right past him toward the door.
My mom follows me outside. “You get back here.”
“A few minutes ago you told me to get the hell out
of your house. I’m gettin’.”
“We need help. We’re out here suffering—”
“I can’t imagine that Social Security doesn’t treat
you just fine, considering Central Baptist paid for a good
chunk of this place. You ain’t gonna starve, Mama, and
Daddy looks like he’s getting more than enough to eat.
And drink.”
“So do you, you fat ass.”
“Oh, good Lord,” I mutter, nearly skipping down the
ramp. The yard might be a dried-out mess, but damned
if it isn’t a welcome sight now. Even the gray sky looks
prettier now, but then again, I’m facing away from the
steam cloud.
A glance toward the old trailer reveals the little window
that used to be my room. The glass is cracked. I cracked it.
I stop and stare at the long line that reaches diagonally
through the glass from one corner to another. I should
have destroyed this place back then. I wanted to. But
where would that have landed me? Living in an even
more broken-down trailer on this same worthless land.
I leave my mom behind, still screaming my name as
I drive away.
117
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I drop in on Central Baptist Church on my way out of
town. It’s a Tuesday afternoon, so I expect things to be
quiet, and they are, but there’s always a church secretary
around keeping things running. I enter through wooden
doors badly in need of a coat of paint.
The last time I was in a church, it was a shiny glass-
and-metal warehouse for righteous souls, but Central
Baptist is a small-town place. The chapel is dark, the pews are ancient, and I’m sure the basement meeting rooms
still smell like mildew. They always did.
I’m not struck dead when I step into the small receiving
area, so I continue toward a couple of open office doors I
see past the bathrooms. Despite the gloomy day, it’s hot
in here. If memory serves, it was always hot in here. Too
much furnace in the winter, and nothing but a couple
of window air conditioners in the summer. At least the
basement was cooler during post-service potlucks, and
that was all I cared about.
“Hello?” a woman calls from a room farther down.
“Can I help you?”
“Hi there!” I lay on my Okie accent as I slide into the
doorway. “I’m looking for Pastor Truman? He around?”
“Oh, no ma’am.” The round faced woman has a
friendly tone, but her mouth is pulled into a perpetual
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frown that highlights the deep lines between her bushy
eyebrows. “He left us several months ago.”
“Dead?” I ask.
“Oh no! No, ma’am. He moved up to Missouri, I think.
Quite a surprise, but we are working on hiring a new
youth minister. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I think Pastor Truman knew my niece Kayla?”
“Kayla?”
The eyebrows draw even closer together. She looks
about fifty, but a good threading would take five years
off her face, and she has kind eyes.
“She’s missing. You may have heard about that. Sarah’s
granddaughter?”
“Sarah. Oh. Of course.” The lines smooth out a little
when her face flattens at the sound of my mother’s name.
“Anyway, I found Pastor Truman’s card in my niece’s
room, and I thought she may have confided something
to him, him being a youth minister and all.”
Her face creases in genuine worry. “I’m so sorry about
your niece, but I honestly don’t remember seeing her
around here. Pastor Truman was here for several years,
though, so maybe that card was from a while ago?”
“Could’ve been. When did he leave?”
“Oh, six months ago, I guess. Just out of the blue! His
wife was pregnant with their third, and I guess she missed
her family up in Hannibal, so off they went. He only gave
us a week’s notice, but happy wife, happy life, right?”
“No scandal, then?”
“Of course not!”
“All right. Thanks for your help. And my mama’s
really enjoying that new trailer.”
“Oh, sure, well … Tell Sarah we say hi. We ain’t seen
her in quite a while now.”
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“Since she got the trailer?”
“Well…”
“Don’t worry, she’ll be back around next time she
needs something. You have a blessed day, now.”
She can’t quite reconcile my sugary tone with my
words, and the deep lines are back between her brows,
but she tries a cheerful, “You too, ma’am!”
Ma’am. Yeesh. That’s getting old. My kingdom for
a smart young bartender who knows to call me miss.
Maybe I’ll find one later tonight, but the ma’am s are hot and heavy around here. I probably won’t escape them
until I fly back north.
Oh well. Onward and upward.
My phone rings as I’m getting back into my car. It’s
the office again. I have a brief thought that maybe I’m
getting promoted, so I decide to answer it after all. “This is Jane,” I say, adding a subtle quaver of vulnerability to my voice. This isn’t a good time but I’m still answering
the call.
“Jane,” he says, and I swing the phone away from my
face to glare at it. Are you kidding me?
