“Meet me at the corner tomorrow at nine.”
Bobby looked at Rhyne’s suit. “Whatever you’re doing, it must be paying well. Never seen you dressed like that.”
“You can’t stay stuck in one thing forever.”
Bobby grinned. “I know, which is why we gotta move on this thing.”
“All right. I’ll see you in the morning. Keep this between us.”
Bobby nodded and disappeared behind the slot machines. Rhyne couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. What a way to top it all off. He would consider it a little bonus.
Finally, a woman walked by with her tray of drinks. Rhyne snatched one, toasted the air, and headed for the blackjack table.
Chapter 34
Charles was barely five and a half feet tall and so skinny that his ribcage showed through his ratty undershirt. He had white and gray hair that stood up like he’d just been electrocuted. Every time he spoke, he pulled at his chin like there was a beard to tug on, but there wasn’t. This was the first of many things that Charles seemed to think existed. He was explaining to Jesse why humans can’t see the spaceships that are landing in the desert, and what that had to do with the four moons of Jupiter, when he suddenly stood, grunted, and walked to the closest of two small windows in his trailer. He turned the blinds and then yanked closed drapes that were thick enough “to block the rays of the bright star Sirius.” He slowly opened his front door, looked outside, then quickly shut and locked it.
“Sorry ’bout that,” Charles said, sitting back down in his recliner. “Sometimes in the evening right before sunset a few of them get restless, and they start wandering around.” He noticed Jesse’s baffled expression. “The aliens.”
That clears things up. Jesse glanced at Brandi, who only shrugged and smiled.
“Charles,” Jesse said quietly. The first time Jesse had used the man’s name, Charles shushed them and explained how “they” have high-tech equipment that can listen through walls. Jesse resisted the urge to explain that nearly every law enforcement agency in the country had that same ability, but that would have done little to ease this man’s paranoia. “I need you to listen to me very carefully. We’re trying to find your grandson, Mason.”
Charles’s face lit up with delight. He pulled out a drawer in a nearby table. Then he held up a small picture frame. “Mason, he’s special. I really enjoy that boy. His father wasn’t much to write home about, but Mason turned out okay. He comes to see me every once in a while.” Charles leaned forward with peering eyes. He spoke in a hushed voice. “I tried to explain it all to him, but I don’t think he understands.”
“Understands what, sir?” Jesse asked.
“That they’re after me now, not him. He got abducted when he was eight. Doesn’t remember it, of course. They gave him some memory-blocking serum. But when I described the inside of the spacecraft, he said it sounded familiar.” Charles’s eyebrows raised to indicate this was an important fact. Jesse nodded and tried to look fascinated instead of befuddled. “It was many years later before I even spoke ’bout it with Mason. His parents didn’t want me to see him. I understood. We all knew I could be abducted at any moment.”
“Um, yes … Well, again, about Mason. Do you know where to find him?”
“If I give you his coordinates, they’ll hear us,” he whispered.
Jesse tried to dial back the desperation in his voice. “Maybe you could write it down on a piece of paper,” Jesse whispered back.
“Oh,” Charles said, pulling at his imaginary beard. “That might be a good idea.”
Charles reached into the drawer next to him and pulled out a small notepad and pencil. Jesse and Brandi watched him as he held the notepad close to his face and wrote slowly and carefully. Jesse gave Brandi a relieved smile, which she returned.
“Now,” he said, ripping the piece of paper off the pad, “you can’t, for any reason, let anybody know where he is. He’s hiding. He has to, or they’ll be back to get him.”
“Is that what he tells you? That he’s in hiding?” Jesse asked.
Charles nodded with a sad sigh. “I almost lost him once. I don’t want to lose him again. I tell him that I understand. Every once in a while, he still comes by. Mostly I talk to him by telephone, which I rigged so it couldn’t be tapped. Mason doesn’t understand how dangerous his cell phone is, but I’ve talked until I’m blue in the face about it, so I guess he’s never going to change.” Charles stared at the piece of paper in his hand and, with a little reluctance, handed it over to Jesse.
