Roswell's Secret Read online

  Dean raised up on his good arm, gently cupped her face, and waited for her to meet his gaze. When she did, she was surprised to see tears in the Falcon’s eyes.

  “I know, Lucy. I’m scared, too.” He drew a shaky breath. “I could afford to be brave before. It wasn’t courage as much as recklessness. I didn’t have any reason to be careful, anyone who cared if I came home. Now I do, and I’m scared every bit as much as you are.”

  He leaned forward, kissed her again, kissed her softer than a hummingbird drinks from a flower. When he pulled back, he didn’t have answers, but he did have a smile for her. “We’ll find a way through this, Doc. We have to.”

  Lucy nodded and wiped at the tears she hadn’t let fall. “So it’s you and me against the world.”

  Dean winked, kissed her one more time, and headed for the shower.

  Ω

  Walking into E.T.’s, they did their best to play it cool. Which took bravado considering the number of cars outside—too many for three in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Sally still used an old-fashioned punch clock, located in the stock room. You didn’t get paid until you clocked in. They made it as far as the bar.

  People packed the area, and not a single one held a pool cue. They lined the walls, leaned against the tables, even sat on the juke box. Everyone was talking at once.

  Without exception, each person glanced every few seconds toward the map on the wall. It didn’t take long for Dean to figure out why. The question remained who had done it, and what it meant.

  “Weird, right?” Nadine passed by with a tray of burgers and stared at the map.

  All eyes shifted to the map every few moments, as if it might do another trick. And for good reason. Someone had repositioned all the pins—every last one of them.

  Lucy walked through the crowd, directly to the wall, and squinted up at Chaves County. Colton, of all people, stepped up beside her.

  Dean turned toward Paul who stood behind the bar. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Yeah. Haven’t seen this much business since the X-Files movie came out in ninety-eight.”

  “You opened today?”

  “Yup.”

  “The map looked that way when you got here?”

  “You know I don’t pay any attention to the blasted thing. Didn’t notice anything else out of the ordinary, though.”

  “All the doors were locked?”

  Paul stopped pulling the Bud draft and gave Dean a quizzical look.

  “Of course they were locked. You locked them. You closed last night.”

  Dean met Paul’s eyes. His training told him to trust no one, but his instinct told him Paul was solid. If he needed a local man, the sixty-eight-year-old would have his back.

  “I’ll clock in and be right back to help you.” Dean headed to the storeroom, noting Lucy still had her head bent close to Colton, struggling to hear him above the crowd.

  He had donned his apron and circled back, when Lucy ran into him.

  “Not here,” he warned.

  “Where?”

  He pulled her around to the back of the storeroom, where the sound of the machinery churned. If someone had placed bugs there, they wouldn’t operate well with the interference.

  “The pins on the map have been regrouped into three main areas,” she said. “Cornucopia, Monument, and Felix.”

  “At opposite ends of the county.”

  “And all are canyons, where the UAVs can fly over, drop their payload, then drop out of sight.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Every kid out there is planning on going tonight.”

  Dean knew their situation would deteriorate, but he didn’t realize it would blow up within six hours.

  “We have to stop them.” Lucy’s fingers dug into his arms.

  “Easy, Doc.” He peeled her fingers away from his stitches. “I don’t know how to stop them, but we’ll think of something. We need to go back in there and work our shift. We have to maintain our cover.”

  “We can’t allow those boys to go to the canyons. They will become infected and could become carriers. There’s a ninety percent chance the payload is contagious.”

  “I understand the situation.”

  “Then, we have to do something.”

  “What do you want to do, stand on the bar and make an announcement?”

  “I don’t care if we have to arrest every person out there. We have to stop them.”

  “We don’t have the authority to arrest them. And what good would it do anyway?”

  “It would keep them alive.” Lucy’s dark eyes snapped, daring him, begging him, to do something.

  “This is a test site. When no one shows up, they’ll move to a bigger site to release. Is that what you want? You want them to go to Albuquerque? Because we have a chance to stop them here, if we play this right. But not if we blow our cover.”

  She continued to glare at him, but she stopped talking, which Dean considered a good thing with women in general and an exceptional thing with Lucy.

  “Can you think of a reason to leave early?” he asked.

  “I can throw up on command.”

  Dean was pulling the prepaid phone from his pocket, but he stopped short to stare at her in the storeroom’s dim light. “What did you say?”

  “It’s a skill I learned in college. Best cure for a hangover. Where’d you get the phone?”

  “A gift from an old friend. I placed one call on it earlier today. You do your, uh, thing in about an hour. Go back to our room and call the one number on here. When the person answers tell them they never send flowers. Give them the locations, say it will be tonight, then disconnect.”

  “They never send flowers?”

  “It’s a code.”

  “We can trust this person?” Lucy took the phone and pushed it in the back pocket of her jeans.

  “I’m glad you’re starting to think like me, and the answer is yes. He’s the only person I’m sure we can trust. I’d do it myself, but I don’t know how to throw up on command. I’m not sure I want to learn, either. Plus, I need to stay here and catch whoever is messing with my map.”

