Men in black! I thought. I’ve got a couple of real live MIBs in my house!
I didn’t know whether I should be completely freaked out…or possibly more than a little excited. Sort of like UFOs, men in black were the kind of thing whose existence you doubted until you saw them in the flesh.
They certainly looked solid enough as they stood on the Navajo rug in my living room and regarded me with a notable lack of expression. Some people claimed the MIBs weren’t human at all, but some sort of extraterrestrial clean-up squad. These two looked like ordinary men, though.
Scratch that. They didn’t look like ordinary men. They looked like ordinary government agents.
They could have been anywhere between thirty-five and forty-five, both Caucasian, one slightly darker-haired than the other. Their suits were identical, as were their dark ties and polished wingtips. I supposed they could have been alien-possessed humans, although I didn’t get that feeling from them. Then again, how would I know? Unlike Persephone, I wasn’t psychic.
The taller one asked, “You are Kara Swenson, owner of the UFO Depot?”
I thought I’d already verified that I was Kara Swenson, but what the hell. “Yes.”
“And where were you the night of Thursday, August tenth?”
Come on, boys, is that the best you’ve got? “Here in Sedona.”
Two sets of eyes, one brown, one blue, narrowed.
“I was leading a UFO tour in Boynton Canyon.”
“And how often do you lead these…tours?” asked the shorter of the two men.
I couldn’t help noticing that they hadn’t given me their names. Sure, they’d flashed a couple of badges at me, but the cases that held those badges were opened and shut so fast, I didn’t have time to read the names on their I.D.s. “Depends. Sometimes just once a week. During the busy season, as many as three or four.”
“And do you believe in UFOs, Ms. Swenson?”
“Is that a trick question?”
Identical stony expressions were the only response.
“I believe there’s something out there, yes. Exactly what, I can’t say. I wouldn’t make a very good UFO tour guide if I didn’t believe in what I was selling, now, would I?”
The two men exchanged a brief glance. “Is it your assertion that you encountered a UFO on the night of August tenth?”
“I encountered something,” I said warily.
“Could you elaborate on that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know.”
I could tell they were less than thrilled with my responses, but I wasn’t an idiot. Confessing that yes, I’d seen a UFO would be all the excuse they needed to make sure I disappeared somewhere. I wouldn’t be the first…and I wouldn’t be the last. But if I muddied the waters enough, I just might be able to get out of this interview relatively unscathed.
“No, I don’t know,” I said. “There was a bright light in the sky, and a lot of wind, but so what? It could’ve been a helicopter. We’ve got tons of helicopters around Sedona. All the sightseeing, you know.”
“That a fact.”
“Yes.”
“So why would someone be buzzing your tour group with a helicopter?”
“How would I know?” I crossed my arms and hoped I wore a convincing combination of exasperation and confusion on my face. “I’m not the only UFO tour operator in Sedona, after all. It’s entirely possible that one of the other tour owners got a friend with a helicopter to come in and mess up my tour.”
“Why would they do that?”
No one could be that obtuse. I refrained from snapping, It’s the economy, stupid, and instead replied, “We’re all competing for the same slice of the pie, you know? So maybe someone wanted to scare me off.”
The agents exchanged a glance. The taller one said, “You’d swear an affidavit to that effect?”
“No.”
Two sets of eyebrows lifted.
“I’m not going to swear to anything when I don’t have all the facts,” I told them. “I don’t know exactly what happened. It could have been little green men…or it could have been someone taking the opportunity to try to put me out of business. But which one do you two gentlemen think is more likely?”
“You tell us.”
I stared at both of them, certain that I couldn’t make a single misstep or I’d be in a world of hurt. On the other hand, I was acutely aware of time passing. Grayson could be back at any moment — and I just couldn’t risk the two agents still being here when he arrived.
“Look, I run a business devoted to UFOs. You know that. But I think we also know it’s far more plausible that a competitor was trying to give me a scare. In fact, I’d love it if you could find out who it was. There has to be a law against that sort of thing, doesn’t there?”
