Half an hour later, she pulled up to her house. Rachel's car was parked halfway between her house and the Hennessey house. There was a new papasan chair on her porch and Rachel was curled up in it, sound asleep. Stevie smiled down at her. She figured the chair had been picked up at a yard sale, but she didn't know if Rachel was going to take it home or leave it on her porch. Either one was okay with Stevie.

She opened the front door and gently scooped Rachel up into her arms. At least…she tried to. The angle was awkward, and Rachel was asleep. It was like trying to pick up a bag of sand. Rachel just kept pouring out of her arms.

Stevie gave up and put her hands on her hips. "I was going to carry you to the bed, but you're too heavy."

One green eye opened. "Are you saying I'm fat?"

"Muscle is heavier than fat," Stevie complained. "Maybe if you'd pork up a bit I could have been romantic. Now I just look weak."

"I bet you could pick me up easy if you didn't have to try not to wake me."

"Pfft. I'm not in the mood anymore." Stevie sat down on the top step and put her chin in her hands.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing." Rachel sat down beside her on the step. Stevie waited, but Rachel didn't say anything. She finally glanced over to find Rachel staring patiently at her. "What?"

"I'm just going to be your little shadow until you tell me. Take your time."

There was nothing Stevie could do to stop her tears. She tried, but they were unstoppable.

"Oh, baby. Tell me what's wrong? Was there a problem with the police last night?"

Stevie shook her head and struggled to speak. "It's my parents. Rory says they're fighting all the time and it's sort of about me. I don't want them to split up over me."

Rachel's arm came over her shoulders and Stevie turned into her embrace. It was embarrassing, but if she was going to cry, she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather be with. Her tears were like a summer storm: intense and swift to pass. Rachel was rocking her as Stevie wiped away her tears. "Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize. The next time I have a meltdown, I'm coming to you for support."

"Okay."

"Are your parents splitting up or just fighting?"

"Mom says they're just fighting, but Rory says it's pretty serious."

Rachel nodded thoughtfully. "I'm going to bet on your Mom. I like Rory, but he's pretty young. Your mom has a lot more experience with relationships and she's known your dad longer than any of you. I think if anyone can pull it out of the fire, she can."

Stevie stared at Rachel for a minute. "You're really smart about people. I like that about you."

"Thanks." Rachel brushed her wild hair back behind an ear. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone calling Melanie a hoot before. You two hit it off?"

Stevie had to grin at the memory. "We hated each other until I hacked into her computer network with my iPhone."

Rachel's eyes got impossibly large. "What did you say?"

"I hacked her system. We're going to talk about a new IT contract and equipment next week. I think she's going to sue her old security provider."

Rachel had a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God. I can't believe you did that."

Stevie shrugged. "I was bored."

Rachel started laughing. "You hacked the most dangerous criminal attorney in a hundred miles because you were bored?"

"She kind of dared me," Stevie explained. "She didn't believe I could do it and I suggested a wager. I won."

"Honey…I don't think Melanie has ever lost at anything. Enjoy the moment."

Stevie wiped the last traces of her tears away with a skinny smile. "She was great last night, but it took forever. I didn't get home until after two this morning. The tech department sucks. They're doing the best they can, but the newest computer they have is five years old. Some of their computers won't even read a flash drive. A lot of them are providing their own laptops and there's no hope of hooking them into a network that old. There's no way they can keep up with that kind of handicap."

"Maybe you should report that to the city council. Maybe they'll listen to you. God knows they aren't listening to us."

"I'm just a kid. They aren't going to listen to me."

Rachel shrugged. "An informed, outraged citizen, and business owner, has a lot more power than you know. If you explained how bad it is and asked them to take bids on repairing the problem, they might take it into consideration."

Stevie wasn't so sure. "Maybe."

"So, you got immunity last night?"

"Bob and me, both. They never stood a chance against Ms. Nichols. They couldn't exactly offer us immunity for the DEA hack, but they said one way or the other they won't give us up without a deal. It just took so long to explain everything. Bob's thought processes are never easy to follow, but they had a really hard time."

"Thanks for doing that, Stevie."

"Thanks for not being mad and dumping me."

"There was no chance of that happening, baby."

Stevie smiled at Rachel. Being with her always felt so good. "Would you like to go inside with me?"

Rachel batted her eyelashes. "Will you carry me?"

Stevie sighed.

"Trust me, baby. I'm not as heavy when I'm awake."

Stevie wasn't sure that was true, but she was willing to try again. Slipping an arm under Rachel's knees as arms wound around her neck, Stevie found it unexpectedly easy to stand up.

"See?"

"Wow. I feel so butch."

Rachel laughed against her shoulder as Stevie carried her inside and kicked the front door shut behind her. She had to twist carefully to get into the bedroom, but she managed not to hurt either of them. Stevie laid Rachel down on the bed and crawled over to lie beside her.

"My hero," Rachel teased.

"You're the hero," Stevie corrected. "I can't imagine doing what you do for any job. Don't you usually wear a uniform and drive around in a patrol car?"

"Yes."

"Could I be a civilian observer sometime?"

"I might be able to set that up."

"Excellent." Stevie moved closer and ran a hand over Rachel's arm. "How long can you stay?"

"That depends on what you want to do."

Stevie moved even closer and rose over Rachel. "I want to kiss you," she said in an unintentional whisper. "I want to fall into you and never come out." Rachel smiled and Stevie suddenly found herself on her back with Rachel sitting on her.

Rachel pinned Stevie's hands to the bed and leaned down to nibble at her lips. "I want to kiss you, too."

Stevie shivered at the delicious sensations.

"I want to kiss you until our clothes fall off and then I want to make love to you until you scream my name."

Stevie nipped at Rachel's chin. "I want to taste you…all of you."

"I want to taste you, too."

Rachel's kiss was more than a kiss. Her whole body moved into Stevie and caressed her with intent and purpose. Stevie had never felt passion like this before. It seduced her with insistent tenacity. She opened herself to it and was taken.

Stevie pulled at Rachel's shirt even as her own was removed. The first touch of skin on skin was like the first plunge of a rollercoaster. She knew it was coming, but it defied gravity and made her cry out.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked as she reached for Stevie's bra.

"Don't stop," Stevie gasped. Her hands slid down inside the back of Rachel's jeans and cupped her ass. It was so sexy. Stevie arched up into Rachel and pushed one leg up against Rachel's groin.

"Oh my God," Rachel sighed. Placing her hands on Stevie's shoulders, she began to surge on the strong thigh. "That feels so good."

Stevie was entranced. Rachel was moving on her in a slow, sinuous dance. "You are so beautiful," she moaned.

Rachel let her eyes close for a moment and then she leaned down for a languid kiss. Her eyes dropped to Stevie's chest. "I like your new bra. Very sexy."

It was a beige one her mother had helped her pick out. She was still getting used to how it felt. "I'm glad you like it, but I wish you'd take it off of me."

Rachel smiled and slid one hand beneath Stevie's back. A few seconds later, it loosened. Stevie kneaded Rachel's ass as she undulated, but she watched as her breasts were slowly revealed. Her nipples were already hard, but they stiffened even further as Rachel gently kissed each one.

"Beautiful," Rachel murmured.

It was so exciting to watch Rachel kissing her breasts. Stevie wanted to give Rachel the same feeling. She made quick work of Rachel's bra and closed her hands over the generous mounds. She could feel the dark nipples in the center of her palms, and it made her mouth go dry.

Stevie sat up and it changed their positions. She wasted no time and took one of Rachel's nipples into her mouth. The act shook her to her foundation. She clutched at Rachel and tried not to come.

When she had control of herself, Stevie began making love to Rachel's breasts with soft kisses and deep suckling. Her hands caressed everything she could reach. The feel of Rachel's skin was enthralling. Stevie was fully aware of Rachel's hands exploring her. It felt like nothing she'd ever experienced and part of her wanted to surrender to Rachel's touch, but she couldn't stop.

Rachel's breathing was fast and deep, her body moving rhythmically. Stevie tugged at Rachel's button-flies and the denim opened with an eager growl. Sitting up straighter, Stevie slipped her hand inside and stopped breathing. Rachel was shaved and so incredibly warm and wet. It was almost more than Stevie could bear.

Her head fell back, and her eyes closed. Stevie could feel Rachel's check on hers and she could hear the panting of need in her ear.

"Hold still," Rachel pleaded in a whisper. "Just hold still for a second."

The emotion of what she felt exceeded her capacity to hide and tears rolled from Stevie's eyes. "So beautiful," she choked.

Rachel began to move on Stevie's fingers. "Feel me," she whispered.

"I feel you," Stevie answered. Rachel's labia spread open over her fingers and in a few moments, she could feel everything. "I feel your clitoris," she said in reverent awe.

"It's hard for you," Rachel moaned.

Stevie shifted her fingers slightly and let Rachel's clit slide between her fingers. She squeezed just a little and thrilled at the breathless whimper that Rachel let out. "You like that?"

"Do it again."

Within a few seconds they had a rhythm in place and Rachel's movements intensified. Stevie opened her eyes and watched the pleasure on her lover's face evolve. Her free hand moved to a breast and began to play with the nipple. Rachel responded with urgency. Watching her…making her excited…it was just so miraculous.

"I want to be inside you," Stevie implored.

When Rachel nodded, Stevie turned and lowered Rachel to the mattress. Her fingertips found the entrance to Rachel's body and she slowly pushed within her.

Rachel stopped breathing and lifted her hips.

Stevie was starting to lose the feeling in her hand because of Rachel's tight jeans, but she didn't want to stop. The sensation of being inside of Rachel was so intense. Stevie lowered her head to Rachel's shoulder and concentrated on the hot, slick muscles surrounding her fingers.

