CHAPTER TWO

Jake ran his fingers across the cold steel rails of the roller coaster track—nicknamed Death Trap ever since the accident—with a sense of awe. Despite the inevitable rusted surface, every curve, banked turn, and weld had been perfectly engineered. A work of art.

How had such a creation killed all those people?

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were infatuated with an amusement park ride,” Amanda said with the mischievous smile he’d loved the minute he met her.

“Just impressed how the men who designed this coaster were ahead of their time,” he said.

“Yeah? How so?”

That’s one of the things he enjoyed about Amanda. She paid attention, revealing genuine interest in him and his work. Not only did she ask relevant questions, she had the brains to understand. Most women’s eyes would glaze over, but not Amanda’s. Her insight and natural curiosity prompted him to dig deeper. The old saying was cliché but true. She made him a better man.

Jake gripped the running rails, tried to shake them. No movement. Even after being left to rot, the structure remained intact.

“They incorporated everything. Velocity, wind patterns, centrifugal force, and even gravity for every loop, twist, and turn.”

“What about safety?” she asked.

He walked under and around one of the elevated curves, admiring every angle. “That’s the strange part. A coaster designed this well shouldn’t have had any problems.”

Amanda reached out, placed a perfectly manicured hand on the steel tracks. “Seems strong, but didn’t you tell me this coaster flew off the tracks one day? Literally?”

He smiled at the long-haired beauty who asked the million-dollar question. “Yep, but it makes no sense. Everything was top notch. To this day, I don’t understand it. That’s the point of publishing my article.”

“Did the lawyers or insurance people ever find out what happened?” she asked.

“No. They deemed it a freak accident. The park eventually opened as planned, but no one came, especially after people nicknamed the ride Death Trap.”

“Sad. That’s why the place became abandoned,” she whispered.

“Yep.” He stared upward at the coaster silhouetted against the sky. “The company shut it down. Place has been abandoned for over a decade.”

She put her hand to her forehead, attempting to block the early evening sun threatening to burn off the fog. “I’ll bet you loved erector sets when you were a kid.”

He turned and winked at her. “How’d you guess?”

The color rose in her pale cheeks, which matched her red lips. “You’re an open book.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Women in his past never thought so. They complained he didn’t have enough mystery, enough imagination to surprise them with unique dates. What was so wrong with dinner and a movie? A week in an amusement park? Amanda actually seemed to enjoy his presence, and she blushed sweetly whenever he paid her a compliment.

Amanda smiled. “For me, yes. I like being able to read your moods.”

“Glad it works for you,” he said, slowly turning his attention back to the coaster so she wouldn’t see him blush. She paid him compliments too, often without realizing it.

Things had been good with Amanda in the last month. Though admittedly, he woke up every morning wondering how he’d managed to land someone so beautiful. Her curly locks framed her angular face, and she had the biggest hazel eyes he’d ever seen. On occasion, they turned the brightest shade of green, changing with her moods.

They’d met by sheer chance. She’d attended a music documentary showing at The Cine—the indie cinema in Athens, Georgia—and he’d been there with his boss. They’d both stayed for the Q&A sessions after, and she’d made it a point to say hello. And he hoped they never said good-bye…

“Jake?” she said, knocking him from his reverie.

“Sorry. What?”

Her eyes were rounder than normal, her pupils enlarged. “I asked if you heard that.”

“Heard what?”

Slowly, she turned her head to the right, toward the House of Mirrors. “That.”

His gaze followed where she looked, but he didn’t hear anything except the chirping cicadas and frogs calling out their mating sounds.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I thought I heard a scream.”

He darted his gaze left and right, using his military training to look and listen for any semblance of an intruder. Nothing.

Taking her hand, he said, “C’mon. It’s probably just the eerie atmosphere that has you spooked.”

“There it is again! Please, can we go to the inn now?”

He bit his lip. “No one else is here, Amanda. We’re fine, and we have permission to be here. We aren’t trespassing.”

She crossed her arms. “It’s getting late in the day. Can’t we come back tomorrow?”

“You really want to go, now?”

Clutching the amulet around her neck, she nodded over and over. “Yes. Now.”

He opened his mouth, fully ready with a slew of arguments. How abandoned places like this park often played with the imagination, how her urgent need to leave made no sense, how there were no such things as ghosts. She was a grown woman and should know that.

And yet, her trembling voice silenced every ounce of logic in his arsenal. Instead, a wave of empathy flowed through his veins.

“Okay, hon.” He leaned in, clasped her hand. “We’ll go.”

“I appreciate it,” she said. The gleam reappeared in her eyes, the corners of her lips curled into a smile. “Besides, after today’s long car ride, I’m ready to chill.”

He nodded. “We’ll get set up at the Abandon Inn, relax, then come back here tomorrow when we’re both fully rested.”

“Thanks.”

As he drove away from the park, he wondered if she would be better tomorrow. Maybe with a good night’s sleep, she’d be less prone to superstition and ridiculous ideas. After all, what rational person believed in ghosts?

She reached over, touched his hand, and sent a tingly sensation through him. He’d dated his share of women over the years. No one affected him like Amanda. So how could he criticize her, when he hadn’t told her about his childhood or why he dismissed anything supernatural as hokum?