Part 13
“How’s Isabel,” Maria questioned when Michael demurely entered their room. “Haven’t professed your undying love to her yet, have you?”
“Maria -”
“No, Michael, don’t. I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time. Rath and Vilondra, the princess and her betrothed, destined to be together. Spare me,” Maria replied harshly as she stood up from the bed, glaring at him while she brushed past him on her way to the bathroom. “It’s not...your baby, is it, Michael?” She paused slightly in front of the television set, her fingers dancing lightly across the screen.
“God, no,” Michael spat, his words laced with disgust. “I...I don’t want Isabel. I don’t care about Isabel in that way and if you’re thinking about the time when we shared those dreams, well, that was a long time ago. Things are different now.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Maria quietly said with a shrug, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I remember what you said to Jesse. You said you’d had her first.”
“That wasn’t me, just like it wasn’t me that kicked you out of the car. It was that damn seal.”
“That’s nice,” Maria said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she fell backwards onto the bed. “Blame the seal that’s currently imbedded on Max’s brain for your aggressive attitude. Real convenient, Space Boy.”
Michael crawled on top of her, pinning her arms over her head with his hands. “I don’t love Isabel, Maria. I love you. I’m here with you. I want to be with you.” Without thinking, Michael pressed his lips to Maria’s, their slight connection skittering to life. Maria wrapped her long limbs around Michael’s waist and pulled him toward her. Neither of them were surprised by what followed as they tumbled off the bed and onto the floor.
* * *
Max opened the hotel room door, meeting Kyle and a shaky Isabel on the other side. He stepped backward slightly as he glanced at his sister and her baby’s father. Isabel’s hand firmly held onto Kyle’s; Kyle’s left arm wound tightly around Isabel’s waist, crushing her lithe frame against his stocky one. Never in his life had he imagined he would ever see his sister and his old enemy together. He opened his mouth to speak but only air would come out. Quickly clearing his throat to cover the awkward moment, he raised his eyes to meet Isabel’s. “Are you okay,” he asked, a tiny smile forming on his lips as he stepped into the room. His eyes immediately sought out Liz, and sighed in relief when he saw her sleeping form on the bed.
“I’m still a little shaky,” Isabel replied with a smile, her body still clinging to Kyle’s. “It’s not every day you find out you’re going to have a baby.”
“Right,” Max said with a quiet chuckle. He sat in one of the chairs surrounding the tiny table. He scratched absently at his forehead while Kyle and Isabel remained suspended in the doorway, not quite in the room and not quite into the parking lot. He cleared his throat again, his mind wondering when things had become so awkward between he and his sister. “You’re going to your room?”
“Iz needs to lie down,” Kyle responded, and Max’s eyes were drawn to Kyle’s arm as it tightened around his sister’s waist.
“That’s probably a good idea,” he agreed, standing up from the chair and walking toward the doorway. “Take a nap, Iz. We can talk later.”
“Okay, Max,” Isabel responded, smiling weakly, glancing over Max’s shoulders to Liz, still asleep on the bed. She hesitantly stepped toward him and wrapped her free arm around his neck in an clumsy hug. “I...I’ll just talk to you later then.” Isabel released him, her eyes seeking some sort of emotion in Max’s other than annoyance and agitation but she was met by a wall of blankness. Smiling again, she turned toward Kyle, allowing him to support her and they exited Max’s room.
The moment the door was closed behind Isabel and Kyle’s retreating forms, Max sighed loudly and allowed his head to drop backwards. He threaded his hands through his shaggy hair as he stepped toward the bed, feeling his frustration level building. If only Liz were awake, he thought. Then again, his mind chided him, Liz needed sleep. Whatever nightmare she’d experienced the previous night had been torturous enough to cost her precious rest, something they’d all taken for granted when they slept soundly in their own beds. Max felt his body sag onto the bed and against his better judgment, he carefully curled his body behind Liz’s, his left arm wrapping tightly around her waist. He inhaled, breathing in the clean smell of her hair. “Liz,” he sighed quietly, almost like he was murmuring a prayer.
“Max,” Liz responded in kind, shimmying her back flush to Max’s chest, pulling his arm tighter around her body and Max felt his body quake as the huskiness of his wife’s voice reverberated through his ears. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” Max breathed against her neck, his legs winding through hers, semi-pinning her in some ancient wrestling move.
“Show me,” Liz whispered, opening her brown eyes slowly, allowing them to dilate and to focus only on Max. “Show me how much you love me.” And Max was all too happy to comply with his wife’s request.
---------------
Part 14
June 18, 2002
Max began slowly, as he always does, that methodical control he hinges his life on is no different in the throws of passion. Being very new newlyweds says something about our tendency to turn to sex during the most heated of crises, but oh how I love the feel of Max’s love enveloping me. To share such a perfect union with someone who knows you to the core of your soul is exhilarating (which is probably why we spend so many hours in bed) and I wouldn’t trade these solitary hours with my husband for anything in the world, even given the chance to go home in peace. Having said that, I can’t understand why I’m awake and not curled against his chest, our twin souls mating as we sleep. I remember now -- Isabel’s lie.
Two Hours Earlier
“You are...amazing,” Max panted in her ear as his hand swept slowly down her body. He smiled widely at Liz, the dimples in his cheeks proudly displayed. He placed a passionate kiss on her lips, capturing and tugging gently on her bottom lip. “Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” He laughed slightly, allowing his body to fall backwards onto the sheets.
Liz pursed her lips in response to Max’s jest, narrowing her eyes at him. She pressed her upper body against Max’s chest and sighed as he wrapped his arms tightly around her back. “Only in my dreams,” she whispered after placing a chaste kiss on his chest.
“Then your dreams must have been very good,” he said, snuggling them further underneath the sheets. “You’re very talented.” He smiled at her again as he adjusted their bodies so they were once again flush. He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot behind her ear, unable to suppress the
growl that came from his throat when Liz squirmed against him in response. “You’re killing me here, Mrs. Evans.”
“Ah...Max,” she sighed against his cheek as Max continued to assault her neck with his kisses. “We need...to talk.”
“No time for talking, Liz. I just want to make love to you again.”
“We have to talk about Isabel,” Liz argued, closing her eyes as Max’s mouth pressed against her skin. The moment Isabel’s name left her mouth, Max’s kisses stopped.
“I really don’t want to talk about Isabel, Liz,” he groaned, putting distance between their bodies. He exhaled loudly and blew a stream of air upward, causing his bangs to dance wildly for several seconds.
