Dark Roads

by Chevy Stevens

  Jonny had sat in that chair. They’d talked easily about Amber and Hailey. He had made her feel comforted, reassured. She’d have sensed something was wrong with him when they got drunk together. She would have known. She couldn’t have slept with her sister’s killer.

  “Everyone probably knows everyone in this town. Doesn’t mean anything.”

  He got to his feet. “Sure. Bet Amber thought the same thing. Unless you want to join her, stay away from him. I don’t want to have to pick through your bones.” It was macabre, the way he said it, shockingly brutal, and judging by the glint in his eye when she sucked in her breath, it hit exactly as intended. There was nothing she could say against such ugly words.

  “You take care, now.” His shoes squeaked on the floor as he spun around, his strides long.

  After he was gone, Beth sat on the edge of the bed for a few more minutes, then grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. On her way out, she took the magazines and left them on the nurses’ desk.

  * * *

  Her car was full of gas. She’d only had a quarter of a tank the night she drove home from the diner. Jonny had filled it up. She stared at the gauge. Why hadn’t he told her about Shannon? It had to be a lie. Vaughn was manipulating her, for some reason. Maybe to get at Jonny.

  She eased out of the hospital parking lot, sucking in her breath when her tires rolled over a speed bump. Her ribs were bruised, not broken, but they would still take a while to heal, and she’d have to come back to get the stitches on her head removed. The doctor told her that she needed to be careful not to get another concussion. She promised to avoid more cliff-diving.

  Midweek, the campground was nearly empty. One family was in a site close to the entrance, and a truck with Alberta license plates and a camper was in a middle site. Three large men stood around their barbecue, drinking beer and admiring their dirt bikes.

  She was disappointed to see that Jonny’s friends had left the campground. She’d come to think of them as protectors. Or at least they weren’t strangers. Jonny might not believe there was a mountain man, but she wasn’t convinced. Either way, that dog was still out there.

  She walked slowly around her site and the shore but didn’t see any paw prints. She’d bring more scraps in case he showed up. He deserved a burger—a steak—after saving her life.

  She crawled into the tent to change, pausing to stare down at her things, all rumpled and out of order. What had Jonny been thinking when he went through her clothes? Did he feel as though he were violating her privacy? If she’d been going through his things, she would have stopped to smell his shirts, maybe pulled one over her head to keep. She decided to leave her clothes the way he’d left them, unfolded, tossed loose from their straight little lives.

  The vodka bottle was on its side in the cooler, the remaining liquid leaked out. She’d picked up another on the way back. Drink in one hand, and the bottle of vodka under her arm, she walked down to the dock and sat in the middle on the warm wood planks. She hugged her knees to her chest and wondered if Amber and Hailey had sat in the same spot.

  Three women. Two dead, and one missing. Jonny had an alibi for when Hailey went missing, and if there had been any real evidence he was involved with Amber’s or Shannon’s deaths, the cops would have arrested him. It was just Vaughn’s obsession. Jonny hadn’t even tried to get Beth alone. She was the one who invited him out to the campsite, and into her tent.

  Still. Why hadn’t Jonny told her about Shannon? She thought for a moment and picked up her cell phone, hovered her finger over the keyboard. It’s a bad idea to text a guy when you’re feeling emotional. Especially if you’re high on pills and maybe a little bit lonely.

  She quickly tapped out, Thanks for dropping off my car, and hit send before she could overthink it. She was being polite. If he answered, great. If he didn’t, oh, well.

  She picked up the vodka bottle and swirled the liquid around. The Coke was at her campsite in her cooler. Seemed a long way to go for something she didn’t need. She pressed the rim to her lips and drank it straight, then dropped onto her back, legs dangling into the cold water, and waited for the alcohol to hit her blood and mix with her painkillers.

  Goodbye problems, hello oblivion.

  * * *

  Her face was wedged against her backseat. She tried to sit up and sucked in a sharp cry at the pain in her ribs. Right. Forgot about those. She pressed her hands to the side of her head and winced when she made contact with her stitches and the lump that was still very lumpy.