"Oh, God," Rachel finally groaned. "Is that two fingers?"

Stevie nodded.

"One more, baby."

Stevie wasn't sure she could. "Your jeans are too tight."

"Take them off."

Stevie shook her head. "I don't want to come out. I just got here."

Rachel laughed softly. "I'll let you right back in, sweetie."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

Stevie really didn't want to, but she slipped her fingers out gently. They were so wet. She lifted her fingers to her nose and let the scent of Rachel's most private place curl up inside of her. Stevie shivered at the intense feelings she was experiencing. It wasn't enough.

Reaching for Rachel's ankles, she grabbed the hems and smoothly pulled off Rachel's jeans. Since she was up, she finished taking her own clothes off and lay down in the arms that were reaching for her. Feeling the long length of Rachel's naked skin on her own was secondary to her need to be inside of her lover. Stevie covered Rachel's warm sex with her hand and kissed her mouth. As their tongues met in an ancient dance, her fingers found their way home.

Rachel arched up into Stevie. "One more."

"I know." Stevie lifted her head and watched Rachel's green eyes as she added a finger to her penetration. "Do you feel me?"

Rachel released a long moan. "Oooh…I feel you, Stevie. I feel you."

Tears came to Stevie's eyes and she let them fall. It was alright to cry when you were in touch with the Divine. Moving slowly and deliberately, she drew her fingers out to the tips and then pushed in as far as she could go. Rachel's pleasure was naked on her face and Stevie drank it all in.

Stevie held her pace for long minutes. Rachel was so smooth on the inside and it wasn't just a matter of texture. The powerful muscles were opening to her with a welcoming softness; almost an eagerness to fully experience the gentle stroke of her fingers.

Rachel's hand came to Stevie's face and wiped at her tears. "Don't stop," Rachel whispered breathlessly. "Don't stop."

"I won't," Stevie promised. Shifting downward to get a better angle with her hand and arm, Stevie lowered her lips to Rachel's breasts.

Time had very little relevance as Stevie made love to Rachel. Conscious thought fled and she existed solely within the perception of Rachel's passion. The transition from rising passion to orgasm was seamless and left Stevie feeling spent. Rachel's internal muscles were clenched around her fingers now and Stevie made no attempt to remove them. Every few seconds there was a powerful contraction that was almost painful, but so incredibly erotic.

Stevie laid her head on Rachel's chest and listened to the racing heartbeat and laboring lungs gradually slow. Her whole body relaxed at Rachel's side and Stevie closed her eyes.

Rachel had a hand over Stevie's, holding her within. "Stay inside, baby."

Stevie just smiled. Rachel's other hand was stroking Stevie's hair and it felt amazing.

It was quiet in the house, but there were a few birds singing outside. Stevie could hear a breeze in the trees and the occasional passing of a car. Somewhere down the street, a couple of kids could be faintly heard as they played. It felt like the whole world was taking a little rest with them.

A gentle tug at her hand let Stevie know that Rachel was ready for her to move. It was with great reluctance that Stevie complied. Her fingers slid out of Rachel's body slowly and they both sighed. Stevie placed her hand over the shaven skin and refused to move any further.

"That was truly breathtaking," Rachel admitted with a smile in her voice. "It wasn't what I thought would happen today, but what a fabulous surprise."

Stevie only smiled wider.

"Are you okay?"

"Better than okay," Stevie breathed.

"Come up here, baby."

Moving was not easy, but a few minutes later Stevie was lying on her side facing Rachel. All she could do was smile. She just didn't have any strength for more. Soft hands caressed her face and coaxed her eyes open.

Rachel's face expressed a curious confusion. "Did you come?"

Stevie shook her head no and she thought about it for a moment. "Well, not physically. It's almost like my heart did."

"It was emotional?"

"Yeah." Stevie licked at her lips, gathered her courage and flung herself out into space. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

Rachel's eyes were troubled. "Cops are hard to love."

"I'm finding it pretty easy," Stevie said. "Should I stop?"

"Can you?"

"No," Stevie conceded, "but I don't have to tell you about it."

Rachel considered it and then leaned in for a kiss. "I don't want you to stop, and I always want to know what you're thinking and feeling. I can't make any promises yet, but I think I could fall in love with you, too."

"I hope so, because we didn't wait for the doctor's results. I wanted to be good, but I just couldn't stop."

"I have faith in us."

Stevie barely had time to smile before she was pressed back into the bed. Rachel's kiss melted her from the inside out. Stevie spread her legs and wrapped them around Rachel. Her body hungered to be consumed by Rachel's passion.

Rachel rose up on her arms and rocked her hips into Stevie. "I want to make you come with my mouth. Do you like that?"

"I think so," Stevie moaned. Rachel's hips were making it hard to breathe. "I only felt that once, but it was nice."

"Nice?" Rachel's smile was one of predatory amusement. "Baby, I'm going to eat you alive."

Goosebumps broke out over Stevie's entire body. It was almost scary to feel so aroused and out of control, but she trusted Rachel and she wanted to feel what Rachel was offering.

It was sublime. Rachel used only her mouth, but she left nothing untouched. Her long hair added to the onslaught of sensations like a million tiny fingers. Stevie couldn't catch her breath. Even the simplest kiss left her gasping.

When Rachel settled between her legs, Stevie stopped breathing. From the first touch of Rachel's tongue, it was more than Stevie thought she could feel and still live.

"You okay, baby?"

Stevie nodded desperately. She was beyond articulating anything. The next perfect pass of Rachel's tongue tore a cry from her throat. It all felt good, but when the tip of Rachel's tongue passed over her clit, it put her right on the edge of coming. Over and over, Stevie was taken to that edge and then pulled back.

"You taste so sweet."

Even the breath of Rachel's speech was arousing. Stevie put a hand in Rachel's hair, but she didn't try to control her. She wanted to feel like this forever.

Stevie groaned at the feel of Rachel's tongue entering her. It was hard to say if it was the actual sensation or knowing what was happening that made it feel so intense. She looked down her body to see Rachel's green eyes watching her. Stevie licked her dry lips and quipped, "Stevie likes it."

Rachel's eyes smiled back.

Stevie reached for her knees and opened herself further. She needed to feel everything Rachel was doing as completely as possible.

When Rachel finally drew her clit into her mouth, Stevie was undone. She came immediately and for a very long time. It was the most exquisite thing she'd ever felt. When Rachel moved up to kiss her, Stevie wrapped her arms around Rachel and concentrated on the slowly receding bliss.

"Thank you, baby," Rachel crooned. "That was beautiful."

"I should be thanking you," Stevie corrected.

"No," Rachel said gently. "Don't ever thank me for that. It's a privilege to be allowed to kiss your pussy."

Stevie couldn't help but flinch at that word.

Rachel saw it. "You don't like the word pussy?"

Stevie shook her head. "Not really."

"What do you call it?"

Stevie blushed.

"Come on," Rachel teased. "Tell me."

"It's embarrassing."

"Tell me anyway," Rachel grinned.

Stevie resisted until Rachel started tickling her. "Hoo-hoo!"

Rachel stopped and made a face. "Excuse me?"

Stevie was still blushing. "I call it hoo-hoo."

Rachel's eyebrows rose. "What are you…six?"

Stevie folded her arms stubbornly. "I don't like the p-word. It sounds nasty to me. At least hoo-hoo sounds like fun."

"It sounds like baby talk."

"No, it doesn't."

Rachel settled down on an elbow beside Stevie and tossed her hair back over one shoulder. "Sorry, baby. Hoo-hoo isn't going to cut it. Grown women don't call it a hoo-hoo."

"Well, I'm not going to call it the p-word. It's icky."

"Do you have a better name?"

Stevie slipped an arm under Rachel so she could play with all that gorgeous hair. "Maybe…kootch?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" Stevie argued. "Why is the p-word better than kootch? Doesn't it sound like the word a teenage boy would use while he whacks off to a nudie magazine?"

"And you think hoo-hoo and kootch would be better alternatives?"

"Better than calling it Little Stevie."

Rachel laughed. "We'll have to work on a better name. I can't call it a hoo-hoo with a straight face."

"And I can't call it the p-word without getting a bad taste in my mouth."

"I don't taste bad," Rachel teased.

Stevie pushed Rachel back and kissed her briefly. The desire to make love to Rachel was back with a vengeance. "I'll be the judge of that."

***

Howard Daly's mood was improving by the minute. He'd gotten home from work and his wife had nailed him to the wall with credit card receipts. He worked his ass off selling insurance, but she seemed to think he didn't have the right to spend any of the money. All he'd done was buy a single ticket to a minor league baseball game and she was acting like he'd snatched food out of the kid's mouths. Maybe things wouldn't be so tight financially if she didn't need manicures every other week. Pointing that out had sent her right over the moon.

Howard had left the house only seconds before a cast iron pan had hit the door.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to spend the evening in a strip club with ten-dollar drinks, but if the wife was going to be mad at him anyway, he might as well earn it.

Aside from employees, Howard was one of only three people in the club. Mondays were probably a slow night. The girl on stage wasn't bad. In fact, she was pretty damn sexy with those cute little titties, but she looked bored. Maybe if she'd act a little more enthusiastic, he'd be tempted to tuck a few bucks in the string they tried to pass off as panties.

Showing his empty glass to the bartender (who acknowledged his request with a nod), Howard shook a cigarette out of his pack and lit up. He drew the smoke deeply into his lungs and blew a smoke ring. His whiskey sour arrived a few moments later and Howard relaxed a little more.

The music changed and so did the dancers. Howard smiled as his dick took notice. The new girl was fine. She had a smokin' hot ass, big juicy tits and her hair would feel so fucking good on his groin.

