Dark Roads

by Chevy Stevens

  “I’m sorry about the texts last night.”

  He met her eyes. “I didn’t answer the first one because I was working. When I got to my phone later, you’d fired off those others. It didn’t seem like a good time to talk.”

  She looked down at her dusty toes in the flip-flops. “I was upset. Turns out painkillers and booze don’t mix. Who knew?” She cracked a smile, but he didn’t smile back.

  “Why were you upset?”

  “Vaughn showed up at the hospital. He said you dated Shannon Emerson.” She searched his face for his reaction.

  He sighed, shook his head with disappointment. “We went out a couple of times, but she liked one of my friends better. They were together at the party.”

  “You must have been angry.”

  “Not at her, but I was pissed at my friend. We argued, I got drunk and passed out in the front seat of my truck.” He put a hand on his heart. “I’ve got witnesses.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t usually hand out a list of girls I’ve slept with. But now that I know you’re investigating me, I’ll make sure to keep you in the loop, okay?” His tone was sarcastic, but there was hurt in his eyes, and in the way his chin lifted. Then anger flared in the blue depths. Her relief had shown on her face and made her initial doubt that much worse.

  “I don’t think you’re the killer.”

  “Am I supposed to feel good about that?”

  “I’m sorry, okay? Vaughn just has this way of messing with my head.”

  “You’re kind of good at that yourself.”

  She flinched. He had a point, which stung. “That morning at the campsite, I didn’t mean for it to sound like I was just using you for a fun distraction. I like you, but I panicked.”

  “No big deal. You’re leaving at the end of the summer anyway, right? I don’t want to get involved with someone else I’m going to lose.”

  Someone he was going to lose. She heard the truth in the steeled edge of his voice. He liked her, and it scared him. She wished she were braver, wished she could tell him that he was the first guy she’d ever stayed the entire night with—she always left after, had treated sex like a trip to the doctor. A necessary requirement for occasional physical relief of tension and stress.

  “I just … I don’t know what I want.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I got that.” He sighed and swung himself back up into the truck, lifted a tool out of a metal box, and began wrenching something on the bike wheel.

  “Is it true that sponsors want you to race for them?” He flicked a glance at her but kept working. She had probably earned that, should leave well enough alone. Still, she had to ask.

  “Are you staying in Cold Creek because of Hailey?”

  He stood up, spinning the wrench in his hand as he watched her for a moment.

  “You want to go for a ride?”

  * * *

  They rode up the mountain together in his truck, traveling logging roads that looked as though they’d been washed out by decades of winter rivers, with long gouges cutting across them, potholes so deep Beth heard the bumper scrape. Jonny’s expression was calm, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel, tapping out a beat along with the radio.

  She took sips of the beer he’d given her and wondered why she was so attracted to him. Was it the mystery? Or the thrill of doing something out of her comfort zone? No, it was more than that. There was a goodness about him that she wanted to drink in. The kind of guy who would run into a burning building for you, or dive underwater. Who stayed loyal to his friend, even though she was never coming back. Beth rubbed her hands down her legs, smoothing out goose bumps.

  “You scared?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Nothing to worry about. You’re with me.” He gave her one of his sideways smiles that plucked at her stomach muscles. The truck slowed and he pulled into a clearing.

  He handed her an extra helmet—a smaller one. She didn’t ask who it belonged to, not even when his hands grazed the skin on her neck as he checked that she had it on tight.

  When he rolled the dirt bike down the ramp from his truck and motioned for her to climb on behind him, she hesitated. Jonny’s eyes met hers through the visor on his helmet with a teasing glint. No way was she going to be the girl who chickened out. She slid her leg over the seat, rested her thighs on either side of his hips, and wrapped her arms around his hard stomach.

  He put the bike in gear and rode down the center of the road. He was fast, so fast she felt the wind steal the breath out of her throat and her heart press back against her ribs, but she wasn’t scared anymore. His body was warm, his shoulder blades flexing. He tapped her leg, showing her how to shift her weight when he turned. She squeezed her thighs tight when the bike skidded around a curve in the road. He gave it more gas and they surged forward. The bike straightened.

  Over his shoulder he yelled, “When in doubt, throttle it out.”

  “What does that mean?” she yelled back.

  “Sometimes when you’re losing it, you just have to power up and go with it.”

  She pressed her cheek to his back and closed her eyes, let the roar of the engine and the speed wipe everything away. It was a rush, the spike of fear, the thrum through her body.

  They rode for an hour, until she stopped gripping him so hard and started admiring the view. The woods were cooler than in town, and the sides of the logging roads were covered in dusty ferns, bushes, and wild huckleberries. The sun was dappled through the trees on the road in front of them, opening to the occasional logged area with fallen timber, stumps bleached white.

  They circled back to his truck. He parked the bike and she climbed off, wobbling on her legs with a laugh. She pulled off the helmet, ran her hands through her messy hair, feeling shy as he watched her. She didn’t want the day to end but didn’t know how to keep it going.

  “We should have brought something to eat. I’m starving…”

  “We can get your car, then I’ll make you dinner at my place,” he said. “What do you think?”

