I-91
by Rae
Third in the Savior series:
As soon as they crossed into Vermont, Starsky started looking for naked people. He didn't want to confess his disappointment when none seemed to be immediately around, so instead he complained about the car.
"Four wheel drive," he said. "She told us to rent a car with four wheel drive. That can't be good."
"Well, at least it's red," Hutch said, without any trace of disparagement.
"This isn't red. This is Jeep Comanche Orange. And greenish orange at that." He looked away from the road. "Maybe we need to get you a color blind test." They probably had eye doctors in Vermont.
"Just watch where you're going, will you?" Hutch grabbed hold of the arm rest.
Starsky knew he was driving perfectly well. Hell, it was a straight road, zero traffic, middle of the afternoon, cloudless summer sky. Hutch just wanted to keep him on edge. So he swerved and yelled "MOOSE!" just to play along.
"I think it was a leaf, Starsk." Hutch grunted and moved around in the seat.
"So tell me about this place again? What are we going to do all week? Probably there's a movie theater, everywhere's got a movie theater." He hoped. "Maybe they have HBO in the cabin. We can probably try a different restaurant every night. Or diners. Maybe there's a diner for breakfasts."
"Uh, well, the woman who owns the place makes breakfast every morning. She gets the eggs right out from under her own chickens." He looked through his packet of sightseeing brochures. "Oh, here you go. The Dam Diner." Starsky raised an eyebrow, so Hutch spelled it for him and read the description. "It's near a dam. And a fish ladder."
Starsky saw the glance he gave him, so he made sure to grin appreciatively, though the thought of an egg still warm from the hen seemed vaguely obscene. He didn't ask what a fish ladder was, though. Playing dumb was one thing. Being dumb was another.
He saw Exit 1 slip past, and moved right, ready for Exit 2. Hutch picked up the paper with the directions. Almost there after a long day. Even the movie on the plane had been boring—he didn't even remember what it was. At least he hadn't thought about the kid for a good, well, thirteen minutes. And this car . . . if you could call it that. He was afraid to find out why the cabin's owner had insisted on four wheel drive.
He had a bad feeling Hutch was afraid to tell him.
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