Girl Squad

by Kim Hoover

  “Yes, that’s true. Technically. But something more important has come up and we need your help.”

  “Do tell,” Grandma said. “I’m more than a little curious about what y’all have been up to. But before we get to that, I’m calling your dad, young lady, and letting him know I’m sending you straight home first thing in the morning.”

  “No, Grandma, listen to me first.” I almost cried.

  “No, ma’am. Wait right there until I finish this call.”

  Grandma went into her study where she kept her telephone. She was gone longer than I thought it should have taken to have that conversation.

  “Well, girls, there’s been a change of plan.”

  I couldn’t imagine what this was about. “What is it?”

  “A freak tornado hit Dumas this morning. I haven’t had the TV or radio on all day, so I had no idea. It hit your high school hard. There won’t be any school for at least a week.”

  “Oh my god,” the three of us said, almost in unison.

  “I told your dad I would keep you here until things get sorted out. He’s going to let your folks know. So, I guess we’re on a slumber party for now.”

  Over dinner, we told our Palo Duro Canyon stories and filled her in about the Brazos River Gang, the Texas Rangers, and what little we knew about Mom.

  “I have to say,” Grandma said, “sounds like my daughter has got herself up a tree.”

  “Grandma, can you go to town tomorrow and get this film developed? We hope there’s something we can use.”

  “I know a place. They can get it done in a few hours.”

  “Can we just watch some TV tonight?” Rachel asked. “I need a break. My head hurts from all this stuff.”

  “Best idea ever,” Jane said.

  We sat in our pajamas in front of the TV for a couple of hours that night watching I Dream of Jeannie and Bewitched, and of course some Perry Mason, before we said our goodnights. Jane and I went up to the loft bedroom at the top of a narrow set of wooden stairs. There was one narrow, double bed.

  “You better stay on your side,” Jane said as she pushed me over toward the wall.

  “Don’t worry about that,” I said. “Just don’t steal the covers.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  We played poker and hearts and authors while we waited for Grandma to get back with the developed photos. As soon as she walked through the door, we grabbed the package and laid them out on the kitchen table. A lot of them were blurry or too dark to make out the images, but one caught my eye.

  “Is there a magnifying glass?”

  “Here you go,” Grandma said, taking one out of the kitchen drawer.

  I held the magnifying glass up to the photo, looking at it carefully. At first, I thought I was seeing things. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t help it. I buried my head between my knees and let out an ugly scream.

  “What is it?”

  Rachel grabbed the glass and looked for herself.

  “Oh my God, it’s Joyce!” she said. “She was driving that RV!”

  “No!” Grandma cried.

  I felt like someone had punched me. Jane looked at the photo like she didn’t believe it.

  “It doesn’t mean she’s working with them voluntarily,” Jane said, kneeling next to me. “Don’t jump to any conclusions. This is just one piece of information.”

  “What now, then?” I asked. We sat there, stunned and quiet for several seconds, until I couldn’t stand it any longer. “I need to get out of here for a while. Clear my head.”

  “Do you mind if I come?” Jane asked. “You can show me around. Take your mind off this for a while.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’d love to.”

  Rachel looked at me and I knew what she was thinking. She had figured out that I had a crush on Jane. I had been waiting for her to confront me, but she was holding back for some reason. Sooner or later, though, she would do a Come to Jesus with me. I knew it.

  I looked away and walked out the side screen door. Jane followed. We walked past the barn and across a pasture. The grass was spotty and the rocky terrain made for slow going. They’d had a drought here for most of the year. Tumbleweeds blew by, piling up against fences of scrawny mesquite trees. I loved this place. The simplicity of it was its own form of beauty. I always felt calm here, peaceful and protected. We walked for a long time without saying anything. We got to the creek. A thin stream of water barely covered the rocks across the bottom. They were slick, polished by decades of exposure. Jane slipped on one and stumbled toward the opposite bank, but I caught her arm and kept her from hitting the ground.

  “Good catch,” she said, breaking the silence.

  “You think you know someone,” I said, “and then they do something completely out of nowhere and you realize you don’t know them at all.”

  Jane nodded and a nearby cow surprised us with a long, low moo, as if agreeing with me. We both laughed.

  “No matter what,” Jane said, “she’s your mother.”

  We walked across the dusty landscape as the wind picked up and blew red dirt into our faces.

  “The tank’s over here,” I said, pointing to the north. “We can wash off.”

  We approached a small body of water, a pond in the ground.

  “Why do they call it a tank?” Jane asked.

  “Because it’s man-made. They usually block off a stream so the water pools. They make it so it traps rainwater too.”

  We knelt and splashed water on our faces and necks. I took off my overshirt and handed it to Jane while my camisole clung to my skin.

  “Sorry there’s no towels. Just use this,” I said.

  I felt Jane’s eyes lingering on my bare shoulders as she used the shirt to dry her face and neck.

  “Here,” she said, holding the shirt out so I could put my arms through the sleeves. I let her put the shirt back on me. Then she slowly buttoned the shirt from behind, her arms around me. She pulled my hair to one side and breathed deeply at the nape of my neck. I tingled everywhere. I leaned back against her as she buttoned the last button. She hugged me tightly and then let me go.

