The nurse looked at him for a moment, but kept most of her attention on the bedding. 'She's made an amazing recovery in the middle of the night. They moved her upstairs, to Ward C. But they're doing some tests on her right now, so you can't see her. Besides, visiting hours haven't started yet. “
'Do you know where her sister is? Lisa? “
'Probably in the commissary. Or the smoking garden. “
Max thanked the nurse and quickly made his way toward the stairway. On the second floor he found a hospital map and located both the commissary and the smoking area.
As he approached the smoking area, he saw through the tall glass windows that the older Cameron sister was indeed there. She hadn't seen him yet, but as he opened the door, the pneumatics on it gave a slight hiss, and she turned.
'What are you doing back?' Her tone wasn't as hostile as before, though he could see the tension in her stance.
'How's Shania? “
'She's doing much better,' the woman said, stubbing her cigarette out in a gravel-filled ashtray. 'The doctors said it's a miracle she pulled out of the coma, and they can hardly believe how fast her other injuries are healing. The other woman in the wreck is also doing better. They're both out of danger. “
'That's good. “
'Shouldn't you be out of town by now?' Lisa eyed him warily. 'You don't know that I didn't call the cops on you as soon as you left the room last time. “
'No, I don't,' Max admitted. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a creased envelope. 'But I'm hoping that you didn't. “
Lisa sat down on a bench and motioned for Max to do the same. 'No, I didn't. Somehow, it didn't seem right. Since it looks like you healed her and all. At least that's what she says. “
Max sat down but said nothing.
'So, what are you, then?' Lisa asked. 'Shania thinks you're an angel or something, but I don't think angels are quite gonna look like you. Or have the cops after them. “
Max sighed. 'I can't really talk about it. Its not safe for me, and it wouldn't be safe forjyou, if you knew. “
She shot a peculiar look at him for a moment, then nodded. 'Fair enough. So why are you back here, then? “
'Because, as you said earlier, this isn't over for you.' Max held the envelope out toward her. 'This should help with the bills. “
She took the envelope and looked quickly at the contents, then regarded Max with the peculiar look again. 'This is a lot of money Is it stolen? “
Max shook his head.
'Drug money? “
'No,' Max said. 'It's completely safe for you to use. “
She nodded. 'Hmmmm. So, you're some kind of rich angel who's running from the law with a bunch of his friends? They all like you? “
Max grinned. 'They're all good people. And none of us deserve to be hunted.' He stood to leave. 'It's best if you don't mention to anyone that you ever saw me or talked to me. “
Lisa stood and winked, a wobbly grin on her face. 'Got that.' Max started to open the door, but she moved forward. 'Hey, I'm sorry to have been such a hard case on you before. Thanks for what you did earlier. And now'… she held out her hand… 'if I shake your hand, my hand won't turn silver, will it? “
Max grinned. 'Nope.' They shook hands, and Max exited the area, feeling good for the first time in almost twenty-four hours.
Roswell, New Mexico The morning sun was still low in the sky, but Jeff Parker was already out in front of the Crashdown, cleaning the windows. Nancy Parker looked out at him and grinned; he was as hardworking today as the day they had met. It was difficult to believe that 2003 was going to bring their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. It seemed like only a few years ago that they had met at that 1978 Village People concert; he was escorting his younger sister, and appeared to be one of the few heterosexual men there. They exchanged numbers and started dating shortly thereafter, and were married later that year. Both of them worked at various jobs for several years before Jeff decided to open his own diner, the Crashdown Cafe, in 1984. Little Elizabeth was barely over a year old then, and quite a handful, but somehow they'd managed to juggle the busy worlds of parenthood and the restaurant trade.
Back then, Nancy would hold Liz in one arm and help cook or waitress with the other. This morning, her arms were unencumbered as she mixed pancake and waffle batter, and kept an eye on the scones to make sure they didn't overbake. Today she didn't know where Liz was, only that she was off with the rest of her friends. What did they call them? 'The Bod Squad'? No, 'The Pod Squad. “
Nancy giggled a bit every time she heard the name; when she was twelve, she had idolized Peggy Lipton, who'd played Julie Barnes on The Mod Squad on TY and… much to her mother's chagrin… had also nursed a crush on Upton 's costar, Clarence Williams III. Ah, how things change.
The humorous moment faded quickly, replaced by melancholy. Nancy 's only child was on the run from the government and aliens and who knew what else. And except for occasional reports… like the one they had gotten last night… she had no way to protect her little girl.
As she turned, Nancy 's elbow knocked a bottle of Tabasco sauce from the counter, and it shattered on the floor. She grabbed a roll of towels and crouched behind the counter to clean it up.
She heard the sudden squeal of tires outside the cafe. Still squatting, she turned and looked through the glass pastry case and out toward the street to see what it was. A black van and a black sedan had pulled up outside the diner, and Nancy saw several men dressed in dark paramilitary clothing exit the vehicle at a run.
Nancy 's blood turned to ice as she heard someone bark an order at Jeff, who dropped his cleaning supplies and tried to run for the door of the cafe. He yelled her name, but they were on him in an instant, four of them crashing down on top of him.
Even before she heard them say it, Nancy knew the men were coming for her next. She scrabbled across the floor, ignoring the glass shard that stabbed into her leg from the broken Tabasco sauce bottle. She crawled through the swinging door and into the kitchen, and only then did she dare to stand up. Grabbing the cordless phone on the wall, she considered her options.
Do I call Jim or the Evanses? Phillip will know what to do. He's a lawyer. She started to dial, then realized she was half squatting in the middle of the floor, bleeding from the cut on her leg. She shook her head quickly, trying to focus. Okay, they're probably waiting out in the alley. And they'll head upstairs first.
She ran to the downstairs bathroom and locked the door behind her. She knew it wouldn't hold for very long, but maybe it would buy her time.
As her trembling fingers touched the cell phone's buttons, Nancy heard the men running up the stairs toward their home above the diner. The phone on the other end rang once, its small, purring sound nearly drowned out by the frantic beating of her own heart, and the noise from the men outside.
'This door's locked!' a male voice yelled outside the bathroom.
The phone rang again. Next came a click, and then she heard Diane Evans's voice. 'Hello? “
'Break it down if you have to,' another man outside ordered.
'Diane, it's Nancy. They've just taken Jeff, and they're raiding the house, looking for me. Oh, God, they're going to be here any second. Diane, you've got to… “
And then the door crashed inward, the frame splintering around the hinges and the lock.
Nancy found herself staring into the guns of two masked men dressed all in black.
