A/N: Salutations!
Happy marriage equality, my fellow Americans! I know, I'm a little late, but still! Yippee! :D
Also, happy belated Independence Day to everyone here in the USA as well!
Everyone needs to see Jurassic World, too, by the way. It is so awesome and, in my opinion, the only true sequel to the original so far.
Thanks, everyone, for your reviews! I'm so glad you're all enjoying it so far! I haven't had time to get to personally responding to everyone, but I will try to rectify that soon! :)
Without further babbling, the newest chapter!
They reached Hendersonville just as the sun was setting. Rachel gave Quinn directions to a small, private storage unit. One there, she produced a key to unlock one of the garage stalls. Quinn lifted the overhead door and triggered an automatic light switch. They did a quick check of the space, and then Rachel climbed into a small car and stared the engine. Quinn stepped aside while she backed out of the narrow space.
Now it was decision time. Quinn could either send Rachel on her way alone or break her self-made promise not to get more deeply involved. Even as she cursed her own streak of chivalry, Quinn knew there really wasn't any choice. Call her a sentimental fool, but she couldn't just desert Rachel while she was being hunted by the likes of Hudson. Despite her disapproval of Rachel's methods, the smaller woman was trying to bring Hudson to justice.
As soon as Rachel had cleared the building, Quinn hopped into the truck and drove it into the storage unit. After grabbing their bags, she pulled the door back down and secured it. She had planned to drive the rental back to Colorado, but she would have to take care of that later. Now it could be recognized.
When Rachel approached to relock the storage unit, their gazes tangled and awareness crackled between them. Her expression softened with gratitude. The slight chink in her steadfast armor pierced Quinn with unreasonable pleasure, but she hardened herself against the emotion.
"I promised Berry that I would stick with you until you were safe," she said, making light of her decision.
Rachel nodded, accepting her statement without comment. When she moved close enough to grab her bag from the taller woman, every inch of Quinn's body reacted to her warmth and scent. She clenched her fists to keep from touching the enchanting agent and searched for something to break the tension.
Turning, Quinn took a good look at their new transportation. Then she cocked a disbelieving brow. "Really? Pink? You expect us to hide in a pink car?"
"It's mauve," Rachel insisted, and for a brief instant Quinn thought she could sense the other woman's urge to stamp her foot for emphasis. "And it's perfect. Who would ever believe we were on the run in a mauve economy car?"
"Certainly not me," Quinn grumbled, but she couldn't argue with her logic. Neither Hudson nor the FBI would be searching for a compact sedan – let alone a pink one.
"I'll drive," Rachel said as she headed for the driver's side and stowed her bag in the back seat. "You have to be getting tired, and I am used to driving in the mountains."
Quinn hid her smile and didn't point out the fact that she herself lived right by the Rockies and the Smokies were nothing compared to them. She just moved to the passenger side and threw her bag in beside Rachel's. The space was cramped, the bucket seat low, but Quinn didn't complain as she slid the seat back and lifted it up a little until she was comfortable. Rachel did the same, except for sliding the seat back, and they were on their way again.
Hendersonville was little more than a crossroads with a couple of streetlights. Traffic was minimal. They found a convenience store, made use of the bathrooms, and filled a thermos with coffee.
Rachel bought a variety of supplies, making Quinn wonder where she planned to take them. Another safe house? A rental? The home of a friend or family member? Quinn hoped it was someplace she could safely leave her and head back to Colorado with a clear conscience.
Rachel stood by while Quinn used a pay phone to call Berry's private number. There was no answer, so she left a short, terse message on the answering machine. Schuester is your mole. We are on the run, but we lost our tail and Phantom is okay." She hung up the phone and went back to the car.
Though rarely comfortable with another driver, Quinn climbed into the passenger seat again, and Rachel drove back onto the highway. Quinn remained tense for the first few miles, but soon she realized that the other woman could handle car with the same ease she did everything else. Was there no end to her talents? Quinn relaxed a little, deciding to pry some information out of her cohort.
