Problem Child (Jane Doe #2) - Victoria Helen Stone Page 0,39
where she went: the hell out of here.”
This is new information. I’d ask which truck stop, but there’s only one that needs no name around here. The first big twenty-four-hour junction in the county seat, complete with showers and laundry facilities. The year they added a KFC, the kids in my school made so many chicken runs out there after class. “So she really did run away? On purpose?”
“Sure.”
I pause and turn to glare at her. “Did she tell you she was leaving or not?”
When she shrugs, I notice how much her shoulders droop now. She’s only sixty-five, but she’s already caving in on herself, skinny all over except her gut, and that center of gravity is dragging her in. “She didn’t say anything, but she was always out there looking for a ride, looking for money, whatever she did. That girl was mean as a snake, just like you, so either she’s fine or she got what she deserved. Who even knows?”
“Mean like me, huh?”
“Yeah. Sneaky. Beady eyes always watching me.” She’s losing her needy act completely now. “I was going to kick her out anyway. She had men coming around here like dogs after a bitch in heat. Nothing you can do for a girl like that.”
“I mean, you could try to keep grown men away from her. But that probably didn’t occur to you.”
She smacks her lips together, then barks out a hard laugh. “Men’ll take whatever anyone’s giving and you damn well know it. That’s just life. If you haven’t learned that by sixteen, good luck to you. Hell, you gave away enough yourself when you were her age; you should know.”
“Shit, Mama, I was giving it away by age seven, wasn’t I? Walking around here in tight shorts for any man you might rent a room to. How are they supposed to control themselves when there’s a hot ass around, right?”
“Oh please. You always were a little drama queen. You climbed up on his lap given half a chance every damn time. Didn’t look too scared to me.”
She told me their new friend would watch me when she and Daddy weren’t home. I was so happy at first. Hopeful. I pushed the last dregs of my best feelings into that warm hollow of hope and cradled them tight. I wouldn’t have to be alone in the house at night! Instead of Ricky ignoring my snotty crying, there would be an adult here to keep monsters at bay.
He was a dream come true at first. He cooked me actual food. SpaghettiOs and grilled cheese and burgers. Even homemade cookies. I can still remember the taste of warm oatmeal cookies. I was thrilled with this new arrangement. I was safe.
He told me I could call him Uncle Pete. I did. I asked him if he would take care of me. He promised he would. He said he loved me like I was his own little girl.
Then my parents left me alone with him for five days.
That was the last time I remember feeling anything much at all. They let him live here for six more months before he moved on.
Instead of punching my mother in the face, I start digging through Kayla’s belongings again.
“There’s no money in here, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“Jesus Christ, Mama. What kind of grown woman would steal cash from a teenage girl?” I flash a wide grin over my shoulder so she knows I’m insulting her nasty, greedy, grubby little fingers. “Wait a minute!” I gasp. I even press a dismayed hand to my chest. “How do you know there’s no cash in here? You didn’t already paw through everything looking for it, did you?”
“I was making sure there weren’t no drugs in here!” she barks as I snort in disbelief. “What if the social workers came by to check on the environments?”
I open the top drawer of the dresser to find a combination of fun underwear full of pink cartoon drawings and racier white lace. Not so unusual for a sixteen-year-old. Disappointingly typical. When I shove the panties aside, I spy a little stack of business cards pushed into a corner. Not quite so typical.
The one on top is from a school resource officer she probably got in trouble with a few times. Beneath it are several more cards. One from the youth minister at Central Baptist Church, one from the head of a kids’ soccer league, and one from the owner of a local equipment rental company.