“Big man, about six-five, six-six. He may have been carrying an object with him. Something like a large doll, or a ventrilo-quist’s dummy.”

Peering past the three officers, the waitress could see half a dozen high beams playing over the parked Cadillac. Both hood and trunk lid were up and these areas were likewise receiving their fair share of attention. A small-town old-timer she might be, but she wasn’t dumb.

“Come on; you aren’t friends of this gentleman.”

“We just want to talk to him, ma’am.” Suttles threw Kerry a warning look. Somewhat to his surprise, she got the message and kept quiet.

The elderly employee pondered the request. “He didn’t look like a bad sort. I know people. That’s one thing you learn in this business; people. You say you just want to ask him some questions?”

“That’s right, ma’am.” Flipping open his billfold, Robinett displayed his identification. “United States Army Intelligence. We don’t want to hurt him and he hasn’t done anything bad.”

“I’m glad to hear that. He was a nice young man. Good tipper,

Kerry couldn’t restrain herself. “You don’t happen to know where he is, do you? That’s his car out front.”

“I guessed, seeing the way you people are going through it. What’re you looking for? Drugs?”

Suttles chafed at the delays, but he suspected if they lost their temper with this particular senior citizen, she’d simply clam up and refuse to talk to them. “No, ma’am.”

“Didn’t he go out front?”

“No. We’ve been watching the front. He hasn’t come out that

“Well then, I expect he went out the back. Unless he’s in the can expressing his opinion of our cooking.”

At a word from Kerry, a cluster of military police hustled in the direction of the rest rooms. “How long since you’ve seen him?”

“Heck, I don’t know.” The waitress jerked a thumb toward the kitchen. “Jericho and I been talking. This time of night it gets pretty slow around here. I don’t write down when customers arrive and when they leave. All I care is that they pay their tabs and leave a little something for the old lady.”

“When you were speaking to him, did he seem nervous at all, or upset?”

“No, but you’re right about one thing: he did have a funny-looking toy with him. Put it right there”—she pointed to a booth—“on the seat opposite. I just glanced at it. Didn’t really take a good look. Figured it was for some kid.”

Having gone with the search party, Robinett now rejoined his companions. “Bathrooms are empty. We’re searching out back.”

“Footprints?” inquired Kerry.

The slim officer shook his head. “Gravel parking lot. Maybe on the other side, if he ran and the ground’s moist enough. Guy that big ought to leave footprints.” His expression was downcast. “Wonder how much we missed him by?”

“This isn’t a big town.” Kerry was thinking furiously. “Maybe he knocked on somebody’s door and asked for shelter. Maybe he’s sleeping in somebody’s garage, or behind a woodpile. He can’t have gotten far.”

“Unless he managed to hitch a ride out back, or stole a car,” Robinett pointed out. “It’s worth checking out. I’ll get in touch with the local police and we’ll establish a confinement perimeter.” Pulling a cellular phone from his belt, he began dialing as he walked away.

“I don’t understand,” murmured the elderly waitress. “What’s this young man done?”

“Like we told you; nothing.” Suttles put on his best public-relations smile. “He just needs to answer some questions. It’s not something you need to worry about. You sure there’s nothing else you can tell us that might be useful?”

She shrugged. “Only that Jericho makes the best hash browns this side of Santa Fe. You sure you don’t want something to eat?”

Actually, Suttles would have killed for a plate of bacon and eggs, but they didn’t have time. Not yet, not now. Turning, he accompanied Kerry to the entrance. Robinett rejoined them moments later.

“What do you think, Geoff?” he asked the taller officer.

Robinett shook his head dolefully. “The police are ready to cooperate, but as to where we go next, I don’t know. I’m kind of new at this sort of thing. Materials science is more my line.”

“If he’s been gone more than thirty minutes he could be anywhere.” Kerry was chewing on her lower lip, an activity that oddly enough did nothing to mute her attractiveness. “If somebody’s hiding him there’s not much we can do.”

“I really doubt that’s the case.” Suttles sounded confident. “Would you let a stranger that size into your house in the middle of the night, no matter how convincing a sob story he told you?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” admitted Robinett, “but small-town people can be more empathetic than smart.”

“It’s too soon to start panicking.” Kerry took a deep breath. “Probably he’s still around here. If so, we’ll pick him up tonight or tomorrow. The forest service can help. He can only hike so far without food or water.”

“We need to check out all the commercial Dumpsters in town, to,” Robinett suggested.

“That’s the spirit.” She clapped him on the back. “It’s not like he’s slipped away from us in Phoenix or, God forbid, Los Angeles. The road checks are already in place and both the Arizona and New Mexico highway patrols have been alerted to be on the lookout for anyone matching his description. We’ll get him.”

“I know,” muttered Suttles. “It’s just that the longer he’s on the loose, the greater the likelihood that he might do something stupid, like dump the alien in a trash can or bury it with an eye toward coming back for it later.”

“The greatest scientific discovery of the last couple of hundred years,” she grumbled, “and it’s in the hands of some dumb oilfield grunt from Texas.”

Robinett grinned sardonically. “He may be an oilfield grunt and he may be from Texas, but I don’t know how dumb he is. So far he’s managed to elude us.”

It was an observation for which the restive Kerry had no ready retort.

Ross Ed squinched back and forth, trying to find a comfortable position in the passenger chair. Behind him, the alien body lolled gently back and forth each time the van hit a dip or bump in the road.

“If you don’t my asking, Caroline, what were you doing in that café so late?”

“Working graveyard at the grocery. After I punch out I usually go get something to eat. You get tired of eating supermarket deli. Except for the fast-food joints, the Saguaro’s the only other place in town to do that. Then I crawl into the van and fall out.”

Set on high beam, the headlights cut through the forest ahead. Several times she had to brake while deer made up their startled cervoid minds which way to bolt, and once a majestic bull elk stalked regally across their path.

The creeks they crossed varied from empty to full, but the larger were spanned by old wooden bridges that rattled beneath the van’s big tires. Caroline drove like she knew exactly where she was going. After the past couple of days it was pure bliss to have someone else doing the driving.

“I couldn’t live in a van,” he told her, trying to make conversation.

“I agree. You wouldn’t fit. They must want you real serious.” She shifted into low as they rattled up another grade.

“I’m just an accessory. What they’re really after is Jed.” He indicated the six-limbed corpse flopping around on the carpet beside him.

“We’re on reservation land now. Apache.”

He squinted out the window at the dark forest. There’d been no formal gate or barrier. Either she knew the spot well, or they’d rumbled past a sign visible only from her side.

“Tell me,” she asked him, “what do you do with ‘Jed’ when you’re not hiding him from the government?”

“I’ve been tending bar in El Paso. Got the idea of using him as kind of ventriloquist’s dummy, to loosen up the customers. Brought in real good rips.”