“Rob?” I snap back. “What do you want?”
“Hey, sorry,” he’s saying when I slide the phone back
to my ear. “I know this isn’t a good time, but I need to talk to you about North Unlimited. Shouldn’t take a minute.”
“I’m busy. Whatever it is, you’ll need to do it yourself
this time, Robert.”
“I just need to grab a couple of details from the num-
bers you threw out to the client. There’s something wrong
with the Google Doc.”
“You want my details?” I ask. “Surely you have your own notes. You worked so hard on that presentation,
after all.”
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Problem Child
“Jane, this isn’t about me. It’s about the client.”
“Your client.”
“Yeah, um…” Rob clears his throat. “I have some
good news. They really liked interacting with you.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. Absolutely. So Jeremy and I talked it over, and
we both want you to take the lead in negotiations when
you get back.”
Well, well, well. This is quite the news drop. And I
have all the power now. No more kid gloves for Rob.
“So you came up with the idea that I should take over
negotiations for your client. Is that what you’re saying,
Robert?”
“I, uh…”
“You need my help,” I suggest.
“Yes.”
“You’re asking for my help.”
“Yes.”
“So ask. And I suggest you ask nicely.”
“Jesus
,” I hear him mutter before he takes a deep
breath. “North Unlimited has requested that I work with
you on this, and I’d really love to have you on board.”
“How nice. What did Jeremy say?”
“He, uh … he said you should take the lead on ne-
gotiations when you get back.”
“This is so strange, Robert, but I still didn’t hear you
ask me a question, so I’m not sure how I’m supposed to
give an answer.”
“Would you please work with me on this deal and
take over negotiations when you’re back in the office?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “You have a tendency to take
credit even when you haven’t done the work. This setup
seems rather fraught with risk for me, don’t you think?”
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Victoria Helen Stone
“I…” I hear him swallow. “If I’ve taken credit in the
past for your work, I apologize.”
“If? That doesn’t indicate to me that you’ve learned anything from your latest missteps, and I don’t think I can trust you enough to work on this project for me. I’ll get
in touch with Jeremy and let him know.” I hang up and
buckle my seat belt. Before it even clicks in, my phone
is ringing again.
I wait a few seconds before answering. “Yes?”
“Jane, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve taken advantage
of your knowledge and leaned on you over the past year.
I’ve really appreciated all your hard work, and I promise
it won’t happen again.”
“I’m dealing with a family tragedy here, Robert.”
“I know. I know. I just … I really screwed up that
presentation to North Unlimited, and they’re pretty in-
sistent that I work with you on this. I’m begging you.”
Begging me? Well, I do like that. I raise my eyebrows
and settle back into the seat of my car. “Begging me for
what?”
“I know you’re concentrating on your niece, and that’s
what you should be doing. So I’ll do the work. I’ll get
everything together, write up the proposals, all of that.
If you could just send me your notes. Then, when you
return, you’re lead negotiator. But please don’t freeze me
out on this.”
Wow. I purposefully made myself look good and
Rob look terrible, but I got distracted by the excitement
of hunting for Kayla, and I didn’t push through to claim
my place. I assumed one of the partners would step in
and take charge.
Plus, this whole deal is boring as hell, trying to
sell smuggled chicken meat from China to a bunch of
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Problem Child
schoolkids. There’s nothing particularly sparkly about
that. Just imagine the bone-dry meetings I’ll get to look
forward to.
Still, I want it. And if I can get Rob to do the legwork
for me, it will be an ideal situation. I’ll sweep back into town, check his work, of course, and take my place in
the spotlight.
“Are you sure about those promises?”
“Absolutely. I’m absolutely sure. You can count on me
to have everything ready for you when you get back.”
“All right, then. I’ll forward my notes when I’m back
in my hotel room. You get to work. Send me updates.
I’ll step in as soon as I’m done here.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much. This is going to
be great.”
Well, he’s right about that, at least. This is going to be great.
123
CHAPTER TWELVE
It’s the middle of a workday, so I can’t imagine where I
could track down the head of a local soccer league. That
position can’t possibly be a full-time job around here.
League fees wouldn’t support a salary.
I look up the man’s name online and discover he’s an
assistant manager at a big chain grocery store near my hotel, so I leave my old town behind again. Can’t imagine we’ll
miss each other much, though I’m sure the place sparkles
a little less once I pull away. Hard to tell past the cloud.
I race a train along the highway and remember how I
fantasized about hitching a ride on one when I was young.
