Lacey leaned over her plate, scooping up a huge mouthful of potpie and shoving it into her mouth. Still chewing, she stabbed her salad and brought another forkful into her mouth. I was still unrolling the cutlery from my paper napkin.
“God, this is so good,” she said.
I watched, disgusted at first—the chicken potpie looked watery, and the salad was wilted and drenched with dressing. Then I noticed the skin stretching over her collarbone, her skinny wrists and bony forearms, her pink plastic watch.
“Yeah, it’s really good,” I said, digging in and taking a big mouthful.
When we were done the waitress brought our bill. I threw some money down on the table.
“Well, good luck out there.” I got up and lifted my packsack onto my shoulder—I hadn’t wanted to leave my laptop in the car.
“Wait,” Lacey said. “It’s almost five. If try to hitchhike now I might not get a ride tonight. I didn’t know how small this town was—I could be stuck on the highway at dark.”
I frowned, worrying. Crystal needed me. I couldn’t get sidetracked.
Lacey stood up, grabbed her purse. “You told the guys at the station that you might be getting a motel room. Can I crash? Just for the night? In the morning I’ll go over to the truck stop and I’ll get a ride no problem. I’ll even call my boyfriend and he can wire you some money for, like, the food and motel.”
She did have a point about getting stuck on the road. I’d only seen two cars drive down the main street the whole time we’d been there. How far would she have to walk? I glanced down and noticed her sandals, the Band-Aid between her toes.
“Okay, but just for the night.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
We got back into the car, heat enveloping us in a thick blanket, making me instantly miss the air-conditioned diner. The waitress had told us that the Sunshine Valley reached the highest temperatures in all of BC and I could believe it—the steering wheel was almost too hot to touch. We rolled down the windows and drove around the building, parked in front of the motel.
“Wait here, okay? I’ll be right back,” I said.
“Okay.”
The woman behind the counter put down the book she was reading and looked up at me over her glasses.
“Can I help you?”
“Is a woman named Crystal Caldwell staying here?”
“Don’t think so.…” She scanned her registration book. “Nope.”
“Anyone who looks like this woman?” I passed her my photo of Crystal.
She held it away from her face, squinting. “Looks like the lady who’s staying in forty-eight—she rented it for a week. But she’s got brown hair.”
So Crystal had come here—she must’ve dyed her hair. I felt the thrill of victory—I’d found her. Then a flash of fear. Where was she?
The woman gave me the photo and a suspicious look.
“Who is she?”
“My aunt.” I had my story ready. “She and my mom had a big fight and she took off. It was awful. I’m trying to find her, hoping to smooth things over, you know.”
The woman nodded. “My sister and I are always fighting.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Not for a couple of days.” She shrugged. “But I don’t keep track of everyone’s coming and going. She didn’t want housekeeping for the week.”
“When did she check in?”
“Monday, I think.” So she must’ve left Vancouver Monday morning.
“Any chance I could go into her room to leave her a note?”
“Sorry, honey. But I can tell her you’re looking for her.”
“Well, could I please rent a room close to hers?”
“You got a credit card?”
“No.”
“Cash up front, then. How many nights you staying?”
“Just one for now.”
“Sixty dollars plus tax.” The woman handed me a form and I wrote down my name and license plate number. I gave her the form back along with cash for the room. I wanted to ask about the ranch, but I couldn’t think of a natural way. Then I got an idea.
“My friend is looking for a job. I heard there was a cattle ranch around here that hires kids.”
She nodded. “The Luxton Ranch, only big one in town.”
“Oh, okay.” Had I found them? “Do you know who she should talk to?”
“Brian or Gavin—they run the place.”
How could I find out if it was the same men? Maybe someone else owned it now. I tried to think what to ask next. Directions, I needed directions.
The phone was ringing.
“Enjoy your stay,” the woman said, and reached for it.
*
The motel room was okay, two double beds with matching blue floral covers, a tiny fridge, and a TV that looked almost as old as the one we had at home. Lacey dumped her packsack onto the bed closest to the bathroom.
“Mind if I take this one?”
“Sure.” I sat on the other bed, checked my phone. Mom had texted back, telling me to have fun and she missed me. Nothing about Crystal.