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He sighed. “I didn’t mean it that way. Snapping is a good way to get your partner’s attention without a lot of noise. But noted. I’ll try to remember.”
Sam clamped her mouth and eyes shut, holding back her retort. She had to remember he was clever; he’d do his best to bring her back under his command. But fighting with him wasn’t a good idea either. Not when her safety depended on him. He could decide she was too much trouble and dump her somewhere or with some random agent who might not care at all. Her stomach tossed uneasily. She didn’t think he’d do that, but as she’d said, she didn’t really know him anymore. While his actions so far put her ahead of his career, she was important to resolving the situation and therefore, his success. She couldn’t trust him, and she had to remember that.
“Look, Sam, it’s important to stay in the moment. We’re on the run. Think about our next move, and what we do if we’re attacked or discovered. That’s where your mind needs to be, not the past or our relationship, or anything else. Survival. Concentrate on that.” He huffed. “Trust me, I’d rather be doing other things, but we have to stay alive first.”
She turned to him and glared. “Yeah? Well, that’s your job. I’m a small-town lawyer. You’ll have to forgive me for wanting a moment to relax and think about something else.”
Shaking his head, he snorted. “But you weren’t relaxing. You were winding up. I can still read the signs, Sam, because some things haven’t changed.”
“So what? We’re trapped in a car. There’s nothing I can do at the moment. Even if the bad guys box us in right now, all I can do is grab a gun and shoot. I don’t need to think a lot about that, Trevor.” She growled his name and shook out her clenched fists. “I’ll probably shoot more accurately if I don’t overthink it, because I don’t want to kill anyone. Sure, I can run scenarios in my mind, but if I don’t have the wheel, what good does it do me? I could research routes, but do you have paper maps of this area?” She wasn’t putting up with his attitude or lectures. Never again.
“No. Oversight on my part.” He worked his jaw back and forth. “Fine, get upset. But you’re not taking a long run to get rid of the anger later. We can’t afford to get far from the car because that’s our primary escape.” He raised his forefinger from the steering wheel. “In a few minutes, we’ll be alongside the Columbia above Grand Coulee Dam. It’s a long, narrow, slightly winding lake. That means our secondary escape is a boat. If we have to, we can steal one. It’s not ideal, because then we’ll need a vehicle where we ditch the boat, and there’s only so many places we can go. I’m driving, so I need you looking for possibilities. I also need you to look for hiding spots along the way. Is there a driveway or forest road with plenty of cover we can hide the car behind? I also need you ready to reinsert the phone battery and dial 911 if necessary. These things are critical to your survival. Got it?”
She scowled and turned to the front, hating that he knew how she preferred to process her emotions. She’d changed since high school, but running was still her thinking time. “Aye, aye, sir.” She didn’t need to focus her full attention to do those tasks. Nor did he have to talk to her like a two-year-old. He could have simply explained what he wanted rather than getting annoyed about her private thoughts. She’d set him straight. “I’m happy to accomplish those tasks. What I’m not happy about is the idea that you believe my emotions are any of your business. They aren’t. So, in the future, explain the tasks and circumstances, and leave the attitude adjustment out of it.” She turned toward him and jabbed her forefinger into his upper arm. “I don’t work for you, and I’ll never put myself under your thumb ever again. Period. You need me for your job. I need you for survival. That’s it.” She wasn’t turning into his girl ever again. She faced forward and stared out the windshield, looking for turnoffs and hiding places, pushing her tumbling thoughts to the background.
Trevor clenched the wheel, working his hands back and forth, but he didn’t reply. They drove the lonely two-lane highway, through harvested fields, barren pasture, and rare areas of pine forest. Signs for the historical site of Fort Spokane appeared, along with ads for water recreation.
As they crossed the Spokane River, she spotted a large marina on the far side. “Lots of boats on the other side to your left.”
“Copy that.” He kept the car rolling, increasing speed as they left the recreation area. “If I recall correctly, the highway leaves the river for a while. We’re mostly confined to the road, and turnoffs are likely to be dead ends. If we’re caught here, it will be a shootout, so take a nap if you’d like, or do some work. Just make sure your Wi-Fi and Bluetooth are off, along with location services. I’ll let you know if I see a threat.”
She wasn’t sure how to answer that but settled on a non-committal hum. The thought of a shootout in the middle of nowhere wasn’t comforting, but better than innocents getting hurt. If she dwelled on the idea, she’d spin ridiculous scenarios in her head, so she’d be better off working. Grabbing her laptop, she put the battery back in and turned it on. She double-checked the connections as Trevor commanded, then opened the latest legal reply on her pro bono parenting plan case. The abusive husband had hired a real shark; his language was inflammatory without quite crossing the line. The insinuations of “this woman is weak and needs guidance” would infuriate most female judges, but the old white men running Marcus’ courts would think nothing of it. Therefore, she’d insisted on a jury trial. They’d get some of those old relics, but there’d be more enlightened people in the pool, too.
The car slowed, and Sam looked up from her laptop. A large sign welcomed them to Kettle Falls. She saved the document and powered down the laptop, her bladder asking for a stop.