"Berry told me you were in deep, but he didn't hint at how deep. My reaction to your identity could have got us both killed." That's some icebreaker, Quinn. Way to go, she thought sarcastically.
"Rookie mistake," Rachel taunted.
The barb stung, but Quinn knew she deserved it. "Retiree mistake," she correctly sharply.
"Whatever." Rachel's voice held a teasing note, making Quinn wonder if superwoman might have a sense of humor.
"So," Quinn began again with a side glance at her driver, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably, "How did you manage a marriage proposal?"
Rachel hesitated briefly, but then explained. "Finn wants legitimacy and the image of a normal, healthy lifestyle. I played the part of an impoverished but highly eligible socialite with a pedigreed background."
"The perfect bait?" Quinn supplied, cocking her brow.
Her features tightened mutinously, making Quinn realize how disparaging her tone had sounded.
"It worked."
The succinct reply held a touch of hurt and made Quinn feel ignoble. She cursed herself for not being more diplomatic. Rachel had been under a tremendous amount of strain, yet it bugged Quinn to think of any woman offering herself as bait to a man with so few scruples. Her deception would be all the more personal and galling to an egomaniac like Hudson.
Was Rachel a total rebel? Some power-hungry lunatic who enjoyed living on the edge? Who thrived on danger? Had she not realized that she would be flirting with certain death if he ever got his hands on her again?
A mental image of Hudson touching her made Quinn grind her teeth. She didn't want her protective instincts roused, yet Rachel kept getting under her skin.
She had had to ask. "Why did you move in with him?"
"I had to have unlimited access to the estate without him watching my every move. I tried for weeks while we were dating, but finally decided there was no other way," she replied matter-of-factly.
Quinn made an effort to sound curious rather than accusing. "So why you? Why would you put yourself in such a dangerous, compromising situation? Just to prove yourself with the agency?"
The silence stretched until Quinn thought she had crossed a line and pushed too far. Finally, Rachel responded in a tight voice. "We all have our crosses to bear, Fabray. I have my reasons, but they have nothing to do with proving myself or advancing my career. I cannot be bought and I'm not motivated by greed or glory, so that's all you need to know."
Quinn cursed the fact that Rachel's passionate response only served to make her more curious. Wanting to relieve some of the tension, she suggested, "How about a change of subject?"
"That's okay by me," Rachel said. "Why don't you tell me about yourself. Where is home for you now? That's not classified information, is it?"
"Far from it." Quinn remembered how well-informed Berry had seemed about her current lifestyle. "I live in Evergreen, CO, only about 40 minutes from Denver."
The small bit of casually supplied personal information caused Rachel's rigid posture to relax somewhat. Her shoulders sagged a little, and Quinn wondered how she was handling the unrelenting stress.
"I've always been curious about Colorado but I've never been there," Rachel said, then asked tentatively, "Is that where you grew up?"
Quinn shook her head. "I grew up everywhere. I was a military brat." The desire to see Rachel at ease had Quinn offering details about her private life. "Both of my parents were Air Force officers. We move around a lot, but I spent my early childhood and most of my summer vacations with my grandparents in Colorado. My grandma was a professor at Colorado State and instilled the love of reading in me, and I've always found the mountains to be calming, a place for reflection. So, it really was not a hard decision to move to Colorado and open my own small bookshop when I retired from Uncle Sam's employ."
Her grandpa had been a decorated Second World War veteran. From the time Quinn was old enough to listen, she had heard tales of the war, the cost of freedom, and every American's duty to serve his/her country. They had watched old movies and cheered when justice triumphed over evil. Quinn had hung onto every word of her grandpa's lectures, vowing to live by the same high principles. She had taken it all to heart – but it had nearly cost her her soul.
