The First Ladies Club Box Set

by J B Hawker

  …

  “Have you got any leads on that black van, officer?” Gideon asked with one arm around his still-trembling wife.

  He’d never known Hope to get so rattled. He hoped she hadn’t been injured.

  “We’ve got an all-points out on the license and description. Officers have been dispatched to the location where you say you hid that knapsack, ma’am,” the trooper replied.

  “And will they check the crypt for bodies?” she asked, shuddering.

  Seeing how upset she was, the trooper bit back a joke about crypts being the place for bodies and simply nodded.

  “Everything in your report will be checked out,” he said, then returned to his cruiser and drove away.

  “Are you going to be alright, hon? Maybe you should ride on the bus the rest of the way. I can get someone to bring me back for my car, you know,” Gideon said to Hope.

  “I’ll be fine. Honestly. I haven’t had much sleep in the past forty-eight hours, that’s all. I’m okay to drive home,” she reassured him.

  “I’ll ride with you to keep you awake, Hope,” Dawn said, coming up beside them as the other kids were finding their places on the bus for the ride home.

  “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary,” Hope said, and the girl’s face fell.

  “Hey, Dawn, come on!” Colton shouted. “I’ve saved you a place next to me.”

  Dawn’s face brightened and she ran to the bus, giving Hope a wave as she went.

  “See you back at the church!” she called, climbing into the van.

  “I feel like she’s been given a second chance this weekend. Despite everything, this has been really good for her,” Hope said.

  “One weekend away from that horror of a foster mother can’t do miracles, hon. I hope this weekend gave her a little happiness, but once back with Mrs. Jones, the misery will come crashing in again,” Gideon said.

  “Well, I’d better get these kids on the road. Drive safely and I’ll see you back at the church,” he added, climbing into the bus.

  “What sort of greeting will the parents have for me when we get back?” Hope asked herself.

  Gideon had called Cookie to ask her to notify the parents about the group’s early arrival, but he had only told her they were cutting the trip short because of the flash flood. The rest of the story could wait. It would probably come out in a dozen variations as the kids shared their exciting adventure with family and friends.

  Hope was relieved to see the bus pull onto the highway carrying the kids toward home, but she dreaded facing their parents.

  She didn’t understand how she could have made such bad choices all weekend long.

  Mentally ticking off her mistakes was humiliating. Not recognizing the possibility of flooding on the low-lying campsite, ignoring the approaching storm, not carrying her phone with her, taking shelter in a burial vault, of all places, and not getting out of there when she saw the body, were all bonehead mistakes.

  Her uncertainty about the men she’d seen only compounded the problem, but her worst decision of all was going off on her own, leaving the kids to make their own way to safety.

  As she drove, she imagined every horror that could have happened, and hot tears of shame trickled down her face.

  “I’m really losing it!” she muttered, wiping them away with an angry swipe of her hand.

  Hope hadn’t cried since joining the military. Already adept at keeping her feelings inside, Boot Camp had solidified her stoicism into a way of life.

  She’d signed up the day she turned eighteen. The welcome she’d received from the recruiter was the closest she’d ever come to a birthday party.

  Through several tours of duty, Hope had experienced unbelievable hardships and witnessed numberless tragedies without breaking down. Why now? Maybe it was because this was the first time that she was ashamed of her actions, rather than being proud of what she’d accomplished and endured.

  Whatever it was, she didn’t like it.

  “Get a grip!” she chastised herself, clutching the steering wheel firmly and straightening her shoulders as she followed the church bus back to town.

  She began to rehearse words of apology to her new church family, rejecting every self-justification as soon as it wormed its way into her mind.

  Her actions were inexcusable.

  She only hoped the congregation would be forgiving.

  …

  An impromptu welcoming committee of parents curious to learn the reason for the group’s early return waited at the church when Gideon arrived in the parking lot. Hope drove in behind the van, parking at a slight distance.