Jesse read the note and folded it, stuffing it into his pocket. “You’ll have to excuse me.” Jesse stood. “I need to make a phone call.” Jesse pulled out his cell phone. “I’m going to step outside for a moment.”
“No, you’re not!” Charles barked, startling Brandi. “What are you, crazy? Why not handcuff yourself to the roof with the television antennas and scream derogatory remarks about their technology? No. Go to the back bedroom. The phone there is safe to use. Never underestimate what they can do with a television antenna.” He pointed to his television. “That’s why I have cable. You got a satellite dish at home? You might as well pack your bags, because they’re going to zap you up.”
Without enthusiasm, Jesse said, “Oh. They don’t beam people up anymore?”
“They’ve found it can cause second-degree burns on human feet.”
“Right.”
Jesse excused himself to the back bedroom, closed the door, turned the lock, and opened his cell phone. He dialed a number and held the phone close to his ear as he turned away from the door.
“Hello?”
“Kyle. It’s Jesse.”
“Oh, hi, Jesse.”
“What are you doing at this moment?”
There was a long pause, and Jesse thought he could hear music in the background.
“Hello? You there?”
“I’m here.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Kyle chuckled. “Well, my friend, I’m taking your advice.”
“What advice?”
“About the band. I’m going to hire a band.”
“You’re going to do what?”
“Hire a band. Serenade her with a band. Well, more like a quartet. I’m thinking a couple of violins and a flute, but—”
“Would you like to know what I’m doing?”
“What?”
“I’m trying to track down Mason Capps. I’ve located his grandfather, who keeps in regular touch with him.”
“That sounds promising.”
“Doesn’t it? In fact, his grandfather wrote down the exact address where I can find Mason.”
“Great, then you can go get him?”
“There’s one problem. Mason is in Callisto.”
“Is that in Nevada?”
“No. It’s four billion light years away. One of Jupiter’s moons, and unfortunately my spacecraft is broken.”
“Is this a cop joke? I love cop jokes. But I don’t get it.”
“We had a deal, Kyle. You were going to pray for me, and I was going to give you advice on how to handle the ladies. You’re not holding up your end of the deal.”
“I prayed for you this morning.”
“When Chaplain Greer prayed for me, things went well. I never had to deal with aliens.”
“Jesse, I’m not doing anything less than I do for my own congregation. I’m praying for you, praying God’s Word over you, especially the psalm that you like so much. I mean, if you’d like to come in and talk about this—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Kyle. I want things to go smoothly. Are you praying that? That things would go smoothly?”
“Um … well, I can try. It’s not like there’s any guarantee, though.”
Jesse’s free hand balled into a fist. “Then you’re not doing it right.”
“Jesse, you sound very irritated. Why don’t you meet me in the morning? We can talk through some of this and find out—”
“I don’t
want to talk! I want to find Mason Capps!”
“Um—”
“You know what? Forget it. Just forget it.”
“What are you going to do about the grandfather?”
“I don’t know, Kyle. What would Jesus do?”
Kyle paused. Leave it to him to give that serious thought. “He’d probably cast out a demon, but I can’t be certain—”
“Right. Well, you’ll have to excuse me. Radioactive particles could hit at any moment.” Jesse switched off his phone and returned to the small living area where Charles was discussing Area 52.
“Isn’t it Area 51?” Jesse interrupted, crumpling the map Charles had drawn him.
“The Area 51 people don’t even know Area 52 exists.”
“Let’s go.”
“Wait,” Brandi said hastily. “Let’s not give up yet.” She looked at Charles with desperate eyes. “Charles, I need to find Mason. You know how close we were. Is there anything you can tell us that might help us find him? Like a phone number?”
“He calls me. The number’s always blocked.” Charles smiled. “I taught him that.”