"Did your parents retire to Colorado, too?" Rachel asked. Her tone sounded wistful, and Quinn studied her profile. What did Rachel's family think about her career? Maybe she didn't have anyone. That might explain why she had been willing to risk her life for a job.
"Dad died about four years ago, and Mom remarried. She and her new husband are stationed in Germany right now."
"Sounds like she's really dedicated to the service."
"Yeah, that's how I was raised. Everything is right or wrong, black or white, with no in-betweens. That's why I got fed up with the FBI."
"Too many shades of gray?" Rachel asked in a tone that suggested she really understood.
Quinn swallowed the lump quickly forming in her throat. "Yeah, way too much gray," she murmured softly.
They were quiet for a few miles, each lost in thought, and then Rachel spoke again. "Leroy said you left because you lost a partner and blamed the agency. Is that true?"
Quinn stared out the window, watching the scenery flash past as her memories fixed on Maggie. She had been more than a partner. So much more. Impotent rage still churned in Quinn when she dwelled on the unfairness of her death.
"Maggie went undercover while I was on leave for Dad's funeral. She went in alone, but with standard backup from the agency. She understood the risks," Quinn bit out bitterly, willing herself not to let the tears burning the backs of her eyes spill over.
Logically, Quinn knew that she might not have been able to save Maggie, but emotionally, she still felt responsible for not being there for her lover and friend. After years of trying, Quinn had finally realized that she could not be content until the man responsible for her death was brought to justice.
Rachel broached her next question softly and cautiously. "The records suggest that she might have turned bad."
"That's a filthy lie!" Quinn snarled, making Rachel jump and go tense again.
Quinn tempered her next words, but they still quivered with underlying fury. "That's what pisses me off the most. An agent gives her life for her country, and what does she get in return? A damn blight on her record? Rumors that she was on the take? That's why I hate the freaking politics. The FBI lost an agent, so they try to save face by suggesting that she's the one at fault!"
A thick silence fell in the car, but the unbridled strength of Quinn's emotion pulsed between them, intimately binding them in its intensity. Quinn took a deep breath, uncurled the fingers she had fisted, and forced herself to relax again. It was futile to give in to the long-simmering frustration.
Her loss of control unnerved her and made her realize just how exhausted she was. Otherwise, she would not be wasting time and energy on useless venting.
Rachel spared her a glance. "That's the gray part you hated so much?" she asked quietly.
Quinn scoffed and nodded. "Enough to make me call it quits."
Rachel nodded, and something about the small, supportive action clutched at Quinn's heart. It had been a long time since anyone had really cared or understood her feelings. She needed to shut the shorter woman out before she had a chance to undermine all of Quinn's good intentions of keeping their relationship strictly platonic and professional.
"I think I'll take a nap," she quipped, turning her attention from the driver to the window and wrapping her arms around her chest as she tried to get comfortable.
Rachel kept her attention on the winding, mountainous road, but stayed alert to every move and sound her passenger made. Fabray had tried to sleep sitting up against the window, but after some fidgeting, Rachel heard her huff, recline the seat, and stretch out as much as she could, finally getting comfortable using her arm as a pillow.
The tension in the car eased along with her, like the cleansed calm after a storm.
"Are you sure you're alright to drive?" Quinn asked suddenly, not moving from her position.
"Positive," Rachel responded with a resolute nod, still too wired to relax. "I rested earlier."
"Good. I haven't slept in thirty-six hours and definitely could use a little catnap."
Rachel fought the urge to smile. Quinn did look a bit like a cat, stretched out on the seat next to her. "I imagine you could. Will it bother you if I listen to some CDs?" Music was one of her greatest passions. At one point in her life, it was her greatest passion. She loved how music could transcend space and time, transporting her into another world, at least for a few minutes, and allow her to escape the harsh realities of her life without disconnecting her from it entirely. "Our radio reception won't be very reliable for a while."
"Music doesn't bother me unless it's that rap stuff."
"No rap or heavy metal, I promise."
"Happy to hear it."
