Alien Rites (23 page)

David kept his voice low-key and gentle. “Would you be willing to read me the note, Mrs. Cochran?”

David was aware that Della, Mel, and String were watching and listening. He felt self-conscious.

“You mean now?” Tina Cochran said.

David picked up a pen, grabbed a fresh scratch pad. “If you would. And it's important, Mrs. Cochran, not to leave anything out. Even if it seems … private.”

“It says, ‘Mama—I didn't say I love you yesterday when I saw you. I can't even remember the last time I thanked you for all you've done for me, when I know times have been hard. I know you won't take my money, but maybe if I get a new, different kind of job, you'll take some of that. Anyway, I almost got killed tonight. It makes me think a lot. I've done something I'm not too proud of. So I'm writing you a note while I wait for the SART—you can see I had to scrounge for paper. You come close to death, Mama, it makes you think. I'm afraid I may be pretty sick. I'm planning to get well, but if I don't come over for a while, don't worry. I don't want you to catch this. Love, your son, Luke.'”

She stopped reading and sobbed. David gave her a minute to get herself together.

“Mrs. Cochran, hang on to the note, will you? We're going to need to look at it.”

“Oh. But … will I get it back?”

“I'll see that you do.”

“It's … it's a good thing, isn't it?”

“I'm not sure what it means, long-term.”

“It's like he's telling me he loves me. And it's kind of like … goodbye.”

“Mrs. Cochran, are you all right?”

“I just—It's a funny thing, Detective. 'Cause I haven't give up hope all this time. And if you read the note, you could get from it that he was going to go away for a while. Kind of hide out. But …”

“But what?”

“Soon as I read it, I got the awfulest feeling. I think my boy is dead.”

David didn't know what to say.

“Could you please just find out for sure, sir? One way or the other?”

David put his head in his hands. “I'll do my best, Mrs. Cochran.”

“Bless you.”

David hung up. Swore softly.

“What?” Della said.

David shook his head.

String hovered over his shoulder. “Isss this correct that she has communication from the dead?”

“He could still be alive,” Della said.

“He was alive when he wrote it,” David said.

“Maybe the yes, maybe the no.” String swayed to one side. David waited for him to slide back in the other direction. He didn't.

“She recognize the handwriting?” Mel asked.

David nodded. He went to his reader, started the list while Mel picked up the note pad on his desk, passed it to Della.

Miriam's sister, Janet, had done a lot of shopping in the week since Miriam had been missing. She had bought clothes. Nothing definite there. A bathrobe. Makeup. David skipped to her grocery list.

Micro-meals, a lot of chicken, cat food, fiber bars, kiwi fruit, chewing gum, Coke, milk and … David scrolled back. Orchard peach juice, chocolate bars, crunchy peanut butter.

So Miriam was alive. David chewed a knuckle, wondering how to find her. He picked up the phone to inquire when her sister went off shift.

FORTY-SIX

It was dusk when David and Mel watched Janet Kellog walk out of her precinct. She was striking in the black uniform, body generously built and curvy, hair blond enough to have come out of a bottle. Up close, her eyes would be wide and blue. Two sisters could not have looked less alike than Janet and Miriam.

“Maybe they
both
drink peach juice, ever think of that?” Mel's voice was rough around the edges.

“Maybe.”

“Reassure me, why don't you? And for the record, I still think we should talk to Janet direct.”

David was sleepy. He resisted the impulse to rest his head against the car window. “Look, Mel, you called her as soon as you got worried, right? And she said she hadn't seen Miriam. She hasn't reported her sister missing, or acted worried, and we know the two of them are close. If Janet's telling the truth, talking to her won't help. If she lied, it'll only put them on the alert.”

“Them?”

“Janet and Miriam.”

“I hope you're right about this, David.”

“Me too. Okay, she's going. Don't get too close, but don't lose her.”

“Not a chance.”

David was quiet while Mel drove. He looked at the tip of white paper folded in Mel's right coat pocket. He'd seen the hand-off, heard String say it was for him, David, from Aslanti, but Della had flagged him down, and he hadn't heard the rest of their conversation. He swallowed, throat dry and hurting, wondered when Mel would see fit to hand it over. Tried to decide whether or not he really wanted it.