Brandi scooted to the edge of her seat and locked eyes with the old man. “Maybe he told you who he’s been hanging around?”
Charles shook his head.
Brandi looked like she could cry at any moment. Jesse wasn’t sure if it was a ploy for information or if it was because she thought Jesse would haul her back to jail if they couldn’t find Mason. “Tell me the truth, Charles,” she said. “Is there another woman in his life?”
Charles reached out and took her hand. “I know this is hard to understand, but the aliens are asexual. You have nothing to worry about.”
Brandi looked at Jesse like she’d run out of ideas.
“Has he brought anyone when he’s visited you?” Jesse asked.
Something registered with Charles. “Well, yes. He did. The last time he came by. There was a man with him.”
Brandi and Jesse exchanged looks. “What was his name?” Jesse asked.
“Ryan.” Charles looked certain.
“Did he have a last name?”
Charles started to speak, then paused, then started to speak again, only to be interrupted by another pause.
“Yes?” Jesse urged.
“It seemed like he liked Jell-O.”
Jesse sighed. “Terrific. We’ve got it narrowed down to Ryan who likes Jell-O. What flavor?”
“Wait,” Charles said, holding up a finger. “It rhymed with Jell-O. That’s it. The best way to remember someone’s name is to think of something it rhymes with. It’s harder to do with alien names because they don’t use vowels, but …” He looked up at Jesse. “I don’t remember what his last name is. Just that it rhymed with Jell-O.”
Brandi stood, glancing at Jesse. “That’s good, right? You’ve got a database of some sort, don’t you? You can type in that information and see what comes up?”
“Yes. It’s called a Rhyming Computer. It comes in very handy when you’ve got this sort of information, or if you’re trying to write a poem.” He took Brandi by the arm. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
“Wait,” she said as Jesse escorted her out the front door. “We can get more information out of him. It just takes time.”
“Thanks for your help,” Jesse said to the old man as he stared at them through the screen door. “Get in the truck, Brandi.”
When he climbed into his seat, he was greeted with a tirade. “So that’s it? That’s the end? You’re supposed to be good at interrogating people! What was that?”
“I’m sorry,” Jesse said, glancing sideways at her. “They don’t teach UFO interrogation until you get to the FBI.”
“Im not kidding.”
Jesse pulled away from the curb. “Neither was he. That’s the problem. He’s a crazy old man.”
“He didn’t used to be that bad. I mean, he’s always been into conspiracy theories, but I guess it’s getting worse.”
“What’s getting worse is the fact that we have no credible information.”
“What about Ryan?”
“Yes. Ryan who loves Jell-O. I’ll see what I can do with that.”
“His last name rhymes with Jell-O.”
“I’d have more luck if his last name rhymed with pudding.”
“You know, you were a lot better looking and a lot nicer back in high school, so that should tell you what I think of you now.” She slumped in her seat and looked out the window with an icy stare. “Are you taking me back to jail?”
“I don’t know. What else can you tell me about where Mason might be?”
“There’s a bar.”
“Yes?”
“Cracker Jack’s.”
“I know it. Tiny place. Does he go there a lot?”
“He goes there when he’s depressed. He hasn’t mentioned it in a while, though.”
“When he’s depressed? That’s it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know why. I just know that’s what he does.” He didn’t know if Mason was depressed, but Jesse sure was well on his way.
Chapter 35
Ron checked his watch. It was nearly nine, late enough in the morning that even Jesse should be awake. “Where is he?” Nobody seemed to know, no matter how many times he asked. “Did you call him again?” Ron asked Dozer.
“I’ve called five times. You want me to run to the house, see if he’s there?”
“No. Forget it. We’ve got to focus. Mack, you’ll man the counter. Hank, Dozer, Wiz, you guys will be in the garage.” Ron glanced into the garage. One of the vans arrived yesterday. It was already pulled apart, and the front end was smashed up. “When he comes in, it’s fine to look up from what you’re doing in the garage, but just act like you don’t care who is coming and going. You’ve got a job to do.” He looked at his watch again. “All right. We’ve got ten minutes. Wiz, make a final check on the cameras and recording equipment. The rest of you, position yourselves where you need to be.”
