Page 70 of Dark Roads
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 withJonny. 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 ayear. 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,lyingface. 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.”