“We’ll grab fuel and food here.” Trevor didn’t look at her. “Hopefully paper maps. If we keep going north, we’ll have to cross into Canada, and we can’t do that. I’d need special permission to carry a weapon, and our real names would raise flags. But we can go east or west from here. We can use the phone’s VPN and hotspot here if you think Andreas or Wiz might have answered. I’ll check out routes and places to stay for the night.”
“I’d rather give Andreas a bit more time.” She watched for business signs. “Looks like both fuel and food are to the right on Highway 395.”
“Agreed.” He pulled into the first gas station and parked in front of the pump. “I’ll pay cash for gas. Make sure you put a hat on if you get out of the car.” He yanked the beat-up ball cap on his head and got out.
Sam pulled a blaze orange beanie from her bag and yanked it over her head, then slid the lip ring on. Getting out, she glanced around and walked to the mini-mart. Inside, she used the restroom, then filled two giant cups of coffee. Paying with her cash, she passed Trevor on his way in; his stride a little uneven.
“Here.” He held out the keys. “Be back shortly.”
Clamping the keys to a cup, she returned to the car and slid into the driver’s seat, placing the cups gently in the holders. The least she could do was drive and let his leg rest. The sooner the better; every dark, bearded man might be a Bratva spy. The guy in the fancy suit, driving the fancy BMW sports car and smoking while filling his tank was particularly out of place. Sam watched from the corner of her eye. The guy filled the tank but didn’t pull out, getting on his cell instead and ignoring the line of cars behind him.
When Trevor returned, he got into the passenger’s side with an armful of large, floppy, bright red books with snacks stacked on top. Placing the load on his lap, he pulled out one of the soft-cover books and flipped it to the back. “I bought maps for Washington, Idaho, and Oregon.”
Sam started the car. “We need to go. That guy makes me nervous.” She motioned with her chin.
Trevor glanced at the guy and belted in. “Pull away; we’ll see if he follows. But he’s a little too polished for Bratva.” Tracing a line across the map of Washington State with his forefinger, he stopped three-quarters of the way across. “I think we’ll go west. If Dahl can help, it’s more likely he’ll have someplace near Seattle, right? If he can’t, we’ll find more to hide in over there, so let’s go.”
She pulled out, keeping an eye in the rear-view mirror, despite Trevor’s assessment. “Hard to say about Andreas. His family is rich. They’ve got fancy houses all over and friends with more. Fortunately, they’re the kind of rich that doesn’t just suck the life out of everyone around them. Giving back, in their own entitled kind of way, is not only hammered into them from a young age, but it’s part of their trust fund conditions. That’s why Andreas works. His trust fund release required a real career, but he kept working after he got the money. He enjoys being a legal avenger and telling the political climbers he won’t play their games.” Although during the toughest parts of law school, she’d heard more than one rant on the unfairness of the stipulation and his temptation to overturn the provision through the courts. In the end, it was easier to become a lawyer himself than find a decent attorney who’d work with his then-limited funds.
The BMW didn’t follow, so she drove west and crossed the Columbia River again, driving through increasingly thick forest up Sherman Pass. The drive was beautiful, the turning larches creating a patchwork of gold and green hills. They descended, returning to a mix of brown pasture, harvested fields, and sparse woodlands. The hills were a mix of young, crowded firs, stands of tall pine, and clear-cut logging; they’d passed at least three lumber mills during the day.
Rolling into another tiny town, they turned on to the next highway and stopped at a grocery for sandwiches and a few healthier snacks. Sam got in the driver’s side again.
Trevor stretched a little, then got in and reclined the passenger’s seat. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Barring an emergency, wake me in forty minutes, or at the next major intersection, please.” Sliding a hoodie under his head, he covered his eyes with his hat brim.
“Sure.” She grabbed the map book and found their location. There were miles and miles of nothing but road ahead. Pulling out, she sped up as she left town, setting the cruise control at three miles above the speed limit. They descended through forest, old growth interspersed with clear cutting at several stages of regrowth. Then high desert with dormant pastures and tilled fields took over the landscape.
As she drove, Sam considered Trevor. He appeared to sleep soundly, but he could be faking it to avoid conversing with all the potential landmines. She didn’t know him well enough to tell. But he probably hadn’t slept well. She’d passed out, exhausted from the adrenaline crashes of the day and the emotional turmoil.
Which continued. She’d been unnecessarily harsh with Trevor, probably because she didn’t really believe what she’d said. Or more accurately, she was scared she’d fall right back into those old patterns, waiting on him hand and foot, desperate for every crumb of affection and attention.
But that fear wasn’t real. She’d become strong and independent. Plus, she had excellent role models of modern relationships. Erin, Deb, and Wiz were all tough in their own ways, but they leaned on their partners without hesitation. Ryan, Michael, and Tom all had different experiences and skills. They let the women in their lives take the lead when the situation called for it. They’d built true partnerships, despite past baggage, shaky beginnings, and desperate circumstances.
