Dark Roads

by Chevy Stevens

  I didn’t want to talk about Shannon, or anyone, with Vaughn, but something struck me strange about what he was saying. “You think it was someone at the party?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know, but it’s never sat right with me. I’m going through all the statements again, having another talk with some of the kids who were there.”

  I stared at the side of his face. “Everyone says it was the highway killer.”

  “There’s never been one killer on that highway. There were at least two, maybe even three over the years, but this is someone new. I got to her body first, and there wasn’t much left of her, but that image is still burned into my brain. You ever hear the term overkill? Coroner said he beat her so hard he broke bones, then he strangled her. Whoever this guy is, he liked hurting her, and he’s not going to stop now.” Vaughn was taking the corners fast, tires squealing, my body forced against the door. “My bet is that he’s already looking for his next victim.”

  I felt sick, acid burning in my empty stomach, lurching into my throat. I gripped the door handle as he took another bend. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “You think you’re safe as long as you don’t hitchhike, but I’m telling you, this killer is different.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to my bike rattling in the back. “You know how easy it would be for a guy to knock you off that? He just has to tap it with his bumper and you’re on the ground.”

  “You’re trying to freak me out.”

  “I’m trying to keep you alive.” He gave me another look through his sunglasses, turned back to the windshield. “You don’t like me much, do you?”

  I blinked, held my breath for a minute. Did he actually want me to say something? There was no way I could answer that without lying.

  “Hey, I get it. Cops are the enemy, right? We bust up your parties and ruin your fun. But you and me, we have more in common than you think. My dad took off when I was a kid, and my mom had problems. She dated a lot of men, okay?” He slid his sunglasses up onto his head and gave me a quick, hard stare. “I tried to look out for her, but she still got hurt. It’s why I became a cop. I take care of my people. This town is my people. When I married your aunt, you became my people.” I shifted my gaze to stare at my feet. He was wrong—we didn’t have anything in common. My dad and mom loved each other, and Dad didn’t take off.

  “My ex-wife and I broke up because she didn’t want kids, and you know what? I still go by her house and make sure everything is okay. I still check up on the guys she brings home. I watch out for my people.” He punctuated each word with a slap of his hand on the steering wheel and met my eyes, unblinking. “You understand what I’m saying, Hailey?”

  Yeah. I understood that he had a hero complex and he was expecting me to be grateful that he’d chosen me as a project. “You want to keep me safe.”

  He slapped the steering wheel again. “Now she’s getting it.” The truck slowed. We were at the entrance to the campsite. I looked at him, confused.

  “I’m going to take a run through here first.” Vaughn pulled in slowly, cruising down the center road, his eyes darting from side to side. Checking out tents and campers.

  He stared at a group of girls. A little older than me, in booty shorts and crop tops, sipping from their red party cups, probably full of cider or hard iced tea.

  “See them? They’re going to get drunk, wander off into the bushes alone or down to the lake for a last swim, then they’ll pass out cold in their tents for anyone to mess around with.” A shake of his head. “They’re asking for trouble.”

  “They’re having fun. It’s not their fault if guys are assholes.”

  “If a mouse is dumb enough to walk in front of a cat, it’s going to get eaten.”

  I wasn’t going to keep arguing with him. I just wanted to get this over with. Frowning, I stared out the side window. We’d circled the campsite and now we were heading to the lake.

  We drove down the highway, bumped onto the gravel road that ran behind the lake. Trees blocked out the sun and cast long shadows. I chewed the inside of my cheek.

  We passed cabin after cabin. He stopped at a couple of them, looked down their driveways, and told me what he was checking for—broken windows, vandalism, garbage.

  “Renters are always leaving stuff behind. Makes a mess and brings bears. Most of the owners are decent. They call me to check on things. You get to know them over the years.”

  At every stop, I stared out the window and ignored his voice. I couldn’t stand listening to any more of his theories, but we were almost around the lake. He turned down a narrow, overgrown lane. I had to grab on to the dash to keep my balance. He stopped in a clearing.

  The truck was facing the lake, the shore blocked by bulrushes, shrubs, and ferns. At the back of the lot, near the tree line, a run-down shack slanted forward. Someone had spray-painted their initials on the side. Half-burnt logs sat in a fire ring, and a truck bench seat was on one side.

  “Sometimes people camp here.” He shut off the truck. I knew there were parties on this side of the lake, but it was where the headbangers and druggies hung out. We stayed away from that crowd.

  “It’s private land,” Vaughn said as he got out. “Doesn’t seem to stop them, though. I come out almost every day in the warm months. Last thing we need is a forest fire.” He gestured to me. “Come on. The view is pretty from here.” The door slammed, making the truck rock.

  I hesitated, my hand on the door. I didn’t want him to think we were going to be friends, but it was hot as hell in the cab without air-conditioning. Better to play along, I guess.

  When I climbed out, he was looking out over the lake. “Lots of birds out here. Eagles, herons. I’ve got some good shots.” He glanced back at me. “You like photography?”

  “Not really.”

  I moved to the front of the truck, a few paces away. We were across from the beach on the other side. Had he been here the night of the party? I couldn’t see much from that distance, but he would have been able to see the bonfire. He hadn’t ordered us to put it out.