“Shit,” Mel said.

David realized he'd been dozing. He couldn't sleep at night if and when he ever got to bed, but let him sit still for a minute while he was working, and he couldn't keep his eyes open.

“She's going home.”

“Park,” David said.

“And then what?”

“Patience, Mel.”

Mel pulled the car in across the street. They watched Janet go up the stairs to her town house, bend down as she opened the door and pick up a cat.

“What's that in your pocket, Mel? That for me?”

Mel looked at him, distracted. He patted his pocket, pulled the paper out. “Yeah, it's for you. From Aslanti.”

“What is it, a bill?”

Mel's voice went low and offhand. “It's a list of symptoms. What you should look out for, so you know when to go to the hospital.”

“You look at it?”

“Of course I looked at it. I'm nosy—I'm a cop, right? It's like this. You start feeling so crappy, you get dizzy spells and can't stay on your feet—that's like your clue. Go for help.”

“Got ya.”

Mel looked at him. “Isn't there
any
thing they can do?”

“Yeah. They're going to freeze-dry me at the hospital.”

“Like a micro-meal?”

“They try and put me in a little square tray, I'm going home.”

“You serious? They're really going to freeze-dry—”

“The virus and bacteria in my system. Just that part, we're hoping.”

“Don't make assumptions when it comes to medics, David. They got methods of torture—Heads up, she's back.”

“Told you. And would you mind not bringing up the words ‘hospital' and ‘torture' at the same time?”

“Aslanti will take care of you.”

“Actually, I think she will. Okay. Stay on her.”

“No back seat detective driving.”

Janet led them across the city to the parking lot of the Continental Inn.

“I don't believe this. The
Continental.
”

“Mel, it's the chic place to hide out.”

“It's a
dump
.”

“That too.”

“Wasn't this where—”

David looked out the window. “Yeah. Yeah to whatever.”

They both knew Mel meant Teddy. They both knew David didn't want to talk about it.

They hung back in the lobby. Janet had changed to jeans and a sleeveless denim shirt tied at the waist. She carried a bag that looked like it had groceries. She moved quickly without a backward glance, bypassed the elevators, and headed for the stairs.

Mel looked at David, who shrugged.

“We follow her. Miriam won't be registered under her own name. Janet will have to lead the way. Give her one second, to get ahead.”

Mel bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet. “Jeez, I'm so nervous, my palms are sweating. That hasn't happened since—”

“Yesterday,” David said.

Mel's grin was forced.

“Mel, there's something I want to mention about Miriam.”

“Yeah? Come on, David, we don't want to lose Janet.”

“Take it easy, don't get too close. Look, you should be prepared.”

“For what?”

“Miriam may have … changed. Become more than … God, I sound stupid.”

“You got that right.” Mel opened the swinging door to the stairwell, and David followed him in.

Janet was waiting for them on the third step, feet apart, gun at the ready—police issue, glowing green from her fingerprints, safety off.

“
You?
” she said.

“Hi,” David said.

“Hi? What the hell are you guys doing here?”

“Following you.”

“That I know. I wasn't sure, but I had a funny feeling when I was driving over.”

“
No
way you made us,” Mel said.

“But I definitely picked you up in the lobby. Wished I'd turned around to get a look at you. Would have saved me sitting on these damn stairs with my hands shaking. I was afraid the gun would go off before you got here.”

“What a shame that would be,” Mel said. “Speaking of which.”

But Janet had already thumbed the safety back on, and was sliding the gun into her purse. In spite of her words, David noticed that she handled the weapon with an offhand authority that he envied.

“What are you doing here, guys?”

Mel sighed. “Don't be conversational, Janet. I been worried sick. I want to see her.”

“She's been wanting to see you. I talked her out of it.”

“Thank
you
so very much.”

“I'm trying to keep her safe, and it's hard as hell to figure out what's going on.”