  She closed her eyes until the pain receded, then she sat up slowly, taking stock of her body, her car, the heat pressing in around her. Her hair felt sweaty. She was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Her feet were filthy. Sand and dirt were in her bedding, on the seats, the floorboards. Somehow she’d gotten dirty footprints on the dash. Like she’d kicked her feet up. Having herself a nice day at the beach. She stared at the marks, willing herself to remember. When was she in the front seat? What else had she done? Her gaze landed on her cell phone.

  Oh, no. Had she texted anyone? She couldn’t remember if Jonny had messaged her back. She had a vague memory of checking her phone and being angry, or maybe sad. If luck was on her side, she would have been smart enough not to act on those feelings. She tapped the home button. The screen was black. She glanced at her watch—not on her wrist. She must have left it on the picnic table. The sun was up, but the air was cool. She guessed it was early.

  When she reached for the car door, she realized it wasn’t locked—it wasn’t even closed properly. She ran her hand under the front seat. The gun was still there. She pushed the door open the rest of the way and stumbled toward the bathroom. She stopped to retch a few times into the bushes, crying out every time her ribs expanded, then kicked dirt over the remains.

  Toiletries finished, she unearthed half a bottle of lukewarm water from her cooler, and drank it down in two hard swallows. She found her watch. She had to leave soon for her shift.

  She brushed her teeth, rolled her hair into a messy topknot, with sections loose to hide the stitches, patted some makeup gingerly across the bruise, and dug through her clothes until she found a pair of clean shorts and an oversized white T-shirt. Hopefully the shirt wouldn’t irritate her throbbing sunburned shoulders. She swallowed a painkiller—and, after a moment’s consideration, a nibble of Xanax—then slid behind the wheel of her car.

  The engine wouldn’t turn over. She tried the key again. Nothing.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” She pounded her fists on the hot steering wheel. Was there any limit to how stupid she had been last night? When she hadn’t closed the driver’s door properly, it must have kept the interior light on, which drained her already-weak battery. Now she had no water, no food, no phone, and a dead car. If she didn’t get to town, she was going to lose her job too.

  She got out of her car and had a look around the campsite. The family at the entrance had left their tent. Their car was gone. The truck with Alberta plates was also gone, but they still had chairs around their barbecue. They were probably riding their dirt bikes.

  Beth tossed a few things into her backpack, tucked the gun into the side pouch, pulled the flap down, and headed to the highway. Trucks passed, a couple of cars. If anyone wondered why a girl was walking along the highway—that highway—no one stopped to ask.

  It had only been ten minutes, but her ribs were so uncomfortable she could only take shallow breaths, and her lips were already dry and cracked. She licked them again.

  When she heard a vehicle slow behind her, she rested her hand on the backpack strap near the gun, then peeked over her shoulder. A cop car. She dropped her hand. Vaughn? This was getting creepy as hell. Could a cop be charged for harassment?

  The car slowed beside her. “You need a ride?”

  She looked through the open window. Thompson.

  She sighed with relief, nodded. “That would be great.” The doors unlocked with a click and she slid inside the air-conditioned inte
rior, wincing as she pulled the seat belt across her chest.

  Thompson reached behind the seat, then handed her a bottle of water—cold, perfect water. She drank it so fast she got brain freeze. She rubbed at her forehead.

  “Thanks for picking me up. My car battery died, and I couldn’t charge my phone.”

  “I’ll give it a jump-start.” He did a fast U-turn in the middle of the highway and drove back toward the campsite. “You shouldn’t be walking alone.”

  “I wasn’t hitchhiking. I was going to ask someone in the cabins for help.”

  “Still not a good idea.” He frowned, the sun shining on his inky hair, slicked back like he’d showered not long ago. The sleeves on his uniform shirt had crisp lines.

  “I didn’t think hanging around the campsite was any safer.”

