Rarities Unlimited 02 - Running Scared

gold?”
    “No.” Nothing valuable had been left in the dump that was Cherelle’s last address.
    Sycamore trees with pale bark and branches twisted and shimmered like ghosts in the moonlight. Risa had more time than she wanted to admire the trees’ eerie beauty, because Shane was driving the rental truck over the miserable excuse for a road. She winced as a rock leaped out and attacked the right front tire.
    “Sure you don’t want me to drive?” she asked.
    “You think you could do better?”
    She started to say yes, then held her tongue when she saw the pile of rocks he had avoided by swerving over to the right. “No, but then I’d have the steering wheel to hang on to.”
    Shane grinned like a raider.
    After she checked over her shoulder—stars, moon, no headlights—she said, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”
    It was more of an accusation than a question, but he answered anyway. “Yeah. I’d forgotten how much I enjoy the backcountry.”
    “Speaks someone who never lived in East Bumblefart.”
    “I thought you were from Arkansas.”
    “Same difference.”
    “Hey, I happen to know that there are some grand places in—”
    “I never saw them,” she cut in. Then she blew out a rushing breath. “Oh, hell. You’re right. The countryside is beautiful, all shimmery with heat and secrets. It was my life that sucked.”
    “Yeah, funny how that sours you on a place.” He checked the rear and side mirrors. Nothing but night. “I’d have to be bound, gagged, and drugged to go back to Renton.”
    “Where’s that?”
    “Washington. State, not D.C. Between Seattle’s sprawl and the trackless Cascades. Lots of green because there’s lots of rain.”
    “You sure got all the way out,” she said.
    “Meaning?”
    “Green and rain are the last words I’d think of to describe ‘Lost Wages,’ Nevada.”
    “Love at first sight,” he agreed. “How about you?”
    “The same. All the distance. The space. The emptiness. It was alien as hell, and I loved it instantly. Watch the—!”
    Shane swerved to avoid a skunk and cursed when something on the undercarriage scraped on a rock.
    “Whew,” Risa said, fanning the air in front of her face. “I’d forgotten what they smell like. Did you miss it?”
    He checked the rearview mirror and saw a black-and-silver shape waddle toward the creek bed.
    “Yeah.” The bottom scraped again over a combination of a pothole and a rut. He swore. “Can you tell me what the hell point there is in putting four-wheel drive on a baby pickup truck that has the same clearance as the average minivan?”
    “Gee, let me see,” she said. “I’m guessing that minivans have a low dick quotient.”
    “Never thought of it that way.”
    “You’re a man,” she said, turning to look back over the road.
    “You noticed.”
    “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I did.”
    Her smile made Shane wish they were on the dirt road for no other reason than to find a quiet place to steam up the windows and each other. But they weren’t.
    “See anything?” he asked.
    “Stars, moon, black cliffs, sycamores like ghosts . . .”
    “And the back of your neck itches,” he finished.
    “And the back of my neck itches,” she agreed. “Yours?”
    “Like fire.”
    “Well, hell. You were supposed to go all dick quotient on me and say how it’s my hormones or something.”
    “ ‘Or something’ has my vote.”
    “I sure don’t see anything back there but a whole lot of nothing.” She gave up and half turned in the seat to make checking over her shoulder easier. “But the moon is bright enough for someone to run without headlights.”
    “Is that a suggestion?”
    “No. I gave up that kind of midnight tag when I was fifteen.”
    “What kind of tag?”
    “The kind where you shut off your headlights and play bumper cars on country lanes until you’re the last idiot on the road.”
    Shane whistled. “Sounds like fun. Why’d you give it up?”
    Risa started to duck the question, then shrugged. “Because the guy driving pulled off the road and tried to rape me. He probably would have, if Cherelle hadn’t come over the backseat and shoved his balls up his ass with her knee while she screamed that just because she did it for money didn’t mean her friend did for free.”
    Shane’s hands flexed on the wheel until his knuckles were pale as bone. “That’s one I owe her.”
    “I think ten thousand dollars is adequate repayment,” Risa said dryly. “A little later Cherelle left