  At the moment, he was walking around the lot, staring down at the dirt, moving things around with his boots. What was he looking for? Cigarette butts? Needles? He picked up a beer can and tossed it into the firepit, then shone a flashlight through the broken door of the cabin.

  “Can we go back now?”

  “In a rush?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  He walked toward me, and I thought that meant this strange trip was finally over, but then he stopped and leaned against the hood of his truck. The sun beat down overhead, making his blond eyebrows almost invisible, his pale eyes opaque.

  “Your dad and me, we had some talks. He left you on your own too much.”

  “Dad knew he didn’t have to worry about me.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I bit out the word. “I know how to shoot a gun.”

  “Guns are no good if a man gets you on the ground.”

  “He won’t have a chance.”

  “You think you can take on a man double your size, hopped up on adrenaline and God knows what else? The moment he gets you down, you have to react. Don’t stay quiet thinking that he’ll let you go after he’s done. Go for his eyes, nostrils, testicles. Use your teeth and nails.”

  “I just said I can protect myself. I don’t need the lessons.” He was trying to make me feel helpless, trying to creep me out. He’d been testing me the entire drive and I was sick of it.

  He gave me a measured look, then stepped toward me. In one smooth motion he gripped my shoulder, swung behind my body, and pressed me back against his chest, with his arm across my throat. I struggled to twist away. He breathed in my ear. “Try and get out of it. Go on, try.”

  I scrabbled at his arm, flailed my legs.

  He grunted. “Raise your shoulders, tuck your chin. Reach up and get your thumb in my eye, hook my nostril. Give it a try.”

  “No! Let me go!”

  “Come on.” H
is voice growled into my ear, my skin prickling, his gun belt hard against my back. Panic made me lunge forward. His arm tightened, forcing my chin higher. I kicked back—hoping to get him in the groin—but he hooked his leg around mine. I thudded onto the dry ground. My breath whooshed out and my spine was jarred so hard my teeth clicked together.

  He flipped me over and straddled my hips, lifted my arms on either side of my head. My shoulder sockets made a popping sound as the tendons slid over bone, stretched tight.

  His face, right over mine. His eyes, icy blue. He looked triumphant—and terrifying. “See how easy that was? He’s going to want to get you down fast. Most women buck up, but you have to roll to the side, into their elbows.” I tried to squirm free, but his legs were steel, his face so close I could smell his aftershave and see the beads of sweat on his face.

  “That the best you can do? Try harder.”

  “No.” I turned to the side, refusing to look him in the eye.

  He let go of my wrists and got to his feet. With the sun behind his head, his face was all in black. I lay sprawled in the dirt, trying to catch my breath, and rubbed at my shoulders.

  “If this was a real situation, you’d be dead by now.” He stepped over my body and headed to the truck.

  * * *

  He sped down the highway, braking hard on the curves, tires squealing. His mouth was a thin line, his sunglasses covering his eyes, but I couldn’t get a handle on his mood. He never spoke to me once and finally screeched to a halt at the end of his driveway. I scrabbled at the door. He reached across and gripped my knee, holding me in place.

  “Someone stole a carburetor from Cooper’s farm. You know anything about that?”

  I shook my head and tried to keep my expression flat.

  “What was Jonny doing Sunday night?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Jonny isn’t a minor anymore.”

  “So?”

  “So he could be pulled over at any time, his truck searched. He could end up in jail.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I don’t want you with him anymore.”

  “You don’t get to just—”

  “I can do whatever I want.” He spoke with no anger. No force behind his words. He didn’t need to prove himself. He looked at me as though I were nothing. A breeze in a tornado.

  He held my eyes for a few more beats. “Got it?” He waited until I nodded, then unlocked the door. I yanked on the handle, almost falling out, and climbed into the back to get my bike—tossing it to the ground. He didn’t leave until I was inside the house.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket.

  Lock the door behind you.

  CHAPTER 4

  Lana and Cash were asleep. Vaughn was due home soon. I rolled off my bed in the dark, tiptoed to my closet, and opened the door slowly. Clothes brushed the top of my head as I huddled on the floor and pushed aside shoes to make room. My phone lit up the small area as I called Jonny.

  “What’s going on?” Jonny’s voice was hushed on the other end. I imagined him in his room, his parents sleeping upstairs, his two brothers down the hall.

  “Vaughn says we can’t hang out—he took me to the lake, like patrolling or whatever, and drove through the campsite, talking about the murders.” The words fell out in a rush, anger twisting my tongue. “He was showing me one of the cabins and acting like he was trying to give me self-defense moves but he dropped me on the ground—hard—and pinned me.”

  “Are you kidding?” He wasn’t whispering anymore. I imagined him sitting up in bed, flipping on the light. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “Shut up. You’re not doing anything.” It made me feel better. The offer. Dad would have gone over with a shotgun. But if Dad were alive, Vaughn would never have dared touch me. “He knows about the carburetor—he was asking questions. You have to get rid of it.”

  “Why is he screwing with you like this?”

