The Easy Way Out

25

At a red light, a mud-speckled pick-up truck idled beside the Honda. The young driver enjoyed the overhead view of Rachel's nearly naked legs. She felt his eyes and in response, pulled the hem of her oversized sweatshirt lower. The light changed and traffic moved.

"This sports slut outfit has gotta go." She pointed to a mall. "It's after ten. Stores are open."

Blake drove into the parking lot and found a space.

"Gimme some money," she said.

"How much?"

"I don't know. A couple hundred."

He peeled several bills from the folded cash in his pocket.

"B-R-B." She accepted the money. "Oh." She produced a screwdriver from the glove box and handed it to him. "They're gonna be looking for Pennsylvania plates. See if you can find us a replacement." When she got out of the car she didn't hurry. That would draw attention. Instead, she took a quick look around at the cars parked nearby then calmly walked toward the mall entrance.

He watched her go, an empty sensation filling him. He jerked his head from side to side studying vehicles as they passed as if he'd recognize two ferocious Greeks who killed for a living behind tinted glass windows. As if he'd have more than a one-in-a-million chance to escape before they rushed him, standing at point-blank range with shotguns in their hands. He grabbed the screwdriver and pushed the car door open, his breath rattling out of his chest.

Twenty minutes later, she exited the mall dressed in jeans and a fitted button-down shirt, shopping bag in her hand. She returned to the car pleased to discover a Maryland license plate affixed to her Honda's bumper. "Look at you being a real guy," she said, getting into the car.

He offered a crooked grin.

"My skanky uniform is in the trash. Where it belongs." She lifted the bag, "I kept the sweatshirt. For sentimental reasons."

He trained his eyes on a sedan driving past.

She said, "You wanna go in and pick out some clothes? I'll wait here."

"Let's just go."

She tossed a cellphone on the console. "That's yours."

"What's your number?"

He watched her input her number into his phone. "That's an easy one," he said, starting the car and driving out of the parking lot.

########

They headed south out of Pennsylvania, crossed the eastern panhandle of West Virginia, and rode Interstate 81 into Virginia when they decided a change of vehicles was in order. In the quaint little town of Strasburg, a smudge on the map, they rolled into the parking lot of a small white painted brick building bearing a green Enterprise sign. 

"Do a slow drive-by," she said, peering through the wide office window as they cruised past. A solitary figure stood at a computer terminal behind the desk. "Okay. Park the car."

The lot was practically empty. Blake wheeled into a lined space then watched Rachel pull her hair into a ponytail, apply a fresh coat of lipstick, slip on her sunglasses, then open the top three buttons of her shirt. She was so calm, so confident, as though she's done this a hundred times before.

"Do you think he'll notice me?" she asked with a sarcastic grin as she stepped out of the vehicle.

He watched her approach the Enterprise, adding a little extra swing to her hips, getting into character.

An excitable rental clerk was mesmerized by Rachel when she entered the office and crossed to the counter. He'd forgotten to breathe while his eyes traveled from her oversized sunglasses to her red lips and came to rest on her half-opened shirt.