There was just a hint of teasing in Quinn's tone. It surprised and warmed Rachel, so she responded in kind. "Then, go to sleep. If I get drowsy, I will wake you."
"You better."
Her comment sounded more like a command. Rachel shook her head but didn't respond. What was it with Quinn that she always wanted to be the one in charge? Rachel thought. She recognized and could tolerate that attitude as long as it suited her purposes.
About thirty minutes outside of Hendersonville, Rachel heard her breathing turn slow and steady. The sound of Quinn's soft snoring was strangely comforting, which worried Rachel. It made her wonder at her own reactions to the FBI legend.
Rachel had been shocked by her physical response during the brief moments she had spent in the taller woman's arms on the dance floor. She had held her own emotions under rigid control for so long that she had begun to feel like a robot. The prickle of attraction had been so alien that she almost hadn't recognized it. Now that she had, it had become an unwelcome complication.
Being cooped up in their current tight quarters stirred her sense again. Heat radiated from Quinn, enveloping her. There was something about the way the other woman was soft and feminine and yet at the same time was strong and stubborn that tugged at something deep inside Rachel, something she couldn't quite analyze.
As Rachel felt herself heat up more than her liking with the other woman in such close proximity, she decided that a compact car wasn't such a good idea, but she hadn't given a thought to prospective passengers when she had bought it. She had been something of a recluse for more than ten years now, and her lifestyle didn't allow much time for long-term relationships, or any relationship for that matter. Her greatest strength was the ability to function in any given situation while maintaining emotional distance – protected in her own insular little world.
So why was she having such a strong reaction to this woman?
Quinn Fabray's service record had fascinated her from the beginning – dedication to duty coupled with a renegade personality. She had been both praised and damned by her peers, but her devotion to job and country had never been in doubt. The fact that Leroy Berry trusted her implicitly was testimony enough to her integrity.
That didn't mean Rachel fully trusted her. Rachel had been alone for too many years, fiercely independent, working toward one goal with steadfast, obsessive determination.
Did she find Quinn attractive because she represented an end to her self-imposed isolation? Or because Quinn represented all that she had given up to accomplish her goal? Rachel was twenty-eight and had bypassed the usual coming-of-age flirtations – the dating games and variety of partners most people took for granted. She had never trusted anyone with her heart or her body, and she didn't plan to start now. She had also given up her dream of Broadway, a future she believed as a child that she was destined for, but now knew only as a might've been fantasy.
As a teenager, she had had a serious crush on an upperclassman who was starring alongside her in her school's production of Anything Goes. Her family had been in the witness protection program because her dad testified against his former boss, Finn Hudson. They had feared their location had been compromised and wanted to move, but she had begged to stay for the opening night of Anything Goes. It had cost her mom, dad, and brother their lives before she even finished putting on her first costume. Since then, she hadn't let anyone get too close, nor had she let anyone or anything interfere with her quest for justice.
To Finn, she had been a possession, a means to an end, just another collector's item. She had told him she wouldn't have sex until they were married. It had been a condition of their engagement, and he had agreed. He had other women, but they were more than welcome to his amorous advances.
People like Quinn – beautiful, smart, and reeking of sex appeal – usually had a bevy of partners vying for attention. She could even have a husband or lover or significant other. She glanced at Quinn's left hand. She didn't wear a wedding or engagement ring, but that could be for any number of reasons. Why hadn't she thought to ask when the other woman had been talking about her family?
It annoyed Rachel that she had missed the opportunity to pry some more. Quinn had been unexpectedly forthcoming about her parents, her dead partner, and her grievances with the agency. Her exhaustion had probably contributed to her candor, but it wouldn't hurt to give it another try when she woke.
Rachel gazed into the unending darkness of the mountains, broken only by her headlights and an infrequent passing car. For the most part, the skies were cloudy with random glimpses of a star-studded sky. The slivered moon did little to illuminate the winding, ascending road.