  “You think he’s still around?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  Lucy frowned, stepped away, then stopped. Strolling back to Dean, she reached up, put her lips to his. Kissed him long and deeply. Without another word, she turned and walked away.

  Dean Dreiser had fallen into deep waters.

  Watching her go, he realized how bottomless those waters were, because he could hear the gurgling. He pushed the thought away and went to work.

  He had a terrorist to catch.

  With the size of the crowd, he didn’t have a chance to speak to her again for the next hour. He knew when she’d made her move, though. The unmistakable sound of retching was followed by chairs scraping the floor. A palatable silence fell over the bar, until Sally’s no-nonsense voice pierced it. “Show’s over folks. I know you’ve seen the flu before. Nadine, you want to come clean this up. Lucy, for heaven’s sake, go.”

  Their plan almost fell apart when Sally wanted Dean to drive her home.

  “I’d rather walk,” Lucy pleaded.

  “You threw up on not one, but two, of my customers,” Sally said. “I’m not letting you walk home. Dreiser, take her now and get back here.”

  “If I have to ride in a car, I know I’ll be sick again.”

  Lucy’s face went so white as she said it, even Dean thought she’d hurl again. He found himself wishing he had a secret signal to tell her to back off the drama. If the girl lost any more liquid, she’d faint dead away before she could make the call. Sally had so many customers, she didn’t have time to argue. With a wave of her hand, she sent Lucy on her way as she barked at Nadine to get a mop and told Dean to get the unlucky customers a free round.

  Lucy stepped out into the afternoon air and drew a deep breath. Heat slammed into her like a fist. Pulling bottled water from her bag, she swished some in her mouth, then spit it out into th
e nearest potted plant.

  Making her way down Main, she glanced back to see if Sally had stuck her gray head out the front door to watch her. The woman had a maternal streak she did her best to hide.

  Coming to the end of the boardwalk, Lucy made a left and picked up her pace. Sunset would be in three hours, full darkness another hour after that. Four hours until the UAVs flew over. What could the person she was calling do in such a short amount of time? When she reached Josephine’s, she veered down toward the river. Dean had told her to call from the room, but how could she know they weren’t bugged? Dean swept them every night, but open spaces were still the least vulnerable to eavesdropping devices.

  Besides, sitting underneath the tree calmed her. She pulled out the phone and keyed up the menu. Only one number had been called, with no name beside it. She didn’t recognize the area code.

  Pushing talk she waited. On the second ring, a male voice answered. “Still no letters.”

  “And you never send flowers.” Lucy waited, wondering if he would hang up.

  The silence stretched so long, she checked the display to see if he’d disconnected.

  “Well, a man would be foolish not to send flowers to you.”

  Lucy wanted to weep. She wanted to reach through the phone and drag the man on the other end back to Roswell. She didn’t want to be in this alone, anymore. Dean looked exhausted. She was frightened. This person still had a sense of humor. She planned to never hang up.

  “You still there, sweetheart?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Tough op.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have information for me?”

  “Three locations. Tonight. Cornucopia Canyon, Monument Canyon, and Felix Canyon. The locals think it’s a divide and conquer game.”

  “Copy that. We’ll see what we can do from the bat cave.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lucy knew she should hang up. Dean had told her to give the three locations and disconnect. No doubt, some protocol existed for limiting the amount of seconds on covert phone calls. She hadn’t realized how isolated they had become in one week. She hadn’t understood how much they needed reinforcements on their team. She didn’t even know who this was, but it was someone Dean trusted. What else did she need to know?

  “By the way, nice catch on the hybrids. I confirmed UAVs with those specifications have existed for the past twelve months and are deployed in your area.”

  Lucy fought the lump in her throat, tried to think of something to say.

  “Take care of the old guy for me.”

  She gripped the phone, listened to the static of dead air. Pushing end, she slipped the phone back into her pocket, and felt a shiver slide down the back of her neck. She acknowledged what a part of her mind had recognized several seconds ago.

  She wasn’t alone. Someone was watching.

  LUCY RESISTED THE URGE to turn around. She had no doubt someone crouched behind the scrub brush at six o’clock. She’d heard a very slight rustling as she’d ended her conversation with Dean’s friend.

  Should she draw her weapon?

  Dean’s words to maintain their cover at all costs rang in her ears.

  Surely, she could make an exception to defend herself.

  The nearly imperceptible sound came again, and every hair on Lucy’s arms bristled. She reached down to rub her ankle and gripped her weapon. Drawing a deep breath, she prepared to flip onto her stomach and roll left—behind the tree.

  Jerry’s voice sounded, low, but unmistakable. “Don’t shoot me, Lucy.”

  She released the hold on her weapon and rubbed her leg, as if she hadn’t even thought of riddling him with bullets. “What are you talking about, Jerry?”

  He emerged from the scrub brush and dropped beside her in one fluid movement. The man could move with incredible stealth. How had his training returned so quickly? Looking into his haunted eyes, she felt a tug on her heart. She didn’t want to doubt he was a veteran-turned-cook, caught up in heartbreaking circumstances. Didn’t want to, but did.

