Page 8 of Road Trip With the Ghost Hunter
“Please, tell me you believe the world is round.” My insides clenched, waiting. Wouldn’t that just be a hoot? Trapped in a car with not only a potential killer who’s planning on dumping my lifeless body in middle America somewhere, but a flat-earther too. And just when I was starting to like him.
Lucas’s frosted blue eyes narrowed in my direction.
Uh-oh.
“Was that a serious question?” he asked.
“Dead serious.” Oops. “I mean, not dead. You know. We don’t want to think of such things. Happy things. Two people breathing at the end of this, things.”
His gaze flicked back to me. I couldn’t get what he was thinking. Oh, no. Did I remind him of his murder-y plans?
Looking back on the road, he started, “Are we still there?”
“There?”
“At the place where you fear I’m collecting hitchhikers and offing them?”
“Offing them?” I asked, incredulously.
“Sounds better than murdering,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“I’m a single woman who got in a car with a stranger for a twenty-hour road trip. I’d be worried if I wasn’t thinking about the possibility.”
“Fair,” he replied. After we both sat in silence for a minute, he continued. “I’m sorry I didn’t coordinate this from the beginning. Do you have someone you can share your location with? Also, you can take my picture and also my license and send it to them so someone knows where and who you’re with.”
Wow. Okay. That’s actually a really smart idea. And sweet too.Damn it.
Also…I didn’t really have anyone. I could maybe text my ex-coworker, Sasha but she gave up getting unanswered texts three months ago. I opened my mouth to mention someone, but closed it again. Not wanting to sound alone and pathetic, I offered, “Benny already knows I’m with you. He knows what you look like and your name. That takes care of that.”
I turned in my seat to face the front again and continued to stress-eat my sour gummies. I felt Lucas’s stare studying me, but refused to look. In the couple of hours I’ve known him, I already knew he was smart. He was attentive. He listened and saw behind the lines. And he was graciously ignoring the clear signs I poorly tried to conceal that I, in fact, did not have anyone to call and let know where and who I was with.
A deep sadness settled in my gut. Instinctively, my hand pressed into my stomach as I took a slow, deep breath. The last six months played in my mind. The last three months, I was by her side when I wasn’t working, ignoring the world, keeping my head down, counting the mindless hours before I could rush home and take care of her, to the past three months after losing her.
I’d been bombarded with funeral arrangements, working with the state for the official death certificate, the insurance for end-of-life paperwork, insurance claims, needing to sell the house—all the dotted I’s and crossed T’s. And then nights. My least favorite; when everything grew too still, too quiet. Ironically, that was when the house was the loudest, creaking, shifting, groaning in the dead of my insomnia.
The few acquaintances I had, I pushed away. I was too busy, which made it easy enough. Then, two weeks ago, it all just stopped. Everything that needed taking care of was done. I was left to move on with life. So, naturally, I chose to run away.
“Hungry?” Lucas said after minutes of silence. Not even the radio was on.
Yes, my tummy was dancing with sour gummies, but hot, salty food sounded really good right now.
“I could eat,” I said, casually.
“First stop,” he said, pulling into a place called Kathy’s Diner.
“Where are we?” I asked as Lucas pulled into a spot around the corner. I looked around, noticing we were in some small town but damn, this place was packed.
Once parked, Lucas pulled out the large paper map, which was wild to me. We’d already had this debate earlier. It seemed archaic considering technology. I mean, hello, cell phone and map apps. But I relented when he made a good point.
“Li, reception is spotty in most of these rural spots and highways. GPS won’t always be reliable. And the last thing you want is to be lost and trapped on a dark highway in the middle of nowhere.”
It was annoying that not only was he ridiculously gorgeous, like, a Viking god type presence gorgeous, he was smart, and practical. And he found my reluctant acceptance of this with a roll of my eyes cute, apparently. Like, flat out, mumbled, cute with a chuckle.
Trouble.
“Heartstone, Missouri,” Lucas grumbled as he marked something on the map. “Checked online, and reviews seem great.”
I looked at the old Americana diner on the outside. Through the window, I could already tell we were about to be transported to the past. The moment we stepped inside, the deep-fried savory scents hit, but not in that gross, greasy way. It trapped your senses and pulled you in, making my stomach riot in demand for whatever lingered in the air.