“Max,” Liz pleaded as she pushed herself into an upright position on the bed facing her husband. “I...Isabel’s lying.”
“What? Lying about what?”
“About the baby’s father,” Liz whispered, dropping her head to her lap. “I...I know it’s not Kyle.”
“How do you know that,” Max asked, leaning forward while he propped his arms on his knees. “Did you have a flash or something?”
Liz nodded hesitantly. “When I touched her, I got a flash that she was pregnant. Why else would she call Jesse, Max, if not because of the baby?”
“But Iz said she didn’t know she was pregnant. Why would Kyle say the baby was his when it really isn’t?”
“I don’t know,” Liz shrugged. “The only reason I could think of would be to protect Isabel.”
“Why would Kyle want to protect Isabel,” Max questioned, leaning closer to Liz, his mind now occupied with thoughts of Isabel and the confusion surrounding her unborn child instead of his wife’s partially exposed nude body. “D...does Kyle love...her?”
“He cares for her, Max, but if it’s love...I...I don’t know. All I know is that he’s lying about being the baby’s father because the baby is Jesse’s.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you,” Max asked, unable to resist the smirk that crossed his lips.
“I haven’t thought of much else since my nightmare,” Liz timidly admitted, brushing her hair behind her ears. “You don’t know how I felt when Isabel gave me Alex -”
“Alex?”
“That’s the baby’s name,” Liz whispered, her eyes on the verge of tears as she raised her head to meet Max’s concerned face. “So I took him and Isabel disappeared. Then I...I dropped the baby.” Her lips began to tremble and Liz had never felt such relief as she did when Max placed the palm of his hand on her shoulder. Her mind instantly flashed back to the moment he had driven her home from the hospital the night her grandmother had died. There had been so much on her mind that night, so many things she had wanted to tell him, but he had silenced her with a finger to her lips. She had almost reached the cafe doors when her heart had stopped her forward progress and had told her to go to Max, just like it had told her to call him days earlier. She had quickly turned and without a word, had thrown herself into Max’s arms. And just as he was doing now, Max had comforted her with his touch.
“You don’t have to say any more, Liz,” Max softly replied, folding her into his arms. Liz buried her head in the crook of his neck, closing her eyes while the tears began to stream down her face. “You’re alright now. Everything’s going to be alright.”
In the moment that Max tucked my body compactly into his lap, he opened up his soul to me. I saw his fears and his hopes for our future. I felt the responsibility he shoulders for all of us and I knew the one thing that plagued him the most was that Cal Langley had the ability to answer almost every question we had about Isabel’s child and my new abilities. But I also knew how he felt when he returned from L. A., how broken and dejected he had been the moment he stepped into the cafe and how I had held him as he cried. I knew how heavily he had been weighing Michael’s suggestion to find Cal Langley and that I had more power over him than anyone. That was when I decided I should use my powers over my husband for what I thought best.
“We should go to L. A.,” Liz said, raising her tear-stained face up from Max’s neck and staring directly into his eyes.
“Wh...what?”
“I know you and Cal parted on bad terms, Max, but I think L. A. would be good, for all of us. If Cal can answer our questions and help us,” Liz paused, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth and chewing on it delicately. “It’s the best idea for us right now.”
“So you think we should go to L. A. and find Langley,” Max asked, his forehead resting against Liz’s and his lips dangerously close to hers. Liz nodded and both of their heads bobbed up and down. “Then we’ll go to L. A.,” Max offered quietly just before he pressed his lips to Liz’s and they sunk onto the bed.
Linger *COMPLETE* (CC,M/L,MATURE) 2/7/05
Moderators: Anniepoo98, Rowedog, ISLANDGIRL5, Itzstacie, truelovepooh, FSU/MSW-94, Forum Moderators
Part 15
Part 15
ROSWELL
“You know you’re going to be bored to death out there, Jim.”
“That may be true, Owen, but at least I’ll be bored with a regular paycheck.”
Sarina held her breath as the two men laughed. She felt the Ford Explorer shake in response to movement against it, and she assumed the Explorer’s owner would be driving off to his assignment within moments. Then, she hoped she could convince him to help her, without alerting him to her true profession.
“Well, you be careful out there, Jim. It’s been real good having you back.”
“I’ll see you, Owen,” Jim replied, opening the driver’s door of the Explorer. Owen smiled and waved to his old friend. Jim smiled in return and slammed the door shut, turning the key in the ignition as he began to buckle his seat belt.
“Wait, Jim,” Owen called, his face suddenly worried as he stepped to the driver’s side window.
“What’s wrong,” Jim questioned, rolling down the window and turning down the volume on his radio. “Owen?”
A playful grin magically appeared on Owen’s face as he leaned against the door. “You want me to call and wake you up in a couple of hours?”
“God,” Jim muttered, rolling his eyes as he checked his mirrors and slowly backed out of the parking lot. He could still hear Owen’s deep laughter while he drove west out of town.
* * *
Jim lazily scratched his chin and sighed, raising his shirt cuff several inches so he could see his watch face. 3:00. Almost four more hours remained on his shift, and he had completed all of the tasks on his list within two hours of being stationed at his post off Murray Lane. He had called Amy to finalize plans for their date later that evening, written two new songs he planned to introduce to the rest of the band at their Saturday night rehearsal, and finished two weeks worth of TV Guide crossword puzzles. And now, just as Owen had predicted, he was bored.
He knew he could fall asleep; everyone in town knew about the speed trap. Jim tried to recall the last person who’d be arrested there, and had to chuckle to himself when he remembered it had been Kyle, almost three years ago, just after his sixteenth birthday. Smiling to himself, he closed
his eyes against the bright New Mexico sunlight and allowed his mind to sift through all his memories of Kyle. As the pleasant movie reel of his lifetime with his son played within his mind, the last thing Jim expected to feel was the cold barrel of a gun placing pressure on his temple.
“I...I don’t want to hurt you. I just need your help.”
“Okay,” Jim said calmly, his posture straightening slowly. “I...I’m just going to put my hands on the steering wheel, okay. Please don’t shoot.”
“Okay.”
Swallowing hard, Jim raised his hands from his lap, his fingers open and palms flexed, and slowly placed them on the steering wheel of the Explorer. “Okay. Now, let’s talk about this. What’s your name?”