  She smiled. “Perfect.”

  * * *

  His house was a surprise, with white clapboard, a front porch with a set of sky-blue Adirondack chairs. The lawn was mowed, the garden beds in front of the house weeded and tidy. The vegetable garden was organized in neat lines, some plants tied to stakes. She imagined him kneeling with his hands in the soil, pulling out fresh carrots or potatoes. She’d thought him a boy, but he was more settled and grown up than most men she knew back in the city.

  Each corner of the house had a security camera, and one above the door. She turned her head, spotted another one on the workshop. Dirt bikes were expensive, and he probably had tools too, but she wondered if the security had more to do with Vaughn than with possible thefts.

  She followed him inside, padded across oak floors sanded down to a soft finish. His furniture was simple, a cedar-slab coffee table, a worn leather couch, and a 1950s-style kitchen table with aluminum legs and a sparkled orange Formica top. He saw her smile and shrugged.

  “It was my grandma’s.”

  So were his avocado-green cups and plates, she learned as they ate outside on the porch. The evening light bathed their bare feet with gold where they were kicked up together on the railing. Once in a while the side of his foot drifted against hers. She never moved away.

  After they cleaned up, working together in a comfortable silence, he took her to his garage and pulled out a kid’s dirt bike that he’d fixed for a neighbor. She laughed when he said he was going to teach her how to ride, but she stopped when he held out the helmet.

  “What? You don’t think you can do it?”

  She snatched the helmet from his hands. “How do you start this thing?”

  * * *

  She lay on her side, head in the crook of his arm, her back against his chest. The steady thump of his heart reverberated through her. The night before it had been dark when they stumbled to his room, her ha
nd in his, neither of them talking, and then only murmurs under the blankets, the whisper of his husky voice.

  He shifted behind her and yawned. They would have to speak soon, acknowledge what had happened, and what it meant, but she didn’t know. Was she really going to stick around in this town? Was she going back to school? Could she be the kind of girl who changed her life for a guy? She was here to find closure, not a boyfriend, but judging by the way Jonny’s hand was drifting down her arm, settling softly on her hip, the night meant something to him.

  His bedroom had been another surprise. No posters of dirt bikes or naked girls. No empty beer bottles on the nightstand. Instead there was a map of the world with colored pins—places she assumed he wanted to visit—and travel posters. He also had a few tastefully framed photos. One was of him fishing in the river, his head thrown back in a laugh. She was almost sure Hailey had taken the photo but didn’t want to ask. There was a photo of the two of them, their faces tight together and turned upward. A selfie. They looked tanned and happy, with the hint of bare shoulders and water in the background. The lake.

  “I’ll get us some coffees.” He rolled off his side of the bed. She heard him moving around behind her, opening drawers, closing them softly.

  He walked across the room in long strides. She peeked at him over her arm, which was tucked partway under the pillow. The sheets were lemon-scented and crisp-white. She wondered if he washed them in preparation for having a girl over for the weekend. Maybe one had already stayed the night this week. She pushed away the thought.

  Now he was pulling on his jeans, tugging them up his long, muscled legs. She glanced away. The drawer on his side table was half open. She moved closer to the side of the bed to close it—and paused when she noticed a black cell phone. His iPhone, with the blue case, was sitting on top of the table. She looked up at him.

  “You have two phones?”

  He followed her gaze. “It’s dead. Me and Hailey had prepaid phones so she could call when things were bad with Vaughn.” He stepped closer to the drawer and picked up the phone, staring at it. “I forgot it was in there. I’ll charge it up and give it to one of my brothers.”

  “Hailey had to sneak around that much?”

  “Vaughn is an asshole. That’s why I told you to stay away from him.”

  “Did he hurt her?”

  “He got rough a few times.”

  She held his gaze. Maybe he was lying. Maybe he was a drug dealer and needed a burner phone, but he was obviously upset. His mouth was tense and his eyes glassy.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded and blinked a few times. “You take sugar and cream, right?”

  “Yeah.” After Jonny left the room, Beth rolled into a sitting position with the sheet around her body, running her hands through her hair to untangle it. She glanced at the door, then looked up at the selfie on the wall, focusing in on Hailey’s bright green eyes, her pretty smile. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Jonny to know that Hailey’s body was still out there somewhere. Alone. If Beth didn’t know where Amber was, she’d lose her mind.

  “I wish I could find you for him,” she whispered into the empty room.

  CHAPTER 25

  Jonny seemed fine for the rest of the morning, while they drank their coffees in bed, while they showered together, while he made bacon and eggs, but that was the crux of it all. He seemed fine. Beth had done enough pretending in her own life to know when someone was faking.

  Their footsteps crunched on the gravel as he walked her out to her car. She thought they would kiss, but he pulled her in for a quick hug that ended with a vague, “Text you later?”

  For a moment she wondered if he was being distant because he still thought she didn’t know what she wanted, but when she looked in his eyes all she saw was sadness.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Seeing the phone…” He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, showing a strip of golden brown skin. Just last night she’d run her fingers along that line. So intimate. So close.

  “Brought back memories,” she said.