She didn't mind the darkness. Her thoughts were equally dark. Over the next couple of hours, she reviewed the past six months in her mind – the conversations she had overheard, the records she had unearthed, and the security she had breached. With her testimony, they could put Finn Hudson behind bars for the rest of his life.
It had taken every ounce of courage she had possessed and a strength born of necessity to carry out the assignment. Pretending to accept his proposal and moving into his home had taken nerves of steel, but she had sworn to make him pay for destroying her family. That pledge had seen her through the worst of it.
In her mind's eye, she projected the image of her mother, dad, and brother. It was a vision that comforted her in times of extreme stress. They had been the axis of her world until Finn Hudson had ordered their deaths. If she had been a little stronger, a little wiser, or a better person, she could have prevented what happened. The knowledge ate at her like a disease. The only way she knew to counteract the guilt was to make Hudson pay for his crimes.
No jury in the country would fault her for the engagement deception. Not once they heard the whole truth. She and Leroy were banking on that fact. There was no way their undercover operation could be labeled entrapment. Hudson's corruption dated back too many years to afford him that defense.
We have him. We have him. We have him. The litany ran through her mind like the constant spinning of the car's wheels. We have him. We have him.
When Rachel realized that she was becoming mesmerized by the sound of her thoughts, she reached out and touched Quinn's arm. Heat and strength. The warmth of another human being. The comfort it offered unnerved her a little because it was so unexpected. It was a pleasure she rarely enjoyed with anyone but her adoptive parents. The contact soothed her, subduing the painful turbulence of her memories.
Her passenger stirred, yawned, and glanced up at her. Rachel watched her in her peripheral vision, feeling her own body come awake with tingling alertness as Quinn uncoiled herself and straightened her seat.
They had reached the peak of the mountains, shrouded in late-night fog. Rachel dimmed her lights to cut through the haze, and then spoke to Quinn.
"There's a roadside rest area a few miles ahead. I thought we might get out, take a break, and stretch out legs. I'm started to get numb."
"Sounds good," she mumbled.
Quinn's voice was so low and husky and incredibly sexy that it snapped Rachel's senses to attention. A tremor of reaction crackled along her spine. It was a quick fix to her lethargy.
"Is there any of that coffee left?" Quinn asked, looking toward the center console.
"About a cupful, but it's only lukewarm," Rachel responded, handing the other woman the thermos, and then wrapping her fingers around the steering wheel.
"I want to try to reach Leroy again if the payphone's working at the rest area." Rachel had already decided to call, but threw out the comment for conversation's sake.
Quinn nodded. "I don't mind waking him in the middle of the night. I actually hope he's sound asleep. I owe him one." After all, Berry had called her at four a.m. to request her help.
"Even if someone traces the call, there's no way to pinpoint our exact location," Rachel expanded. "Once we clear the mountains, we could go in any direction."
Quinn nodded again and arched a brow. "Do you have a specific destination in Kentucky or is it just an unlikely spot for someone to find?"
Rachel deliberated, but then decided to trust her even further. "I'm familiar with the Cumberland Lake area, so that's where I'm headed."
"A resort lake?" Quinn asked incredulously.
"Yes, miles and miles of man-made lake. It's all buried in a deep valley between jagged, boulder-lined hills topped with a thick wall of evergreen trees," she explained.
Understanding lit up Quinn's features. "A nice place to get lost?"
"That's what I'm hoping." Once upon a time, Rachel craved to be known by everyone everywhere and to see her name in lights. Now, she wanted nothing more than to disappear, to fade away into the background after months of constantly being in the spotlight and on display.
The rest area was nearly deserted as they pulled to a stop in the parking lot. Rachel climbed from the car, grabbed her back, and headed for the restroom with Quinn close beside her. They parted ways in the women's restroom, with Quinn going into the handicap stall and Rachel opting to tidy herself up before using the toilet.