“I...I’m going to ask the questions here, okay,” the woman said, her voice trembling.
“That’s fine,” Jim responded, trying to will his voice to be calm and soothing. “We can play this out however you want it to go.”
“Okay,” Sarina breathed, and Jim felt her loosen her grip of the gun although she didn’t lower it from his head. He began to breathe easier when he heard her exhale slowly. She inhaled sharply, as if she were going to ask him another question, when Owen’s voice boomed across the radio. “Turn that down,” Sarina commanded, the gun promptly found its resting place against Jim’s temple once again. “Turn down the radio.”
“Okay. I’ve got to lean forward, okay?”
Sarina lowered the gun completely from Jim’s head, allowing Jim to slowly lean toward the floorboard of the Explorer and turn off his police radio. On his way back against the seat, Jim turned his head slightly to get a good look at his captor. He was surprised to find an attractive dark-haired woman, eerily reminiscent of Liz Parker. Then he remembered where he had seen her. She was the woman from the cafe earlier that morning. She was the FBI agent.
“I saw you this morning,” Jim said, turning partially in his seat so he could face her. When the agent met his gaze, he recognized terror imbedded deep in her eyes. “At the Crashdown Cafe.”
“You were talking to Mr. Parker,” Sarina added, dropping her head to the gun in her lap.
“That’s right,” Jim said with a nod. “Jeff and I are friends.”
“Then you know his daughter Liz?” Sarina raised her head and caught Jim’s startled facial expression. “You do know her then, and her friends?”
“You’re an FBI agent,” Jim said sharply, turning his head away from her as a million thoughts rushed through his brain, all regarding the safety of Kyle, Liz and the others.
“I am,” Sarina confessed, leaning toward the front seat. “But I’m working on my own. I met up with Liz Parker in Las Vegas and -”
“How long ago?”
“What,” Sarina asked, the deputy suddenly invading her personal space. She backed away slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “I...this was a mistake. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” Sarina ducked toward the door, her hand dangerously close to the handle.
“No,” Jim said, grabbing the arm closest to him. Sarina’s face bore the shock of such a violation, particularly when it was she who held the gun and had just held this deputy at gun point. “I...I’m sorry,” Jim said meekly, releasing Sarina’s arm. “I’m Jim Valenti, and my son is one of Liz’s friends.”
“Could I talk to him? Maybe he’d know where to find her.”
“Kyle is with Liz,” Jim answered, turning his head away from Sarina as his voice cracked a bit. He quickly recovered and cleared his throat for good measure, but he was unable to control his trembling hand.
“Your son is on the run with Liz Parker? Then you have to help me, Deputy Valenti,” Sarina pleaded. “My name is Agent Sarina Zachary. I accidentally touched Liz Parker in a Las Vegas casino and I was picked up by several rogue agents that questioned me about Liz and her friends. They let me go, but that’s when I learned my friend Jesse Ramirez was involved too.”
“Jesse?”
“You know him,” Sarina questioned, her hand accidentally brushing against Jim’s shoulder. “I...we were in the academy together. I’m trying to find him to warn him these agents are looking for him.”
“You won’t find Jesse here,” Jim replied, adjusting his hat so he could scratch his forehead. “He moved to Boston almost a month ago.”
“Oh God,” Sarina said, allowing her body to flop backwards against the backseat. “I’m too late.”
“They didn’t want Jesse,” Jim offered after a momentary pause. “They’re looking for aliens.”
“That’s crazy,” Sarina said, unable to suppress her laugh. “Aliens don’t exist.”
“I can assure you they do exist, Agent Zachary. One of them saved my life, and the life of my son.”
ROSWELL
“You know you’re going to be bored to death out there, Jim.”
“That may be true, Owen, but at least I’ll be bored with a regular paycheck.”
Sarina held her breath as the two men laughed. She felt the Ford Explorer shake in response to movement against it, and she assumed the Explorer’s owner would be driving off to his assignment within moments. Then, she hoped she could convince him to help her, without alerting him to her true profession.
“Well, you be careful out there, Jim. It’s been real good having you back.”
“I’ll see you, Owen,” Jim replied, opening the driver’s door of the Explorer. Owen smiled and waved to his old friend. Jim smiled in return and slammed the door shut, turning the key in the ignition as he began to buckle his seat belt.
“Wait, Jim,” Owen called, his face suddenly worried as he stepped to the driver’s side window.
“What’s wrong,” Jim questioned, rolling down the window and turning down the volume on his radio. “Owen?”
A playful grin magically appeared on Owen’s face as he leaned against the door. “You want me to call and wake you up in a couple of hours?”
“God,” Jim muttered, rolling his eyes as he checked his mirrors and slowly backed out of the parking lot. He could still hear Owen’s deep laughter while he drove west out of town.
* * *
Jim lazily scratched his chin and sighed, raising his shirt cuff several inches so he could see his watch face. 3:00. Almost four more hours remained on his shift, and he had completed all of the tasks on his list within two hours of being stationed at his post off Murray Lane. He had called Amy to finalize plans for their date later that evening, written two new songs he planned to introduce to the rest of the band at their Saturday night rehearsal, and finished two weeks worth of TV Guide crossword puzzles. And now, just as Owen had predicted, he was bored.
He knew he could fall asleep; everyone in town knew about the speed trap. Jim tried to recall the last person who’d be arrested there, and had to chuckle to himself when he remembered it had been Kyle, almost three years ago, just after his sixteenth birthday. Smiling to himself, he closed
his eyes against the bright New Mexico sunlight and allowed his mind to sift through all his memories of Kyle. As the pleasant movie reel of his lifetime with his son played within his mind, the last thing Jim expected to feel was the cold barrel of a gun placing pressure on his temple.
“I...I don’t want to hurt you. I just need your help.”
“Okay,” Jim said calmly, his posture straightening slowly. “I...I’m just going to put my hands on the steering wheel, okay. Please don’t shoot.”
“Okay.”
Swallowing hard, Jim raised his hands from his lap, his fingers open and palms flexed, and slowly placed them on the steering wheel of the Explorer. “Okay. Now, let’s talk about this. What’s your name?”
“I...I’m going to ask the questions here, okay,” the woman said, her voice trembling.
“That’s fine,” Jim responded, trying to will his voice to be calm and soothing. “We can play this out however you want it to go.”