For the first time, they looked a little uncomfortable. The taller agent said, “I’m afraid commerce isn’t our department, ma’am. But I’d say it was unscrupulous even if it wasn’t illegal.”
He didn’t exactly smile, but something in his face seemed to soften the slightest bit, and that was when I knew they were both as human as I was, even if they were doing their best to toe the company line. It didn’t mean I was going to invite them over for dinner, but I also knew they were most likely just doing their best to plug a leak that had their superiors scrambling for plausible deniability. My crazy little story about a competitor buzz-bombing the tour group was probably a welcome lifeline they could hold on to and take back with them.
I wished I could feel more relieved that at least they weren’t alien-infected humans or hybrids, but the knowledge didn’t change the fact that I still wanted them out of my house before Grayson came back. Somehow, I managed a smile and replied, “Sounds like we’re on the same page here, then. I wish I could help you out more, but….”
“It’s no problem — ” the taller agent began, but his compatriot broke in, saying,
“Then you won’t mind if we take a quick look around?”
“Not at all,” I said at once, uttering a silent prayer that I’d had the presence of mind to stow my laptop under the placemats in the linen drawer. Technically, I could have demanded to see a warrant. That would have been a bad move, though — better to let them have their look-see and get out, rather than raise their suspicions once again by mentioning a warrant.
They nodded and went their separate ways, the tall agent going down the hall toward the bedrooms and my office, the shorter one looking around the dining room and then the kitchen. I held my breath, wondering if he was going to start pawing through the drawers, but it seemed he was content with just a cursory glance before heading out to the garage. Thank God Grayson was as neat about the workspace out there as he was with his bedroom; neither agent would find any real evidence of his presence in the house, unless they dug through the trash and found the bristles from his morning bout with Grandpa’s old electric razor.
Or the used condoms in my own bathroom trash can.
Heat rose in my cheeks, but I somehow managed to look on with mild interest as they continued their inspection. After about ten minutes, they reconvened in the living room, each giving the other the smallest of head shakes.
These aren’t the droids you’re looking for, I thought, and bit back a chuckle. “Everything okay?”
The tall agent gave the slightest of nods, but the shorter one asked, “You live here alone?”
“Yes.”
“Lot of space for one person.”
“I inherited it from my grandfather. My sister lived here with me until about a year ago.” Which I’m sure you knew already….
He gave me a hard look out of those dark eyes, a look that seemed to say he thought I was up to something but couldn’t find enough evidence to press the issue. Then I saw just the slightest lift of the shoulders under the black suit, as if conceding me the point in this match.
“I think we’re done here, Ms. Swenson,” he said. “Sorry to take up your time. However, I’d advise you to stay local, just in case we need to ask you any more questions.”
“I’m not planning on going anywhere. I’ve got a business to run.”
“So you’re going to reopen tomorrow?”
Damn. I’d forgotten about the sign on the door about the shop being closed for a family emergency. Smoothly, I said, “That was the plan. After Thursday, I needed to take a few days off, but I’d be stupid to miss out on the last few weeks of summer, you know?”
“Very good.” Another searching glance. “Then we know where to find you.”
And he nodded at the taller agent, who seemed almost embarrassed by his partner’s brusque behavior but knew better than to say anything. They went out and shut the door behind them without a goodbye.
Not that I cared. The important thing was that they were gone.
The relief that coursed over me was so intense, I actually felt my hands begin to shake. I pulled out one of the chairs to the dinette set in the breakfast nook and sat down, staring out the window at the carefully arranged rocks and desert plants in my backyard without really seeing them.
God, what next?
Lance
When his cell phone started vibrating in his pocket, he had half a mind to ignore it. He’d come up to Airport Mesa after leaving Michael’s house, hoping maybe the wind and the sky could clear the cobwebs in his head. True, the place was overrun with tourists, but he knew a couple of hard-to-get-to spots that only the most intrepid scenery-seeker would attempt. Actually, he was halfway surprised he even got cell phone service out here.
But he knew ignoring the call wasn’t really an option. Not that many people had his number, and almost any of them would have a damn good reason to be calling him.
