Girl Squad

by Kim Hoover

  Rachel broke the silence. “You know what we have to do, don’t you?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “We have to get into that team meeting.”

  “We’re not getting into that meeting,” I said.

  “I don’t mean get in really. I mean listen in somehow. Sneaky like.”

  “Rachel’s right,” Jane said.

  “Are you two crazy? There’s no way. If we got caught, we would be expelled from school or worse.”

  “You just have to know how to play this,” Jane said.

  “Do tell.”

  “First of all, we can do it without getting caught. But even if we do get caught, we play up the mom/daughter thing. All we’re trying to do is reunite a mother and her daughter.”

  “Even if I agreed with you, I couldn’t let you two risk it. I’ll go. But I’m going alone.”

  “Look, Cal,” Rachel said, taking me by the shoulders. “You and I have been friends since birth. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to either one of us and we’re sticking together until the end.”

  The next morning we got up early and drove into Amarillo. Bev had said the meeting was going to be at the courthouse, so we stopped at a phone booth to look up the address. It was on East Fifth Street. It was Sunday, so the building was closed for regular business and the parking lot was wide open, except for a few Ranger patrol cars parked up near the front entrance. We pulled in slowly and parked in a corner away from the building. We didn’t see anyone.

  “Let’s go to the back of the building and see if there’s a way in,” I said.

  “Act normal,” Rachel said as we strolled slowly through the parking lot. “In case somebody drives by.”

  The streets were quiet like a ghost town. We got to the back of the building without crossing paths with another human being.

  “Let’s take a look over there,” Jane said, pointing to the large trash bins that hulked close to the edge of one corner of the building.

  When we got closer, we saw an oversized metal door, big enough to drive a truck through, propped open with a brick. We crept to it, peering into the four-inch opening to find a dark corridor. Jane tried opening the door, but needed our help because of the weight of it. Once we were inside, we stood still, waiting for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. A sliver of light shone from under a door at the far end of the corridor, just enough that we could see where to walk.

  We held our breath as we tried the door. It opened! We were in the basement of the courthouse with no idea where to go next. We found the elevators, but of course it was too risky to take them.

  “Over here,” I said, noticing a set of swinging doors that led to a stairway.

  The stairs were wide and made of marble. The same swinging doors guarded the main corridor of each floor as we progressed upward. It was eerily quiet on the first floor as we listened at the doors, and the same on the third floor. But when we reached the fourth, we heard voices and the sound of chairs pushing across the floor as people settled into what we knew had to be the meeting.

  The three of us exchanged glances, Rachel’s eyes wide with what I felt sure were second thoughts and Jane’s confident and encouraging. I lifted my finger to my lips and turned to push the door open just enough to see into the hallway. I caught a glimpse of someone pulling the doors shut on what must have been the meeting room. I turned to the other two.

  “That’s got to be it,” I said. “But I’m not sure how we’re going to hear what’s going on in there.”

  “Look,” Jane said, “the restroom is right next to it. Maybe there’s a vent or something we can listen through.”

  We pushed the stairway door open, took a quick look around, and dashed as quickly and quietly as we could straight to the restroom. Hoping we didn’t get surprised by anyone inside, we just stepped on in. We were lucky. It was all clear.

  “That’s what we’re looking for,” I said, pointing to a grate on the wall just below the crease of the ceiling.

  The sinks were on the same wall and above the sinks was a stone ledge that extended six or eight inches from the wall, enough for a purse or a makeup bag. A mirror covered most of the wall.

  “If I stand on the ledge, I can reach the grate, but you two will have to boost me up if I’m going to get inside. And then I have to hope I can hear them.”

  We stood on the sinks, and then I stepped onto the ledge. I was able to reach the grate and pull it down, revealing a generous passage into the ceiling. Jane and Rachel braced themselves against the wall and offered their gripped hands as a stirrup for each of my feet. I climbed in, we counted to three, and they boosted me up. I slipped at first, but grabbed a metal brace that I used to haul myself into the duct. I was in.

  I crawled along the dusty surface, listening as hard as I could. After a few feet, I saw another grate, and sure enough, it was on the wall of the meeting room. I could hear them loud and clear. And I could even see, though my view was limited by the hatched metal of the grate. A man in a dark suit stood at the end of a long table. The room was filled with men, maybe ten or twelve, and Officer Gillette.

  “Let’s get started,” said the standing man, introducing himself as Colonel Matt Jones. He pulled a screen down from the ceiling and turned the lights low. “Go ahead,” he indicated to one of the other men. A projector lit up the screen, showing photographs of several men. “This is the Brazos River Gang, the main members being from the same family,” he said. “They run various criminal enterprises in the Southwest and Mexico. Some weapons, some prostitution, some financial scams.”

  Brazos River Gang.

  “No drugs. They seem to have some scruples over that,” Colonel Jones said.

  “This first guy you see is Hank Hart,” said Bev. “The other three are his sons, Will, Warren, and Clay.”

  That’s him. I’ve seen that man with my mother.