“Okay,” Sarina breathed, and Jim felt her loosen her grip of the gun although she didn’t lower it from his head. He began to breathe easier when he heard her exhale slowly. She inhaled sharply, as if she were going to ask him another question, when Owen’s voice boomed across the radio. “Turn that down,” Sarina commanded, the gun promptly found its resting place against Jim’s temple once again. “Turn down the radio.”
“Okay. I’ve got to lean forward, okay?”
Sarina lowered the gun completely from Jim’s head, allowing Jim to slowly lean toward the floorboard of the Explorer and turn off his police radio. On his way back against the seat, Jim turned his head slightly to get a good look at his captor. He was surprised to find an attractive dark-haired woman, eerily reminiscent of Liz Parker. Then he remembered where he had seen her. She was the woman from the cafe earlier that morning. She was the FBI agent.
“I saw you this morning,” Jim said, turning partially in his seat so he could face her. When the agent met his gaze, he recognized terror imbedded deep in her eyes. “At the Crashdown Cafe.”
“You were talking to Mr. Parker,” Sarina added, dropping her head to the gun in her lap.
“That’s right,” Jim said with a nod. “Jeff and I are friends.”
“Then you know his daughter Liz?” Sarina raised her head and caught Jim’s startled facial expression. “You do know her then, and her friends?”
“You’re an FBI agent,” Jim said sharply, turning his head away from her as a million thoughts rushed through his brain, all regarding the safety of Kyle, Liz and the others.
“I am,” Sarina confessed, leaning toward the front seat. “But I’m working on my own. I met up with Liz Parker in Las Vegas and -”
“How long ago?”
“What,” Sarina asked, the deputy suddenly invading her personal space. She backed away slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “I...this was a mistake. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” Sarina ducked toward the door, her hand dangerously close to the handle.
“No,” Jim said, grabbing the arm closest to him. Sarina’s face bore the shock of such a violation, particularly when it was she who held the gun and had just held this deputy at gun point. “I...I’m sorry,” Jim said meekly, releasing Sarina’s arm. “I’m Jim Valenti, and my son is one of Liz’s friends.”
“Could I talk to him? Maybe he’d know where to find her.”
“Kyle is with Liz,” Jim answered, turning his head away from Sarina as his voice cracked a bit. He quickly recovered and cleared his throat for good measure, but he was unable to control his trembling hand.
“Your son is on the run with Liz Parker? Then you have to help me, Deputy Valenti,” Sarina pleaded. “My name is Agent Sarina Zachary. I accidentally touched Liz Parker in a Las Vegas casino and I was picked up by several rogue agents that questioned me about Liz and her friends. They let me go, but that’s when I learned my friend Jesse Ramirez was involved too.”
“Jesse?”
“You know him,” Sarina questioned, her hand accidentally brushing against Jim’s shoulder. “I...we were in the academy together. I’m trying to find him to warn him these agents are looking for him.”
“You won’t find Jesse here,” Jim replied, adjusting his hat so he could scratch his forehead. “He moved to Boston almost a month ago.”
“Oh God,” Sarina said, allowing her body to flop backwards against the backseat. “I’m too late.”
“They didn’t want Jesse,” Jim offered after a momentary pause. “They’re looking for aliens.”
“That’s crazy,” Sarina said, unable to suppress her laugh. “Aliens don’t exist.”
“I can assure you they do exist, Agent Zachary. One of them saved my life, and the life of my son.”
Part 16
Part 16
ROSWELL
“I...I’m sorry, Deputy Valenti,” Sarina responded quietly as she reclined against the back seat of the Explorer. “I...I don’t believe in aliens. Whatever these kids did, the FBI isn’t after them because they’re aliens. The FBI has better things to do than scout out alien sightings.”
“Have you ever heard of a branch of the FBI called the Special Unit,” Jim questioned, leaning toward Sarina, his voice calm and low. Sarina’s eyes widened at the mention of the Special Unit but she tried to cover her surprise by avoiding Jim’s face. Jim, however, had seen the recognition flash momentarily in her eyes and leaned closer to the young woman. “Let me fill you in on some things about the FBI. I...I never believed in aliens or spaceships. My dad used to be the sheriff in Roswell and he believed the government covered up the existence of aliens, especially after the ‘47 crash. He reported activities to the FBI so often, the agents called him Sergeant Martian.”
“I’m sorry the FBI ridiculed your father, Deputy, but I fail to see how his reports could have been taken seriously. The FBI has many, many things to worry about, and I can’t imagine the government wasting their time on what the Roswell sheriff had to say.”
“Well, you’ll have to forgive me, Agent Zachary, but you’re very naive if you believe the FBI doesn’t have their hands in several cookie jars.” Jim paused and ran his hands down the length of his face. “What about the explosion at Rodgers Air Force Base? Weren’t you placed on alert or called in to see your supervisor?” Jim stared pointedly at Sarina, her eyes again wildly avoiding his. “I’m assuming from your silence that you were. Not everything that happens in FBI land is fully documented.” Jim turned forward in his seat, his fingers absently drumming on the steering wheel.
“You...you’re telling me that aliens really crashed here in 1947,” Sarina questioned in a low voice, leaning toward Jim. “And that these teenagers running around the West Coast are... aliens?” Jim glanced over his shoulder at Sarina but did not answer her question. “Do you have any idea how...crazy that is?”
“I didn’t believe it either, Agent Zachary,” Jim replied with a shrug, his hand unconsciously tightening around the steering wheel. “I can only tell you what I know -”
“Then tell me,” Sarina begged, grabbing Jim’s arm with both of her hands, causing Jim to jerk his head at her abrupt motions. “Tell me everything. I can help you.”
Jim opened his mouth to respond when blue lights and the squeal of a siren interrupted him. “Get down,” he cautioned and turned his attention to the front of his vehicle where Owen stood with an oversized grin on his face. “Owen,” Jim laughed, stepping from the car door. He left the door open and casually sauntered toward Owen’s tall frame, his mind awhirl with thoughts of how he could keep Owen from stepping toward the Explorer. “Man, I told you not to come wake me up.”
“I know, Jim,” Owen countered, slapping Jim playfully on the shoulder. “But Hanson wanted to talk to you and you turned off your radio. Don’t blame you though,” Owen continued, watching Jim’s features cloud and a strange expression materialize on his friend’s face. “I don’t like talking to Hanson either.”
“Right,” Jim replied half-heartedly, running his hand in between the buttons on his shirt to scratch the left side of his chest.