  As soon as Gideon opened the door, the young people jumped out, rushing to their families, eager to tell them all about the storm, getting lost, and their exciting trek across the wilderness.

  Hope sat in the car watching and trying to discern everyone’s reaction.

  Gideon joined the cluster of laughing children and their confused parents and attempted to explain what had happened during the camping trip.

  “It was like a tidal wave!” Jennifer cried, jumping up and down. “I got scared and ran away, but Mrs. Hopkins saved me!”

  “We got lost, but Mrs. Hopkins knew just what to do,” another child piped up.

  “She found us a little hut where we waited out the storm,” Aleeshia added.

  “It was dark and spooky, but I wasn’t afraid because I knew Mrs. Hopkins would take care of us,” Jennifer said.

  TyVon, Colton, and Dawn listened to the younger kids telling their stories. With a conspiratorial look, they silently agreed not to report any of the more dangerous aspects of the weekend. They’d all gotten home safe and that was all that mattered.

  Seeing the happy faces of the youngsters and their parents, Hope dared to leave the car and walked up to the edge of the crowd.

  “Wow, Hope! It sounds like you had your hands full this weekend. Quite a trial by fire for your first time,” Tyrone Mitchell said when she approached.

  “Thank you so much for taking such good care of our kids,” his wife added.

  Gideon smiled at Hope as the other parents joined in expressing their thanks and joking about the exciting adventure she’d been through.

  “But, I didn’t...” she began, flustered by the praise when she’d expected condemnation.

  “Now, don’t go all modest on us,” Orville Watts said. “You did a great job. And I, for one, am pleased to see there won’t be any of the old moldy camping equipment cluttering up my storage closet for another year. It was past time that stuff was replaced.”

  The cluster of tired young people and their happy parents disbursed, laughing.

  “I suppose we better get started on a fund-raising project for new camping things,” Cookie Dabis said. “Don’t worry, Hope. We’ve got a whole year to raise the money before your next camping trip.”

  Cookie turned and went back into the church, leaving Gideon and Hope standing alone.

  “Next year?” Hope said. “They won’t want me to lead the group next year, will they?”

  “Why not?” he asked, putting an arm around her shoulders and heading toward their car. “You were the hero of the weekend.”

  “Some hero,” she said, frowning.

  Gideon slid into the driver’s seat while Hope buckled her seatbelt.

  “Gid? What if the police don’t catch those guys?” she asked as they backed out of the parking space.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, they were pretty determined to get their drugs and money and they think I have them. They saw the church address on the van. What if they come here?”

  “I don’t think we’ve got anything to worry about. The cops have the license number on the van, thanks to Dawn’s quick thinking. They will catch them, sure enough. Besides, those guys won’t want to tangle with us again. Did you see how scared they were when they ran off?” he joked.

  Just then, Hope spotted Dawn walking alone on the sidewalk a few blocks from the ch
urch.

  “Stop, Gideon.”

  Gideon pulled the car up alongside Dawn and rolled down his window.

  “Hey, Dawn! Get in, we’ll take you home,” he said.

  She hesitated a moment, reluctant to have her new friends see what kind of welcome was awaiting her at her foster home, but eventually she got into the backseat.

  “I guess your foster mom didn’t get the message about the trip ending early,” Gideon said over his shoulder as he drove.

  “She wouldn’t have come to get me, anyway. Not her style,” Dawn said.

  Hope turned around in her seat to look at the girl.

  Although she was obviously weary and sad to be returning to her foster home, Hope detected a new light in Dawn’s eyes. Where once she’d wavered between anger and hopelessness, a spark of confidence flickered.

  Hope wished they didn’t have to return the girl to her appalling circumstances; however, she wasn’t sure what they could do, legally.

  “It will be good to get home for a shower and some clean clothes, at least,” Hope said.

  “I suppose,” Dawn replied, smiling weakly.

  She was silent for a few moments before saying, “I’m sort of worried about the babies.”