She splashed some water on her face at the sink, brushed her teeth, and restored some order to her hair. It took a while, but she managed to tame some of the spiky tufts of the punk hairstyle. The result wasn't very flattering, but it was a whole lot less noticeable. The last thing she wanted to do at this point was draw attention to herself.
Feeling more human, Rachel used the toilet and then went back outside to wait for Quinn at the payphone. When Quinn rejoined her a few minutes later, Rachel saw that she wasn't the only one who had used the time to freshen up a little. Quinn's hair was damp and unexpectedly blonde, having taken the opportunity to rid herself of the red wig. Rachel's admiring gaze traced the smooth curve of Quinn's lips. Such a soft, sexy mouth, she thought, then shook her head of that thought. Focus, Rachel!
Quinn had already dialed the number and was greeting Berry when Rachel stepped closer. Their gazes met, and Rachel was taken aback by the stunning hazel of her eyes. Quinn had shed the deep green contacts, altering her appearance even more. The clarity of the blonde's steady gaze caused Rachel to shiver. It felt as though Quinn could see right into her soul, and she knew it wasn't a very pure place.
Quinn turned the receiver to that they could both hear.
"I got your earlier message," said Berry. "But Schuester's dead. Killed by St. James. According to him, Will pulled a weapon and tried to shoot at you when you left the safe house. They scuffled over the gun and Will was fatally shot."
Quinn and Rachel exchanged frowning glances, neither sure what the latest twist could mean.
Quinn was the first to speak. "You'll be watching St. James?"
"For sure, and we will do some serious checking on Schuester's record. I will personally interrogate everyone he's worked with."
"When are you having Hudson arrested?" Quinn asked.
"First think Monday morning, but there's a glitch. His lawyers will demand he be released on bail, and there's a good chance we won't be able to keep him long.
"What about his flight risk?" insisted Rachel, her heart sinking at the word glitch. Finn wouldn't want to leave his little empire or the U.S., but once he realized how damning the evidence was against him, he had the money and the connections to disappear. "I thought once we had him jailed, we could keep him there indefinitely."
"I did, too, but as soon as you disappeared today, eh made a public announcement that you had been kidnapped. He's conducting a media circus, featuring himself as the devastated fiancé who's bravely coping with a great tragedy.
The information had Quinn and her staring at each other in disbelief.
"So that's his master plan," Rachel whispered. "He wants the world to believe that I've been kidnapped. That way he gains a lot of sympathy without having to deal with me himself."
"He also gains the means to get us permanently out of his hair," Quinn added grimly. "That's why it was so easy. He has been playing us all along. If we turn up dead, then he will have an alibi, someone to blame for your murder. Then, if I'm conveniently killed by one of his men, the murder will seem justified."
"You're probably right, but that won't help him against the indictment," said Berry.
"He's not aware of that yet," Rachel reminded. "We're still the only ones with access to that information, aren't we?"
"Yes, and that has to stay a secret until I get the arrest and search warrants. If not, then there's a risk of him fleeing. Meanwhile, he's playing the media for all it's worth. I'll have to publicly acknowledge your identity or risk having a judge release him on bail," explained Berry.
"How bad is the risk for Phantom if you expose her identity?" Quinn asked. "Hudson must know she's a federal agent by now."
"Even if he does, it won't keep him from putting a contract out on both of you. Her disappearance threatens her standing with the bureau, since we don't have her in protective custody. If I can't verify her whereabouts, then that leaves us without a witness who can support the indictment."
"You're suggesting we come to D.C.?"
"Are you staying with her?"
"I said that I would."
Quinn's tone was getting harsher by the minute. Rachel studied her fierce expression and wondered what concerned the blonde the most – the risk to Rachel's safety, the risk of weakening their case, or the thought of prolonging her own involvement. It worried Rachel that she was beginning to care about Quinn's motives.