“Jim? You okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Jim said, shrugging off Owen’s concern with a wave of his hand. “It’s just indigestion. Maybe I should stay away from the Crashdown’s specials and just stick to the food I know.” He chuckled slightly then winced. “On second thought -”
“Go back into town,” Owen suggested. “I’ll finish up out here. I could use the time away from the office. Besides,” Owen paused. “Hanson, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jim walked back to the Explorer and rested his left arm against the door. “Okay. Thanks, Owen. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, Jim,” Owen called as Jim climbed into the Explorer and carefully drove away from his post and toward the police station.
Once Owen was out of sight, Jim reached behind him and poked Sarina, signaling her she could sit up. “Coast is clear,” Jim grunted and Sarina leaned forward, her eyes widening in concern for the man who had protected her from discovery. His skin was pale and sweaty, and he was favoring the left side of his body.
“You’re having a heart attack,” Sarina exclaimed. Jim turned toward her and nodded then returned his eyes to the road. “You...you need to let me drive,” Sarina argued and began climbing up into the front seat of the Explorer.
“No,” Jim interjected and Sarina watched as he struggled to turn the steering wheel left. She glanced ahead of her and sighed inwardly that he was driving himself to the hospital. Jim pulled the Explorer into the parking lot and shut off the engine, leaning back against the seat while he tried to catch his breath. He pulled a small notepad from his shirt pocket and scribbled furiously on it before folding the paper and handing it to Sarina. “Give that to Jeff Parker. Then stay out of sight. I’ll find you.”
“You can’t find me if you’re dead,” Sarina said as she exited the vehicle and opened Jim’s door. He all but fell out of the car onto her and Sarina wrapped his left arm over her shoulders, almost dragging him to the emergency room entrance. “Please don’t die,” Sarina pleaded as they stepped into the emergency room, the automatic doors opening with a swoosh. “I...I need your help.”
“Not as much as I need yours,” Jim whispered, resting his face against Sarina’s shoulder, his breath hitting her neck in unsteady streams.
She felt his body go limp and she steadied herself quickly to keep them both from falling to the ground. “Help me,” she cried as she stepped through the second sliding glass door. “Someone help me. This man’s having a heart attack.”
Several nurses ran to her, removing Jim’s limp body from her side and guiding her to the reception desk. Sarina watched as three nurses and a doctor ran away from the admit area, wheeling Jim through a set of gray double doors as the doctor shouted orders to his left and right. “Do you know him,” a red-haired nurse asked Sarina, gently shaking her arm. Sarina blinked rapidly and surveyed her surroundings. “Do you know him? What’s his name?”
“I...I don’t know him,” Sarina whispered, backing away from the nurse. “I...I’m sorry.” She turned on her heels and ran out of the emergency room, clutching in her hand the note she had to deliver to Jeff Parker at the Crashdown Cafe.
ROSWELL
“I...I’m sorry, Deputy Valenti,” Sarina responded quietly as she reclined against the back seat of the Explorer. “I...I don’t believe in aliens. Whatever these kids did, the FBI isn’t after them because they’re aliens. The FBI has better things to do than scout out alien sightings.”
“Have you ever heard of a branch of the FBI called the Special Unit,” Jim questioned, leaning toward Sarina, his voice calm and low. Sarina’s eyes widened at the mention of the Special Unit but she tried to cover her surprise by avoiding Jim’s face. Jim, however, had seen the recognition flash momentarily in her eyes and leaned closer to the young woman. “Let me fill you in on some things about the FBI. I...I never believed in aliens or spaceships. My dad used to be the sheriff in Roswell and he believed the government covered up the existence of aliens, especially after the ‘47 crash. He reported activities to the FBI so often, the agents called him Sergeant Martian.”
“I’m sorry the FBI ridiculed your father, Deputy, but I fail to see how his reports could have been taken seriously. The FBI has many, many things to worry about, and I can’t imagine the government wasting their time on what the Roswell sheriff had to say.”
“Well, you’ll have to forgive me, Agent Zachary, but you’re very naive if you believe the FBI doesn’t have their hands in several cookie jars.” Jim paused and ran his hands down the length of his face. “What about the explosion at Rodgers Air Force Base? Weren’t you placed on alert or called in to see your supervisor?” Jim stared pointedly at Sarina, her eyes again wildly avoiding his. “I’m assuming from your silence that you were. Not everything that happens in FBI land is fully documented.” Jim turned forward in his seat, his fingers absently drumming on the steering wheel.
“You...you’re telling me that aliens really crashed here in 1947,” Sarina questioned in a low voice, leaning toward Jim. “And that these teenagers running around the West Coast are... aliens?” Jim glanced over his shoulder at Sarina but did not answer her question. “Do you have any idea how...crazy that is?”
“I didn’t believe it either, Agent Zachary,” Jim replied with a shrug, his hand unconsciously tightening around the steering wheel. “I can only tell you what I know -”
“Then tell me,” Sarina begged, grabbing Jim’s arm with both of her hands, causing Jim to jerk his head at her abrupt motions. “Tell me everything. I can help you.”
Jim opened his mouth to respond when blue lights and the squeal of a siren interrupted him. “Get down,” he cautioned and turned his attention to the front of his vehicle where Owen stood with an oversized grin on his face. “Owen,” Jim laughed, stepping from the car door. He left the door open and casually sauntered toward Owen’s tall frame, his mind awhirl with thoughts of how he could keep Owen from stepping toward the Explorer. “Man, I told you not to come wake me up.”
“I know, Jim,” Owen countered, slapping Jim playfully on the shoulder. “But Hanson wanted to talk to you and you turned off your radio. Don’t blame you though,” Owen continued, watching Jim’s features cloud and a strange expression materialize on his friend’s face. “I don’t like talking to Hanson either.”
“Right,” Jim replied half-heartedly, running his hand in between the buttons on his shirt to scratch the left side of his chest.
“Jim? You okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Jim said, shrugging off Owen’s concern with a wave of his hand. “It’s just indigestion. Maybe I should stay away from the Crashdown’s specials and just stick to the food I know.” He chuckled slightly then winced. “On second thought -”
“Go back into town,” Owen suggested. “I’ll finish up out here. I could use the time away from the office. Besides,” Owen paused. “Hanson, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jim walked back to the Explorer and rested his left arm against the door. “Okay. Thanks, Owen. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, Jim,” Owen called as Jim climbed into the Explorer and carefully drove away from his post and toward the police station.