Ron went into the small office to prepare and pray. This wasn’t a particularly dangerous situation, but with one slip, they could blow their cover and scare the guy off. Ron wasn’t too worried about that happening, though. Bobby seemed like the kind of guy who jumped first and looked later.
He closed his eyes, trying to calm his nerves. Why were his hands shaking? Guilt washed over him. He knew some of his nervousness was because he’d gone back undercover without his wife’s blessing. Nan wouldn’t have understood. How could he explain he was trying to keep them safe? Or that he was, in reality, doing something he shouldn’t by agreeing to help Laura bust up a narcotics ring?
Nothing about this felt right. Everything was getting too complicated. He closed his eyes and asked God for protection and wisdom, but that’s all he had a chance to pray before his phone rang.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, Ron.” It was Mack. There was a slight strain in her voice. “A guy named Bobby is here to see you.”
“Be right out.” Ron sucked in a breath, grabbed his cane, added the extra limp, and walked to the front desk. Bobby stood outside, next to the door. As he stepped into the morning air, he noticed a guy standing by a maroon Chrysler minivan. “Who’s that?” Ron asked.
“He’s okay. I can vouch for him.”
“We had an understanding. Nobody else was supposed to be involved.” Ron looked over Bobby’s shoulder and gave the man a hard stare. The man pretended to be interested in what was going on in the garage, then walked that direction away from the van. Ron could hear the equipment noise and the chatter between the guys in the garage.
“Look, he’s got a van. Just what you’re looking for. The Chrysler.”
“Really.” Ron glanced over at the van.
Bobby smiled. “I’ve got good connections.”
“What kind of condition is it in?” Ron said.
“Nearly perfect. But we can’t deliver it to you for three days. After that, you get first pick of whatever you want off of it.
”
Ron stepped up to the van and looked it over. “Bring me in the hood, the stereo equipment, the engine. Bring it all. But no glass. No doors.”
Ron looked at the stranger one more time, just to make everyone nervous. The man stomped out his cigarette, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and studied the activity in front of him.
“That’ll work,” Ron said.
“Great. You’ll be dealing with me.”
“Don’t leave me hanging,” Ron said. “I don’t want to have to go scrambling for parts. If you don’t deliver, we’re done doing business.”
“I’ll see you in three days,” Bobby said and turned to walk toward the van. Ron went back inside, catching Mack’s eye as she looked up from the computer. He gave her a small smile and slipped into the office to wait for the men to leave.
Jesse slowed as he noticed the maroon minivan parked outside the garage. Sergeant Yeager was talking to a red-haired man, but he didn’t seem to notice Jesse. Jesse parked as far away from the garage as he could. He had no idea what was going on, but didn’t want to blow something that might be going down. He got out of his truck, grabbed some papers from his passenger seat, and pretended to look through them while secretly scanning the scene. A second stranger watched the activity in the garage. When they both started to head back to the van, Jesse carried his papers and walked slowly toward the shop. He listened intently as he neared the van, hoping to overhear a conversation.
“We got it,” one said. “We just gotta show up with it on Friday.”
“That seemed too easy,” the other man said.
“It’s easy because I made it easy. He trusts me. And you should, too, if you want this deal.”
Jesse kept his head down and pretended to flip through the pages as he walked, when he heard it. The guy with the red hair seemed to call the other man Ryan. Or something that sounded like Ryan, anyway. His words were somewhat obscured by the sound of crunching gravel.
Neither of the men seemed interested in Jesse as they drove off. He went in the garage and found Hank under the car. Wiz and Dozer were messing with a door. “What just happened?” Jesse asked.
Dozer stood. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all morning.”