  “It just hits me hard sometimes,” he said. “And I need a couple of days to get my head together, you know? But I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get rid of you.”

  “I don’t think that. We’ll just play it by ear, okay?”

  “Cool.” He stepped back, giving her room to open her door.

  She smiled and gave a wave as she drove off. When she was out of sight, she dropped the smile and frowned at the road. What did he mean, cool? It was what Beth had wanted. Noncommittal. But now that Jonny had denied trying to get rid of her, she was starting to wonder if that was exactly what he was trying to do. She couldn’t follow her own thoughts anymore.

  She turned the radio up. Fine. If he wanted space, she’d give him space.

  * * *

  Beth stacked dirty dishes into the plastic tub, wishing the day was over already so she could get some sleep at the campsite. She was thinking about her conversation with Jonny. What would it be like to be a suspect in the disappearance of your best friend? He’d called Hailey his voice in the dark. Beth smiled, remembering the memory he had shared—Hailey dragging him out of the silver mine.

  Beth hoisted the tub onto one hip and glanced up at the photo of the miner’s cabin. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that the dog belonged to someone living on the mountain. They could be using that cabin. Hailey and Jonny had found the mine a few years ago. It couldn’t be that hard to locate the cabin. Tomorrow was her day off. She could look for it then. Beth thought about texting Jonny for more details, but he’d made it clear he needed space.

  After work, she drove to the small local history museum and pretended to look around. The clerk didn’t know anything about abandoned mines. Unfortunately, he knew a lot about logging, and the declining forestry industry. When Beth finally escaped, she found a coffee shop with Wi-Fi and Googled on her phone until her eyes burned. There was one reference to a silver mine in an ancient newspaper article, the wording stiff and overly formal, and the description of the topography was confusing—Black Bear Bluffs, the Deep River Pools, Burnt Fir Tree, Horseshoe Trail, and comments like, “along a pine-edged meadow of wildflowers.”

  She used the library’s printer to make copies of some satellite maps and a few rough drawings of decommissioned logging roads.

  That night she sat by a lantern and pieced the maps together. The Black Bear Bluffs were a rock formation that ran perpendicular to the river, starting from its widest point. She guessed those were the “deep pools” the newspaper had mentioned. Maybe the Horseshoe Trail led from the river to the cabin, which had to be built into those rocks. It didn’t look far away, but she’d learned during her last hike that the forest could be deceiving. She needed to be prepared.

  Jonny texted at ten. The chirp surprised her as she dozed in the backseat of her car.

  Long day, heading to sleep, hope you’re okay.

  She read over his message a few times, but she wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer. He hadn’t phrased it like a real question. Was he checking in out of politeness? Before she could overthink it, she tapped out, I’m fine Someone kept me up late last night so I’m going to bed too!

  She waited for a few minutes, but he didn’t text back.

  * * *

  In the morning she made herself choke down some mushy oatmeal. Then she coated herself with bug spray and slid her feet into cotton socks. Loose-fitting hiking pants would protect her legs, and a long-sleeved shirt would cover her arms. She pulled her ponytail through a baseball cap. Two bottles of water went into her backpack. Sunscreen. Plus an emergency blanket. She attached bear bells to the straps and hung a whistle around her neck. The handgun she tucked into the side pouch and practiced pulling it out, but felt silly, like she was playing at being a cop.

  She drove her car up the logging roads until they got too narrow and rough, then she parked and started walking—following the map she’d made. The bush w
as thicker than she expected, and the terrain steep. Her quads and hamstrings burned from the strain. After an hour of hard hiking, she was down to her sports bra—the shirt tied around her waist—and she’d unzipped the bottom half of the pants, so they made shorts. The air smelled sooty from forest fires, black smoke blowing west. It gave the sky a heavy feeling and muffled the woods.

  The sun rose higher. She’d been following the river for what seemed like miles on an overgrown logging road that ran above it when she noticed a natural dam. The fallen trees were old, the wood long grayed, forest debris crammed against them. Ferns and huckleberry bushes grew out of the mossy, rotten parts. She pulled out her binoculars. The curve of the river matched the area she had marked on her map, but there were probably a thousand bends to this river. Still, it was worth a second look.

  Nearby she found a narrow deer trail that cut through the brush. She crawled under logs, and picked her way through the forest, grasping at roots and branches on the steep bank. When she reached the bottom, she quickened her pace alongside the shore, leaping from rock to rock, until she found a shallow area. She waded to the other side, and narrowed her eyes at some rock cliffs that jutted out over the river upstream. They could be the start of the Black Bear Bluffs, but how was she going to get to them? The shore ended, and the dirt bank rose straight from the water. She wasn’t risking another fall. She’d look for another away around.

  She turned and headed into the woods. She kept straight until she saw a way through the trees to the north. It should curve toward the bluffs. The trees were sparser now and there wasn’t as much underbrush to force herself through, but she stumbled when her foot caught on a root. She glanced down. Something pale and long. Bones, and there were more scattered around. She froze. Human? She forced herself to look closer. She saw a rib cage, not big, but she couldn’t tell with the other pieces. Moss had grown over some, and dirt obscured the rest. There was no skull.