  “Thank you,” I said, turning to look at her.

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “I guess we should get back,” I said, but I didn’t move. I wanted her to say no. I wanted more of whatever just happened. I wanted it, but I couldn’t ask for it.

  “It’s dinnertime,” she said.

  “Right.”

  The four of us were quiet around the dinner table, trying to make sense of the bizarre facts we had uncovered. I could tell Grandma was thinking differently about Mom, as was I. We both had trouble putting words to it, but it was like she was no longer her daughter or my mother. She was some stranger in trouble.

  “Hey,” I said, shaking myself out of a trance. “What if we got in touch with Officer Gillette?”

  “That’s an idea,” Rachel said.

  “She said we should call if we hear anything or see anything. Do you think she would be mad about what we did in the canyon?”

  “Who is this you’re talking about?” Grandma asked.

  “She’s a Texas Ranger. She’s the one who told us about the meeting in Amarillo,” I said.

  “I don’t know,” Jane said. “What if she decides to arrest us? I think we should test her first.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Well,” Jane said, “Mrs. Norman, you could call her and say you have some information about Hank Hart, but you want to meet her—only her. Then you ask her to come to a certain place in Sweetwater.”

  “Okay,” I said, “but Grandma, you have to use a fake name. Otherwise, she might figure out that we’re here and they’ll come for us.”

  “You think this’ll work?” Grandma asked.

  “Well,” Jane said, “if she comes alone, you can bring her back here. If not, you call us and we’ll get out of here.”

  “I think it’s worth a shot,” I said.

  Grandma made the call and arrang
ed the meeting for the next day. “She was curious how I got her number, but I tap danced around that.”

  “Was she suspicious of anything?”

  “I couldn’t tell,” Grandma said. “She was playing it close to the vest.”

  “She’s coming alone?” I asked.

  “I told her I wouldn’t approach her if I saw anyone else around.”

  “Okay, well, we have a plan,” I said.

  “Why are you acting like I’m not here?” Rachel asked as we stood washing the supper dishes.

  I looked at her blankly. “What?”

  “You know what I mean. Right now. You’re acting like I’m not here because you don’t want to talk about what’s going on.”

  “All we’ve been doing is talking about what’s going on.”

  “Stop it, Cal. You know I’m not talking about the stuff with your mom.”

  I sighed. I crossed my arms and gave her an exasperated look. I still thought I might be able to put her off.

  “What are we talking about then?”

  “Jane.”

  I blinked a few times. I held my stance. I didn’t look away. “What about Jane?”

  She narrowed her eyes and I started to crack. I turned to the sink, looking out the window. If we were going to talk about this, I couldn’t look her in the eye.

  “Are you in love with her?”

  “What?” That knocked the wind out of me.

  “You’re acting like you’re in love.”

  “No,” I said. What if she’s right? I couldn’t make sense of it. “I just like her. I thought you were going to say you didn’t like her getting in the middle of us.”

  “You’re full of it, Cal. There’s something going on there and you know it. And I don’t like it that you won’t talk to me about it.”

  I couldn’t come up with a response so I just stood there, staring blankly at her. She threw the dishtowel in the sink and stormed out. I finished the dishes by myself. What the heck? I pushed the “in love” thing out, but it kept coming back.

  * * *

  I felt shaky when I got into bed with Jane, almost like I was doing something wrong, sinful.

  “You know,” Jane said, skooching under the covers. “Earlier, at the tank—” She suddenly hesitated.

  “Yeah? What about it?”

  “I just…I don’t know. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

  I turned to face her. “What do you mean? Why would I feel uncomfortable?”

  “Do you not want to talk about it?”

  I looked away. “It’s…it’s hard for me.”

  “I understand. Let’s go to sleep.”

  She rolled over.

  “I’ve been feeling this way for…a while,” I said.

  “Feeling what way?”

  “Like…hmm…like I want to kiss you but…”

  Now I’d done it. My heart pounded and I started to sweat. Jane turned back to me and came a little closer. She put her hand on my thigh, her breathing quicker and heavier.

  “But what?”

  “I also feel like…like it’s not right. I mean, that it’s wrong.”

  “For two girls to kiss,” Jane said.

  “Right. Kissing…would be wrong.”

  “Just kissing?”

  Jane’s lips hovered close, so close, almost touching. But I turned away quickly, pulling the covers over my head.

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m such a loser.”

  Jane turned away from me and sighed in exasperation. I felt about as lame and ridiculous as I had ever felt. Why didn’t I just do it? I wanted to, but I had to stop myself, right? If I did it, if I was the one who went for it, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know what I was doing. I couldn’t deny that I had these feelings. I was so exhausted from all of it. I couldn’t think anymore. I slept without dreaming.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When the sun broke through the curtains and startled me awake, Jane was spooning me, and as we stirred, we both sat up without looking at each other.

  “How did you sleep?” I asked, jumping out of bed.

  “Cal, look at me.”

