“There’s really a town here called Fort Apache? I thought that was just a movie title.”
“Nope, it’s a real place. From there we’ll head on into Show Low. If they’re not waiting for us there, you can bet your ass against a pig’s hindquarters that we’ll have lost them. From there we’ll hit Holbrook and get on Interstate 40. Then we’ll head west again. You want to see the Pacific, we’ll damn well go see the Pacific. I don’t see them trying to monitor both interstates. Cause too much comment.”
“I dunno. They really want me. And Jed, too, of course.”
“Too bad for them. By the time they figure out you’re not in the immediate vicinity, we’ll be a couple of hundred miles to the north. When they decide to start checking the other interstates, we’ll be in California. And they still have to identify the transportation you’re using.”
“I’m sold,” he told her gratefully. “I’m going to have lo leave it up to you. Until this trip I’d never been further west than Hobbes, and I don’t know this part of the country.”
“I do. The mountains are magnificent.” She checked her console. “Only problem is, do we have enough gas to make Fort Apache? There won’t be anything open there, but there will be in Show Low, and it’s not much farther. We’ll do the best we can.” The bottom dropped out of the van for a moment, sending him careening off the sidewall. “Sorry. Plenty of ravines and potholes out here. If we run empty, maybe we can buy some gas from somebody who’s out camping.
“Now that that’s settled, tell me about yourself. Who are you, and what’s with the dead alien?”
His deceased companion was bouncing around on the carpet like an abandoned rag doll, but otherwise appeared none the worse for their close call. “Jed seems to like you.”
“Yeah? How can you tell?”
“You know how it is. After you’ve spent some time with someone you get to know their moods.”
“He’s alien, he’s dead, and he has moods?”
“Sure. I can just tell. He likes you.”
“I’m so flattered. Tell Jed I like him, too, as long as he doesn’t start to decompose in my van.”
Having long since left the last ranch house far behind, they bumped and banged northward, continuing their steady climb into the mountains.
TEN
Suttles was the first one into the café, followed closely by Kerry, Robinett, and a pair of massively muscled military police. No one entered armed. The last thing they wanted was any kind of wild shoot-out. Not out of concern for the safety of those inside but lest the priceless alien be damaged.
Hurriedly the captain surveyed their surroundings: counter, stools, booths, kitchen in back smelling of old grease and singed shortening, a single young couple at the far end now turning to gaze curiously at the handful of intruders.
The waitress emerged from the kitchen to greet them. She reminded Suttles of his paternal grandmother. “Can I help you? You want something to eat? We don’t have a booth big enough for five, but I can put a chair on the end of a table.”
“We’re not hungry.” Anxiously, his eyes scanned the interior. “We’re looking for someone.”
“A friend,” put in Kerry unnecessarily … and unconvincingly.
“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?”