Once Owen was out of sight, Jim reached behind him and poked Sarina, signaling her she could sit up. “Coast is clear,” Jim grunted and Sarina leaned forward, her eyes widening in concern for the man who had protected her from discovery. His skin was pale and sweaty, and he was favoring the left side of his body.
“You’re having a heart attack,” Sarina exclaimed. Jim turned toward her and nodded then returned his eyes to the road. “You...you need to let me drive,” Sarina argued and began climbing up into the front seat of the Explorer.
“No,” Jim interjected and Sarina watched as he struggled to turn the steering wheel left. She glanced ahead of her and sighed inwardly that he was driving himself to the hospital. Jim pulled the Explorer into the parking lot and shut off the engine, leaning back against the seat while he tried to catch his breath. He pulled a small notepad from his shirt pocket and scribbled furiously on it before folding the paper and handing it to Sarina. “Give that to Jeff Parker. Then stay out of sight. I’ll find you.”
“You can’t find me if you’re dead,” Sarina said as she exited the vehicle and opened Jim’s door. He all but fell out of the car onto her and Sarina wrapped his left arm over her shoulders, almost dragging him to the emergency room entrance. “Please don’t die,” Sarina pleaded as they stepped into the emergency room, the automatic doors opening with a swoosh. “I...I need your help.”
“Not as much as I need yours,” Jim whispered, resting his face against Sarina’s shoulder, his breath hitting her neck in unsteady streams.
She felt his body go limp and she steadied herself quickly to keep them both from falling to the ground. “Help me,” she cried as she stepped through the second sliding glass door. “Someone help me. This man’s having a heart attack.”
Several nurses ran to her, removing Jim’s limp body from her side and guiding her to the reception desk. Sarina watched as three nurses and a doctor ran away from the admit area, wheeling Jim through a set of gray double doors as the doctor shouted orders to his left and right. “Do you know him,” a red-haired nurse asked Sarina, gently shaking her arm. Sarina blinked rapidly and surveyed her surroundings. “Do you know him? What’s his name?”
“I...I don’t know him,” Sarina whispered, backing away from the nurse. “I...I’m sorry.” She turned on her heels and ran out of the emergency room, clutching in her hand the note she had to deliver to Jeff Parker at the Crashdown Cafe.
Part 17
Part 17
June 19, 2002
We started the morning off unusually early, meeting in our room once again. Max had tossed and turned all night and his ragged face bore the typical signs of a sleepless night. As I watched my husband pace back and forth in front of our bed, I couldn’t help wonder if I’d added more stress to Max’s already fragile frame of mind.
“Are you sure you want to do this,” Liz asked, knowing she had precious seconds before the others would be in their bedroom. “We don’t have to find Langley. We can make it on our own. We’ve done fine so far.”
Max smiled gratefully at her, placing his palms on the curve of her shoulders. “It’s a good idea, Liz. Whatever problems Langley and I had are over. I’m not the same man now that I was when I found him.”
“But finding him changed both your lives. I know how much you were hurting when you came back to Roswell, Max, and I know how things ended in L. A. He may not help us.”
“You’re right,” Max offered, placing a chaste kiss on Liz’s forehead and pulling her body into an embrace. “But that’s something we’ll deal with when and if it happens.” He pushed Liz out of his arms and smiled at her, prompting Liz to smile back at him. “As long as we’re together, right?”
“Absolutely,” Liz replied softly, wrapping her arms around Max’s neck and tilting her lips upward to seek out his. They were locked in the passionate embrace when Michael, Maria, Isabel and Kyle stepped into their room, groaning to themselves their displeasure about the hour of the called
meeting.
“What’s up, Maxwell,” Michael questioned as the room’s newest visitors settled themselves in the available seating. Max and Liz broke their embrace, but Max held firmly onto Liz’s hand as they turned their attention to their friends and traveling companions. “It’s the butt crack of dawn.”
Max glanced sheepishly at Liz, his grip on her hand tightening as he sought out her eyes. Liz smiled warmly, placing her free hand on Max’s arm, and nodded her consent to Max’s silent question. His jaw twitched and Max turned toward his four half-asleep companions, a new determination on his face. “We’re going to L. A.,” he announced, returning his gaze to Liz, who rested her head on Max’s shoulder and wrapped her free arm around him.
* * *
Max drove us into L. A. after he, Michael and Isabel made some color modifications to the van. We’d been driving it as is since we left Roswell and it was sad to watch the license plate change from New Mexico to California. Max removed the bumper sticker and gave it to me. It’s almost like that by changing the van and removing the bumper sticker it’s finally hitting me that Roswell isn’t safe for us anymore. Roswell will never be safe for us. We’ll never be able to raise our children in the neighborhoods of our youth. I’m glad I’m with Max, but I miss my parents. I miss my room. I miss the security and comfort the little things gave me, but mostly, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in this van, no matter how many times its color changes. I want to be able to settle down in one place, to not have to worry about looking over my shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, L. A. will be a city where we can get lost and be normal, even for a little while.
* * *
We spent the night in the van, something we hadn’t done in a very long time thanks to our Vegas winnings. It reminded me of our first night together in the van and as the shallow snores of my companions echoed through its interior, I raised my head heavenward and stared at the stars for as long as I could. I’d give anything to be on my balcony right now, to have my telescope and star maps accessible, but as the stars lit my final moments of consciousness, I couldn’t help but smile, despite the sadness growing in my heart. I’m different, alien mutations notwithstanding.
I’m not the same naive girl I was when I began this journey three years ago. Everything around me has changed, and, in the process, I’ve changed too. I’ve been forced to amend the life plan I’ve had for the better part of my existence. I’ve been forced to abandon my home and live the life of a vagabond. But as I look at Max, his hair in desperate need of a trim, soft curls at the nape of his neck, his lips parted in sleep, I know I don’t have any regrets. I know that my place is with him; that my world would feel completely empty if not for him and that my life would have ended three years ago if not for him. So I followed my heart (just like Max followed his that fateful September day), and it lead me on an incredible journey of heartbreak, loss, devastation and betrayal, but my journey’s not over. As a matter of fact, I guess I could say my journey’s just about to begin. For the past three years, I’ve lived my life in a human world and while I’m still human, tomorrow I’ll begin a new chapter of my life when I finally get to meet Cal Langley. And I realize that it’s okay for me to be scared and nervous and anxious about the possibilities and implications of this meeting. I’m still human; somehwere inside I’m still Liz Parker, just different.