He pulled out the phone and looked at the display. Kara.
Hers was about the last number he expected to see. Without thinking, he pressed “Accept” and held the phone up to his ear. “Kara?”
“Oh, hey, Lance.”
She sounded shaken, and icy fingers of worry started to trail down the back of his neck, despite the lingering heat of the day. “What’s the matter?”
A brittle little laugh that didn’t fool him for a second. “Guess who just paid me a visit?”
“Who?”
“A couple of MIBs.”
“What?”
“That’s right. Oh, they were very polite, but…they wanted to know about Thursday night. Don’t suppose you saw the YouTube video.”
If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she was getting some perverse pleasure out of piling on the shocks. “What video?”
“I guess one of my clients got around to uploading the footage off his phone earlier today. According to Kiki, it went viral. It’s down now — says ‘Video removed by user,’ but I’m guessing it wasn’t Travis who took it down.”
No, probably not. Lance stared out westward, roughly in the direction of the base in Secret Canyon, then said, “What did you tell them?”
“Not much. I hinted that I thought it was a rival tour owner out to scare off my customers by getting a friend with a helicopter to buzz me.”
“Nice.” Trust Kara to be able to think on her feet. He wouldn’t say that nothing fazed her, but she’d been hit with enough disasters in her life that she didn’t rattle too easily. “Do you think they bought it?”
“I think so. It’s times like this I really wish I were psychic like Persephone. But I do think they were…like us. Regular people. Not…them.”
Interesting tidbit. Sounded like the right hand didn’t know what the left hand was doing. Or, maybe more accurately, the right hand was going about its business while the feet were carrying the whole damn thing someplace that ol’ right hand really didn’t want to be.
“Are you okay?” he asked abruptly. He wanted her to say she wasn’t. He wanted her to say that she’d been shaken up by the whole experience and that she needed him to come over.
She hesitated. “Sure. They weren’t that scary, actually. One of them was almost nice.”
His tone flat, he repeated, “‘Nice.’”
“Okay, not nice nice, but…anyway, I’m fine. Of course they gave me the standard line about not leaving town. Stupid. I mean, where would I even go? I’ve had a few days to get my head together, and I need to get back to work tomorrow.”
He and Kara didn’t have the sort of relationship where he could feel comfortable asking about what she’d done with those few days. Besides, thanks to the intelligence he’d gotten from Felicia Martinez, it was pretty clear what Kara had been doing with at least part of that time. He really didn’t want to think about that, though.
She added, in an overly cheerful tone of voice that was probably intended to reassure him but in fact did just the opposite, “Well, we’ll certainly have a lot to tell Paul and Persephone when they get back in town. Hard to believe it’s only been four days!”
“You could put it that way.”
A pause. “Everything okay, Lance?”
“Everything’s great,” he rasped. He wasn’t about to tell her what was really bothering him. “I just don’t know if it’s such a great idea for you to be there by yourself.”
“I’m not by myself — I’ve got Gort to protect me.”
“Yeah, well, unless he can shoot laser beams out his eyes like the original Gort, I’m not sure how much good he’d be in an actual crisis.”
She actually laughed at that gloomy remark, and her laughter this time sounded genuine, with nothing of the forced cheeriness he’d heard from her just a minute ago. “That would be something. But no, you’re right. I love Gort, but he’s just a big pussycat. Good thing he looks fierce enough that most people don’t try to find out whether his bite is worse than his bark.”
Lance considered offering to stop by and then decided against it. Hovering wasn’t his style, and if he pressed the issue much more, Kara might begin to realize that his solicitude stemmed from something more than just friendly concern. “Well, then, thanks for the update. I’ll let Michael know what’s going on, and once Paul and Persephone are back, we’ll try to set up a time we can all get together and discuss our next steps.”
Once again, she hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, but enough so he noticed. “Yeah, sure, that sounds good. Let me know.”
“Will do. ’Bye.”
He ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket, then stared once more out toward the western horizon, where the sun was finally beginning to touch the edge of the Black Hills. The wind had started to pick up as sunset approached, and he lifted his face into it. Right then, it was taking just about every ounce of determination he had not to go back to the Jeep, drive down the hill, and head over to Kara’s house. If the shit really was about to hit the fan, he wanted to be with her, watching out for her. He sure as hell didn’t want her relying on Mr. Muy Caliente, whoever he might be.
But in that direction, as they say, lay madness. He took a breath, then another, and forced himself to stay where he was.
Kara
Grayson came back almost an hour after the agents had left. After I’d ended my conversation with Lance, I roamed the house, unable to do much of anything constructive, although I did some general tidying-up as a way of expending my nervous energy. I’d opened my laptop, but when I saw sixty-seven unread messages in my inbox, I decided to put that off for another day. Probably most of the emails were from people who’d seen the video and now wanted their own extra-special close encounters.
Sometime the next day, I’d have to update the store’s website to say there weren’t going to be any more tours in the immediate future, but I knew I couldn’t deal with that right now. Kiki had designed and built the website and put the whole thing in WordPress so it would be easy to update…theoretically. More than once, I had managed to blow up the whole thing, though, so I thought it better to avoid logging in until I felt a little more settled.
I’d just shoved the laptop back into its bag when I heard the automatic garage door open, followed by the deep rumble of the Indian. At once, Gort got up and assumed his waiting position on the rag rug just inside the door to the garage.
“Yeah, well, I’m not sure Grayson is going to want to go on a walk right away,” I warned him. Still, I thought I knew how the dog felt. All that time, I couldn’t stop myself from worrying about him, about the fact that he was out riding around alone in a town he didn’t know, on a motorcycle that didn’t belong to him, all the while with no driver’s license. I probably should have tried harder to keep him from going, but he was a grown man. There was only so much I could have done.
But when he entered the kitchen, he looked considerably more cheerful than when he had left. His hair was mussed from the helmet, and he grinned at me as he bent down to scratch Gort behind the ears.
“Beautiful country around here, isn’t it?”
I nodded. Not much argument with that. “Did any of it look familiar?”
“Not really. Not except for the part I saw yesterday, that is.”
I should have expected as much. Could I really fault him for getting out and trying to see things on his own, without someone else’s input to possibly skew how he was looking at the area around town?
Some part of me had wanted to be angry with him for being foolhardy, but as he looked at me with that melting smile, I knew I couldn’t hold on to that anger. There was something so open and joyous about him, so lacking any subtext, that I just couldn’t be upset with him for very long. He was so different from any of the other men I had known.
So different from Lance.
With an inner grimace, I pushed that thought aside. Maybe the brooding hero was a standard romance-novel archetype, but he was also sort of a pain in the ass to deal with on a daily basis. Grayson was so much easier to get along with.
I smiled back at him and stood, going to him so I could give him a hearty kiss. He immediately pulled me more tightly against him so I could feel the heat of his body, the strength of those arms as they folded around me. From somewhere, I heard Gort give a discontented little whine, as if he knew all too well where this was heading.
Sure enough, Grayson scooped me up in his arms and carried me down the hallway to the bedroom. I couldn’t protest, not without sounding like a fool, because I knew I wanted him just as badly as he wanted me. At least I was pretty sure the MIBs had taken themselves off for the time being; I’d gone out front to pick up the neglected newspaper from my driveway as a pretext to do a brief scan of the neighborhood, and I hadn’t seen any cars I didn’t recognize. No, they’d probably dismissed me as harmless…for the time being.
So it was perfectly safe to let Grayson lay me down on the bed, to reach out and pull off his slightly sweaty T-shirt, to say the hell with the foreplay and wrap my legs around him and draw him into me, our bodies joining in a rush of heat and need. In that moment, I let myself forget about everything in the world.
Except him.
The next day, I dragged myself into the store, even though I would have happily continued my hiatus for a few more days. However, I couldn’t justify that, even to myself. And though Monday was usually one of my days off, I didn’t have Kiki to spell me, so I would be stuck there the whole day.
