ELEVEN

Ralphs and company left just as Trudy came out of the kitchen with the coffee, nicely arranged on a tray. “Really?” she huffed as the door shut behind them.

“Don’t worry,” Mom said. “I’d still love a cup.”

I raised a hand. “Me too.”

Trudy looked at Rex. “Coffee?”

“Uh, sure,” he said, distracted. “Thanks.”

Trudy put the tray down on the table and handed him a mug as she turned back toward the kitchen. “Well, since they’re gone, I’ll put out some cookies, as well. Seems like a dessert-before-dinner kind of day.”

Mom turned to me with a scowl on her face. “Jimi, you shouldn’t antagonize people like that, especially not in the middle of something serious like this.”

“Oh, please. He shouldn’t antagonize me. I’m helping them as much as I can, and he’s treating me like I’m some sort of suspect.”

Trudy returned with a plate of cookies and put it on the table. We each grabbed one.

With my free hand I grabbed Rex’s. “You okay?” I said.

“What? Um, yeah, sure. Why?”

“You seem distracted.”

“Nah,” he said, giving my ponytail a tweak. “Hey, you know what? Let’s go for a run.”

Everybody looked at him.

I laughed. “A run?”

I love to run, and I really love to run with Rex, but I was tired and it was hot out and a lot of stuff had gone down. Plus, he had just gotten there.

He looked me in the eye. “Yeah, a short one.…Get some fresh air.”

“It’s like, a hundred and ten degrees out there and humid.”

“It’s barely ninety,” he said. Then he smiled. “And it’s a dry humidity.”

I looked down at his feet, at the heavy work boots he was wearing, totally inappropriate for a run. I shrugged. “Sure. Let’s go for a run.”

Mom and Trudy stared at us, vaguely perplexed.

“We’re going for a run,” I declared.

We went through the kitchen and out onto the back porch. The heat seemed to be trying to push us back inside. I paused to give Rex a questioning look. He held up a finger as we descended the steps. I was relieved to know he did have something to tell me, that we weren’t going to be exercising in the ninety-degree heat, with his work boots on, simply because he was in the mood.

As we trotted down the driveway, Rex looked over at the house next door.

“Yes,” I said quietly, “I am kind of freaked out that Stan Grainger has reappeared.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

Rex knew Stan. He had been there when I’d tried to get Stan’s help when Del was horribly sick from a splice gone wrong, when Stan refused and called the cops on us instead. Rex had been there when Stan shot Del, when he killed his own son. Rex knew all about Stan.

I almost reminded him that Del had lived at that house, too. But then I remembered, once again, that Rex had known Del as long as I had, that we had all been friends together, back when we were little and Del’s mom and my dad were still alive, when Rex was still Leo Byron, and life was, if not happier for all of us, at least less complicated.

Even after all these months, I still sometimes had trouble reconciling the fact that Rex and Leo were one and the same.

When we got to the street, Rex turned left and set off running. He fell into an easy jog, but his heavy boots, attached to his heavy self, thudded hard against the pavement.

“So?” I said, running beside him. The sun was lower in the sky, but it was still hot, and it still bathed the world in a golden haze. Perspiration quickly stood out on my face. Within seconds, I could feel droplets rolling between my shoulder blades. I shook my head, sending sweat flying.

Rex looked around again before speaking. “I recognized one of them.”

“What do you mean? One of who?”

“The photos they showed you. I recognized one of them. The guy with the bird splice.”

“You know him?” I said, my step faltering.

“Shh. Not so loud.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, for one thing, they didn’t ask me, they asked you. And second, I didn’t know if maybe you knew him, too, and just weren’t saying. But also, I didn’t know for sure if we should tell them at all.”

“What do you mean? Don’t tell me you’re starting to agree with CLAD!”

“No, of course not. But for whatever reason, they do seem to be taking a particular interest in you. Seems to me, we might want to find out why that is before the FBI does, in case it’s something that could hurt you somehow.”

“Agreed.” I had been thinking along similar lines, that I needed to find out why CLAD was talking about me and saving my life, keeping pictures of me around. It was more than a little bit disturbing.

We got to the end of the block, and as we turned the corner, both of us slowed to a stop.

“So who is he?” I asked, wiping a finger across my brow and flicking the sweat onto the pavement.

Rex did the same. He had a lot more sweat. “His name is Ogden. I don’t know him well. He’s a tech guy. He was part of Chimerica, but…he left.” He resumed jogging, slowly, and I fell into step beside him. “He actually used to work at Wellplant.”

I stopped. “Are you serious?”

He stopped, too. “It was a while back. He’s a bit older than us. This was long before he got his splice.”

“Do you know him well enough to ask him why his pals are getting me into trouble with the FBI?”

“Yeah, I think so. If I can find him. But before I do, you should probably decide how much you want to know.”

“What do you mean?”

We started running again. “I mean, you just told the FBI that you didn’t know any of the people in their photos. You were telling the truth and they probably believed you. Agent Ralphs seemed to, anyway. If I’m able to get information from Ogden…well, are you sure you want to put yourself into the position that the next time they ask, you have to lie about it?”

I was nodding even before Rex finished speaking. “Yes. I need to know what’s going on,” I said. “And like you said, if I can, I should find out before Agent Ralphs does. Or Scanlon.”

“So…should I ask around? See if I can get in touch with him?”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not, no. Whatever you want.”

“The only thing I don’t want is you putting yourself at risk by asking, getting into trouble or getting hurt.”

He laughed. “Well, you don’t have to worry about me.”

I laughed back. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“Rex, in the months since you’ve come back into my life you’ve been arrested twice, you’ve been shocked, beaten, almost had your lungs altered, and been imprisoned in a mine. Yes, I do have to worry about you.”

He glanced at me. “Sounds kind of bad when you put it like that.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Wait a second, you’ve been through all kinds of hell, too. Threatened. Abducted, shocked, mine collapses, and hospital implosions.”

“Don’t forget about the mudslide,” I said helpfully.

“How could I forget about the mudslide?”

Rex had a point. We had both been through a lot, and a lot of it was together.

“So,” I said, “I worry about you, and you worry about me, right?”

“I guess so. We worry about each other.”

“I guess we do, yeah.”

“Well, if we’re going to worry about each other, I guess we should stop running before we both drop dead of heat stroke.”

I laughed, but he was right. I was dying out there. We stopped, turned around, and walked slowly back to the house.