  “Your younger foster siblings, you mean?” Hope asked.

  “Yeah. I’m sort of responsible for taking care of them, and I... I just ran off and left them with HER. What if she’s stoned out of her mind and no one’s taking care of them? It will be all my fault.”

  “You are not responsible for the little ones, Dawn. Mrs. Jones is the foster parent,” Hope said, disgust for the feckless woman obvious in her tone. “But I’m sure she wouldn’t neglect her duties, even though she did put a lot of the burden on you when you were there.”

  “Maybe. We’ll see,” Dawn said. “We’re here.”

  Gideon parked in front of the shabby house which looked even more abandoned than before.

  “Would you like us to come in with you?” he asked.

  Dawn nodded, slowly unbuckling her seatbelt.

  It would be embarrassing, but she didn’t want to face whatever awaited her in there alone.

  …

  Beto clicked off his cell phone and adjusted the sling on his broken arm. He was sitting across the table from Dwayne in a seedy diner on the seamy side of Portland.

  He looked out the fly-specked window with revulsion at the old clunker they’d swapped for their shiny black van.

  They’d been told to get rid of their easily recognizable vehicle, even before getting help with his arm, despite his pain. With that detail taken care of, they’d called on their cartel’s local medical man who’d set his arm and given Beto pain meds.

  “What’d the boss say?” Dwayne asked, taking a gulp of coffee, his hands shaking.

  “Whatd’ya think he said?” Beto growled.

  The gangster’s face was drawn and pale, making the dark bruises along his jaw and around his eyes stand out.

  “Was he really mad?” Dwayne asked.

  “He wants his property, dipwad. All of it. Of course, he’s mad,” Beto replied. “This was a big deal and he’s got to answer to his bosses, too, see?”

  “But he doesn’t think it’s our fault, does he? I mean, we couldn’t help what happened, could we?”

  “Oh, yeah, he blames us, alright... no, he blames YOU, for hiring that fat idiot Biggie. He’s the one who dropped us into this mess and then just disappeared.”

  “That wasn’t my fault,” Dwayne whined. “He was the only one who I could get to sign on in that stupid place. There’s so many churches there, they’ve got too many of their kids brainwashed. Anyway, it was the boss’s idea to use the stupid cemetery as the drop site. Anyone could’ve found the stuff.”

  “But it wasn’t just anyone, was it? It was that witch from the stupid church.”

  “It should’ve been easy to get her to tell us what she did with the money and the drugs. How could we know that guy would show up playing the superhero, or that a screaming banshee would jump on you out of nowhere?” Dwayne said, trying not to look at the toothmarks in Beto’s torn ear or the wounds on his neck where Dawn had clawed him with her fingernails.

  Beto glowered and pushed a cold French fry around on his plate, making a pattern in the ketchup.

  “What’s he want us to do, now?” Dwayne asked, finally.

  “He wants us to finish what we started and wrap this mess up,” Beto replied.

  “How?”

  “The name of the church was on that van, right? So, we find the church. We find the woman and we get back the stuff she took. Any way we can.”

  …

  “The door’s locked,” Dawn said, rattling the knob and looking confused. “She hardly ever locks up.”

  “Is there a spare key?” Gideon asked.

  Standing on the cracked sidewalk beside Dawn, he looked around for a likely hiding place.

  “Yeah,” Dawn replied, walking over to a broken microwave lying on its side in the weeds. She opened the shattered door and felt around. Pulling out the key, she returned to the front steps and unlocked the door.

  When Dawn hesitated, Hope pushed the door open and walked in first.

  “Mrs. Jones!” she called out. “Is anyone home?”

  Gideon and Dawn followed her into the cold, dark house.

  Dawn ran up the stairs, her first thought for the little ones. She ran into their room and stepped back out.

  “They aren’t here!” she cried, standing on the top of the stairs. “Where can they be?”

  Gideon and Hope walked through all the rooms without finding anyone.