Grayson didn’t seem too put off by my declaration that I had to get back to work, but instead commented that he thought the Indian was running a little rough, and so he planned to re-jet the carbs. I had no idea what that meant exactly, so I nodded and said that sounded like a great idea.
The deluge of emails I’d received after the video surfaced — albeit briefly — translated into an unaccustomed rush at the store when I opened the doors at ten. After explaining to approximately the twentieth person that I wasn’t going to be hosting any tours in the near future, I pulled out a Sharpie and composed a sign that read “All UFO tours suspended until further notice” and taped it to the front door. I still had to explain myself to the more stalwart diehards, but the looky-loo types read the sign and departed for greener pastures without ever coming inside. It was something, at least.
Even so, the day seemed interminable, and because Kiki was out of town and Michael unavailable, I couldn’t even take a break to go home for lunch. I’d prepped Grayson for this eventuality by pointing out some of the frozen dinners in the freezer and giving him a quick primer on how the microwave worked, but it still seemed wrong that I would be kept away all day.
The day improved slightly when I got a text from Persephone saying they were on their way home and should be getting into town around seven that evening. I forwarded the text to both Lance and Michael and suggested a meeting for Tuesday night, but Michael already had a workshop scheduled for that evening, so we made tentative plans for Wednesday instead.
In an impulse, I sent a follow-up text to Persephone. If you two aren’t too tired, could you come over for dinner on Tuesday around seven? There’s someone I’d really like you to meet.
The reply came back almost immediately. Sounds great. Do you need us to bring anything?
Just yourselves…and a bottle of wine, if you’d like.
Will do! See you then.
Maybe I was being a little impulsive, inviting the Olivers over so soon, but I secretly hoped Persephone’s powers would prevail where hypnotherapy had not. Sooner or later, we’d have to get through the impenetrable wall that seemed to have enclosed Grayson’s past. Best that it should come from Persephone, who would be sympathetic no matter what happened.
Funny how someone I’d only known for a few months had become my best friend. My circle was large, but I counted most of those people as acquaintances and not close friends. Kiki and I had always been very close, of course, though that wasn’t quite the same as having a friend of your same age and experience, more or less. Until Paul Oliver came along, Persephone’s love life hadn’t been all that great, either. She knew what it was like to be a single woman in her early thirties with the sort of job that tended to scare off any halfway decent prospects.
Anyway, I had to hope that Seph would like Grayson and want to help. I really didn’t see how anyone could not like Grayson, but maybe Persephone would think I was rushing things. Maybe so. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I knew the current state of affairs couldn’t continue indefinitely.
On Tuesday, I put together my famous Greek stew in the crockpot so I wouldn’t be rushing around at the last minute, trying to get everything ready in the scant hour between the time the shop closed and when the Olivers were due for dinner. I tried to impress on Grayson the need to be ready for company at a little after six, and he nodded, but I wasn’t sure how much had sunk in. He’d been preoccupied with the motorcycle, whose carburetor was proving to be a little more temperamental than he had planned.
So I wasn’t all that surprised when I got home around six-thirty and found him still out in the garage, grease smudges on his chin and cheekbone, and his hands not fit for company in their current state.
“You have got to take a shower,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “My friends are going to be here in half an hour.”
“That’s plenty of time,” he replied, fiddling with some unidentifiable slender brass part.
“Um, no, not really. Come on, Grayson — you’ve been messing with that thing all day.”
“All right.” An expression of irritation passed over his features, but almost at once, he relaxed and shook his head, as if annoyed with himself. “Sorry, Kara. I’ll go make myself pretty.”
“You’re pretty right now,” I said, and gave him a swift kiss while avoiding the grease smudge on his chin.
He got up then and went inside the house, thankfully in the direction of the master bath. For the last few days, we’d given up any pretense of him having separate accommodations in Kiki’s old room.
Somewhat relieved, I went back to the kitchen to crumble the feta cheese and get the kalamata olives ready to be added to the stew. Since it was a one-dish meal, about all that was left was to prep the salad and heat up the loaf of bread I’d bought at Wildflower on my way home from the shop.