Howard took another drag on his cigarette. Something about her was ringing an old bell. He felt like he'd seen her before. It wasn't like a lot of beautiful women walked into Howard Daly's life. Remembering one shouldn't be too difficult, but the memory was hiding on the edge of his thoughts.

He finished his cigarette and still couldn't remember. Knocking a fist on the bar, he beckoned the bartender to come closer.

"What can I get you?"

Howard nodded at the dancer. "What's her name?"

"She doesn't do lap dances," the bartender said in a bored tone.

"I just want to know her name. She looks familiar."

"Rachel."

"What's her last name?"

"Sorry, pal. First names only. You want another drink?"

Howard knew how things worked. "How much for her last name?"

The barkeep shook his head. "No can do. Unless you can afford to pay my rent till I get another job, I can't sell her name."

Howard opened his mouth to argue and it came to him. "I remember," he said in shock. "That bitch arrested me for a DUI last year."

The bartender looked at him intently.

"I was only point-oh-six, but she arrested me anyway. Said I was driving recklessly. What the hell is she doing dancing in a strip club?"

"Are you sure it was her? Maybe it was a sister or a cousin?"

"She had her hair pulled back in a braid, but I'm pretty sure it was her. Green eyes, right?"

"What was her name?"

Howard stared into his drink until it came to him. "Quinn. Officer Quinn. I wasn't even drunk, and she made my life hell for months. I hope they fired that bitch."

The bartender watched the dancer for a minute and then turned a smile on Howard. "I think that little tidbit is worth free drinks. If you'll give me your keys and your address, I'll make sure you get home in one piece."

"Seriously?"

The bartender extended his hand over the bar. "My name is Dennis and drinks are on me."

Howard hadn't been offered such a sweet deal in forever. He reached out and shook the man's hand with a sloppy grin. "Keep 'em comin', Dennis."

An hour later, Howard was unconscious because of a drug-laced drink. He slept in the backseat of his car for several hours, but he never knew it. In fact, he never knew anything ever again.

Shortly after the club closed for the night, the Police and Fire Departments were called to the scene of a burning vehicle across town. Identifying the vehicle and owner took less than an hour. It would take nearly a month to conclusively verify Howard Daly's remains by extracting DNA from his teeth. It was clearly murder, but the case would probably never be solved.

Chapter Eight

Stevie fussed over dinner on Tuesday night. She wanted it to be classy and romantic, but her best glasses had Toy Story 2 characters on them, so she had to buy everything new. She accomplished this during her lunch hours on Monday and Tuesday. She was a little shocked at how elegant it looked when she put it all together. Stevie had never considered decorating to be one of her talents.

For dinner, she made a Cajun style pasta primavera with shrimp. It was spicy without being hot and contained enough different food groups that she didn't need side dishes. For dessert, she had a fruit torte. Everything was pretty and smelled really good.

Rachel arrived right on time and seemed impressed by the whole thing. Stevie had even gone so far as to purchase a light, fruity wine to go with the meal. Rachel loved it. Of course, Stevie didn't know the first thing about wine, but she went to an artsy little wine store and asked for help. The woman had acted like a snob, but her advice had been very good.

Dinner was perfect. It was less about the food and more about the company, but the food didn't hurt. After dessert, they talked for a while with a new age guitar CD in the background and then quite naturally ended up in the bedroom.

Stevie was in heaven. It was the best date she'd ever had and making love was the icing on the cake. It was almost midnight when they fell asleep in each other's arms.

In the morning, Stevie woke up with the sun. Rachel was sprawled behind her. She rolled over and watched her sleep for a few minutes, but it was a workday and she decided to get ready before waking Rachel up. She took a shower, got dressed, and then made herself a bowl of cereal.

It occurred to her that if Rachel was going to spend the night once in a while, it might be a nice gesture to buy a coffeemaker. She would have to ask if Rachel had a preference in machines.

Stevie took her cereal into the bedroom and sat down on the bed to eat. Her mind naturally returned to the prior evening and their lovemaking. Rachel was an extraordinary lover. Stevie hoped that Rachel was happy with her skills. She didn't have much experience and didn't have a lot of confidence yet, but Rachel was having orgasms, so maybe it was okay.

Rachel's hair was spread out all over the pillows. Stevie was half tempted to get naked and roll around on it. She loved the feel of Rachel's hair on her skin. She wasn't sure if it was a fetish or not, but she was definitely addicted to it.

When she finished eating and put her bowl in the kitchen sink, she checked the time. She had twenty minutes to kill before she had to leave. Returning to the bedroom, she lay down with Rachel and gently woke her.

Rachel blinked and rubbed at her eyes. "You're dressed."

Stevie brushed Rachel's hair back and ran her hand down the smooth skin to the small of Rachel's back. "I have to go to work soon. I didn't want to go without saying good-bye, but you can stay here as long as you want. Sleep in, take a shower, eat…my house is your house."

Rachel smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "Mmm…you taste like bananas."

"I had one in my cereal, but feel free to eat anything you want."

"Is there time for me to eat you?"

Stevie blushed, but she was grinning. "I wish."

"Last night was perfect, baby. Dinner was awesome. You're an excellent cook. And the after-dinner entertainment was exquisite."

"Really?"

"You're very, very good, baby. The best kept secret in town. If the ladies knew how good you are, you'd never have time to do anything else."

Stevie wasn't sure how seriously to take that claim, but she wasn't going to argue about it. "I don't want anyone else. Only you."

Rachel drew Stevie closer. "You take sweetness to a whole new level."

They kissed until Stevie had to go and then they kissed a little more. Stevie was almost ten minutes late to work, but it was hard to care.

It was a good day. The Bobs behaved themselves and Stevie put an ad in the paper for a new employee. She did some work on marketing Mrs. Hennessey's games and was happy with the interest buyers were showing. She would keep putting the word out there, but she wasn't going to commit to anything for another month. Taking the first offer would be frustrating if the next day she had a higher one. She also wanted to talk to her accountant about how she could give the money to Mrs. Hennessey without her getting clobbered by taxes.

Since she wasn't going to see Rachel that evening, Stevie stayed late at the shop to do a number of simple jobs. She knew it was frustrating to customers when they had to wait a week to get a cleaning done. It was fair to do things in the order they came in, but sometimes you had to cheat a little in order to make the customers happy.

When she was done, Stevie locked up and went out the back door. As she stopped to set the deadbolt, she heard a step behind her. Before she could turn to look, an arm slipped around her throat and squeezed.

Stevie didn't have time to fight back. She could feel the pressure on her carotid artery and was shocked at how quickly her brain started shutting her extremities down. Her legs went first. When she sagged, it brought more pressure to bear, and her arms went numb. The pressure inside her brain made her eyes and ears feel like they were going to pop. Stevie's vision began to tunnel, and her soul cried in helpless fear.

As she felt herself descending into oblivion, her last thoughts were of her family and her lover. She grieved that she would not be able to say goodbye and then she passed out.

***

Rory ate dinner without tasting a single bite. His Mom was still talking to him, but his Dad hadn't said a word in his hearing since church on Sunday. So far as he knew, his parents hadn't spoken to each other in days. It was becoming unbearable.

When he finished eating, he took his plate into the kitchen and rinsed it off. Placing it in the dishwasher, he went back to the dining room. His parents were still sitting quietly at the table and the idea of spending the rest of the evening in his room sucked. Tucking his hands in his pockets, Rory took the plunge.

"I'm going to spend the night at Stevie's place. She said I could sleep on the couch whenever I wanted to." His father was scowling at him. "I can't handle your fighting anymore. I need a break."

He steeled himself against the tears in his mother's eyes and ignored the fiery threat in his father's. "I'll see you at dinner tomorrow."

Rory ran upstairs and put an extra set of clothes in his backpack along with his schoolbooks. He expected to be stopped when he went downstairs, but the way was clear. He got on his bike and rode away with a huge sense of relief. In truth, Rory was pretty nervous about what was going to happen. He loved both of his parents and he didn't want them to split up. He wanted to believe that his mother had a handle on it, but he just wasn't sure anymore.

Ever since Stevie had been excommunicated, the whole family had been thrown off balance. Nothing was like it used to be. The easy thing would be to blame it on his sister, but Rory couldn't do it. Love just couldn't be a sin. It wasn't fair to punish her for something she couldn't help and that didn't hurt anyone. Besides, it was pretty cool to have a sister who was so brave that she could stand up to God and family while still loving both. Rory hoped he would be as stalwart and true if he were ever tested so severely.

Stevie wasn't home from work when Rory got to her house. He waited for a while in case she had stopped at the store first, but after a half hour, he gave up. Jumping the fence to her backyard, he crawled under the deck and found her spare key. Rory let himself in. The silence was a bit creepy, but he fixed that by turning on the television.

Curious about where she was, he called her shop and left a message on the machine that he was looking for her. Calling her cell phone didn't work either. Maybe she was with Rachel, but Rory didn't have that number. He did, however, have Greg's number, but Greg hadn't seen her either. Rory thought about calling Dusty but decided there was no sense in worrying about her. Stevie was a grown woman and could take care of herself. Rory channel-surfed until he found a movie he wanted to watch and settled in to wait.

The phone rang at a quarter to nine and Rory quickly answered it.

"Hello?"

"Uh…is this Stevie's house?"

Rory recognized his sister's girlfriend. "Hi, Rachel. It's Rory."

"Hi! How are you?"

"I'm good. Is Stevie with you?"

There was a slight hesitation on the line. "No. I haven't seen her since early this morning. I'm getting ready for work and I thought I'd call her to say hello. Can you tell her I called?"

Rory debated on whether or not to express his growing worry, but he didn't want to sound like a little kid. "Sure, I'll tell her."

"Thanks, Rory. Hopefully I'll get to see you soon."