  “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be there either.”

  “Please.” She held out a hand. “Save your breath. I’ve already heard it all from Vaughn. God, it’s like he’s appointed himself my personal savior. Does he visit everyone in the hospital?”

  “He cares about the people who live here.”

  Beth snorted. “Not everyone.”

  “Why do you say that?” He shot a sideways glance at her and it was obvious he was trying to seem casual, but she saw how his eyes narrowed.

  “He hates Jonny, really hates him. He thinks he killed Amber.” She was too high to be talking, but she couldn’t hold back. “Is that why no one has found her killer? Is he even considering other suspects? I thought cops weren’t supposed to get tunnel vision.” They were bumping down the road into the campground.

  “Vaughn’s not the only investigator on this case.”

  She glanced at him. “I trust Jonny.”

  They were at her car. Thompson pulled in and got jumper cables out of the trunk. Beth sat behind the wheel and followed his instructions. When her car started, Thompson gave her a thumbs-up. She left the car running and got out. He was putting away the cables.

  “Thanks. Hopefully I won’t be too late for work.”

  He nodded and gave her a thoughtful look. “What you said about Sergeant Vaughn turning up wherever you go? I’m sure he’s just watching out for you, but if you’re uncomfortable being alone with him, or if something ever doesn’t feel right, call me.”

  “Nothing about this town feels right, Thompson.” She pulled open her door, wincing as her rib cage complained, and lowered herself into her seat. “Who do I call about that?”

  She closed the door before he could answer.

  * * *

  Mason eyed her. He had a hand towel thrown over one shoulder and an order pad tucked into his apron. “You sure you’re up for working today?”

  “I’ve got this.”

  “Maybe start with wiping down the booths.” He looked uneasy, like she might drop a tray or mess up everyone’s orders. He might not be wrong. She’d gone to the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face and neck, touched up her makeup, but she still felt shaky.

  She moved over to a booth, cleaned the table, rubbed at some ketchup that had spattered up the wall and onto one of the picture frames. “Where did you get all these old photos?”

  “Came with the diner. Hailey’s father gave me the history of them all. He knew everything about the area. Every mountain, river. Hailey was just like him.”

  Beth studied the row of photos, stopped at one black-and-white shot of a small log cabin with smoke drifting up from a metal pipe. It looked as though it were built straight into rock.

  She moved closer and tapped the glass. “What’s this?”

  “The cabin? Miners used it, but that silver mine stopped operating years ago. Probably collapsed or grown in by now.” The door jingled and he moved off to help the customers.

  Later, when Mason was working in the stock room and Beth’s phone was charged up, she checked her messages—and cringed as a series of texts loaded. One after another. All to Jonny.

  I said THANK YOU. The polite thing is to answer back.

  Where are you? Are you ignoring me?

  I need to ask you something.

  Did you lose your fucking phone?

  Okay, now you’re just being a dickhead.

  He’d never responded. Her words sat naked on the screen. Little green bubbles of disaster. She squeezed her eyes tight and shook her head. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  CHAPTER 24

  Beth needed something a little more sustaining than vodka. Walking into the store, she heard the rumble of loud engines and turned around. A few trucks, dirt bikes in the back, blew past with their music blaring. She waited until they had all gone. None of them were Jonny’s.

  “Going to the pit,” the cashier said when she asked.

  “Pit?”

  “Yeah, the old gravel pit. It’s a motocross track. They race every weekend.”

  Beth paid for her groceries with her crumpled tips and got the cashier to draw a map on the back of her receipt. She wouldn’t talk to Jonny. She just wanted to see him race.

  The road wound through stretches of dark forest with no houses in sight. She was beginning to think that she’d gotten lost when she came around a sharp corner and found trucks lined up and down the gravel road. Some were new, others old, with dented sides and huge meaty tires covered with dust. Several of them had trailers attached, currently empty. Guys milled about, but there were girls too. Bikini tops and jeans shorts.