  I hesitated, then turned to face her. I flushed when I caught a glimpse of her panties as she pushed off the sheets to get out of bed. I had to resist the urge to run out of the room.

  “Let’s take it easy,” she said. “Take a deep breath. We have a lot to deal with today.”

  All I could do was nod, grab my clothes and run for the bathroom.

  Downstairs at breakfast, we were tense and excited for Grandma’s meeting. I was just happy that it meant I had something to think about other than how I felt about Jane.

  “We need to pack up just in case we have to get out of Dodge,” I said.

  “Okay, ladies,” Grandma said, picking up her purse and keys. “Stay by the phone.”

  I sat next to Rachel on the couch. “Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I guess I’m just shy about that whole thing.”

  Rachel laughed. “I know you, Carrie Ann Long. Sooner or later, you’ll talk to me.”

  Before an hour was up, the phone rang. I jumped for it.

  “Grandma?” I said into the receiver. “What happened?”

  “She’s willing to come,” Grandma said. “And she’ll come alone. We’ll be there soon.”

  “It’s a go?” said Jane.

  “They’re on their way.”

  “What exactly are we going to ask her to do?” Rachel said.

  “She seemed cool when we met her in the canyon. I want to show her the photos and see what they mean to her. Maybe what we saw will help them find my mom.”

  It wasn’t long before we heard wheels on the gravel in the driveway. I stepped to the window, lifting the curtain away.

  “It’s them.”

  Rachel stood stiff like a statue. “What if she knows about that stunt I pulled at the canyon to sneak back in? Do you think she might arrest me?” she whispered.

  “She doesn’t care about that,” I whispered back. “That’s park rangers. She’s a Texas Ranger. It’s a whole different thing. Don’t worry.”

  Bev came into Grandma’s living room, dressed in pants, a blouse, and black loafers, with an air of authority that made me warm to her again. Her short brown hair fell just below her ears. She looked like an athlete, maybe a runner.

  “Come on in,” I said, standing and shaking her hand like a grown-up. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Could I get you some iced tea?” Grandma asked.

  “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  Grandma went into the kitchen as the three of us sat there silent, waiting for Bev to say something.

  “You girls did want me to come here, right?”

  “Right,” I said. “We’re a little nervous.”

  “I can understand that. You’ve been very busy since I saw you last.”

  I was pretty sure she was scolding us. “What do you mean?” I asked. What if they know we spied on the meeting?

  “We know you went out on your own in the canyon—”

  “Well, of course you do,” Rachel said. “You are the Texas Rangers!”

  “Yes, well, what you did was extremely dangerous. You could have been hurt. Or worse.”

  “I know,” Jane said. “I can’t forgive myself for letting Cal and Rachel take a chance like that.”

  “Jane, stop,” I said. “It was my idea,” I said to Bev.

  “You were lucky. Something disrupted them that night. We don’t know what.”

  I looked away. I didn’t dare make eye contact with Jane or Rachel.

  “Now,” Bev went on, “Mrs. Norman says you have something you want to talk to me about.”

  “We have something to show you, but before we do, I have a few questions I’d like to ask if that’s okay with you,” I said.

  “If I can give you an answer, I will.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  I could sense Jane and Rachel tense up beside
me, like they were worried I was going to get us further in a hole.

  I stood, pacing around the room like I’d seen Perry Mason do. “Who planted that photo of Hackberry Camp in my mailbox?”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said. “That’s what took us to Palo Duro Canyon in the first place.”

  “Excellent question,” Bev said. “The key question, in fact.” She stood as if to add authority to her words. “It was none other than Hank Hart.”

  We all looked at each other, confused.

  “But—” I said.

  “Why would he do that?” Jane asked.

  “And how do you know?” Rachel chimed in.

  Bev took a deep breath. “I’ve been the agent in charge of following Hank Hart for the last two years. I’ve never met him, but I feel like I know him better than I know most of my family.”

  “Go on,” Grandma said.

  “He really fell hard for your daughter,” she said to Grandma. “That’s caused him to go a little soft. Make a few mistakes.”

  “You’re saying he dropped the photo in my mailbox so I could find her?”

  “I think he’d like to get her out of harm’s way, but he can’t do it himself. He has to convince his sons and the other men that he’s loyal to the operation above all. And willing to sacrifice Joyce if necessary.”

  “You said he’s made some mistakes,” I said.

  “One of my guys was following him when he made that drop at your house,” Bev said, looking at me. “He was alone, which is unusual, so we kept an eye on your house for a while. That’s how we realized y’all were up to something.”

  “Officer Gillette—”

  “Please, call me Bev.”

  “Okay, Bev. We were looking at the pictures we took in the canyon that night.”

  “What? If you took pictures, you may have captured what happened to disrupt the fuel drop!”

  The three of us looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

  “It was me,” Rachel said, looking at the floor. “I caused a ruckus and they ran scared, dropped everything.”

  Bev stood up and I could tell she was furious. “Do you realize what you’ve done? We prepared for that stakeout for the last six months. I had a big promotion riding on that bust. I should haul you all off to jail right this minute.”