"I'll talk to Stevie about it. Catch you later."

He sat with the phone in his hand for several minutes. Rory admitted to himself that he was worried. Home, work and cell were the phones you could always reach Stevie on. He couldn't think of even once where he'd had to wait more than ten minutes to get a call-back. Rory had been waiting almost three hours. That just wasn't like his sister.

Rory started with her shop. His call went to the answering machine and he left another message. Next, he called her cell. She always had it with her, but it went to voice mail. Greg still hadn't heard from her. Rory told him he was worried, and Greg said he would make some calls.

Waiting was hard.

Half an hour later, Greg called back. "Her truck is at the shop," Greg said right off. "I'm looking in the windows, but the lights are off and it doesn't look like she's here."

"She's not with anyone," Rory said. "What should we do?"

Greg was quiet for a minute. "The cops won't do anything for at least a day unless there's evidence of a crime. It looks suspicious to me, but it won't for the cops. We can call them, but I doubt they'll be helpful. What about the Bobs? Did you call them?"

Rory felt a moment of bright hope. "I forgot about them."

"Okay. Call them and then call me back."

Rory found their number on the refrigerator and called.

"What?"

"Hi. Um…this is Stevie's little brother, Rory. I'm looking for Stevie. Have you seen her?"

"Not since work."

"What time was that?"

"About five. She was going to stay for a while and work on some of the easy stuff. She was in her office when we left. What's up?"

Rory was starting to feel sick to his stomach. "We can't find her. Her truck is still at the shop, but she's nowhere to be found. She's not answering her cell and I've been at her house all evening. Stevie doesn't disappear like that."

"She had a date yesterday. Maybe she had another one today."

"Rachel doesn't know where she is."

"Okay. Give me a minute and let me see if I can track her cell."

"Cool." It was a great idea. Rory didn't know which Bob he was talking to, but Stevie said they were both great at that sort of thing.

He peeked out the front window and checked the street. If her truck was still at the shop, maybe there was something wrong with it and she was on foot. It wasn't likely because the shop was only about an hour walk from her house, but it was still possible.

Rory could hear the click of keys over the phone and kept his fingers crossed that her location could be triangulated.

"Looks like her cell isn't on."

"So there's no way to track her?"

"Nope, but I'll keep an eye on it. If she turns it on, I'll see it. Should I call her or you if I get a fix?"

"Both. Thanks, Bob."

"No problem, kid."

Rory called Greg, but there was no new information. He heard Dusty arrive and the racing crew promised to look around and call him back.

It only took him a minute to decide to call his parents. Maybe that's where Stevie was, but if not, it was two more people to help find her.

His father answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Dad." Just hearing his voice made Rory feel like crying. It was embarrassing and it took him a moment to collect himself.

"Rory?"

"Dad, something's wrong. Stevie's missing."

His father's voice was harsh. "She's probably hanging out with her new friends. Maybe you should come on home, son."

Rory took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "All of her friends are looking for her, Dad. We found her truck, but she's not answering her cell. She's not anywhere. I'm worried about her."

"I seriously doubt she's in trouble, Rory. She's just lost track of time and she'll be home soon. Now, I think it would be best if you came home where you belong."

Rory didn't believe it for a second. "Can I talk to Mom, please?"

"Enough. I expect you home in fifteen minutes."

His father didn't even give him time to respond. There was a click and then a dial tone. Rory put the phone down in disbelief. He thought about calling right back, but his dad would answer the phone again.

Rory called his brother, Sam, but he got about the same response from his brother as he had from his dad. He tried to think of someone else he could call. Rory checked the phone numbers on Stevie's refrigerator and found one for Rick Davidson. He was getting desperate, so he called it.

"Hello."

"Brother Davidson…it's Rory Marks."

"Hi, Rory. How are you?"

He'd never been particularly close to Rick, but he felt an odd sense of relief at hearing his voice. "I think Stevie is missing. I don't know what to do. Will you help me?"

"Where are you?"

"At Stevie's house."

"I'll be there in ten minutes, Rory. Hang tough."

"Thanks, Brother Davidson."

There was nothing new to report by the time Rick Davidson arrived. Before Rory could say anything, Stevie's friend came bounding up the steps and gave him a guy hug.

"Call me Rick. What's going on?"

Rory told him everything he knew, and it made him feel much better. Having a grownup to help made a big difference.

"Alright," Rick said when he was done. "I think we should leave a note here in case Stevie comes home and go talk to your parents."

"Dad doesn't care."

"Let's give him another chance. If you or I go to the police, they probably won't listen as hard as if your folks make the report. We need them on our side."

It made sense. Rory wrote a note to tell Stevie she was being looked for and tacked it securely to the front door. He left his bike in the backyard and rode with Rick.

***

"Who was that?"

"Rory. Stevie's not there, so I told him to come home."

Helen watched her husband from the doorway for a minute. He was at his desk and appeared to be balancing the checkbook. She'd given him a chance to talk when Rory had left, but he had avoided her. Maybe it was time to try again.

She sat down at the chair in front of his desk and crossed her legs. "Are we going to talk?"

"Are you going to listen?"

There was a glass paperweight on the edge of his desk. Helen considered throwing it at him. "Define listen."

Jacob took off his reading glasses and sat back in his chair. "Why should I bother talking to you if you aren't going to listen to me? It seems like every time I open my mouth, you kick me in the teeth."

Helen knew that was probably true…from his perspective. The problem was that he just kept repeating the same things over and over. He didn't have anything new to add, so he just kept repeating himself as if she would eventually come to see things his way. "Alright. I'll listen. Make your case."

Jacob started with the duties and responsibilities of a wife and then segued into the rights and privileges of a husband. After that, he railed on the monstrous sin of homosexuality. He'd apparently been planning his dissertation for some time because it was absolutely littered with biblical references.

Helen was a little surprised it had only taken him thirty minutes to disseminate such a thorough opinion. On the other hand, she didn't hear anything she hadn't heard a thousand times before. She herself had been spouting that bile just weeks before.

It took another few minutes for Jacob to wrap it up. He ended with, "These are God's feelings on the matter. Not mine. It is not for us to question God. That way lies damnation."

Helen knew he was done, but she waited for him to officially end it.

"Do you have any questions?"

"No."

"Do you have anything to say about what I've explained to you?"

She had plenty to say, but before she could begin, the front door opened. Expecting Rory, she turned in her chair and called out, "We're in your father's office."

Rory opened the door seconds later. His eyes moved over both of them and settled on his dad. "Did you tell her?"

Helen looked at the frown of frustration on Jacob's face and then looked back at her son. "Tell me what?"

"Stevie's missing."

Helen's guts twisted with fear. "What?"

"She's probably out carousing with her heathen friends," Jacob groused.

"She is not!" Rory screamed at his father. He turned pleading eyes on Helen. "All of her friends are looking for her. Her cell phone is off so we can't track her with GPS. Her truck is still at her shop. Something's wrong, Mom. I can feel it. We've tried everyone we can think of and we think it's time to call the cops, but we don't think they'll listen to us."

Jacob slammed his hand on his desk and stood up. "Go to your room, Rory. Now. Sit down, Helen. We aren't done yet."

Helen held a hand out to Rory to stop him from talking. "Close the door, son. I'll be right out." She waited for him to comply and rounded on her husband. "Is this what it's come to?" she hissed. "Our son tells you that our daughter is missing, and you don't care? That's what he called about earlier, isn't it? And you didn't bother to tell me?"

Helen was so angry she was shaking. "If something has happened to Stevie while you sat on that information, I will never forgive you." She took a deep breath, but it didn't calm her at all. "Maybe while I'm gone searching for our daughter, you can look up the Bible verses that order you to stop loving your child when they don't do what you want. I want you to show me where it says you have the right to play God with your affections."

Young Rick Davidson was standing with her son when she opened the office door. He bowed his head to her and said, "I'm here to help."

"Thank you, Rick. Where haven't we looked?"

Neither of them was quick to respond. Helen assumed they had looked in every reasonable place they could think of. If there were places Stevie would go that they didn't know about, they needed to talk to someone who would know. The only person Helen could think of was Pat.

Digging her cell out of her purse, Helen found Pat's home number and dialed. She was very relieved when Pat answered. "Hi, Pat. It's Helen Marks. I know it's late, but we have a bit of an emergency here."

"What's wrong, Helen?"

"Stevie appears to be missing. Now, it might turn out to be nothing, but I'd rather make a fool out of myself than do nothing if she's in trouble. Is there a place in town where lesbians might hang out on a weeknight?"

"Let me think…there are a couple of places the guys hang out, but the girls tend to do events as opposed to living in bars and coffee houses. Still, if I were looking for lesbians tonight, I think I'd go to Amelia's. It's a little bar down on Franklin."

"Thanks, Pat."

"Let me know if I can help with anything else. I'll be waiting for your call."

Helen grabbed her purse and coat. "Let's go, boys."

"Where are we going?" Rory asked.

"A lesbian bar."

"Cool."

Helen smiled when she saw Rick smack her son in the back of the head. "You aren't going in, Rory. Rick and I will do it."

"Figures."

***

It was hard to be dynamic about dancing when no one was watching. Sure, there were the three businessmen (of dubious legitimacy) drinking together in the corner and two separate droolers were sitting next to the stage, but the ambiance of the club was tired and bored. Enthusiasm would be wasted on this bunch.

Rachel was still disappointed that she hadn't reached Stevie before work. It was way too late to call her now. There was only an hour left before the club shut down for the night and Rachel was trying to decide if it was appropriate or wise to go spend the rest of the night with Stevie. She really wanted to, but it hadn't been planned in advance. Plus, as an undercover operative, she really shouldn't be spending the night with her girlfriend. She wasn't supposed to be falling in love and having a good time.