All those things on all those trains going to people who never set foot on these shitty oil lands. I wanted to follow the tracks and steal their lives. In the end I did.
If Kayla is anything like me, she blew the hell out of
this place and never looked back. But I still can’t tell. Is she strong and sick like me or just broken like half the
other girls here? There was no point in pressing my mother
on the issue. A bitch is a bitch is a bitch, in her parlance.
There aren’t exactly layers to explore.
If I don’t dig up more in the next twenty-four hours,
I’ll have to head back to Minneapolis without hero status.
I can’t stay too much longer, now that I’m the new rising
star in the office.
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Problem Child
Needing a distraction from the flat drive, I call Luke
on the speakerphone.
“Hey, babe,” he says cheerfully, as if he misses me too
much to remember we’re taking a break.
I grin at his welcome and purr out a sexy hello.
“Any news on your niece?”
“Not really, but I saw my parents.”
“Holy shit! Are you kidding me?”
ging for money.”
“Are you okay?”
“Sure. They didn’t jump me or anything.”
He huffs in laughter. “I meant emotionally.”
“You know me. I roll with the punches.”
“Yeah, but … what was it like?”
Hm. I pause to think what a normal person would
say, but the truth is I don’t have to pretend with Luke.
He knows I’m not normal. He doesn’t quite know what’s wrong with me, but he understands that I don’t have the
same emotions as others.
“It was good to see them,” I finally say.
“Really? That’s great. So things have gotten better?”
“No, it was good to see that they’re the same and I’m
better. I’ll come back to Minneapolis and they’ll be stuck
right here being miserable.”
He laughs again as if I’m kidding. “Okay, but you’re
sure you’re really all right? I always feel a little sick after seeing my mom, and you’ve said yours was pretty mean.”
“She’s still mean as a bear with a bladder infection,
but she looks like shit, so all in all it was a good time.”
“But nothing on your niece?”
“I’m not sure. Apparently she was living with my
parents when she disappeared. My mom is convinced
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Victoria Helen Stone
she took off with a truck driver, and it doesn’t seem to
occur to her that taking off with a strange adult doesn’t
mean a sixteen-year-old is alive and well. Funny, huh?”
“And there’s still no sign of her?”
“No. I’m running down a few leads. She had some
loser boyfriend named Little Dog—Jesus, that name. He
took off himself a week later, so either he’s with her or he skipped town because he knows something incriminating.”
“Maybe he’s looking for her.” Luke is a sweet guy with
a bit of a blind spot, which is how he ended up with me.
“So you think a guy named Little Dog is looking out
for the safety of a teenage girl to the exclusion of the rest of his life?”
“Okay. Maybe not.”
I feel a sudden surge of lust mixed up with something
I don’t recognize. Longing? “So what are you up to?” I
ask, trying for some sort of flirtatious affection. “You’re not cheating on me, are you?” I’m sure he’s not, but it’s
good to let him know I’m checking.
“Jane, come on!” He laughs like cheating on me is
the most preposterous idea he’s ever heard, and I smile
at the sound of it.
“You basically broke up with me before I left, so
pardon the question.”
“I didn’t break up with you. I asked you to move in
with me. There’s a big difference.”
Maybe my anger made me play this all wrong. I
should have been working his feelings to my advantage
from the start, and instead I was being pissed off about
it. I need to keep him tied to me as long as I want him.
I need to pull him close even if it disturbs me in ways I
don’t understand.
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Problem Child
“I love you,” I volunteer. It’s a rare declaration, usu-
ally gasped out during sex, because that’s my only real
form of intimacy.
“Aw, babe,” he sighs. “I love you too. I’m sorry we
fought, and I’m worried about you. That’s a lot to take
on down there. Even if you think you’re doing okay,
you’re probably absorbing a lot of damaging crap, and
that’s hard on anyone.”
I should be sure to act vulnerable now. He’ll want to
protect me. I don’t need it, but I want him to protect me.
There’s no one else who’d even bother.
“My mom talks about Kayla like she always talked
about me,” I offer. I haven’t told him much about my
family. The truth is leverage, and I never give anyone
that. But today the truth is a tool. “She calls her a whore and a slut. Says she doesn’t care what happens to her.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke says, and he means it. I’m glad he
feels sorry for the little girl I used to be, because all I can do is hate her for her stupid softness. If Kayla is soft, I’ll hate her too, but there’s still a chance she’s something
more. I’m getting hints of it but no proof.
“Were they…” He stops, then tries again. “Were they
happy to see you? Or was there drama?” Luke knows