  “Because he’s on a power trip? I don’t know, but he’s legit serious. He could put something in your truck.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can handle him.”

  “Cops plant stuff all the time. Drugs, stolen goods. It would mess up your chances of getting sponsors.” He was quiet this time. He knew I was right. “Delete all our texts. We can communicate through Facebook Messenger. I’ll make sure I’m always signed out of everything.”

  I didn’t think Vaughn would take my phone—he needed to check on me when I was babysitting.

  “I don’t want you getting in trouble over me,” Jonny said.

  “I won’t. I just have to figure out if he’s cheating on Lana. Then I can get some sort of proof, and he’ll have to leave me alone or I’ll tell her.” The homes past the lake were mostly farms, run by married couples, or a few men from town, like Mason, who had a big property. It had to be someone who was staying in one of the cabins. The perfect cover.

  “You’re going to blackmail him?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  He blew the air through his teeth in a long whistle. “I’ll ask my dad about the Moose Lodge. He knows a couple of guys who belong. Maybe Vaughn has missed other meetings.”

  “That would be good. Like if there is a pattern or whatever.”

  “If he’s doing anything shady, we’ll find out,” Jonny promised.

  “It might be hard. He’s probably careful.”

  “Guys like him never think they’re going to get caught.”

  “I don’t want you to get caught. When can you get the carburetor off my bike?”

  “I have to work tomorrow. I’ll go over as soon as I can.”

  * * *

  Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains and made a checkered design on the far wall. The clock above the bed said it was nine. I kicked off the blanket, rolled over, and stared at the door, listening to Lana and Cash moving around, talking. They had an appointment at the salon to get Cash’s hair trimmed. Lana asked last night if I wanted to come along, but I’d passed.

  I didn’t know when Vaughn had gotten home, but I’d heard him walking around an hour ago, dragging the recycling and garbage to the end of the driveway. He’d come back inside to say goodbye to Lana. Have a good day, honey. Need me to pick up anything on the way home?

  Now the sound of the garage door sliding up as Lana left, her car engine fading away. I got up quickly and checked the garage and the driveway to make sure they were gone, then snuck into Lana’s room. I sniffed every bottle of perfume, lotion, and body spray. None of them had that musky orange scent. In the master closet, I went through the pockets of Vaughn’s coats, examined his lapels for strands of hair, rummaged through his drawers. Nothing.

  I poured a cup of lukewarm coffee, ate some organic cereal that looked and tasted like chunks of cardboard—Lana shopped online from a health food store. I saw the receipt once and couldn’t believe how much everything cost. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered how Vaughn had so much money. Their TV was top-of-the-line, they each had iPads, including Cash, and the latest iPhones. Everything in the house was new—appliances, furniture. They bought it all right after they got married. I understood wanting a fresh start, but it was like they won the lottery and went on a shopping binge. Last year they’d gone to Cancún. Lana said their hotel was amazing, and Cash had a blast in the kid’s club. She’d touched Vaughn’s arm when she was telling me this, gave it a squeeze like she was thanking him. He’d patted her hand.

  Lana probably didn’t earn a lot at the florist shop. How much could Vaughn make as a sergeant? I wanted to see one of his pay stubs, but I couldn’t find any paperwork in the house. Not even one utility bill. They must do everything online. Frustrated, I took a break for a shower.

  When I stepped out fifteen minutes later, the bathroom was full of steam and beads of water dripped down the walls. I hadn’t opened the window. I’d wipe the marks off and hope no one noticed. I was pretty much the only one who used the main hall bathroom. Cash had his own off his
room, and the master bedroom had a suite with a double shower and a huge soaker tub.

  I wrapped a towel around my body and slid the window up. The long rectangle gave me a clear view of Gray Shawl Mountain—so called because of the way the clouds settled around the peaks. Today it was hazy in the sun. I clenched my hands into fists. I should be up there. Nothing smelled like the woods in the summer, warm earth and pine needles. I should be riding my bike with Dad and Jonny, then coming home to grill fresh-caught salmon with them.

  I thought about all the times we’d driven out to the West Coast and brought back huge chum salmon, which we’d smoke in the fifty-five-gallon drum barrel that Dad made, or the traditional First Nations way—over an open fire. We’d butterfly the fish, marinate it in salt brine, and rub it down with brown sugar or maple syrup. Sometimes we used berries and herbs, wild garlic. When it was ready, we’d weave cedar skewers through the meat, and slowly cook it over alderwood. My favorite was candied salmon, long sticky strips of it.

  Vaughn bought salmon at the grocery store, threw it on the grill like it was a special treat. I stared out at the garden shed that he used for his office, tucked into the far corner of the yard. It was pretty, with blue siding and white trim around the windows, two hanging flower baskets. The house behind it was blocked by a few trees and a fence. I imagined the shed was a quiet place to work. Lana said Vaughn kept it locked. Sometimes he has to bring home sensitive material about cases, and he doesn’t want Cash to see anything.

  Like what, autopsy reports? Evidence bags with bloody clothing? Wouldn’t that be kept at the station? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t like Cash was going to read his files. Even if there were photos, all Vaughn had to do was put them in a cabinet or a drawer.