Rachel had another ten minutes or so on her set. She adjusted for the rhythm of the new song just as Stevie's crew came in. Rachel faltered as they scanned the room and headed straight for her. She'd been hoping this wouldn't happen.

Strangely enough, Dusty wouldn't even look at her and Greg's eyes never went below her chin. Rachel checked the room, but Gary wasn't on the floor. Neither was Tom, but Dennis was watching. That made her nervous, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

"Have you seen Stevie?"

Rachel continued dancing in a haphazard fashion and shook her head.

"You're sure?"

That didn't sound right. Rachel folded her arms over her breasts and leaned down so she could hear him better. "I haven't seen her since early this morning. What's going on?"

"We can't find her. She's not answering her cell and she left her truck at work. Do you know if she was planning on going anywhere this evening?"

Rachel had a sick feeling in her stomach. "I expected her to be at home."

Greg shook his head. "No one's seen her or talked to her since five o'clock. Everyone she knows has been contacted. We called the police and they put out an APB, but they don't seem to be serious about investigating so we're rechecking everywhere and driving the most likely streets for her to be on. One of the Bobs is watching her GPS if she turns on her cellphone. If you want to help us when you get off work…"

"Absolutely," Rachel interrupted. "I'll contact…who should I call?"

"Hey!" one of the droolers called out. "I ain't paying eight bucks a drink for the beer!"

Rachel held one finger up to him. "Sixty seconds. I'll make it up to you."

Greg shook his head. "Asshole. Stevie's mom is at her house. You can call her. She's organizing the search."

"Okay." Rachel was thinking furiously. "What about Mrs. Hennessy?"

"Who?"

Dusty elbowed Greg. "The grass lady."

"Oh yeah. We'll check her, too."

"I wish I could leave work, but I can't. It's not that I give a damn about this job, but I just can't leave until the end of shift."

"It's cool, Rachel. We're all doing what we can, when we can. I'll let Mrs. Marks know that you're going to call."

"Thanks, Greg. You too, Dusty."

They left the club without looking back.

"Come on, girl. Dance."

She wanted to scream, but she couldn't. Unlike those who were looking for Stevie, Rachel was all but certain something terrible had happened.

And where was Tom? She'd seen him earlier, but not for an hour or so.

Rachel danced, but she felt the icy fingers of dread on her naked skin.

As soon as Tawny came out to take the stage, Rachel went straight to Gary's office. He had his feet up on the desk and was watching television. Rachel stepped inside his office with trepidation. "A friend of mine is in trouble. I'd like to leave early tonight."

Gary looked at the wall clock and then back to the television. "No."

"Why not? There are only five guys out there. You can't be making money. Wouldn't it make sense to let me go early and save a few bucks?"

"No. Get back to work."

"Why do you have to be a bastard? Why can't you be compassionate even one time? What's wrong with you?"

Gary didn't seem the least bit upset with her. He was just as bored as the rest of the club. "I'll make you a deal. Blow me and you can go."

Rachel couldn't help the look of distaste that came over her face. "Forget it. I wouldn't blow you to save my own life."

"Whatever. Get back to work."

Rachel left his office in disgust and decided she had to go. She wasn't going to learn anything new at the club and Stevie wasn't worth sacrificing for the case. She raced to the dressing room and pulled on her clothes. Grabbing her bag, she ran out to the club floor. Tom still wasn't there. Rachel went up to the bar.

"Dennis. Where's Tom?"

Dennis was wiping some glasses with a bar rag and he jerked his head to the left. "Downstairs."

As far as she knew, there was nothing in the basement worth spending more than ten minutes on. "What's he doing down there?"

"Beats the hell out of me. It's a slow night. Maybe he's napping."

Rachel put her hand out. "I need to talk to him. Can I borrow your key?"

Dennis put the glass and rag down on the bar with a sigh. "I can't give up the key, but I'll let you in."

Rachel had serious doubts about Dennis, but she couldn't leave without seeing Tom. He needed to know what was going on.

Dennis opened the basement door and stepped back. "Just make sure the door is locked when you leave."

"I will."

Rachel stepped onto the landing and peered down into the basement storage area. "Tom?"

"Run, Rachel!"

It was Stevie's voice. Before she could really wrap her mind around it, a foot slammed into the middle of her back and Rachel was falling over the flimsy railing. It happened so fast. Rachel couldn't breathe for a moment. One arm and one knee were screaming in agony.

"Rachel! Are you alright? Look at me, honey. Let me see your eyes. Don't you touch her!"

Rachel screamed when she was jerked up. Something was really wrong with her arm and leg. The pain was blinding. "Stopstopstopstop…"

"She's hurt! Can't you see that? Leave her alone, you rotten pig!"

Rachel was shoved into a chair and her wrists handcuffed to a pipe above her head. She could tell that her left wrist was broken by the grating of bone on bone. As soon as Dennis finished cuffing her, he moved to where Stevie was standing with her hands cuffed to an overhead pipe and punched her in the belly.

Stevie gasped for air. She was trying to curl in on herself, but she couldn't.

"I told you to shut the fuck up," Dennis warned. "One more word and I'll hurt your precious girlfriend. You got me?"

Stevie nodded as she struggled to pull air into her lungs.

Dennis grabbed Rachel by the hair and glared at her. "Fucking cop."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Rachel Quinn," he spat. "I know who you are." He twisted her head. "That's what happens to cops in this business."

Tom Dean was slumped over against a wall. There was a thick streak of blood on the wall behind him. "No," Rachel cried softly.

"If you want to live, you'll be quiet down here until I get back. Cause trouble and I'll rape your little sex toy there."

"If you touch her," Rachel growled at him, "I'll rip your throat out."

Dennis laughed. "No, you won't."

Rachel watched Dennis as he went back upstairs and locked the door. Her eyes went to Stevie. "Are you alright? Stevie?"

The young woman stood up straight and leaned as far forward as she could. "I'm okay. Are you hurt?"

Rachel was so grateful to see her. "I'm fine, baby."

Stevie shook her head. "If we're going to get out of here, I need to know how bad you're hurt. Your wrist is turning black. Is it broken?"

Rachel stared up at it. Her wrist really was turning black. It was also swelling. "It's broken alright. I think my right knee is broken, too. Maybe not, but it's hurting like crazy. Did he hurt you?"

"No. I love you, Rachel. I'll do my best to get us out of here."

Rachel tried to smile. "I just saw Greg and Dusty a few minutes ago. I guess half the town is looking for you."

Stevie was looking at the length of pipe she was handcuffed to. "I'm not going to wait for them. He shot Tom like he was nothing. I've never seen anyone die before and I don't aim to see it again. I'm getting us out of here if it's the last thing I do."

Rachel thought it might actually be the last thing Stevie attempted to do, but she wasn't going to say it. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to get a handle on the pain. Her wrist was probably going to swell even more, so she tried to move the cuff as far above the break as she could. There didn't seem to be a position for her knee that would alleviate the pain, so she tried to ignore it. "This is my fault."

"How so?"

Rachel rested her head on an arm. "I should have stayed away from you. I'm the reason you're here."

Stevie was quiet for a moment. "That may be true, but if you're here, this is where I want to be. I do wonder, though, what you were investigating here."

Rachel saw no more reason to hold back. "Methamphetamines. Someone is dealing quantity through the club. They're using the dancers to make drops around town and it's adding up to some serious product. We've got the drop sites and some of the smaller players identified, but we don't know where it's coming from. The information you brought us was critical. Looks like we didn't put it together fast enough. Damn, this hurts."

"Hang in there, honey. I'm working on it."

Rachel opened her eyes as Stevie swung her legs up to the ceiling. Hooking her legs over a beam, she worked a hand up to one of the pipe supports and began working at the bolts. "I was leaving work, and someone ambushed me," she explained. "I'm pretty sure it was Dennis. He choked me unconscious and I woke up here. I had a blazing headache at first, but it's gone now. If I can get a couple of these bolts to come off, I might be able to get myself off this pipe."

Rachel felt like she was still catching up after the fall. It seemed like everything was happening so fast. She couldn't believe Tom was dead. She'd been dancing while he died, and she hadn't even known it. Her partner was dead. She'd barely gotten a chance to know him, and he was dead.

Now her ineptitude was going to get Stevie killed as well. Killing Tom made it a pretty sure bet they weren't going to get out of the basement alive.

"Come on, come on, come on…yes!"

Rachel blinked through her tears. Stevie appeared to have a nut loosened. One wasn't going to be a lot of help and it didn't seem likely there would be another one that was only finger tight, but at least she was doing something.

It was hard to think past the pain in her knee and wrist. Rachel looked around the room. There had to be something she could do to help their situation. The storeroom was stacked with boxes of booze, new glassware, old chairs and past years of tax receipts and employee information. Nothing of any use was within reach of her good leg. Even if there were something, Rachel probably wouldn't be able to use it.

Stevie dropped down from the ceiling and rested for a moment. "Are you doing okay?"

Rachel shook her head slowly. "Not really."

"I'm going to get us out of here," Stevie promised. "All I need is one more bolt and then I think I can get free. When I do, what the best way out of here?"

"Up the stairs is the only way out."

"No, I meant…I don't know where we are in the building. Once we get upstairs, how do we get out?"

Rachel wiped away tears on her arm and pictured it. "The fastest way out would be left to the corner, then left around the bar to the front door, but he'll see us for sure."

"We have to assume he won't mind shooting us. Is there another way?"

"Right and right into the dressing room. Straight through and past Gary's office. There's an exit to the alley after the women's rest room. That's the way we leave at night because we park behind the building. If we can get past Gary, we might be alright."

"I'll have to carry you, but it's doable."