  When she got out of the car, she heard the dirt bikes. They sounded like a thousand angry wasps, a powerful droning hum that filled her body with a strange anticipation. She walked to where a bunch of people were standing. A radio was playing country music. Some of the crowd had brought chairs and coolers, umbrellas for shade. She spotted a guy standing near a keg selling beer and used the last of her tips to buy one. She gulped the frothy, cold liquid as she pushed through the group of people and looked down into the pit. Ten motorbikes were going around in a circle, up and down hills, plumes of dirt chasing them like dragon’s breath.

  One rider was well in the lead, and when he soared over a big mound of dirt, he was so far in the air he was only holding on to the handlebar with one hand, his entire body out behind him, then somehow he got into position, the bike hit the ground, and he went right up the next bank.

  She gasped out loud. The girl next to her glanced over with a friendly smile. “Right?”

  “Who is that?”

  “Jonny Miller.” The girl sounded surprised, as though everyone knew his name, and turned to give Beth a longer look. Her eyes focused on the faint bruise on Beth’s temple and her eyebrows lifted. “Oh! You’re the new waitress. You’re staying at the lake campground, right? My older brother, Andy, he helped you…” She pointed at Beth’s head, then looked awkward.

  “Yep. That’s me.”

  “Cool.” The girl took a sip of her beer. “First time at the pit?”

  Beth nodded. “I didn’t know people rode like that.”

  “They’re not all that good. Jonny’s the best.” She pointed to the bikes trailing after him. “No one can catch him.” She looked excited, her cheeks flushed. “He knows tricks that only riders in the professional circuit can do. He could go pro, but he keeps turning them down.”

  “Why?”

  Her proud expression turned sad. “Because of Hailey McBride. Jonny won’t leave until her body’s found.” Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I forgot your sister…”

  “It’s okay. I know you weren’t being insensitive.” She watched Jonny for a moment. “It’s sad that he’s put his life on hold like that.”

  “Jonny feels like it was his fault because she’d snuck out to meet him at the lake, but she was always kind of wild and did her own thing. Living with the Iceman must have been a nightmare for her.” She glanced at her. “Guess you’ve met Vaughn.”

  “Unfortunately. Did you go to school with Hailey?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know her that well.” She shrugged. “She only hung out with Jonny.”

/>   “That must have been hard when he had girlfriends.”

  “He’s not the girlfriend type.”

  What did that mean? Did he sleep around with different girls all the time? He hadn’t seemed like a player to her, but maybe her radar was off. She was blinded by their connection.

  “I heard he was dating Shannon when she died.”

  The girl’s friendly smile disappeared, and her eyes narrowed. She stepped back. “I don’t know anything about that.” She pushed her way through the crowd.

  Beth’s eyes followed the girl’s pink tank top as she made her way down to the end of the track, where a cluster of guys stood around Jonny. She recognized Andy. Jonny had taken off his helmet and was wearing sunglasses, a black motorbike jacket, racing pants, and black boots. He was still astride his dirt bike, legs long on either side, one hand resting on the handlebar. She didn’t know anything about bikes, but his looked big and powerful.

  The girl was talking. They all turned to look up at Beth. She lifted her beer in a greeting. Jonny started his bike and rode off, dust following in a cloud. Was he really going to ignore her like that? Right to her face? He seemed to be heading behind the pit. Another road?

  She got in her car and drove around, spotted Jonny loading his bike into his truck. He’d taken his coat off and was just wearing a T-shirt and his racing pants. As she got out of her car, he lifted a beer out of a cooler behind him, pulled the tab, and took a long swallow.

  He sat on the tailgate. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy?”

  “I’m okay. I wanted to thank you for bringing my car.”

  “You came all the way out here to say that?”

  “No…” She looked around at the deserted road, the constant whine of dirt bikes still in the background. How was she going to phrase this? There wasn’t any easy way to ask someone if they were a liar. She met his eyes. Indigo blue in the sun, the rest of his face in shadow.