June 19, 2002
We started the morning off unusually early, meeting in our room once again. Max had tossed and turned all night and his ragged face bore the typical signs of a sleepless night. As I watched my husband pace back and forth in front of our bed, I couldn’t help wonder if I’d added more stress to Max’s already fragile frame of mind.
“Are you sure you want to do this,” Liz asked, knowing she had precious seconds before the others would be in their bedroom. “We don’t have to find Langley. We can make it on our own. We’ve done fine so far.”
Max smiled gratefully at her, placing his palms on the curve of her shoulders. “It’s a good idea, Liz. Whatever problems Langley and I had are over. I’m not the same man now that I was when I found him.”
“But finding him changed both your lives. I know how much you were hurting when you came back to Roswell, Max, and I know how things ended in L. A. He may not help us.”
“You’re right,” Max offered, placing a chaste kiss on Liz’s forehead and pulling her body into an embrace. “But that’s something we’ll deal with when and if it happens.” He pushed Liz out of his arms and smiled at her, prompting Liz to smile back at him. “As long as we’re together, right?”
“Absolutely,” Liz replied softly, wrapping her arms around Max’s neck and tilting her lips upward to seek out his. They were locked in the passionate embrace when Michael, Maria, Isabel and Kyle stepped into their room, groaning to themselves their displeasure about the hour of the called
meeting.
“What’s up, Maxwell,” Michael questioned as the room’s newest visitors settled themselves in the available seating. Max and Liz broke their embrace, but Max held firmly onto Liz’s hand as they turned their attention to their friends and traveling companions. “It’s the butt crack of dawn.”
Max glanced sheepishly at Liz, his grip on her hand tightening as he sought out her eyes. Liz smiled warmly, placing her free hand on Max’s arm, and nodded her consent to Max’s silent question. His jaw twitched and Max turned toward his four half-asleep companions, a new determination on his face. “We’re going to L. A.,” he announced, returning his gaze to Liz, who rested her head on Max’s shoulder and wrapped her free arm around him.
* * *
Max drove us into L. A. after he, Michael and Isabel made some color modifications to the van. We’d been driving it as is since we left Roswell and it was sad to watch the license plate change from New Mexico to California. Max removed the bumper sticker and gave it to me. It’s almost like that by changing the van and removing the bumper sticker it’s finally hitting me that Roswell isn’t safe for us anymore. Roswell will never be safe for us. We’ll never be able to raise our children in the neighborhoods of our youth. I’m glad I’m with Max, but I miss my parents. I miss my room. I miss the security and comfort the little things gave me, but mostly, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in this van, no matter how many times its color changes. I want to be able to settle down in one place, to not have to worry about looking over my shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, L. A. will be a city where we can get lost and be normal, even for a little while.
* * *
We spent the night in the van, something we hadn’t done in a very long time thanks to our Vegas winnings. It reminded me of our first night together in the van and as the shallow snores of my companions echoed through its interior, I raised my head heavenward and stared at the stars for as long as I could. I’d give anything to be on my balcony right now, to have my telescope and star maps accessible, but as the stars lit my final moments of consciousness, I couldn’t help but smile, despite the sadness growing in my heart. I’m different, alien mutations notwithstanding.
I’m not the same naive girl I was when I began this journey three years ago. Everything around me has changed, and, in the process, I’ve changed too. I’ve been forced to amend the life plan I’ve had for the better part of my existence. I’ve been forced to abandon my home and live the life of a vagabond. But as I look at Max, his hair in desperate need of a trim, soft curls at the nape of his neck, his lips parted in sleep, I know I don’t have any regrets. I know that my place is with him; that my world would feel completely empty if not for him and that my life would have ended three years ago if not for him. So I followed my heart (just like Max followed his that fateful September day), and it lead me on an incredible journey of heartbreak, loss, devastation and betrayal, but my journey’s not over. As a matter of fact, I guess I could say my journey’s just about to begin. For the past three years, I’ve lived my life in a human world and while I’m still human, tomorrow I’ll begin a new chapter of my life when I finally get to meet Cal Langley. And I realize that it’s okay for me to be scared and nervous and anxious about the possibilities and implications of this meeting. I’m still human; somehwere inside I’m still Liz Parker, just different.
Part 18
Part 18
June 20, 2002
I’d received enough impressions from Max over the months since his return from L. A. to get the general idea of what happened between he and Cal but as the moment when I finally meet him nears, I just can’t squash this feeling of dread building in my heart. Maybe I just know that my life will never be the same after I meet him. Maybe I am just picking up on some of Max’s buried fears. Whatever this feeling is, it’s unknown and I’m becoming very afraid of the unknown.
“This is the plan,” Kyle questioned as the six of them sat in the driveway in front of the mansion on Mulholland Drive. “To just walk right up there and knock on the door and invite ourselves in?” He glanced at the five other occupants of the newly camouflaged van. His lingering question was met by a wall of silence. “That’s not a very good plan.” He crossed his arms over his chest and threw himself backwards against the seat, his eyes immediately glued to the floor.
“It’s not the best plan, no,” Liz argued. “But right now, it’s all we that have. We don’t even know if Cal will see us but by presenting a united front, we stand a better chance.”
“I’m just suggesting an alternate plan of attack,” Kyle continued, leaning onto the neck rest of the seat in front of him. “If you’re not sure this plan will work, why not scout out the property for a day or two? This guy’s a big shot Hollywood producer. He’s bound to have a party sooner or
later.”
Max glanced out of the corner of his eye at Liz and he knew her mind was feverishly working through a rebuttal to Kyle’s proposal. He knew Liz; he knew she wanted to defend him, his ideas, his beliefs, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her warring heart and mind - one willing to go with Max’s plan simply because it was Max’s plan and she loved him, and the other trying to convince her that Kyle’s idea was just as valid, if not more so, than Max’s. “Kyle’s right,” he admitted quietly and he felt the weight of Liz’s stare on the side of his face, burning a hole into his flesh. “We don’t know if Cal will see us and I’d rather talk to him when I know he can’t toss us out.” He reached toward Liz and comfortably captured her knee with his palm, squeezing slightly.
“So we wait for a party,” Liz asked, inching her hand slowly to where Max’s rested on her leg. “Can we really afford to wait, Max?”
“We’ll just have to wait it out,” Max replied softly with a shrug, his facial expression suddenly darkened.
