Dark Roads

by Chevy Stevens

  It had been a snowmobile that I’d heard. Not our imagined dirt bikes. My radio calls had gone through, crackling, disjointed, but enough, and he borrowed his dad’s snowmobile, rushing out to save us. When he got close, he’d heard Wolf howling. He’d taken us back to the cabin, wrapped me in blankets by the fire, then warmed me with compresses and broth. Wolf got the same treatment, including antibiotics. Jonny’s dad had a bottle for their farm animals.

  When Wolf and I were stronger, Jonny took us to his place. We built a bunker in his workshop, but we mostly stayed inside Jonny’s house, and hid if anyone showed up. Over the winter I helped Jonny fix bikes and we painted his helmet. Blue flames. We watched movies, played cards, and I checked on Cash through Lana’s Facebook page—she’d never set it to private. We were safe and warm, but I’d missed my mountain. My cabin. How could I leave?

  I rolled back onto my stomach and watched the campers from Alberta. When the last two stumbled to bed, I slid on a pair of leather gloves, took my wrench out of my backpack, and double-checked the knife in my calf holster. I left Wolf at the head of the trail guarding my mountain bike. He gave me a few complaining growls, but I didn’t want him to get hurt.

  I waited another ten minutes in the shadow behind their camper. The lights were off, blinds closed. No movement. Loud snoring. I slipped around to where they’d parked the dirt bikes. I had the bolt off and was beginning to remove the clutch lever when the camper door flung open and slammed against the side. I tugged the lever free and dropped to my stomach.

  A hulking shape was shining a flashlight around the site. His body was clear in the cast-off beam. Tall, with a shaved head, and a series of tattoos down both biceps. He would be violent if he caught me. He was searching for something on the picnic table—knocking over empty beer cans, letting out long burps. He picked up a cell phone. The bright screen lit up his face as he swiped at it roughly, muttering to himself.

  The glow disappeared. He’d put the phone away. The flashlight shone at a tree near him. His steps were heavy as he stumbled over to the edge of the site, unzipped his pants, and began to let out a loud stream of urine, while burping again. When he finished and was trying to zip his pants up, he dropped the flashlight. It shone in my direction like a compass arrow. I held my breath.

  He bent to pick up the flashlight, and for a moment it seemed as though he were turning back toward the camper, but he must have sensed me, or wanted to do a final check on his bike, because he spun around—and shone the light straight at me.

  I ducked, and, gripping the clutch lever, sprinted through the woods. The dense bush grabbed at me, blocked my way, sent me into dead ends. I had to zigzag. For a big drunk guy he was moving fast, boots thudding behind me, his breath huffing out in grunts like a bear.

  I glanced over my shoulder—and stepped into the stream, dried out except for the thick, tar-like sludge at the bottom. My foot sank. I lurched sideways and hit the ground, dropping the wrench and the lever. Before I could take a breath, the guy was on me. A hard punch to my guts, my lower back. Flipped over. A fist to the face—shock of pain, a rattle of teeth.

  Barking noises. He turned to look. Knee to his groin.

  The man grabbed a handful of mud and smashed it into my face, filling my mouth. I choked on the grime, trying to spit it out before it slid down my throat. Wolf was growling and attacking the man. He screamed and kicked out. Wolf yelped. The man stood to kick him again.

  I felt around in the mud, grabbed the wrench, and in one motion I leapt to my feet and clubbed him across the head. He grunted but didn’t go down. He knocked the wrench free of my hand. He was pulling his shoulder back, ready to punch. Wolf soared through the air and latched onto his arm. The man screamed, trying to shake him off as he spun around. I lifted a rock out of the mud and slammed it against the back of the man’s head. He fell to the ground. Wolf landed, still growling, twisting the man’s arm in his teeth. I pulled him away.

  I looked down at the man, faceup, the flashlight beside his open hand. I nudged his big body with my foot, bent over and listened. Breathing—and no blood on his skull. His shirt was ripped on his arm and Wolf had punctured the skin, but none of the wounds were gushing. I used the guy’s flashlight to find the wrench and lever. “Wolf, let’s go.”