“Hey, we're on the case and we got no idea.”

“Time we compared notes,” David said.

FORTY-SEVEN

If David had harbored any doubts about Mel and Miriam, they vanished when Miriam opened the door and saw Mel in the hallway.

Her mouth opened, her eyes lit up. He held out his arms and she went to him. David looked at Janet.

“Sickening, isn't it? David and I are going on in, guys. Under the circumstances, I think PDA's in the hallway are a
really
bad idea.” Janet sat on the edge of the bed and patted a spot next to her. “Get off your feet, my friend, you looked whipped. Miriam, for God's sake, close the door and lock up.”

Miriam closed the door and locked it and led Mel to the bed. She scrambled into the middle as unselfconsciously as a kitten and tugged Mel's hand so he'd sit beside her.

“Ain't this nice,” Janet said.

David was struck by how much she sounded like Mel.

Miriam gave her a look. “I told you he'd find me. I wanted to call you, Mel, but we decided it wasn't safe. You must have been worried sick.”

“Not for a minute.”

“He was beside himself.” David looked at his partner. Mel seemed years younger all of a sudden, and his voice was lightweight. Definitely a goner. Wedding bells, David thought. Which, under the circumstances, wasn't such a bad idea.

He glanced surreptitiously at Miriam. She wore cutoff jeans that were strained at the waist. The slight swell of belly was there if you knew to look for it. Strange to think the child inside was his future niece or nephew.

Mel plucked at the sleeve of her loose cotton shirt. “I wondered where that shirt got to.”

She grinned. Then sobered. “I have a million things to tell you, but I'm starving. Anybody else hungry?”

Janet shrugged.

Mel pursed his lips. “Now that you mention it. They don't have room service here, do they?”

Janet rolled her eyes. “The man is an optimist or an idiot. Never fear, guys, she's got a stash you would not believe.”

Miriam stuck her tongue out, wriggled off the bed, and burrowed in the small, dingy refrigerator. She passed around a bucket of cold barbecued chicken nuggets, mango strips, chocolate bars, and a jar of peanut butter. She was drinking Orchard peach juice, but Janet, mercifully, came up with an eight-pack of beer.

“
One
of us isn't—” She stopped abruptly, looked from Miriam to Mel. “Never mind.”

Mel took a swallow of beer. “One of you isn't what? Pregnant?”

Miriam, settled again in bed, took her finger out of the jar of peanut butter that, oddly enough, no one else seemed interested in sharing. “Mel. You know?”

“Either you're pregnant or you've spent the last couple of weeks eating everything in sight. Looks like both to me.”

“If I felt like getting up, I'd hit you,” Miriam said flatly. “When did you figure it out?”

“Not till you went missing. I started telling David about you one morning, kind of adding things up, while he was feeding his pet pig.”

Janet looked at David. “He
did
say ‘pig'?”

Mel kept talking. “And he gets this real funny look. Then he starts dropping all these heavy hints, so I talked it over with Della, and she told me in three minutes flat you were pregnant.”

“Well?”

“Well? Well, why didn't you tell me?”

“Here they go,” Janet said.

“I wasn't sure how I felt about things.”

“Yeah, I found that list you made. You like my butt, but you're afraid I may be set in my ways.”

David moved off the bed to a chair, mainly for the back support, though it wouldn't hurt to be out of the line of fire. He was tired. He wanted to go home. He closed his eyes.

“David?” Mel was tapping his shoulder. “David?”

He opened his eyes, got the feeling that time had passed. He rubbed the back of his neck. His head hurt. It was an effort to sit up in the chair.

“Sorry. I fall asleep?”

Mel looked at him. “You had anything at all to eat today?”

“I ate earlier.”

“Sure you did.”

“Mel. Leave it. Miriam, I need to hear what happened the night Cochran disappeared, if you and Mel have settled your personal business. Is Luke dead?”

Miriam stood up, one knee on the bed. David couldn't help remembering Teddy in a room just like this one—Teddy eating pizza, watching basketball, reading her romance books. Making love. He wished that he could talk to her. That she would call.