  “Warren’s the smart one. Will is not the sharpest tool in the shed, and Clay is somewhat the reluctant partner, but he likes the money,” said Bev. “But all three boys have one thing in common. They’re ruthless and they don’t mind spilling blood if necessary.”

  I felt the blood drain from my head and thought I might faint. The projector flipped over to a slide showing oil derricks and tanker trucks.

  Colonel Jones continued, “We all know the price of gas has gone through the roof since the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries, they call it OPEC, started an oil embargo early this year. They’re not selling us the oil, which means we don’t have enough supply for our cars here in this country. Long lines at the pump. People fighting over gasoline and stealing it if they can. We think this gang is stealing gasoline and reselling it cheap for a huge profit to themselves.”

  “How do they get away with it?” asked someone in the room.

  “They have upstream and downstream partners. Everyone’s making so much money, they’re willing to protect the operation,” Bev said.

  “They’re tapping small enough amounts from any given source that it hasn’t been enough for anyone to notice,” said Colonel Jones. “We think they’re working with lower level employees at the oil refineries. Then they’re paying off minor players along the way.”

  “They appear to be masking a tanker as an RV,” said Bev. “They offload the payload to smaller trucks that disburse to various locations where they sell to retail outlets. All along the way participants take a cut.”

  I think that’s what’s going on in the canyon.

  Bev asked if the colonel thought they should give an update on what they knew about my mom.

  “Joyce Long,” he said. “She started seeing Hart about a year and a half ago.”

  What? I couldn’t believe it. My mother had been seeing someone behind my father’s back for that long?

  “This guy Hart always has a woman on the side. Joyce happens to be that one right now.”

  I dropped my head into my hands. This was too much.

  “She’s lasted longer than mo
st and we’re working on a theory that she may be causing some dissent among the troops. Some of the guys are starting to question Hart’s focus. They think maybe she’s become too important to him. They don’t like the idea of him being the least bit distracted.”

  “Are we concerned about her safety now?” one of the men asked.

  “She’s running with a dangerous gang. You can’t do that without putting yourself in danger. What we don’t know is whether Joyce has figured out what these guys are doing, soup to nuts. She’s a smart woman, so I think it’s likely she knows exactly what’s going on,” he said.

  My head was pounding, as much from the dust I was breathing as from the news I was hearing.

  “Where do we go from here?” asked another man in the room.

  “We believe there’s a drop coming in Palo Duro Canyon tomorrow night,” said the colonel. “We will be there in force. It’s our first clear chance to catch these guys in the act. Report to the staging area outside the canyon at fifteen hundred hours tomorrow.”

  I watched the meeting breaking up. Then, realizing we had to get out of the building immediately, I crawled backward as fast as I could manage and dropped down to the ledge. We didn’t have time to reset the grate over the hole, so we had to take our chances on that.

  “Come on,” I said, “we have only a few seconds before they’ll come pouring out of that room.”

  We streaked across the hallway and burst through the swinging doors. I heard their voices spilling into the corridor and knew we had just made it. But we still had to get out of the building and across the parking lot without anyone noticing. As we raced down the four floors to the basement, my heart was beating so hard I thought I might faint. We were calling it close.

  “Watch out,” Rachel hissed in a loud whisper, grabbing Jane and me just as we were about to head for the door to the outside.

  Someone, a man in overalls, had come inside and worked to open up the huge double doors we had come through. A huge trash truck backed slowly up to the building. We could see now that the enormous trash containers for the building lined the walls.

  “Now what?” Rachel whispered.

  “I guess we have to wait it out,” I said.

  “And hope we don’t get locked in here,” Jane said.

  We huddled in a corner for what seemed like forever but was probably twenty minutes, while the trash process finished. We held our breath as the man in overalls walked outside, shut the big double doors, and, unmistakably, locked them tight.

  “Oh, boy,” Rachel said.

  In total darkness, except for the sliver of light at the end of the corridor, we sat motionless, our hands intertwined, stunned.

  “We have to go out the front door,” Jane said finally.

  We kept our hands clasped as we made our way through the dark and back to the swinging doors. I poked my head inside to make sure the coast was clear. It was quiet on this level, but we would have to go up one floor to get to the front door. I looked at my watch. It had been about half an hour since the meeting ended.

  “Let’s see if we can find a window where we can look out at where their cars were parked,” I said. “See if they’re all gone.”

  Once we were on the first floor, which was all quiet, we found a window. We saw two officers standing next to a patrol car. We watched them until they got into the car and drove away.

  “I think that’s all of them,” Rachel said. “Should we run for it?”

  We pushed the door open, ran down the grand steps of the courthouse and into the parking lot. We jumped inside and Jane fired up the engine. She got us out of the lot as quickly and safely as possible, and as we motored down the highway back toward the canyon, we all sat silent, in shock over what we’d just pulled off.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rachel broke the silence. “I’m hoping that was all worth it. What did you find out?”

  I told them what I’d heard, ending with the part about the big bust they expected to make in the canyon the next night.