  We ran back up along the creek. Each step jarred the breath out of my chest, my bruised ribs. My face felt swollen, my lip puffy. I tasted blood. He would guess that I was male, maybe young, but it was still a problem. He’d report the theft. He’d have dog bites.

  Beth’s phone vibrated in my pocket as I ran. Someone was calling her.

  CHAPTER 28

  Beth

  Beth startled awake at the sharp rap on her back window. She sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest, which was only covered by a thin tank top. She recognized the face peering at her. Thompson. Once he’d met her eyes, he averted his gaze like he was giving her privacy.

  “Can I talk to you?” he said through the window.

  She nodded and pulled her hoodie on before clambering out. She felt exposed in her yoga shorts, no makeup, messy hair. She self-consciously brushed strands away from her face.

  “Sorry to wake you,” Thompson said. “There was an incident at the campsite last night.”

  Beth froze. Had another girl been hurt? “What happened?”

  “A camper interrupted someone trying to steal their dirt bike.” He pointed toward the campers from Alberta. “A man was assaulted. Did you hear or see anything?”

  “No. I went to bed early.”

  “Okay.” He looked over her shoulder at the empty bottle of vodka, and the solitary cup. Party for one. “If you remember anything, drop by the station or call and ask for me.”

  “Sure.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile. Was this the moment she should just blurt out that she had found Hailey? She couldn’t do it.

  Thompson walked away with a small wave. She watched as he talked to the other campers, then she turned back to her site. She wanted to check her texts, and maybe set up a meeting with Jonny. But there was a problem. The phone wasn’t on her backseat. It wasn’t in the front either. She checked the floorboards, under the car, the picnic table, the tent, the dock, and the bathrooms. She’d had it before she went to bed, but she couldn’t remember after that.

  She pressed her hands against the side of her head, squeezing at the headache and trying to think. There had been a thief at the campground, and now her phone was gone. She dropped her hands and scanned the ground, all the way to the shoreline, and around the trees at the perimeter. Dog paw prints, and beside them, boot treads. Hailey.

  When Beth walked into the diner thirty minutes later—showered and sober—Mason was putting cash into the register. He glanced over with a smile. His brown eyes were twinkling, radiating warmth that she didn’t feel she deserved. Hailey’s secret weighed heavy in her.

  “You ready for the rush?”

  “You bet. I just have to slip into the bathroom first.” She washed her hands, fussed with her hair, and applied lipstick, while glancing around for a hidden camera. She fixed her shoe strap and looked under the toilet. She refilled the toilet paper, grabbed a paper towel, and wiped around the mirror, the window. No strange bumps or drilled holes. No objects out of place.

  How was Vaughn getting away with this?

  One hour into her shift, and her edginess hadn’t eased. She was watching for Jonny or any of his friends, watching for Thompson and Vaughn. Each time the door opened, her head snapped around and her heart kicked into high gear. She was forgetting orders, spilling water.

  Mason stopped her behind the counter, his large hand on her arm. Warm and solid. She wanted to lean into him. “You okay?”

  “I’m sorry. There was a robbery at the campground. It was close to my site.”

  “Damn, kid. I didn’t know. Why don’t you take a quick break.”

  “You sure? It’s busy.”

  “I have to protect my customers.” He smiled. “Go on. Step out into
the alley and get some fresh air. That’s an order.”

  She gave an apologetic laugh and saluted him on her way outside. She propped herself against the brick wall and studied the dumpster. Did Hailey scrounge for scraps? She’d survived for a year. Beth thought about all the jars of vegetables and fruit she’d seen at Jonny’s house. She’d teased him about his homemaking skills. Now she realized he’d been doing it out of necessity.

  Male voices were coming down the sidewalk. Beth watched the entrance to the alley and startled when Jonny, with his friends, crossed in front.

  “Hey!” she shouted, and he spun around. He made a motion to the other guys, then walked down the alley toward her, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He moved casually, his legs loose, a soft breeze blowing his long, surfer bangs off his forehead, showing his eyes. He had a great face. A wonderfully, perfect, lying face. She wanted to punch him.

