“I should get going.” I fumbled for my keys in the ignition.
“Okay,” he said, leaning down and talking into my open window. “But if you want some work, just follow the main road past town and make a left after the bridge onto River Bottom Road. You’ll see the driveway on the left—go up to the main house, my uncle lives in the lower one. Brian’s my dad’s name.”
“Thanks for the tip.” I felt a rush of relief when he stood back up. “You’ve blocked me in.”
“We’ll move. You going to be okay tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I forced a smile. He smiled back. They all got in the truck. I watched in my rearview mirror as they drove off.
*
I parked behind an old school, rolled up my windows, locked the doors. I turned my stereo on, played the CD Crystal had given me. But it didn’t work. No matter how I tried to get lost in the beat, I kept seeing Riley’s face. He’d been nice, so why was I nervous around him? This town was making me paranoid. I turned off the stereo, ripped out the CD, and tossed it onto the floor. I made up my bed in the back and closed my eyes.
I woke with the sun streaming through my back window, the air warm and stuffy. I stretched my cramped body, felt something bad tugging at my insides. Then I remembered. Crystal was still missing. I sat up, looked around. The car, which had felt safe the night before, now seemed too small, smothering.
I changed quickly, sat on my bumper, drinking my water and thinking about what I should do. If I got a job on the ranch, I might be able to find some sign that Crystal had been there, or that they were hiding something like her car. Then I could call the police. I might even find her. But I was terrified. If they were the same men who had hurt my mom and my aunts, they might hurt me too, especially if they caught me snooping around. I remembered everything Crystal had told me, remembered the fear in her face, the dead look in her eyes.
I had to make sure they thought I had lots of family, people who cared about me, knew where I was—and I’d make sure I was never alone with either of them. I’d carry my knife at all times. I reached behind me into the hatchback, found the knife, and held it in my lap, fiddling with the switch.
I thought about talking to them, how it was going to feel, wondered if I’d be able to go through with it. What if I freaked out or had a panic attack or something? My hand was already sweaty on the blade, my pulse racing. I closed my eyes and focused on Crystal—how much I missed her, how I was the only one who could find her. I let my breath out and put the knife back under my seat, tried to tuck my fear down with it, but it was still clawing at my insides.
I went to the gas station on the highway, took a sponge bath in the sink, braided my hair, and brushed my teeth. Then I pulled on my cargo shorts, which were a little longer than my other shorts, and a white T-shirt—it was fitted but I figured it was better than a tank top. I wasn’t sure what footwear I’d need for working on a ranch, but I slid my feet into my favorite leather flip-flops with the daisy between the toes. My runners were in the car if I needed them.
I found the ranch, which was a long way out of town, on River Bottom Road. My stomach was in knots when I finally saw their sign. The fence up the driveway looked like it had been white at one time but it was dirty and peeling now, the driveway hard-packed dirt that kicked up dust behind me. I passed a second driveway that probably led to Gavin’s house. I followed the signs to the office, pasture on either side of me with horses grazing in the fields.
I parked in front of a big blue building beside the house that looked like a utility trailer, the kind you see on construction sites. I couldn’t make myself get out just yet, felt like an icy cold hand was holding me down, pinning my legs. I looked around, still trying to gather courage. One side had a small door with a sign for the office. Across the driveway there was a white house with a veranda that wrapped around the front. A few big maples shaded the corner. Someone had put hanging baskets on the front, and a few old tractor tires had some flowers in them on the walkway, but the house looked run-down.
If I sat there much longer, someone was going to wonder what was wrong with me. I wiped my sweaty hands on my shorts, opened my door, and forced my legs to walk forward. I peeked in the window to the side of the office door, noticed a man sitting behind a desk, his head down as he looked at some paperwork. Was it Brian? All my nerves were jangling inside me, making my mouth go dry. I took a deep breath, then knocked.
“Come in,” the man said.
The office was small, with a desk, a couple of chairs, a concrete floor. A coffeemaker perched on a small shelf, almost hanging over the edge, and a mini-fridge hummed in the corner. It was cool in the room, a welcome relief from the wave of heat that had hit me when I stepped out of my car. The man sitting at the desk looked surprised to see me and kind of confused.