I didn’t know whether Persephone had been an on-time sort of person prior to hooking up with Paul Oliver, but the couple could always be counted on to be punctual. So I wasn’t surprised when the doorbell rang at one minute past seven. Grayson, of course, was nowhere in sight. I’d have to make excuses for him and hope he wouldn’t take too much longer.
Persephone enveloped me in a hug as soon as I opened the door. “We’ve been so out of touch — but Lance told us about the UFO and the MIBs — ”
“Yesterday’s news,” I said, with what I hoped was an airy wave of the hand. “Come on in.”
Persephone and Paul followed me into the kitchen, where Paul sniffed the air appreciatively.
“That smells amazing.”
“It’s Greek stew.”
He threw a look of mock-dismay at his wife. “So you’re half Greek, Persephone, but it’s the Swedish gal who ends up making me Greek stew?”
Her hazel eyes danced. “If you thought you married me for my cooking, we’re both in a world of hurt.”
“No, it was all your other sterling qualities, fortunately.”
They exchanged fond glances, and I felt something inside me twist a little. This was what I wanted with Grayson — this feeling of being so easy, so relaxed. But was that possible when so much of him was still hidden from me?
“My apologies for Grayson,” I said then. “He got a little caught up in working on the bike, and I had to pry him away from a carburetor. He should be out of the shower in a few minutes.”
“No problem,” Paul said. “My stomach can hang on for a little while longer.” He glanced out the sliding glass doors, where the red rocks above the backyard were beginning to turn even redder with the coming of sunset. “You mind if I take a look at your yard? I still haven’t had a chance to really check out the medicine wheel Michael made for you.”
“Absolutely.”
“But only if you open the wine first,” Persephone put in. She handed Paul the bottle of cabernet she was carrying.
“Opener?” he asked, looking resigned.
Suppressing a smile, I went to the odds and ends drawer and pulled out a corkscrew, then handed it to him. He struggled a little with the foil but eventually got the cork out. “Glasses?”
I produced those as well, and he poured a decent measure into each wine glass before snagging one for himself and letting himself out into the yard.
“Poor dear,” Persephone remarked. “I’m probably better at that than he is, but I like to make him feel useful.”
“Yeah, right. I’m guessing he’s more than a little useful.”
She cocked her head slightly and twisted a dark curl around one finger. “Oh, okay. He’s definitely useful. And decorative. But enough about my husband. Tell me about this mystery man. We’re gone five days and you’ve already found someone?”
“More like ‘finally found someone,’ but yes. It seems kind of crazy, but — ”
“These days, I don’t worry about crazy so much. It’s easier that way. How did you meet him?”
“Well, that’s kind of complicated.” Even now, I wasn’t sure exactly how to explain what had happened, although I knew the truth would have to come out at some point. I drank some wine, hoping that might make the confession a little easier. “He just sort of…stumbled over my doorstep, in a manner of speaking.”
“Ah.” If Persephone the psychic had picked up more from my statement than its face value, she didn’t seem to show it.
But then I thought I heard movement down the hallway, and I looked past Persephone to see Grayson cutting through the living room on his way to the kitchen. His hair was still a little damp, but otherwise he looked more than presentable, in clean jeans and the one button-up shirt I’d bought him, with the sleeves rolled back slightly because of the warmth of the day. “Here he is. Grayson, this is my friend Persephone. Persephone, this is Gray — ”
The word broke off abruptly, because I watched as Persephone shifted her position to greet Grayson…only to see her turn dead white. She was always pale, but right then she looked as if she was going to faint. The wine glass slipped from her fingers and fell with a crash to the floor.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered.
Grayson looked at Persephone in confusion, then over at me.
I asked, past the constriction of worry in my throat, “Seph, what’s the matter?”
Persephone shook her head. “It’s not possible. He’s…he’s one of them!”
Somehow, I managed to ask the question, even though my own hands had begun to shake. When a psychic had a reaction like that, it was not a good thing. “One of who?”
It was Paul who answered. Apparently, he had headed back toward the house as soon as he’d seen Grayson appear. The astrophysicist shut the sliding door behind him and said, “One of the alien/human hybrids.”