  “What are you doing back here?” He leaned against the wall beside her.

  “I’m on a break.” She noticed the damp hairs around his neck and remembered when they’d showered together at his house. He’d washed her hair, running his fingers through each strand, kissing her under the rush of water. It couldn’t have all been a lie.

  “I called you last night,” he said. “Texted you this morning too.”

  “I didn’t get it. I can’t find my phone.”

  “You need a cell out there. It’s not safe.”

  “I think it was stolen.” His concern made her angry again. He knew Vaughn might be a killer and he never told her. She wanted to shout at him, but she wasn’t sure how to tell him that she knew his secret. She wanted to delay. “Did you hear about the robbery at the campsite?”

  “Yeah.” He snorted. “Can’t wait for Vaughn to blame me.”

  “Where were you?”

  He frowned, shot her an annoyed glance. “At home. I told you I needed some time.”

  Yeah. Time to grieve over Hailey’s supposed death.

  “Well, while you were thinking, I hiked up the mountain. I was looking for the old miner’s cabin, but I found a bigger surprise.”

  “What are you talking about?” He pushed himself away from the wall.

  “Hailey.”

  “That’s impossible.” He was staring at her like she’d lost her mind. Of course he was going to deny it. He didn’t trust her, didn’t really know her, but her anger was turning to rage.

  “She told me about Vaughn. I know you’ve been helping her.”

  The fear went out of his eyes and now he looked pissed off. “Hailey disappeared.”

  “Stop it. I know, okay? I won’t tell anyone.”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  “It was my sister who was murdered, remember?”

  “Go back to Vancouver before you get hurt. Face up to your parents.”

  Rage, thick and bitter, coated her throat. He was using what she’d said in the hospital. Twisting the knife. “It’s not me you’re worried about—it’s her.”

  He held her eyes, and for a moment she thought he was going to keep pretending that Hailey was dead, then he looked away from her.

  “Don’t make me choose.”

  “I’m not making you do anything.” But it stung, mostly because she already knew who he would pick, and why wouldn’t he? Hailey was his best friend. He’d proven that he would do anything for her. “Did you help me because you wanted to make sure I couldn’t find her? Is that what it was all about? You kept throwing me off track.”

  He met her eyes. Would he admit it now? Would he say Hailey’s name?

  “That’s not what happened. I saw you, walking into the motel. I thought … you’re so beautiful. I wanted to stop and talk to you, but I didn’t want you to think I was a creep. I didn’t know you were the new waitress that all the guys were talking about until I saw you in the diner.”

  She remembered that flare of recognition she’d seen in his eyes when she’d almost dropped her tray on him. That connection. She wasn’t wrong. There was something between them.

  “Can you come to the lake tonight? It’s safer to talk there.”

  “I’m working late. My dad’s building a new barn.”

  “Whenever. Just come to the campsite. You owe me an explanation.”

  He took off his cap and ran his hands over his hair, agitated. “Fine.” He spun around and left the alley, turning away from the diner. Was he going to find Hailey? What other secrets did they share? She listened until Jonny’s loud truck drove away, then hurried into the diner.

  * * *

  Jonny’s friends had ordered when she was outside, and now she had to bring them their food. She wondered what he had told them about his sudden departure. She recognized Andy, who’d helped her twice at the campsite now. She set the plates of eggs and bacon in front of him and his friends.

  “Thanks for rescuing me the other day.”

  “Can’t ignore a damsel in distress.” Andy smiled. The other two guys dug into their meals, but she could feel them watching. “Come by our site next weekend. Have a beer.”

  The door opened behind her and a rush of warm air hit her legs. Heavy footsteps, then, before she could turn around, Vaughn’s hand clamped down on Andy’s shoulder.

  “Are you giving this young lady a hard time?”

  The smile disappeared off Andy’s face. “No, sir.” He stared at his plate and mouthed, Fuck you. It was barely on his lips, but Vaughn must have caught something, because his fingers curled into Andy’s shoulder hard enough to make him flinch.

