulling some out of a drawer.
“Here’s Hackberry,” I said. “It looks like this site is the biggest one in the canyon.”
“I think we have to check it out, don’t you?” Jane asked.
“It’s the only clue we’ve got,” I said.
“Let’s go camping,” Rachel said. “We have camping equipment in our garage.”
“Okay, girls, it’s getting late, but we need to get going so we’ll have the whole weekend,” Jane said.
“Wow,” I said, looking at my watch. “I had no idea it was this late.”
“I’m going to my room to get my stuff.” Rachel smiled. “Hey, Jane, how do you like that. I’ve got my own room in your house!”
“I love it,” Jane said. “I always wanted a sister.”
After Rachel left the room, Jane pulled me over to the loveseat near the window where we sat side by side.
“I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now,” she said, playing with my hair.
“I feel numb,” I said. “Like I stumbled into someone else’s dream. Or nightmare…”
She put her arm around me and I rested my head on her shoulder.
“I wish I could stay here like this. Maybe forever,” I said.
“I wish we could, too, but we’ve got work to do.”
We rushed back to Caroline Street where Rachel rode up and down the block on her bike, scouting for any trouble, while Jane and I quickly got the tent and other camping gear out of the garage and into the car.
“What’s goi
ng on here?”
It was Rachel’s dad. We thought no one was home.
“Uh,” I said, “we…I mean…we thought…”
“Hey!” Rachel screeched into the garage on her bike. “Dad, remember when I told you about the origami butterflies and how they like certain kinds of bushes that are hard to find?”
“Yes, but I thought you were just spinning one of your yarns.”
“Well, we are going on a hunt for those bushes.”
Jane and I looked back and forth between Rachel and her dad.
“What kind of hunt?”
“We’re gonna camp out at Jane’s. You know, on their property. So we can scout out the landscape in search of the butterfly bush.”
Rachel’s dad scratched his head and looked at Rachel as if trying to decipher her for the millionth time. Then he looked at me and Jane.
“Everyone understand that I expect you to look out for each other?”
We all nodded and quickly jumped into the car and took off. Since we weren’t sure exactly what we were getting into, we shopped for enough food and water to last for several days.
“What if we end up missing school?” Rachel asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” I said. “Let’s not worry about it for now.”
“We should make it into the park just before the gate closes,” I said. “That’s eight o’clock.”
“I’ve been looking at the map and I think maybe we want to camp at the Sagebrush site,” Jane said. “It seems like the best location.”
“That’s here,” Rachel said. “Looks like it’s not far from Hackberry.”
Just after six p.m. we pulled out of town, headed toward Palo Duro Canyon. None of us said anything for a while, like we were caught up in our own thoughts.
“Do y’all want a Coke?” Rachel asked eventually, pulling one out of the cooler.
“No, thanks,” Jane said.
“I’d split one with you,” I said, looking over my shoulder into the backseat where Rachel was shoehorned in among all the gear and supplies.
“This could be a trap, you know,” Jane said, squinting into the sun as it dropped down over the plains ahead.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I said.
“I just got goose bumps,” Rachel said, shaking it off.