  He leaned against the tree. A human chameleon, he faded into the bark. No one would see him unless they stumbled over him. The color of his clothes, the shade of his skin and hair—it all melded into the grass and the trees.

  “What gave me away?”

  Lucy shrugged, continued searching his face for some sign of where he’d been, and what he’d been doing.

  “You have good instincts—or you really aren’t just a waitress.”

  “Don’t start that again, Jerry.”

  “I have some buddies who are still in the military.”

  Lucy didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything.

  “They ran a background check on Dreiser.”

  Lucy remained silent, but she did meet his gaze.

  “Do you want to know what they found?”

  “I’m not taking him home to meet my mama, Jerry. I don’t need to know what you found.”

  “They found nothing. He has no background. How many people have no history at all? No credit history, employment history, no driver’s license, nothing on social media. How is that possible? Unless you’re a spook. Unless you’re not who you say you are.”

  “Maybe you should get some rest, Jerry.”

  “What would they find on you, Lucy?”

  She refused to look away, didn’t blink.

  “How did you know I was following you?”

  “My abuela says I have the second sight.” Lucy thought he might laugh, but he nodded.

  “Our grandmothers know us best.”

  “Why did you follow me, Jerry?”

  “I needed to talk to you. Without Dreiser.”

  “Dean’s a good man.”

  “Maybe. He’s not sure what side I’m on.”

  “And how do I know?”

  “You have the sight, remember?”

  As Lucy watched him, Jerry’s shoulders slumped. His hard expression melted. The anger that had propelled him for the last six days abandoned him. It could have been an act, but Lucy didn’t think so. She might not have been an agent as long as Dean, but she’d been a woman for twenty-eight years. She knew a broken man when she saw one.

  As if it hadn’t happened, Jerry drew himself back up, put the mask firmly in place. “What happened at the bar?”

  “You know about the map?”

  “The one with the UFO sightings?” Jerry spat the word UFO, as if it offended him.

  She nodded. “The boys go out hunting for them every night. The map notes all the sightings in Chaves County. There’s not an inch of the map without a pin in it. Every night they go.”

  “Boys around here have more pistons than brains.”

  Lucy smiled, but it hurt her to do so. “Today, when Paul opened the bar, someone had repositioned all the pins.”

  Jerry clenched his hands, and Lucy again realized he outsized her by over a hundred pounds. She didn’t feel intimidated, figured she could take him down in a pinch. Size could be a hindrance as well as a help. But she knew Jerry would exact his revenge eventually, and she couldn’t help but pity the guy who happened to be in his way.

  “Tell me the new locations.”

  “Go to the bar. Look for yourself.” Lucy wanted to lie in the grass and sleep for hours. She wanted to say the right words.

  “You don’t make this easy. You know it?”

  “And you shouldn’t do this alone.”

  “Who’s baiting the boys?”

  Lucy didn’t answer.

  “Why?”

  Lucy picked up a blade of grass and split it with her nails.

  “Who do you and Dean work for?”

  “We work for Sally. You do too, so why don’t you come back?” Lucy picked up another piece of grass, proceeded to shred it.

  When Jerry didn’t answer, she glanced up at him.

  “In the last six days, I’ve managed to accept Angie’s death. I’ve even come to terms with the fact we’re at war—a w
ar Angie stumbled into. She became a casualty of something she didn’t realize was going on. None of us did.” Jerry’s eyes scanned the river’s banks. “It would help if I knew who you and Dreiser work for.”

  “We work for Sally.” Lucy’s voice didn’t sound like her own. She wouldn’t have believed herself. “We stumbled into this just like you did.”

  Glancing to see if Jerry could have possibly bought her explanation, she saw the hunted look return.

  “I saw a lot of disbelief overseas. People not realizing the battle had begun until they were already losing it, not adapting fast enough.”

  He stood, towered over her. Lucy resisted the urge to stand, too. The agitation she’d seen in him three days before had vanished, but not the intensity. The doctor in her wanted to check his vitals, bring him in for a workup.

  “You can’t avenge Angie’s death alone. Go talk to Eaton, like Dean said. What do you think you can accomplish running around in the desert?” she asked.

  “More than I can standing behind a grill.”

  “Promise me, you won’t go out there tonight.”

  Now, she did stand, touched his arm. He winced, and she realized he’d already given himself to the mission. Jerry didn’t fear dying. She’d bet he’d even welcome death, joining Angie. But her touch had made him uneasy. Her touch had reminded him of life.

  He pulled away, stepped back.

  “Promise me,” she said.

  “I can’t promise that. What are the UAVs doing here?”

  Lucy shook her head, whispered, “I’m a waitress, remember?”

  “Yeah. But I also remember folks aren’t what they seem. Especially in Roswell.”

  Ω

  At six o’clock, Dean glanced up to see Sheriff Eaton standing at the bar. He was surprised to find the man was a welcome sight. He hadn’t decided what side, if any, Eaton stood on—but at this point any semblance of law and order would be a step in the right direction.

  “Coffee, Sheriff?”

  “Yeah. I could use a cup.” Eaton stared at the crowd which hadn’t thinned at all around the wall map. “Who put the map up in the first place?”