  The dried food and garbage in the kitchen looked like it had been there for a few days.

  “Their stuff is gone, too,” Dawn said, rejoining the others outside the house.

  “It looks like Mrs. Jones has moved out,” Gideon said, pulling out his phone. “Her closet was empty.”

  Dawn shivered and Hope put an arm around her.

  “Let’s wait in the car while Gideon tries to find out what’s happened,” she said.

  Dawn nodded and walked mutely to the car.

  What was going to happen to her, now, when even wretched Mrs. Jones had abandoned her?

  Hope watched Gideon make several phone calls while she and Dawn waited in the car.

  In the backseat, Dawn slumped against the door, peeling the chipped remains of black nail polish off her fingers. She seemed to have drawn in upon herself.

  When Gideon joined them in the car, she looked up with questions in her eyes.

  “Did you find out where they’ve gone?” Hope asked.

  “Yes and no,” he replied. “The little ones are safe. They’ve been taken by Social Services. Mrs. Jones seems to have disappeared, though.”

  “What happened?” Dawn asked, sitting up.

  “The Child Protective Services people received a tip-off that there was a problem here. When they showed up, it was obvious this was no longer a safe place for the kids, so they were removed. An investigation was begun into Mrs. Jones, but before anything was done, she took off. Do you have any idea where she might have gone, Dawn?” Gideon asked.

  “No, and I don’t care,” Dawn said. “Where are Toby and Becky and the baby? I need to see them! They’ll be so frightened,” she cried.

  “We’ll see what we can find out and try to arrange a visit, but the larger question now, is where are you going to live?” he replied.

  “She’ll come to stay with us, of course,” Hope said, reaching over the seat and squeezing Dawn’s hand.

  “That may not be possible, dear,” Gideon said. “It will be up to the authorities.”

  “The authorities can wait. Dawn, you collect your things. You’re coming home with us,” Hope said, getting out of the car.

  Dawn climbed out of the backseat and stood beside the car, overwhelmed.

  Giving the girl a slight push, Hope asked, “Do you need any help to pack?”

  Dawn looked at
their faces to be sure it was really okay, and then turned and ran into the house and pounded up the stairs.

  “I can get it. I don’t have much!” she called.

  “I already told CPS Dawn is with us,” Gideon told Hope. “They will probably send someone to pick her up, right away.”

  “Not if you call them back and say we are willing to keep her. They will be thrilled not to have to find another home for her. Not right away, anyway.”

  Gideon looked skeptical.

  “Just try. Please,” Hope begged.

  Dawn thudded down the stairs, jumping over the final two treads, with a mostly empty garbage bag in her hand.

  “I’m ready!” she said, heading out the door.

  “I hope we aren’t setting her up for another disappointment,” Gideon said. “The worker is going to call me back to let me know what they decide, but she wasn’t too encouraging.”

  Hope bit her lip, shook her head sadly and followed Dawn to the car.

  …

  Heavy drinking and other activities of the night before left Yvonne with a killer headache and a sour stomach as she drove to California and her new life. The hum of her tires as the miles rolled past made her drowsy.

  She no longer bothered to check the rearview mirrors for patrol cars. Her thoughts were focused on her new life ahead.

  A few miles north of the California border agricultural inspection station, Yvonne was jolted out of her reverie by the whoop of a siren behind her.

  She looked up to see the flashing lights of an Oregon State Trooper’s cruiser and instinctively stepped harder on the gas, before coming to her senses and pulling over.

  She hoped the cop was after someone else and would just go on by.

  Her heart sank when the cruiser pulled in behind her and the officer stepped out.

  It wasn’t fair! She’d almost made it.

  The trooper approached her window and motioned for Yvonne to lower it, which she did.

  Clinging to the hope that this stop was about a busted taillight or that she’d been speeding, she pasted a smile on her face, preparing to bluff her way through.

  “Can I see your license and registration, please, ma’am?” he asked.