“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.”
“I bet. ‘E.T., phone your wife. You know she doesn’t like you hanging out in bars with low-life humans.’”
He smiled politely. “Something like that. After a while I got the patter down pretty good. It just seemed to flow.” He glanced down at the inanimate object on the floor. “I think Jed kind of inspired me.”
“I’m sure he did. Look at me: I can’t stop laughing.”
His expression turned serious. “Not everything that Jed sparked turned out to be a laugh riot. There were serious moments, too. Enough to get the army interested in him, anyway.”
The rear wheels threw dirt as she spun the wheel to make a tight curve. “What’re you going to do when we lose your happy soldier friends?”
“First thing,” he replied with unwavering determination, “I want to see the Pacific. After that … I haven’t decided yet. I’ve worked hard all my life. Dirty, dangerous work. Don’t seem able to save anything. Seems like there are always friends and cousins and nieces and nephews that need a few bucks. My daddy never had any money, but when he died, three hundred people came to his funeral.” He paused long enough for one hard swallow.
“I think Jed’s probably worth some serious money to the right people. I just want to do the right thing where everybody’s concerned, including him.”
“Hollywood’s near the Pacific,” she suggested. “I bet you could find some interest there.”
“No!” The sharpness of his reply surprised him. “I don’t want anything to do with those people. Read too much about ’em, heard too much on TV.”
“Well then, what about taking him to a newspaper, or better still, to one of the big universities? I bet their science departments would bid against each other for the right to study him. I mean, he’s got three arms and three legs.”