  “Wow,” Jane said. “Your mom might be there?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I don’t know. I’m so mixed up.”

  Rachel leaned over the seat from the back. “That lady cop told us to get out of here, but I think we should stay. I can talk my dad into letting me spend one more night at Jane’s. This could be our big break.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “Jane?”

  “I agree. I’m just thinking we need some equipment. We’ll need binoculars and a decent camera or two for taking pictures, documenting what we see.”

  “Of course!” I said. “There’s a place in Amarillo where we can get that stuff. But how would we pay for it?”

  Jane pulled off the road, preparing to turn back. “I have a credit card,” she said.

  I gave Jane directions on how to get to the camera and electronics shop I knew about because of Dad’s photography hobby. We bought the cameras and binoculars we needed, as well as a set of walkie-talkies.

  “I feel like Agent 99,” Rachel said, testing the walkie-talkies.

  It was already dark when we drove back into the canyon. When we got to the site, we left the equipment in the trunk of the car.

  “Are y’all as nervous as I am?” I asked as we set up for supper.

  “This is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole life,” Rachel said.

  “I have to admit, I never would have predicted this much excitement out here in the middle of nowhere,” Jane said, holding a hot dog over the fire.

  I picked up a handful of mini marshmallows and tossed them at Jane. “You thought we were just a bunch of hicks, didn’t ya!”

  “Well, uh, yeah, and you think that’s changed?”

  I jumped across the firepit and took Jane into a roll across the camp floor, pinning her to the ground on her back.

  “Panhandle hicks, huh? You might want to show some respect…”

  Jane pulled a move and got me on my back. “Let’s see who’s showing who what,” Jane said, her face close to mine.

  “Okay, ladies, I think this calls for an arm wrestling match. That’s the only way we’re gonna settle this,” said Rachel, trying to separate us.

  Jane let up on me and we set up the match with our arms on a rock, Rachel officiating. When Rachel gave the signal, I took an early lead, forcing Jane’s arm back twenty degrees. But Jane came back strong. We were at a straight-up impasse for several seconds until finally Jane relaxed just enough for me to finish her off.

  “God almighty,” Jane said. “You are stronger than you look.”

  “Those bad guys don’t know what they’re up against,” said Rachel, only half kidding.

  “Hey, Rachel,” Jane said, “do you mind holding down the fort while Cal and I take a walk?”

  “Sure,” Rachel said, crossing her arms. “No problem. That’s what I do. Hold down the fort. Yep.”

  “Don’t be like that,” I said.

  “I just want to stretch my legs a little,” Jane said, reaching her hand out to help me up.

  “I’ll be here,” Rachel said as Jane and I sauntered off.

  “Where to?” I asked as we headed out to the Park Road.

  “Let’s head toward the Trading Post,” Jane said. “Maybe I’ll buy you something.” She winked at me.

  It was a clear night, the stars sparkling in the sky like a sea of Christmas lights. We walked in silence for a while, the cool, dry night air chilling our faces.

  “Feels kinda like the calm before the storm,” I said.

  Jane nodded in agreement. “Eerie.”

  I stopped and turned to her, touching her arm for a second. “It means a lot to me that you’re here.”

  She smiled and the moon spotlighted her face in a way that gave me goose bumps.

  “Not just that you’re here now, but that you moved here.”

  “I get it,” Jane said. “Me too.”

  “So…” I said, kicking at the dirt, all of a sudden feeling shy.<
br />
  “Hey,” Jane said, catching my hand. “That woman. Bev. The cop.”

  “What about her?”

  “Did you think she was…a little friendly? To you, I mean?”

  “Uhh…hmm. Maybe? But why?”

  “I don’t know. She seemed nice, though. Pretty.”

  “Pretty? I guess so. I didn’t really notice.”

  “C’mon. I said I was going to buy you a present,” Jane said, pulling me toward the Trading Post. “Let’s see what they’ve got in there.”

  We browsed through the Texas tourist souvenirs, which included a little book called Texas Braggs, a collection of corny Texas sayings and jokes. Jane thought it was so funny that she bought a copy.

  “Texans,” she said, closing the book. “You’re all so proud.”

  “Didn’t you have fifth grade Texas history?”

  “I was in California for fifth grade.”

  “Well, if you had taken Texas history, you would know why we’re all so proud,” I said, laughing.

  “Look,” Jane said, pointing to an arrowhead decorated with fake red and purple jewels.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s really pretty,” I said as I turned it over in my hand.

  “Then that’s what I’m buying you,” she announced, taking it from my hand.

  When we settled down to sleep that night, I put the arrowhead under my pillow.

  The next morning we sat around our cold campfire to talk about our secret plan.

  “First off, we have to pull a fast one and pretend we broke camp and got out of here like Officer Gillette told us to. Otherwise, they’ll probably have the park rangers kick us out,” I said.

  “How are we gonna do that?” Rachel asked.

  “I have an idea,” I said. “But it’s tricky. And if we mess it up, this whole caper is done.”