Chapter 5: Safe and Sound

"Rach!"

Tim's bark in her ear reminded Rachel that she was in the middle of a telephone conversation. The leisurely drive through Arizona had escalated and it annoyed her that she hadn't seen it coming.

"What's going on?" Gutterson asked, sounding more like he was in the backseat with her than a thousand miles away. "Are you being followed?"

"We're not sure. We're pulling off at the next ramp."

Their SUV started to accelerate. Raylan reached over to squeeze Darla's shoulder. "Keep it steady."

As the vehicle slowed, Rachel shifted her position to get a better view of the vehicles behind them. The Chevy pick-up rolled along in the right lane, but coming up fast in the left was a silver sedan. Her pulse quickened.

"Tim, we'll check in later." Rachel ended the call and pocketed the phone.

The Explorer dropped speed even more. She turned around to see that Darla was taking the exit. The sedan had swerved back into the right lane and was a car length behind their bumper. Rachel tugged her piece free of its holster in anticipation. Just then her phone buzzed in her pocket. She muttered a curse and answered, thinking it was Tim or Art on the other end.

"Rachel here."

"Hey, beautiful."

"Joe?"

"Who else calls my wife beautiful?" he asked.

"Look, this isn't a good time," she said, trying to keep her tone even. The ramp curved around. She kept her gaze glued to the sedan. It had decelerated as it followed them 'round and 'round.

"There's never a good time with you. Shouldn't our marriage come first?"

"Dammit—"

"I want to see you." He sounded urgent, demanding.

Rachel didn't care. "Later!" She ended the call and swallowed the urge to scream.

"Who was that?" Raylan asked.

"Nobody." She pocketed the phone. By now, they were at the bottom of the ramp.

"Where should I go?" Darla asked.

Gas stations were nearby, as were restaurants. Signs indicated that motels were to the left.

"Pull into the Shell station," Raylan said.

"At the pump?"

"Yeah."

Darla followed Raylan's instructions and braked at the pump closest to the store. The silver sedan chose the Mobil across the street.

"Sonuvabitch," Raylan muttered.

"Should I go over there?" Darla asked.

"No!" both Rachel and Raylan said simultaneously.

"Sit tight." Raylan slipped out of the passenger seat. Gun at his side, he ran across the four-lane street to the Mobil station.

Low, even breathing sounded from the driver seat. Rachel noticed that Darla's hands still clutched the steering wheel. She asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're a good driver," she added.

"Thanks." Darla freed the wheel of her hold and sighed. "Maybe one of us should get gas."

Rachel released a short laugh. "I'll do it. Stay here."

"I'm not moving," Darla said.

Rachel secured her weapon and climbed from the backseat. She left the door open.

"I lost Raylan behind the semi. Can you see him?" Darla asked.

"No," Rachel said, "but he's alright."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

R&R

Raylan crossed behind an eighteen-wheeler to move alongside the sedan. The 2013 Chrysler Sebring had no plates. Even from outside, the new car smell was promising.

Gas was being pumped, but there was no one manning the handle.

He went inside the station. It was empty except for the teenage attendant. Rob was on the name on the tag.

"Did you see the driver of the Chrysler?"

The kid didn't bother to look up from his cell phone. "Nope. Didn't see nothing."

"Anyone in the restroom?"

"There's just the one outside," the kid answered. "You'll have to check for yourself."

Raylan headed to check and discovered that the car was gone.

"Fuck!"

He hurried back inside. "Which way did the car go?"

"What car?" Rob's tone was disinterested as all his focus was on the handheld device balanced on his palm.

Raylan muttered another curse. He jerked the phone from the kid's hands mid-text. "Where's the tape of the recording?"

"Recording?"

"The video camera, moron! Come on. I don't have all day." Raylan flashed his badge for emphasis. He imagined the kid saw the weapon, too, because his eyes grew wide and scared.

"Um…well… It's locked in the manager's office—"

"I'm a US Marshal and I don't have time for this shit. Where's the office?"

The video showed a tall man who wore a cap pulled low over his forehead. He kept his back to the camera. When he pulled in. When he pumped the gas. When he went to the restroom and came out of it. Also, when he returned to the Sebring and drove off. Somehow, the SOB managed to avoid facing the camera every time he was in range. It was an amazing feat.

"Can you retrieve the credit card info for pump 3?"

Eyes still wide, the kid only shrugged.

Raylan didn't waste anymore time there and ran back across to the Shell. Rachel was tearing the receipt off. Both women wore tight smiles at his return.

"Did you see the car drive off?" he asked them.

"The semi was in the way."

Rachel was about to say more, but Raylan's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. Art was on the other line. He asked her to hold that thought as he answered their boss's call.

"Tim said you were being followed."

"Yeah, a Chrysler Sebring. No plates. It's a new ride," Raylan said.

"What else can you give me?"

He told him that the driver paid with a credit card. Art promised to get on it.

"Tim is flying in—"

"We're doing fine, Art."

"Pick him up in Amarillo," Art continued as if Raylan hadn't said anything. "I'm texting gate, time, and flight no. Don't make him wait."

"Fine."

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked after he put his phone away.

"Tim's coming in."

"Oh."

Raylan frowned. Oh? What the hell did that mean? He came close to asking, but she slipped around to the passenger side. "Fine," he muttered under his breath. He then moved to the driver's side.

"I'd rather keep driving," Darla said.

Raylan considered it. She wore no sunglasses so he was able to read her eyes. Dark brown and crystal clear. Bits of apprehension still lingered, but she didn't appear unsteady.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "I can do it. This way you and Rachel can keep your hands free. Just in case."

"Just in case," he repeated softly. "Okay. But if you change your mind, just say the word."

He slid into the backseat and buckled in.

"What are we doing?" she asked as she guided the Explorer to the street.

"Get back on the Interstate," he said. "Set the cruise on 70."

Back on the road again, he could feel it. They were all on edge, but they were attentive, too.

"We'll get you back to Lexington. Safe and sound," Raylan said, tapping Darla's shoulder. "You have my word."

Darla nodded. Rachel looked across at her. "Say it."

Only measured breathing came from Darla.

"If you say it, you'll start to believe it," Rachel advised, gently. "Go ahead."

"You'll get me back. Safe and sound."

Watching the exchange from the back, Raylan was impressed. Rachel rarely lowered her guard. He wouldn't dare admit it to her, but her tough girl persona sometimes gave him a Marshal stiffy as Art would say. Yet this version of Rachel, the caring compassionate one, rendered him both speechless and mesmerized. Who was the real Rachel Brooks? He silently thanked Art for this opportunity to find out while cursing him for adding Gutterson to the mix.

Damn it all to hell.

"Follow the signs to Amarillo."

He leaned against the backseat, eyes on the road in search for the Chrysler and thoughts on his co-workers.

[A/N: Thanks again for reading, following, favoriting & reviewing! This story doesn't want to leave me alone! The action is heating up and Tim has been added to the mix. Will Raylon behave? Is the green-eyed monster on his back honest or just messing with him? One thing's for sure, the dynamic will change when Tim arrives.]