Unfinished (Prequel, Unstrung Series)

Unfinished, Part 3

Just like he planned—now they could go into the kitchen without being seen.

“Let’s go,” he said.

They crept into the kitchen. The pot of butternut squash soup bubbled on the stove. It was thick with cream and smelled delicious. Quinn smiled; that wouldn’t last long.

Lexa ran for the salt. He ran for the cayenne pepper. They worked quickly, dumping half the salt and a quarter of the pepper into the soup. He’d chosen cayenne because specks of black pepper would’ve been too noticeable in the golden soup.

Lexa went to the door to keep watch. “She’s talking to one of the ladies about the salad dressing.”

Quinn stirred the mess into the soup, rinsed the spoon, and put it away.

“She’s coming back!” Lexa hustled over and put the salt and pepper away. “Into the cubby!”

They raced into the cubby, and Lexa barely had the door closed before the cook hurried in, muttering, “Who does she think she is, asking all those questions? As if we’d alter the menu just for her. The citrus vinaigrette is Miss Maren’s favorite, and I’m not changing it for some two-bit reporter. No, ma’am.”

The barrage of insults continued the entire time she dished up the soup. Quinn didn’t know how she missed the change in smell—cayenne was pretty obvious. But she must’ve been so peeved that she didn’t notice.

Preston arrived a few moments later with empty salad plates—save one.

“Did that hussy not eat?” the cook grumbled. “She’s going to go hungry if she keeps turning her nose up at everything.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Preston said, sounding bored.

She loaded up his tray with the soup and sent him on his way. Lexa had her hand clamped over her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh.

“We need to get back,” Quinn whispered. “If we’re in the training room when this goes down, how could we possibly be involved?”

She made a face. “I can’t lie like you can. I hope they don’t ask.”

They started crawling back to the utility adjunct near the service entrance, when they heard the kitchen door swing open, and a panicked Preston saying, “Miss Maren’s coming… The soup…”

“What did you put in the soup?” Maren’s voice promised pain and suffering. “I understand you weren’t happy with Carolee for not liking the salad, but I won’t have my staff—”

“Miss Maren, I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

There was an icy pause. “It doesn’t matter. I haven’t been pleased with your service, anyway. You’re dismissed. You, show her out, then come back and serve the roast.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Preston answered.

Quinn and Lexa crawled faster until they tumbled out into the service entrance behind a stack of crates. The cook was tearfully accepting a ride from one of the security guards. When Maren dismissed someone, she didn’t mess around.

Once they were gone, the two of them scrambled upstairs, using a route Lexa had developed that avoided the security sweeps. The first time she’d sneaked into the training room while Doc watched all the security feeds without seeing her, he’d tossed her in the air, laughing.

Now, it gave them the run of the entire house, except for Maren’s quarters, of course. They still hadn’t figured out how to leave the grounds without being caught, but Quinn was working on it. These little incursions were training for that day.