Berry took his time answering. "No. I will swear that I know where she is being held. You two disappear for a few days until we see how this is going to play out. Keep in touch with me through this number. If I'm forced to produce a witness, then we will worry about additional security then."
They ended the call and Quinn replaced the receiver. Only then did Rachel realize how close the two of them were standing. Her right shoulder and arm were pressed firmly against Quinn's side, the heat of the other woman permeating the thin layers of her clothes. It seemed so natural, yet disturbing. Rachel had an unprecedented urge to press closer, and that wouldn't do at all.
Once they stepped apart, Rachel felt a chill and shivered.
"You're cold. We need to get back to the car," Quinn insisted, surprising Rachel when she wrapped an arm around her as they moved toward the parking lot.
Rachel's first instinct was to shift from the warmth of her touch. She didn't want to seem weak or needy, but she was cold and tired and trying to ward off an emotional collapse. She had been warned by bureau psychologists about a dramatic letdown after an undercover assignment.
Maybe she would be wise to accept the little impersonal support. Just as long as it remained impersonal. So far, she and the renegade retiree were making a pretty good team.
Quinn offered to drive, but Rachel insisted that she would rather continue until they were through the mountains. She drove while Quinn caught a few more hours of rest. Then they exchanged places, but Rachel still wasn't able to sleep.
They shared a comfortable silence, passing the time listening to music and studying the darkness beyond the windows of the car. Rachel had picked up a map at the rest area, so she navigated them through southern Kentucky. By daybreak, they were nearing their destination.
"Where are we heading now?" Quinn inquired lightly.
"I think Somerset is one of the largest towns in the lake area," Rachel said. "It's not too big, but it offers the basics. If I remember correctly, there are several docks, and check-in times at the marinas are about the same as most hotels."
Quinn shot her a confused glance. "Marinas?"
"I'm planning to rent a houseboat if there's one available," she explained, glancing at the blonde and wondering if she was going to bail out on her now. "The lake is huge, so you can disappear for days at a time without anyone checking up on you."
Both of Quinn's eyebrows shot up at that information. "You can actually stay out on the water?"
Rachel nodded and hid her smile at the utter amazement in the other woman's voice. "It's been years since I was there, but I remember cruising around until we needed to refuel. At night, we would set the anchor near the shoreline and stay put. Either way, you avoid contact with civilization."
"You've vacationed there in the past?" Quinn asked, her tone one of genuine curiosity.
"Once, a long time ago." The thought made Rachel melancholy, but she tried to shrug it off. "How about you? Are you interested in staying or do you want to head on home? I don't see any possible way I can be traced now, so you don't need to feel obligated.
Quinn shook her head and Rachel saw her grip tighten on the steering wheel. "I said I'll stick with you until Berry makes other arrangements."
"But what about your family? Don't you need to get home to a husband or kids or partner of some sort?"
Quinn shot her a teasing grin. " 'Partner of some sort'?"
Rachel just rolled her eyes. "Partner, as in significant other or anyone who expects you home soon."
"Fishing for more details about my private life, hm?" Quinn quipped, smirking.
This woman really could be maddening. Rachel gritted her teeth. "I think it's important that I know the basics," she insisted.
"What you see is what you get," Quinn finally said. "I don't have to account to anyone for my whereabouts. Not even Berry, since I already honored my promise to help you escape Hudson's estate."
"So, what do you do? Just risk your life for kicks?"
Quinn's light chuckle rippled over Rachel like a sweet, sexy melody. Her heart thudded uncharacteristically. She scolded herself for the foolish reaction, realizing how desperately she needed sleep.
"No, I'm self-employed and run my own little bookstore, which I've told you before, although you obviously weren't paying attention," Quinn explained, her tone teasing and eyes sparkling with good humor, making Rachel blush and curse herself for forgetting that detail of the blonde's life. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
No way would Rachel ever consider Quinn to be ordinary. She might prefer to think of herself that way, but Rachel couldn't.
