collecting honeysuckle plants and swearing we’d keep them alive long enough to replant them at home and protect them from the scorching Phoenix sun.
I drove this stretch of road less than a year ago in Mom’s car. Only that time I was alone. I traveled I-17 for nearly two hours—up the switchbacks to the top of a hill called Cleopatra, and straight to the edge of a town that should have burned down three different times but didn’t. I headed for the state park with its museum dedicated to the mining industry, and on to the stamp mill where they used to crush the ore they’d dug from the mountains. That’s where the Yavapai County sheriff found Nell hanging from a tree by her big toe. Three weeks later, the old sheriff decided to hang up his gun and retire, leaving her case unsolved.
I stare at the dotted lines separating the traffic lanes until they start to look like chalk outlines of her body. When I look at the clock on the dash, I’m stunned to find that we’ve been driving for nearly an hour.
“So . . . where did you say you were taking me?”
“I didn’t,” Evan says, smiling slyly.
“Well, can I at least have a hint? Should I have packed an overnight bag or something?” As soon as the question is out of my mouth, I realize the implication and immediately envision any scenario in which Evan and I would be spending the night together. Now I want to hide in the trunk along with those mystery packets that Evan threw back there at the rest stop. I’m guessing Evan is imagining the same thing because he gets super quiet, then starts messing with the radio, complaining about the static even though there’s no static I can hear.
“It’s, well, I wanted it to be a surprise. We’re still about an hour away—I didn’t quite realize how far it was. It’s just that you said you’re into scary movies, and I thought you might like this as a . . . well, a field trip . . . like a date or something.”
My face is so hot, I am sure it’s going to catch fire despite the arctic chill of his freakishly cool AC.
“I didn’t mean to ruin the surprise,” I say, not worried about the surprise at all. Did he just say “date”?
“I thought it would be fun. It’s supposed to be, like, the most haunted place in the West.”
My stomach falls.
“What?”
“It’s this town I read about. They say it’s the . . . what’s theword they used? The most something place in the West.”
My palms are sweating. I can’t feel my fingers.
“Wickedest?”
“Yeah! How’d you know that? Oh man, I guess I’m not that original,” Evan frowns a little. He looks embarrassed. If I look as horrified as I feel, I can pretty much guarantee that this is the last time Evan Gold will take me anywhere.
“Evan, you’ve got to pull over,” I say, not really knowing why until I say it. All of a sudden, I think I might pass out.
“Damn, that lame, huh?” he tries to kid, but I can’t focus on anything except trying not to keel over in his car.
“Seriously, Evan. You need to pull over.”
“Okay,” he obliges. He sounds really worried. We’re conveniently approaching an off-ramp, the first in a series of exits leading to Black Canyon City. Evan’s driving faster than he was on the freeway, and my stomach is lurching trying to fight the momentum of the car.
He makes a quick right, then another immediate right into a parking lot with several motorcycles lined up next to a restaurant advertising “Fresh Homemade Pies Daily!”
Sliding into an open space in the dirt lot, Evan throws the car into park and unhinges his seat belt in one fluid motion, reaching for my shoulder with so much concern that all I can do is put my head between my knees.
After a few minutes of staring at the pores on my legs, I bring myself back to an upright position, wondering how long I can avoid Evan’s worried gaze. From what I can see out of the corner of my eye, it’s pretty intense.
“So, do you want to start or