Looking up, he saw that the tall woman who’d been seated at the far end of the counter had left her stool and come over to inspect him. He’d been so intent on the activity outside that he hadn’t noticed her approach.

Big girl, he thought. Heavyset throughout but well proportioned. Broad smile, intensely blue eyes, blond shoulder-length hair that ended in soft curls. The simple beige dress she had on had been cut more for comfort than looks. She stared straight at him, too, not demurely off to one side. There was nothing subtle in her query, her gaze, or her stance.

“What makes you think I’ve got a problem?”

“I’ve been watching you. When you came in you were pretty relaxed. Now all of a sudden you’ve gone tight. I like watching people.” She gestured at Jed and grinned. “Think your friend’ll mind if I sit down next to him?” Without waiting for a reply, she slid into the seat opposite. “Wish I could say he’s kinda cute, but he’s actually sorta ugly.” To further illustrate the point, she opened her mouth and shoved her right index finger partway inside.

“That’s okay. Jed handles criticism better than most of the people I know. See? Your comments don’t bother him at all. ’Course, it helps to be dead. Just don’t touch him.” he added when she made a move to lift one of the alien’s arms.

“Why not?” Her fingers hovered.

“Just don’t. If you do, I can’t be responsible for the consequences.”

“Aw, that’s all right. A little guy like this wouldn’t hurt me. I can tell.”

Before lie could make a move to stop her, she’d slipped an arm around the body and cuddled it close, like a favorite childhood doll rescued from the dump.

“There, you see? He doesn’t mind.” She examined the triangular face. “Is it a ‘he, or should I just think of it as an it?”

Ross eased back against his side of the booth. First contact with Jed had initiated all manner of reactions these past weeks, but contact with this woman didn’t seem to inspire anything. The alien simply leaned limply against the tall female shape, a situation not to be despised.

“I think of him as a he,” the Texan explained softly. He was not looking at her.

She frowned slightly. “Why are you looking out the window?” Leaning to her left, she tried to peer through the blinds. “Cops after you?”

He jerked around sharply to face her. “What makes you think the police are after me?”

She made a face. “Are you going to answer all my questions with paraphrases?” She gestured toward the parking lot. “I can see all those cars out there. They’re full of people not going anywhere. That says to me that they’re waiting for something, or for someone.”

“The cops aren’t after me.” He debated whether to explain further before deciding, what the hell. “It’s more like the army.”

For the first timer she evinced real surprise. “You don’t look like the deserter type. Wrong haircut, for one thing. Your posture isn’t military, either.”

“I’m not. I’m just a guy from Texas.”

“Oilfield worker.” She indicated his left hand. “You’re missing your third and fourth fingers. Roughnecks are always missing body parts. We get a few of them through here.” Again that engaging smile. “Roughnecks, not body parts.”

“Why don’t you just go back to your coffee? You don’t want to get involved.” He returned his attention to the pretematurally active parking lot, trying to decide what to do next.

“What’s the matter, don’t like my company? Besides, if I want to ‘get involved,’ it’s none of your business. If I should take a notion to jump into the ocean, ain’t nobody’s business if I do.”

Her singing voice was much higher than the one she used for speaking. Almost girlish, he thought. He winced as she squeezed Jed close, but there was still no reaction from the alien or its suit. He eyed her with a mix of curiosity and astonishment.

“I’m Caroline. I don’t much like cops. I don’t know enough about the army to dislike it, but if they’re after you, then I don’t think I like them, either.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” he replied briskly.

“Sure I do. You’re big, polite to an old waitress, you’ve got one hell of an appetite, you’re not so bad looking not great, but not so bad … and you run around with a funny friend.” She turned to study the alien. “It’s pretty soft. What’s it made out of, anyway?”

“Old cheese, for all I know,” he grunted. He didn’t think they’d wait outside much longer. “I found him. Named him Jed. He’s an alien. A real alien. Dead, but real.”

“Well hell, any fool can see that. Pretty well preserved, too. Must be the suit.” She fingered the material. “Wonder what this stuff’s made out of?”

“I haven’t a clue. All I know is that the army’s real interested in him, and in me.”

“I bet.” She squinted through the blinds. “That your Cadillac they’ve got sandwiched?”

He nodded. “I figure they’re expecting me to walk out when I’m through eating, so they’re holding off picking me up until they can do it with no witnesses.”

“Makes sense. How long have you been keeping one step ahead of them?”

Keeping his voice low, he leaned over the table. “You know, I’m probably gonna be on my way pretty quick here to some super-secret laboratory or government installation. I don’t need any sarcasm from you.”

“Why not?’ she replied innocently. “You’re not going to find any in the army.” As she spoke she wagged a finger in his face. “Now, according to what you say, as seen as you step out that front door, they’re going to hustle you into one of those waiting cars or trucks, is that it?” He nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

He soon found out.

“Then why don’t you and your friend come with mc?” She glanced over her right shoulder. ’Pere’s a back door, for employees. I know because l’ve been eating here fairly frequently and they let their regulars park out back.”

Now she had his full attention. “You’ve got a car out back?”

“Sort of. It’s a nice, nondescript, late-model Ford van. If they hold off for another half hour we can put a lot of mi les between you and them.”

Despite the fact that he had little time to waste on rumination, he did so anyway. “How do I know you’re not with them? Maybe you’re just trying to get mc out of here voluntarily so I won’t have the chance to make a scene.”

“Because if I was with them I wouldn’t have said what l’ve said. I’d be saying something like. ‘Please, Mister’—what did you say your name was?”

“Hager. Ross Ed Hager.”

“I’d be saying something like, ‘Please. Mr. Hager, won’t you step outside voluntarily and not make a scene?’ There’d be no need for mc to suggest slipping out the back way. Besides, what’ve you got to lose?”

“At this point, not much.” Lips tight, he nodded in the direction of the lot. “Hate to leave the Caddy behind, though. I’ve had that car a long time. We’re old friends.”

“Think they’ll send it to Washington, or wherever, with you? They’ll probably take it apart.”

“I guess. I shouldn’t worry about it. It’s just a car.”

“From now on, I’m your witness, your corroboration,” she told him. “Anything happens to you, I’m there to make a note of it. You’re sure you didn’t steal this little guy from a government repository or something?” She gave the alien a brisk shake, to which it continued not to respond.

“I told you, I found him.”

“Why not? I find stuff all the time.” Her tone became urgent. “Look, are you going to let me help you, or are you just going to be one more name for me to jot down on the roll call of my life?”

“You talk funny.” Sliding out of the booth, he remembered to leave a good tip. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I’ll go first.” She turned toward the kitchen. With no new customers to attend, the elderly waitress had stepped in back to chat with the cook. At the moment neither of them was watching the front.

“Come on.”