look at her. His clothing and his hair still held a fine layer of desert dust. Isabel resisted taking his hand or standing too close to him. Roswell was simply too small to take such risks. Someone would see them, jump to the obvious… and right… conclusion, and word would get back to her dad.
'You doing okay?' Jesse asked.
'I'm fine,' Isabel said. Not sitting beside him, not touching him, was hard, and it got more difficult every time she saw him in her dad's offices.
'How's your friend?' Jesse asked.
'She's okay,' Isabel said. 'Maybe a little stressed. But nobody got hurt.'
Jesse pointed at the television hanging from the ceiling in the corner by the admittance desk. 'Local news station is covering the story.'
Isabel stared at the television screen. She watched in disbelief as footage of the front of the Crashdown played on the set.
'They're suggesting that the damage was done by a poltergeist,' Jesse said. 'Totally weird, don't you think?'
Isabel tried not to hesitate. 'Yes,' she replied. To cover her momentary lapse, she asked a tension-filled question of her own. 'Did you let my dad know you were here?'
Jesse nodded. 'I told him I witnessed the accident and that I felt I needed to stay here to make sure the woman was okay. He understood. Then he told me you were here. Told me to help you if you needed it. He's got a conference call that he couldn't put off.'
The whispering tone reminded Isabel of how much they were hiding, of how much they had at risk. Or, at least, how much she felt they had at risk. She gazed into his dark eyes. Why hadn't she ever felt like this about someone from Roswell High? Then guilt filled her. She hadn't felt that way about anyone in high school because none of the guys she'd been around there had been Jesse Ramirez.
'How is the woman doing?' Isabel asked.
'She's going to be okay. The police contacted her husband. He's here now.' Jesse paused. 'Do you remember how she was crying out for her baby?'
Isabel suppressed a shiver as she remembered the child-thing that had threatened her. She folded her arms across her chest. 'Yes.'
'She had a baby,' Jesse said. 'A little girl. But she died in childbirth.'
'That's horrible,' Isabel said. And she thought it was even more horrible because the thing in the vehicle had known of the woman's loss and had used that pain against the woman. But that didn't explain why Jesse hadn't been able to see the child-thing.
'Yeah,' Jesse said. 'It is. I heard the state police interviewing her husband when he got here. They wanted to make sure there hadn't been a baby, or that nothing had happened to the child.'
'Is the woman going to be okay?'
'The cut on her head isn't serious. The seat belt held her in place and the air bag protected her from most of the crash. But that doesn't explain why she freaked out and lost control of her vehicle.'
Isabel was silent for a moment, knowing that she knew exactly what had caused the woman to lose control, although she didn't know where the child-thing had come from. But she couldn't tell that to Jesse. The fact was a reminder of how much distance actually separated them, and she didn't know how… or if… they could bridge the gap.
'Hey,' Jesse said softly.
She looked at him.
'It's going to be okay,' he said.
'I know,' she said, and she wanted to believe him but she knew he didn't know everything he needed to in order to make that prediction. There were still too many things about her that he didn't know.
'… here at the scene of what is believed by some to be the result of a poltergeist manifestation.'
Michael leaned against the pass-through window at the back of the Crashdown and watched the news anchor, Marty Lackley, roll through his spiel. They were on the third take, and Marty wasn't happy with the job Bob the cameraman was doing.
Marty was also not happy that Nancy Parker had forbidden the news crew to step into the cafe. The part where the news reporter had gotten indignant and insisted on the public's right to know if the Crashdown was haunted had been hilarious.
The scene had taken some of the edge off the argument that Michael and Maria seemed to be locked into. However, when Maria had seen Michael smiling at the reporter's discomfort, she'd gotten mad all over again. Apparently, they were in another one of those arguments where everything was supposed to be unhappy for everybody until they somehow fixed what was wrong.
Since Michael didn't feel that he'd done anything wrong, he didn't have a clue how to fix the situation. The only good thing was that the construction crew Nancy Parker had called in had arrived and was in the process of taking over the cleanup. They didn't want anyone else in the cafe while they repaired the broken glass and electrical damage.
Michael gazed at the crowd still gathered on the other side of the street. The numbers had dwindled, but newcomers wanting to gawk or get a chance to be interviewed for television had arrived to replace the people who had to move on or had gotten bored.
One of the construction men stepped through the broken front window and out onto the sidewalk. Once there, the guy was fair game for the news team.
Marty hurried forward, gesturing to Bob the cameraman to keep up. Marty intercepted the construction guy and shoved a microphone in the guy's face, announcing his name and giving the station's call letters.
'Can you tell us if there's any truth to the rumor that the cafe owners have hired your company to excavate the graves covered by the foundation here?' Marty asked.
With increased interest, Michael watched the construction guy struggle to deal with the reporter's question.
'It's not my company,' the construction guy replied. 'And there's no…'
'Did you see the ghost?' the reporter asked.
The construction worker hesitated, glaring a little at the camera that was thrust into his face. 'I didn't see the ghost. I…'
'How bad is the damage?' the reporter pressed.
'Not too bad. I've seen a lot worse, I suppose.'
The construction owner stepped forward in the middle of the dining area. 'Kenny.'
The construction guy turned around.
'I need those tools,' the owner said. 'Let's get to it.'
Marty the anchorman decided to try to use that as an opening to get inside the cafe. He started for the empty window. 'Are you the construction foreman? I'm…'
'You'll be arrested for trespassing if you take one step in this building,' Nancy Parker warned as she came from the kitchen area.
Uncertain, Marty froze where he was, then took a step back. He scowled. 'You can't keep us from the truth, Mrs. Parker. We're the news.'
'Oh really, Mr. Lackley?' Nancy Parker challenged. 'Is that what you want to do? Advertise that the Crashdown Cafe is haunted?' She stepped on out into the dining room. 'Because I think that's libel. I'll have to speak with my husband's attorney to confirm that.'
'I didn't say that,' Marty said. 'You did.' He lowered his voice and spoke over his shoulder. 'You getting this, Bob?'
'Sure,' the cameraman replied. 'You talking about ghosts is something I want to see the station run. We'll get you up and running on one of the syndicated stations in no time. Before you know it, you'll be heading up Survivor: Haunted House.'
Jim Valenti stepped into Marty Lackley's view. Despite the unkempt three-day growth of beard, Valenti still broadcast waves of authority. Maybe he no longer wore the sheriff's star or carried a weapon, but he carried a presence with him.
'If I were you,' Valenti said in a low voice, 'I'd step back like the lady asked.'