Rachel bit at the inside of her mouth to keep from crying. "I'm not much good to you, am I?"

"Don't be a goof. If I were the one with broken bones, you'd be the one to get me out of here. You can be the hero next time."

"Next time?"

"Well, let's hope there won't be a next time, but if there is…I'm going to sit back and let you do the saving. Deal?"

Rachel didn't find that amusing but bitching about it wasn't going to help them. She looked around again and saw her purse sitting half off the landing. "You know, if you can get loose, my cell phone is in my bag. We could call for help and let the police come get us. That way we wouldn't have to worry about getting shot."

Stevie was working on the second half of the pipe support. It was made out of two long screws coming down from the wood beam on either side of the pipe. A cross piece went under the pipe and two nuts held it on. Loosening the first one took the pressure off the second. Stevie seemed to be loosening both nuts to the last thread and making it look like the support was still intact. "My phone is in my back pocket. If I can get my hands down, I can call on my phone, too."

Rachel thought of something. "Greg said they tried tracking your phone, but they didn't get anything."

Stevie stopped working and looked at her. "I was charging it at work. I didn't turn it on when I put it in my pocket because I was going to be driving. If I can turn it on, Bob will see it and be able to tell everyone where we are."

"You don't have to make a call?"

"No." Stevie twisted to see her back pocket and shook her hips. She bounced a few times and then sighed. "My jeans are too tight." She looked up at the ceiling and then down at the floor. "Maybe I could shake it out if I hung upside down, but then it might break on the floor." Stevie looked around again as if studying her options. "Getting loose is still our best choice."

Rachel watched her back up to the next support and swing her legs up. She struggled with the nuts for a while and then abruptly stopped. "I wish I had a Leatherman's tool."

"I wish I had one to give you," Rachel said helplessly. "I wish I could do just about anything to be of help."

"You're my inspiration," Stevie said calmly. "Don't underestimate how important that is."

Rachel moved without thinking in an effort to make herself more comfortable and the bones in her wrist ground together. It was all she could do to keep from screaming. Freezing in position, she closed her eyes and panted in an effort to breathe through the pain.

"Are you alright?"

Rachel nodded slightly, but it was a lie. She was pretty sure she was starting to exhibit symptoms of shock. She felt dizzy and sick. Her skin was clammy and cold, but she was sweating. She was holding on, but it wasn't going to fix itself. She had to get help before too long or she'd be in real trouble.

"I hate that song," Stevie said.

The music from upstairs was just a pounding sound, but Rachel listened to it for a moment and recognized it as Roxanne by the Police. It wasn't one of her favorite songs either.

"What time will the music stop?"

"Two."

“What time did you come down?”

“About eleven-thirty.”

"Alright. I've got about twenty-five minutes to get this done before he's likely to come down here. Can you listen for the door and warn me if he comes back early?"

"Sure, baby." Rachel opened her eyes as Stevie turned sideways to the pipe and lifted herself. Her long legs came up and over the wood beam and Stevie wiggled into a balanced position. Her hands were more restricted as a result, but they were in the right place. "Look at you go," Rachel said softly.

Stevie grinned at her. "My mom gets the credit for that one. She made me take gymnastics one year."

"I'll make sure to hug her when we get out."

Rachel watched Stevie struggle with the support while she listened to the door. Every new song from upstairs meant less time for escape. She tried to hold onto hope, but pain was dragging her down to despair. Dennis was going to come back down soon and kill them both. Just like poor Tom…

Rachel frowned. "Why aren't we dead? Why are you here?"

Stevie paused in her efforts. "Maybe I'm leverage."

"For what purpose?"

"Maybe he wants to know what we know and who we told."

"Maybe."

"If he asks, I'm telling him," Stevie said simply. "I'd rather just die than get tortured to death and if he starts torturing you, I won't be able to keep a secret anyway."

Stevie had a point. Rachel's first instinct was to withhold information, but what was the point of that? What did she know that she shouldn't tell him? Holding out wasn't going to change anything. He'd already killed Tom, so he was going to disappear anyway. Besides, if he started torturing Stevie to make her talk, she wouldn't be able to stand it. She'd tell him anything to make him stop.

"Alright. If he asks, we tell him everything."

"Um…if this turns into a torture session, how long before the cops wonder where you are?"

Rachel considered it. She was starting to have trouble focusing. She just wanted to lie down and sleep. "I email a report every night after work, but I don't think anyone is sitting there waiting for it."

"What about Tom?"

A tiny flare of hope gave her some much-needed energy. "If neither of us sends in a report, it might be an hour or two before they start to worry, but I don't know how long until they react."

"Is this happening because of the information I found? Doesn't the timing strike you as too coincidental?"

Rachel wanted to deny it. "I don't know, baby."

"Oh well, it's not like it matters now. We'll figure it out later."

Stevie eventually found a way to use the chain of her cuffs to reduce tension on one side of the support. She rushed to get the nuts loosened, but the music shut off before she could finish. "Is he coming?"

"I don't know," Rachel admitted. "It takes a while to do the final clean up. I don't know if he'll wait or not."

Stevie shifted off the beam and lowered herself to the floor. Her fingers continued to twist the nuts to the last thread. "If we got out right now, someone would see us."

"I think so."

Stevie grabbed the pipe and tested it. "I can take off the nuts in just a few seconds and then maybe I can bust a joint or something. It's our only chance, but do I have enough time to do it now or should I wait? What if he just comes down here and shoots us?"

Rachel tried to think it through. "I don't think he'll shoot us right away."

"After one minute or sixty minutes, dead is dead."

"True." Rachel just didn't know the answer. "I think I'm going into shock, Stevie. I'm not thinking clearly. Do what you think is best."

Stevie closed her eyes for a few heartbeats and then opened them with a look of determination. "Waiting isn't really my style."

The four nuts were removed with a quick twist and the flat bars that held the pipe in place were dropped to the ground. Stevie wrenched the overhead pipe in a couple of different directions. For reasons Rachel didn't see, Stevie picked one direction over the others. Grabbing the pipe with both hands, she inverted herself and put the bottoms of her feet on the beam.

"Wish me luck, honey."

Rachel smiled a little. "Good luck, baby."

The door at the top of the stairs opened.

Stevie dropped her feet to the floor and Rachel looked to see who it was.

"Tawny!"

For a few seconds, Rachel felt overcome with relief, but Tawny stopped at the bottom of the stairs and put her hands on her hips.

"What the hell is going on down here?"

"Back for round two?" Stevie asked with a snarl.

In that moment she understood that Tawny was in on it, Rachel felt oddly betrayed. "Round two?"

Stevie sighed. "She seems to think that feeling me up will devastate me emotionally."

"Fucking dyke." Tawny was looking at the overhead pipe. "Looks like you've been a busy little beaver. Beaver. Get it?"

Rachel ignored the pathetic joke and searched Stevie's eyes. "She touched you?"

Stevie's face was stoic and non-responsive.

Rachel stared at Tawny until their eyes met. "You touched her?"

Tawny giggled. "Yeah. What are you gonna do about it, pig?" She strutted between them with an angry smile. "A pig and a beaver walked into a bar. Neither of them walked out. The end."

"Make sure you kill me," Rachel warned, "because I'm going to hunt you down if it takes the rest of my life."

"Better get cracking," Tawny spat. "You don't have a lot of time left."

Stevie struck like a snake. When she stopped moving, she was still hanging from the pipe, but Tawny was trapped between her legs. Tawny's head and one arm were trapped in front and Stevie was baring her teeth with the strain she was exerting. Rachel was surprised that Tawny was so quickly showing signs of passing out. She couldn't keep her eyes open and there was drool coming out of her open mouth.

"I don't want to kill her," Stevie strained. "Tell me when she's out."

Rachel felt something hard on the back of her head.

"Let her go," Dennis said intently, "or I'll kill Rachel. I don't need both of you."

Stevie made a sound of disgust and dropped Tawny to the ground. The dancer coughed a few times and rolled away before pushing herself up on her feet. She spit in Stevie's direction and then pointed at her. "She tried to kill me."

Dennis took the gun from Rachel's head and finished walking down the stairs. "What did you expect, you dumb bitch?"

"I wasn't trying to kill her," Stevie said.

"Shut up." Dennis noticed the hardware on the floor and looked up at the pipe. "How'd you get those off?"

Stevie showed him her fingertips. They looked raw even from a distance. "Elbow grease."

Dennis grabbed the pipe and tried to move it. It didn't move very much, but he'd grabbed it next to a support and not in the center of the loose section. He seemed to think it was still secure, but Rachel could see that his assessment was faulty. She didn't know if Stevie could disconnect it somehow, but she didn't think it was beyond the realm of possibility. In fact, it was the only hope they had.

He turned back to Rachel, but she was watching Stevie. Tawny was holding her throat and she walked a little too close. Stevie casually kicked her in the groin so hard it lifted her right off the ground. Tawny dropped like a sack of potatoes and a thin whine came out of her throat.

Dennis looked down at Tawny and then pointed his gun at Stevie. "What did you do?"

Stevie shrugged as best as she could. "I'm not stupid. I know I'm going to die down here. I just thought it was fair for me to give her something to remember me by."

Tawny was having trouble breathing, but one hand was in the air in the shape of a gun and it kept waving at Stevie.

"One more problem from you and I will kill you."

"Okay."

Rachel could hardly believe how Stevie was acting. She'd never seen such bravery before. She was feeling a little fuzzy around the edges now, but she tried to look and act unaffected when Dennis focused on her.

"I want you to tell me everything you think you know about me, about Tawny and about the club. If you refuse, I will rape your girlfriend. If you still refuse, I will put a bullet between her eyes and then I'll start on you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Start talking."