"Do you know anything about boating or fishing?" she asked the blonde, abruptly changing the subject.
Quinn just furrowed her brow a bit and replied, "Not much."
Neither did Rachel, but they were intelligent, resourceful women. They could learn.
Conversation lagged as they covered the last hundred miles of their journey. The sun was rising behind them as they reached the outskirts of Somerset.
Their first stop was another convenience store and refueling station. They filled the gas tank and bought souvenir T-shirts. Then they freshened up with a change of shirts to cut the risk of being recognized. They had drastically changed their looks since leaving the coast, but it didn't hurt to cover every angle.
Next, they found a small roadside restaurant and took their time over breakfast and coffee. When the place started to get crowded, they drove into town. Rachel asked Quinn to stop at the local post office.
She stayed in the car while Rachel rented a post office box and bought two padded envelopes. In one, she mailed herself extra cash and a fake driver's license at her personal P.O. box, knowing the post office was the safest place to hide it in case of another emergency.
Rachel used the second envelope to mail all her jewelry to her adoptive aunt Charlotte's address in Maine. It was a risk to mail anything so valuable, but the necklace, bracelet, and rings were all gifts from Finn. They held no sentimental value. If she ever got a chance to sell them, she would make good use of the money, but she wouldn't be destitute if the jewelry got lost or damaged.
They spent the next couple of hours driving around the town and familiarizing themselves with the area. When the stores finally opened, they purchased additional clothing, more groceries, and a few other necessities.
Rachel found a brochure with information on boat rentals, so she called several marinas until she found one with a recent cancellation. After learning that a houseboat was available immediately, they headed for the lake.
"What's the name of the place?" asked Quinn.
"It's called Beaver Creek Resort, and it's near Monticello. There are several marinas with docks and fuel stations, but the only one with an availability is Beaver Creek. This is the height of their tourist season, so we got lucky. I think they said they have one good-size houseboat for rent."
Quinn looked skeptical. "What's good-size?"
Rachel showed her the picture in the brochure. "There are several types, each in a different price range with different amenities and the capacity to sleep a different number of people. I guess ours is over sixty feet long.
"According to the brochure, it features a galley with a gas stove, refrigerator, running water, generator, central heat, AC, microwave, electric lights, deck furniture, gas grill, swimming ladder, power steering, and a sliding board off the top deck."
Quinn whistled softly. "It sounds like a small yacht, and looks like it must be top of the line."
"Nope, top of the line is a lot bigger, sleeps more people, and costs more," Rachel answered cheekily.
Quinn shot a glance at her. "Which brings up the question of how we're going to pay for this rental. I don't carry around that sort of cash, we can't charge it to Uncle Sam, and we sure can't use plastic."
"I have several thousand dollars' worth of cash with me," Rachel told her, earning herself another, longer, sharper look. "When I moved in with Finn, he insisted on giving me an allowance and buying me designer clothes. I have been hoarding the money and even selling a few designer gowns."
Quinn's laugh wasn't pleasant. "So your lover is paying for our little hideout."
Rachel managed to keep her temper reined, but just barely. "He and all the people he's swindled out of money, including Uncle Sam," she returned succinctly.
The reminder of Hudson cranked the tension between them again, so they grew silent, speaking only about directions. The road that led to the marina was sharply winding, and they drove downhill at a forty-five degree angle for more than fifteen minutes before Quinn complained.
"Are you sure this dock isn't in China?" she asked, as they kept going downward, mile after mile, in the seemingly endless spiral of a roller coaster.
"I told you the lake was carved out of solid rock. It takes a while to get down to the water."
Rachel hoped the high rock walls would be an added barrier between them and Finn's far-reaching network of criminals.
A/N: So. Much. UST. Will Rachel get a hold of her wayward feelings? Will Quinn ever realize that Rachel didn't sleep with nasty, old Finn? Will they be tracked here too? Find out next time!
I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Chapter 4 to come...whenever it's done.
Bye!