  After a beat, Vaughn removed his hand and turned to Beth.

  “Coffee when you get a chance, please.”

  Vaughn was staring at her with those cold eyes, but she couldn’t make her mouth work. She wondered if she might faint. Hailey was alive. He had photos of girls. Amber. He had spied on her, stalked her. Hailey thought he was the killer. Vaughn frowned, suspicious of her silence.

  “Of course.” She led him over to a table, swallowing hard and trying to get her breath under control. She had to get herself together or he was going to realize that she was terrified of him. She grabbed the carafe and held her arm stiff to stop the shaking while she poured.

  “Thompson said you didn’t hear the robbery.” He tore open a sugar packet, dumped it into his cup. “Must have been a lot of shouting. The victim got hit pretty hard.”

  “Didn’t hear a thing. Want the usual eggs?”

  “Sounds good.” He glanced back at the guys. None of them looked in his direction, but their voices were lowered, and she knew they could sense his attention. Andy scowled under his cap.

  “You still hanging out with Jonny?” Vaughn looked back up at her.

  “No,” she blurted, then she felt another jolt of fear. Had he been watching the diner? He might have seen Jonny go into the alley. “We had a falling-out.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “You’re right. He’s not the kind of guy I want to be involved with. We’re just really different. Anyway, you didn’t come in here to listen to my problems.”

  “Hey, the police are here to serve, and you’re one of us now. I dropped by the campsite yesterday to check on you…” Another shiver went up her spine. He had been looking for her.

  “I went into town for groceries. Probably just missed you.”

  “Hm.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Kitchen’s getting busy. I’d better get that order in.” She moved away before he could ask anything else.

  While she served him and the other customers, she made sure to be in a rush each time she stopped at his table. After he was done eating, he asked for another coffee, but he must have gotten a radio call, because he tossed down some money and left before she could bring it.

  She watched his white truck pull out of the parking lot, then made sure all her tables were taken care of and walked over to Andy. If Jonny wouldn’t tell her what she needed to know, then she was going to have to get creative. She dropped i
nto the empty seat near Andy and slid their bill to him.

  “I need to ask you something.”

  He handed her a twenty, eyeing her from the side. “What’s up?”

  “I want to buy some weed.”

  “Just like that, huh? Vaughn’s got his eye on you.”

  “I know.” She made a disgusted face. “He’s an asshole.”

  Andy took the last gulp of his coffee. “Like I said. Not a good idea.”

  “I’m going through a shitty time, okay? I need something to help me sleep, and I heard there’s a girl who sells. Emily. How can I find her?”

  “You seem to know a lot.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you asking me?”

  “I don’t know where she lives.”

  He glanced at the other two guys. One gave him a shrug, and the other was texting.

  “She works at the blueberry farm. She’s there every day—her grandparents own it.” Andy stood and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. She caught the scent of woodsmoke and thought about Jonny. She hoped Vaughn wasn’t out looking for him. Andy stayed behind while his friends pushed out the door. When she met his eyes, he looked worried.

  “Don’t get Jonny in shit. He’s had enough trouble.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good.” He picked up his keys and joined the others in the parking lot. Their big trucks roared away. Andy had his phone to his ear. She wondered who he was calling.

  * * *

  The air had cooled with the sun drifting behind a cloud, but the pavement was still hot as she made her way to her car, first checking the parking lot for Vaughn. A quick Google search, and she had the address of the only blueberry farm in Cold Creek. They were closing soon.

  Beth turned off a dusty country road at a white sign with a cluster of blueberries painted on it and a cheerful YOU PICK!

  The shop was pale blue with white shuttered windows, and the door gave a little tinkle as she pushed it open. Behind the counter, a girl was tying ribbons on baskets of blueberries. Products were displayed on wood shelves around the shop—jams, syrups, blueberry-patterned teacups. Emily was wearing a purple tank top with the same logo that had been on the sign. Beth had expected her to look harder. Maybe bleached blond, arm tattoos, and a lot of makeup, but if this was Emily, she was petite and dark-haired, with a posture like a ballerina’s. Graceful arms.