Rachel gave it all up. Everything she could remember about the case up till that point and everything they suspected. When she got to the information Stevie had collected, Stevie stepped in and told him all of it. She did not, however, say anything about the Bobs.

It took a while, but by the time they were done, Tawny was sitting on the bottom step and Dennis had his arms folded where he was leaning against the wall. He stood there thinking for a few minutes and Stevie ventured a question.

"How did you figure out that Rachel was undercover? Was it something I did?"

He smirked at Rachel. "A customer recognized you from a traffic stop. They really shouldn't have put you undercover in the same city. Fucking amateurs."

Rachel was shaking now, and it was hard to feel which way up was. She knew she was in deep trouble. If she didn't get medical attention soon, she was probably going to die of shock. "Now what?"

Tawny stood up gingerly. She might be functional, but it was clear she was still hurting. "I want to kill the tall one. Give me the gun."

When Dennis held out the snub-nosed revolver, Rachel shook her head in denial. "Please. Don't kill her. Please."

Stevie was standing tall and proud. There was grief in her face, but she gave Rachel a genuine smile. "I love you, Rachel. I'll wait for you on the other side."

"Gag me," Tawny drawled. "You two are so pathetic." She walked over in front of Stevie, but not too close, and pointed the gun at her. "Say goodnight."

Rachel screamed, "Noooooo!" just as Tawny swung the gun towards Dennis and pulled the trigger.

Dennis staggered back against the wall. He looked stupidly at his chest and then at Tawny. "Why?"

The dancer dropped her arm to her side. "Sorry, stud, but you've been made. It won't be long before they figure out who you really are. Having you around is too much of a risk."

Rachel watched Dennis slide down the wall, leaving a blood stain much like Tom's. She couldn't help feeling like he'd deserved it.

Tawny sighed dramatically and turned around. "He really was good in bed. Too bad he had to die. Too bad for you, too." She smiled at Rachel. "I liked working with you once you quit that constant puking thing. Good God, that was disgusting. And you," she said to Stevie, "killing you is gonna make me feel a whole lot better."

"You like the killing part, don't you?"

"It's like getting high. Way better than drugs."

Stevie let her disgust show. "You're defective. Something is wrong with the way your brain works."

Tawny laughed. "Smart don't mean shit when someone else has the gun."

"At least someone loves me. You'll never know what that's like."

Tawny pointed the gun at Stevie and Rachel held her breath. She wanted to tell Stevie to shut up and stop baiting the psycho bitch, but it looked like it was too late. All she could hope for was that Tawny made the shots in quick succession. If she had to watch Stevie die, she wanted to be only a second behind her.

Tawny abruptly dropped her arm and started up the stairs. "I think I'll enjoy this a lot more if the both of you suffer. Just thinking about you two spending your last moments gazing into each other's eyes as the air gets hot and smoky makes me feel like having an orgasm. Will you die from the smoke or the building falling on you? Gosh, I might even have multiples. Toodles, girls."

The instant the door at the top of the stairs closed, Stevie's feet practically jumped to the beam over her head. Her whole body strained at the pipe. It shifted with creaking groans, but it was slow. Stevie never let up the pressure. After several minutes, Stevie was at a ninety-degree angle to the floor. Her feet were still on the beam and her head was at the lower end of the angle.

Rachel could only watch with awe. She'd never seen anything like it.

The next support in line suddenly gave with a twang and Stevie fell to the floor. Without Stevie's weight to hold the pipe down, it snapped back toward the ceiling, dragging her back up by her wrists. Stevie jumped to her feet and moved towards the newly broken support. It was further from the stairs, but it looked to Rachel like it went from the ceiling to the floor without any brackets. It might be more likely to break at that point.

"Hang on, honey," Stevie said as she shoved a few boxes with her feet. "We'll be out of here soon."

Rachel believed her. She rested her head against her good arm and closed her eyes. She'd never felt so sick and disoriented in her whole life. It was hard to pinpoint where she hurt anymore because her entire body was throbbing. It was more than just the broken wrist and injured knee. Rachel had never really taken shock seriously before. If she lived through this, she was going to make sure her fellow officers took it seriously in the future.

The fire alarm went off upstairs.

"Drat," Stevie cursed. "Stop lollygagging and get the job done, Marks."

Rachel didn't open her eyes until she heard Stevie growling with the effort and metal started tearing. The pipe snapped suddenly, and boxes fell on Stevie. Seconds later, Stevie was up and diving towards the end of the pipe. There was a bit of struggle and then Stevie flew backwards onto the floor. She rolled over onto her knees and almost dove at Rachel.

The young woman didn't touch Rachel, but she was darting here and there while she checked out what she was up against.

"I love you, Stevie," Rachel said weakly. "Wanted you to know."

Stevie came close and looked her in the eyes. "You don't look like you feel so good."

"Pretty bad," Rachel admitted. "You're so beautiful."

"If you think you're going to die, you better rethink that. I'm not done with you by a long shot." Stevie looked at Rachel's hands and made a decision. "We don't have much time. Smoke is coming in around the door. We have to leave now. I'm really sorry, honey, but this is going to hurt."

Rachel looked up at her hands as Stevie gently wrapped both hands around Rachel's left hand above the break.

"Forgive me," Stevie whispered.

Rachel screamed when she felt the bones in her hand snap. She screamed again when Stevie forced her hand through the handcuff.

Rachel was not entirely conscious as Stevie put her cuffed hands around Rachel and hefted her over her strong shoulder. Every step Stevie took drove Rachel further from awareness. She heard Stevie coughing at several points and she was pretty sure she heard shattering glass, but then she got very cold, and her memories went dark.

***

Helen got to the hospital before the ambulance did. She was not the only one. Stevie's friends and employees were right behind her. She held Rory's hand as the first emergency vehicle pulled up. Helen recognized Rachel on the gurney. Her skin was a pasty grey color and she looked waxy. It made her fearful for her daughter.

As Rachel was wheeled inside, another ambulance pulled up. Helen recognized her daughter's sneakers when the doors opened, and she put a hand to her mouth to hold back a sob. There was an oxygen mask on Stevie's face, and she was coughing violently. Seeing her daughter in pain was agony. Helen followed Stevie inside, but she was careful not to interfere. This was not the first time she'd had to wait for news about her daughter's condition. It was never easy.

What had happened to them?

Over the next ten minutes, eleven police cars showed up and the officers met in a waiting room. She heard one asking at the desk about the condition of Officer Rachel Quinn. She clearly remembered Rachel telling her that she worked at a night club.

Helen turned to the people Stevie called friends. "Somebody better tell me what's going on."

Chapter Nine

Helen was exhausted, but she still had one more duty to perform. Between Stevie's friends and the police, she had a pretty good idea what had happened, though the final events were somewhat of a mystery. Everything was still under investigation. She looked back through the glass one more time at her daughter.

Stevie had pulmonary edema from smoke inhalation, and she was in a coma. Her fingertips looked like raw hamburger, but her lungs were the real danger. Stevie was drowning in her own fluids. The doctors wouldn't even try to guess what the odds were.

A man and woman were standing at the next window. The man had his arm around the woman, and it made Helen sad for her own relationship. The woman had a salt and pepper version of Rachel's hair and Helen decided to take the risk.

"Excuse me. Are you Rachel's family?"

They turned to her and it was the man who answered. "Yes, we are. I'm Darius Quinn and this is Rachel's mother, Selene Wright. Are you with the Department?"

"No. I'm…uh…My name is Helen Marks. My daughter…" Helen pointed back at Stevie's room. "I think our daughters are…friends."

The two of them looked at each other and Selene Wright reached out to take her hand. "They told us Rachel was saved by someone. Was that your daughter?"

"I think so, but I don't know exactly what happened. I met Rachel once. Is she alright?"

Selene answered. "She needs surgery on her left hand, but she's in shock. They can't fix her hand until she stabilizes. How is your daughter?"

Helen looked through the window at Rachel and sent up a prayer for her. "Stevie's in a coma. She was conscious when she got here, but now…she has pulmonary edema."

"Are they just friends?" Selena asked.

Helen wasn't sure how to answer that. Did they know about their daughter? It seemed they might. "I'm not sure, but I've got the sense they're…dating."

Rachel's parents smiled. "Maybe we should get to know each other then," Darius said. "Perhaps we could have lunch?"

"I'd like that," Helen said with some relief. "I'll look for you later. I need to make a phone call."

Selene patted her arm. "We'll keep an eye on your daughter, too."

It was irrational to think they could do anything, but it felt better to know someone would be watching over Stevie. "Thank you."

Cell phones wouldn't work in the hospital, so Helen had to go out to the parking lot. The sun was up, but it was a rather colorless day. Not far from her car was a bench and Helen chose it rather than sitting in the car. She dialed her house and listened to it ring.

"Hello."

The sound of her husband's voice brought so many memories; most good; a few not so good. "Good morning, Jacob."

He breathed in and spoke softly. "You didn't come home."

Tears rolled down her face and she fought to keep her voice calm. "I'm at the hospital. Stevie's in Intensive Care. She's in a coma."

Jacob cleared his throat. "What happened?"

"I don't have the whole story, but it seems she saved the life of an undercover police officer last night. She inhaled too much smoke in the process and now her lungs are filling up with fluid." Helen paused for a moment to swallow tears. "I think we've had a pretty fair marriage, Jacob. You were the breadwinner, and I was the housewife. I hope you think I did a decent job of raising our children and taking care of your needs over the years. When times were hard, I did everything in my power to save money and scrape pennies together."

"I never felt like you weren't working just as hard as I was, Helen. In fact, I think you worked harder than I did if you add it all up."

