Coming Home

Twenty-five

When we got back to the hotel, Alex steered me over to a sofa in the lobby. “Chase,” he said, “I don’t think we were the targets this afternoon.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Khaled wasted no time getting the engine started and trying to get us out of there. In fact, he started the engine before the attack began.”

“You think this isn’t the first time it’s happened?”

“I’m not sure what to make of it. But we’d be smart to assume the worst. That it was aimed at us. But I think there’s something Khaled isn’t telling us. We should stop somewhere and pick up a couple of scramblers.”

“I was just about to suggest that.”

“Are you still going out with Khaled tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I wonder if that’s a good idea?”

“We’ll be okay,” I said.

“All right. Enjoy yourself. But keep your eyes open.”

Khaled took me to a cabaret for dinner. We ate while a group called the Late Nighters played and sang about the wonders of love. Then we got a comedian who was actually entertaining. And the place filled with music again, and we went out onto the dance floor.

It made for an exhilarating evening, rendered poignant by the knowledge that we would probably never see each other again. Khaled looked at me with an air of wistfulness. And to be honest, I couldn’t decide whether my emotions that night were brought on by the circumstances or whether I really liked the guy. And the fact that I was carrying a scrambler gave the entire affair an added dimension. “You know who you look like?” I asked. “Zachary Conner.”

He really did. The rumpled brown hair, the square jaw, the electric eyes. He had everything but the mustache. I don’t know if he could have handled the romantic lead in Last Man Standing or Starburst. But he was close enough.

“You know,” he said, with a grin, “I hear that a lot.”

He had no easy means to travel to Rimway. And all my instincts barred me from even thinking about initiating something that had no chance of going anywhere. We talked about the attack off and on through the evening. While we were out on the floor, I asked whether he’d ever even heard of anything like this before?

“No,” he said. “That’s why I thought it might be directed at you and Alex.”

“There’s no reason,” I said, “why anybody should want to come after us. But I suppose it’s possible.”

“Well, I plan to be careful for a while. I’d suggest you guys be heads-up, too. Maybe you should back off this Baylee thing for a while. That might be the problem. In any case, I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll be fine.”

He was warm and gentle, and, unlike most guys, he wanted to talk about things I cared about, rather than about himself. He would have been worth hanging on to.

The evening ended on a note of lost opportunity. “If you get back here, Chase, or you have some free time before you go home to Rimway, let me know, okay? I’d love to do this again.”

“I don’t think there’s much chance, Khaled. But if it happens, I’ll let you know.”

“Good enough.”

We kissed, at first tentatively, then I took things into my own hands.

In the morning, we wandered down to the hotel restaurant and Alex asked me if I was ready to head out. I had mixed feelings, but a part of me was hoping we’d get an extra day in the area. “Why don’t we relax a bit?” I said. “Take some time for ourselves?”

“Oh.” He grinned. “It went that well, huh?”

“He’s a good guy. Saved our lives.”

“Okay. You can stay in the area if you want. I’m headed for Atlanta.”

“What’s in Atlanta?”

“The Albertson Data Museum.”

“Another museum?”

“They try to recover information that was lost when the first internet collapsed. That’s all. This has nothing to do with Baylee. I want to see if they have anything we can take back with us. For our clients.”

“Okay.” I hesitated. “I’ll go.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“Good. I think it’s safer.”

An autotray rolled up to the table, and our breakfasts were placed in front of us. “Anything else you would like?” asked the bot.

Alex waited until I’d indicated I was fine. “No, thanks,” he said. “This is good.” We’d just started eating when Alex frowned and touched his link. He listened for a moment and formed the words Madeleine O’Rourke with his lips. I needed a moment to place the name. She was the reporter from The Plains Drifter. “Yes, Madeleine,” he said, “what can I do for you?” He increased the volume so I could hear.

“Alex, I just heard about the attack. You and Chase are okay, right?”

“Yes, we’re fine. Just got dumped in the water, that’s all.”

“I’m so glad. Who was it anyhow? Any idea?”

“None.”

“Wow. Alex, is this the first time it’s happened?”

“Yes, Madeleine, it is.”

“You know any reason why someone would be trying to kill you?”

“To be honest, I assumed someone was angry with Eisa Friendly Charters. I don’t think it was aimed at us. No reason it would be.”

“Be careful about assumptions.”

“I try to be.”

“Good.”

Pause. Then: “How’d you find us?”

“Oh, come on, Alex. You’re a big name. And now you’ve been involved in this incident. You think you’re not visible?”

I went back to my eggs while Alex touched his link. “Connect me with The Plains Drifter. It’s in Centralia.”

“Why are you calling her back?” I asked.

“Hang on a second, Chase.”

Then a man’s voice: “Good morning. Plains Drifter. This is Cam Everett.”

“Mr. Everett, I was trying to reach Madeleine O’Rourke.”

“Who?”

“Madeleine O’Rourke. She’s one of your reporters?”

“Umm, no. I never heard of her.”

“Oh. Sorry, Mr. Everett. Must have been a communication breakdown on my end. Thanks.” He disconnected and looked at me. “I think we might have just discovered who was in the skimmer.”