It was good to hear that. "I've asked you for a few things over the years, Jacob, and you always came through. Not always with exactly what I wanted, but with what our family needed. I've never asked you for anything really big. Not ever. I'm asking today, Jacob. Stevie needs you. In your capacity as a representative of God's will, and as her earthly father, I am begging you to give her a blessing. Speak to God and ask him to spare her. She's good, Jacob, on levels I am just now beginning to understand. Please, don't let my baby die."

Agony was clear in Jacob's voice. "Do you think I don't love my own child? Do you think I want my little girl to die? I can't help her, Helen. I can't. She's chosen a path I can't condone. She's forsaken and nothing I do can…"

"If you refuse to help her, I want a divorce."

It felt like the shrubs and flowers around her drew back in horror and a chill wind passed over her. The idea of leaving her husband was appalling to her, but if he didn't try to help their child, she would never be able to look at him with love in her heart again.

"Helen…"

"Maybe a father's love for his children is different than a mother's love," Helen said with primal sadness. "She still loves you, Jacob. Even if you can't show it to her anymore, she still loves you."

Helen disconnected without waiting for a reply. She covered her face with her hands and tried not to cry. She felt someone sit down beside her and wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"Have faith, Sister Marks."

Helen turned her face into Rick Davidson's shoulder and wept.

***

There were moments since coming home when Rick felt considerably older than twenty-one. He found himself behaving like a much older and more experienced man. What really surprised him was that no one else found it odd. This, however, might be pushing his mojo too far.

Rick walked across the showroom floor like he owned the place. Technically, he worked here so no one questioned him. He smiled at the receptionist and walked right past her into Jacob Marks' office. The oldest Marks boy, Sam, was sitting across from his father. "Good morning," Rick said in a stern tone. "I'm glad to find both of you here."

Jacob Marks looked ten years older than the last time Rick had seen him. "Hello, Rick. Is there a problem?"

"Yes, sir." Rick squared his shoulders. "I've come to offer my counsel before you lose your entire family to hatred and intolerance."

Jacob came up out of his chair like a freight train on steroids. "How dare you!"

"Looks like I got here just in time," Rick said over the force of Jacob’s rage. "That kind of hate and anger doesn't come from God. It comes from twisting the word of God to do the devil's work."

"You are so fired," Jacob Marks spat across his desk.

Rick dropped to his knees. "Pray with me, Brother Marks. Pray with me for guidance from God to save your family."

Sam stood up from his chair. "I think you should leave, Rick."

Rick kept his eyes locked on Jacob Marks. "How long has it been since you spoke to God, Brother Marks?"

The older man froze.

Rick nodded at him. "It's time, sir."

Anger faded from Jacob's face and his head bowed.

***

Rachel blinked her eyes open. It was bright and she knew right away that she was in the hospital. There were a few dull aches and her mouth felt like a forgotten desert, but she didn't think it would be appropriate to complain. In truth, she was surprised that she was alive.

A worried face was suddenly looking down at her and Rachel smiled. "Hi, Mom."

Her mom was trying not to cry. "How do you feel, sweetheart?"

"Thirsty." Rachel cautiously looked around. "Where's Stevie?"

"She's being treated for smoke inhalation. Let's get a doctor to come take a look at you, alright?"

Rachel knew her mother and she could tell that something was terribly wrong. "Mom?"

"One thing at a time, sweetheart."

Ice chips were placed in her mouth and Rachel sucked on them gratefully. A nurse came in and took her vital signs, followed by a doctor who listened to her chest for a long time with his eyes closed. He seemed satisfied with what he heard and explained her condition.

The big shock was that it was Saturday afternoon. She'd been unconscious for two and a half days while her body struggled with shock and surgery on her hand. The look in her mother's eyes told her that her recovery had been uncertain for a good part of that time. Her brush with death had not ended when Stevie saved her.

Rachel's kneecap had been dislocated in the fall. It would be sore for a while and she would need to do specific exercises with it to facilitate its full recovery, but it was considered a minor injury.

Even the broken bones in her hand and wrist were not terrible. An orthopedic surgeon had put in a few pins here and there, but in six to eight weeks she would be out of the cast. Rehab would take a while, but she was expected to make a full recovery.

A brace was put on her knee and Rachel was encouraged to get out of bed. She felt dizzy and weak, but she could walk. Rachel sat down on the edge of the bed and gloried in being alive. The doctor left and Rachel put her good arm out for a hug from her mom.

"I really missed you and Dad," Rachel said as her mother tried not to cry. "I have so much to tell you, but I need a favor."

Selene Quinn stepped back and wiped at the tears on her face. "Anything, sweetheart."

"Two favors, actually. I'm guessing there's a detective here somewhere waiting to talk to me."

Selene nodded. "Two of them. Plus, a half dozen cops. They've been very supportive."

"I need to talk to them in private."

"Alright."

"But first…I need to know how Stevie is. I need to see her if I can."

"Are we wrong in assuming Stevie's your girlfriend?"

Rachel smiled at her mother. "I never could hide anything from you, could I?"

Selene smiled back. "Your father and I have gotten to know her mother quite well. In fact, your father is with her right now. We've jointly informed the hospital that you two are in a relationship. You can't make medical decisions for each other without legal documentation, but you don't need my help to see her."

"Thanks, Mom."

The detectives came first. It was a difficult conversation because of Tom Dean's death, but Rachel told them everything she knew; even when it made her look less than competent. They listened without judging and took notes; both of them expressing amazement that she was still alive. The truly in-depth interviews would come later when she felt stronger.

Things got noisy when her co-workers came in to see her. Rachel wasn't particularly close to any of them, but there was an inherent camaraderie between police officers. They understood each other and it made for an instant bond. They grieved with her for Tom's death and celebrated the fact that she lived. Rachel was getting tired, but she told them of Stevie's extraordinary efforts to escape, knowing that they would take Stevie into their hearts for her heroic actions.

Her mother returned when her co-workers left and helped her get settled in bed. Rachel ate some Jell-o and had a good long drink of cold water before she fell asleep.

Her father was sitting beside her when she woke. The lights were low, and it was dark outside. He was reading a book and Rachel studied his face before he knew she was awake. Her father was a handsome man, but it was the smile lines around his eyes that really made him stand out. She had so many wonderful memories of him growing up. Every child should be so lucky as to have a father like him.

"I love you, Daddy."

His eyes came up and a smile followed. "I love you, too, Rachel. I can't tell you how happy I am you're alright."

"That makes two of us."

With his help, Rachel got out of bed and made a trip to the bathroom. It was quite the feat given the IVs and monitors attached to her. When she came out, she sat down in her father's lap and let him hold her. It was the second safest place in the world.

"Dad? Tell me how Stevie is doing?"

He took a deep breath and held her more securely. "She's alive, Rachel, but she's in critical condition."

Rachel struggled to hold back her fear.

"She had some minor bruising, and her hands were a mess, but her lungs are the real issue. At some point, she took a breath of super-heated air. It burned the inside of her throat and lungs. They wouldn't admit it in so many words, but I don't think the doctors thought she would make it through the first day. Stevie's been a real fighter. Yesterday they started hyperbaric oxygenation. She's shown some real improvement since the first treatment, but they're still suctioning fluid from her lungs on a regular basis so she doesn't drown."

Her father always gave it to her straight, no matter how difficult it was to hear. And then he was there to put the pieces back together. Rachel cried on his shoulder for a short time and then pulled it all back.

"I need to see her, Dad."

"Okay," he nodded. "Hop up and I'll get you a wheelchair. I can't be having my little girl walking the halls with her bottom hanging out."

"Dad? You know I was working as a stripper while I was undercover?"

"And I'm sure it was purely artistic and tasteful. This is different."

Rachel had to laugh at his desire to be oblivious.

Stevie was down two floors in a basement wing. The hyperbaric chamber was set to one side in a large room and there were two nurses keeping an eye on her. Stevie's mother was sitting in a chair next to the chamber. She appeared to be asleep.

Rachel's father moved her close to the head of the chamber and she leaned forward to see Stevie. Her heart didn't know whether to break or not. Stevie looked like she was sleeping, and her color was good, but there was a large breathing tube coming out of her mouth and a collection of IVs taped to her neck. Gauze pads were taped over her eyes.

Rachel put a hand to the glass and wished she could just touch Stevie. If she could feel her skin, she would know she was real.

"Rachel."

Mrs. Marks was awake and reaching for her. Rachel reached back and they shared a clumsy hug. "How is she?" Rachel asked.

"Holding her own. How are you?"

"Surprisingly good," Rachel admitted. "The fact that I'm breathing at all is because of Stevie. She saved both of us."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Rachel told the story again in greater detail. A mother should know when her child has achieved the impossible. The nurses listened in, too. It would be so easy to see Stevie as nothing more than a body that might heal or might not. If telling everyone the kind of hero Stevie was would get her better care, Rachel would tell every person in the hospital. Twice.

She got her chance to touch Stevie when she was taken out of the chamber. Stevie was spending two hours in the chamber and two hours out. A doctor came and listened carefully to her chest and then suggested she be given a bronchoscopy the next time she came out. When Rachel asked what that was, they explained the process of suctioning excess fluid out of Stevie's lungs.

It really made Rachel see how dire things were for Stevie.

Stevie's IVs were checked and adjusted; drops were put in her eyes to treat the slight damage from so much smoke; the bandages on her hands were checked; and lip balm was put on her mouth.

Rachel spent the next hour and a half whispering her love and encouragement into Stevie's ear before she went back into the chamber. She had secretly hoped that her presence and voice would bring Stevie back to awareness, but there was no response at all. When the hyperbaric chamber began its cycle, Rachel couldn't help crying.

Stevie's mom patted Rachel on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry, honey. That monitor right there is her brain function. She's still in there."

Being able to see that Stevie's mind was still vital made all the difference in the world.

***

Continued

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