“If we’re going to a party,” Maria began, resting her head on Michael’s shoulder. “We’re gonna need party clothes.”
* * *
We left our stake-out position in Cal’s driveway as easily as we had entered it and headed into West Hollywood for some party clothes. None of us had any idea when Cal’s next party would be or if he would have one any time soon. At this point, we were playing the waiting game in unfamiliar territory with a man whose spite for Max was well-known. But I had to have some answers. And if waiting helped me achieve the answers I so desperately needed, then I’d wait.
June 23, 2002
Michael noticed the catering vans before anyone. Kyle, Maria and Isabel had been dropped off at Rodeo Drive; Kyle with for the added protection of protecting Maria and Isabel from their shopping addiction. I was frankly glad to have a moment to myself. We’d been taking turns driving by Cal’s house, searching for signs that there might be a party. Other than that, we’ve just been driving around L. A., taking in the sights. I’ve already used one disposable camera, simply by snapping pictures as we drove.
Michael stopped the van at the bottom of the driveway and approached the caterers, just like we’d all agreed. If they couldn’t be convince to give out information about the party, I was supposed to join Michael and charm them. If that didn’t work, Michael had said he’d just give them a nasty rash and we’d be on our way. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to either situation - Michael can be persuasive when he wants to be.
“8:00 tonight,” Michael replied, hopping into the van. His chest was heaving and he seemed out of breath as he started the van and drove toward Beverly Hills. “Seems like Langley’s company bought the rights to some book and he’s invited a hundred people or so over to celebrate.”
“That’s all they told you,” Max asked, leaning forward into the space provided by the bucket seats. He glanced sheepishly at Liz but quickly returned his gaze to Michael, who was staring straight ahead.
“The guy said that he thought they would be doing some kind of casting call tonight too. Said that if I was looking for a date, I should come to the party dressed in my finest.”
“They’re doing casting for a movie? At a party?”
“I don’t know,” Michael shrugged. “I’m just telling you what the guy told me.” He paused, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’re sure you want to do this, Liz? Going into Langley’s house, I mean.”
“It’ll be fine, Michael,” Liz replied, turning to her left to stare at both Max and Michael, who wore almost the same look of concern on their brow. She placed her hand onto Max’s fisted ones, patting them lovingly. “I’ll be fine.”
June 20, 2002
I’d received enough impressions from Max over the months since his return from L. A. to get the general idea of what happened between he and Cal but as the moment when I finally meet him nears, I just can’t squash this feeling of dread building in my heart. Maybe I just know that my life will never be the same after I meet him. Maybe I am just picking up on some of Max’s buried fears. Whatever this feeling is, it’s unknown and I’m becoming very afraid of the unknown.
“This is the plan,” Kyle questioned as the six of them sat in the driveway in front of the mansion on Mulholland Drive. “To just walk right up there and knock on the door and invite ourselves in?” He glanced at the five other occupants of the newly camouflaged van. His lingering question was met by a wall of silence. “That’s not a very good plan.” He crossed his arms over his chest and threw himself backwards against the seat, his eyes immediately glued to the floor.
“It’s not the best plan, no,” Liz argued. “But right now, it’s all we that have. We don’t even know if Cal will see us but by presenting a united front, we stand a better chance.”
“I’m just suggesting an alternate plan of attack,” Kyle continued, leaning onto the neck rest of the seat in front of him. “If you’re not sure this plan will work, why not scout out the property for a day or two? This guy’s a big shot Hollywood producer. He’s bound to have a party sooner or
later.”
Max glanced out of the corner of his eye at Liz and he knew her mind was feverishly working through a rebuttal to Kyle’s proposal. He knew Liz; he knew she wanted to defend him, his ideas, his beliefs, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her warring heart and mind - one willing to go with Max’s plan simply because it was Max’s plan and she loved him, and the other trying to convince her that Kyle’s idea was just as valid, if not more so, than Max’s. “Kyle’s right,” he admitted quietly and he felt the weight of Liz’s stare on the side of his face, burning a hole into his flesh. “We don’t know if Cal will see us and I’d rather talk to him when I know he can’t toss us out.” He reached toward Liz and comfortably captured her knee with his palm, squeezing slightly.
“So we wait for a party,” Liz asked, inching her hand slowly to where Max’s rested on her leg. “Can we really afford to wait, Max?”
“We’ll just have to wait it out,” Max replied softly with a shrug, his facial expression suddenly darkened.
“If we’re going to a party,” Maria began, resting her head on Michael’s shoulder. “We’re gonna need party clothes.”
* * *
We left our stake-out position in Cal’s driveway as easily as we had entered it and headed into West Hollywood for some party clothes. None of us had any idea when Cal’s next party would be or if he would have one any time soon. At this point, we were playing the waiting game in unfamiliar territory with a man whose spite for Max was well-known. But I had to have some answers. And if waiting helped me achieve the answers I so desperately needed, then I’d wait.
June 23, 2002
Michael noticed the catering vans before anyone. Kyle, Maria and Isabel had been dropped off at Rodeo Drive; Kyle with for the added protection of protecting Maria and Isabel from their shopping addiction. I was frankly glad to have a moment to myself. We’d been taking turns driving by Cal’s house, searching for signs that there might be a party. Other than that, we’ve just been driving around L. A., taking in the sights. I’ve already used one disposable camera, simply by snapping pictures as we drove.
Michael stopped the van at the bottom of the driveway and approached the caterers, just like we’d all agreed. If they couldn’t be convince to give out information about the party, I was supposed to join Michael and charm them. If that didn’t work, Michael had said he’d just give them a nasty rash and we’d be on our way. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to either situation - Michael can be persuasive when he wants to be.
“8:00 tonight,” Michael replied, hopping into the van. His chest was heaving and he seemed out of breath as he started the van and drove toward Beverly Hills. “Seems like Langley’s company bought the rights to some book and he’s invited a hundred people or so over to celebrate.”
“That’s all they told you,” Max asked, leaning forward into the space provided by the bucket seats. He glanced sheepishly at Liz but quickly returned his gaze to Michael, who was staring straight ahead.
“The guy said that he thought they would be doing some kind of casting call tonight too. Said that if I was looking for a date, I should come to the party dressed in my finest.”
“They’re doing casting for a movie? At a party?”
“I don’t know,” Michael shrugged. “I’m just telling you what the guy told me.” He paused, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’re sure you want to do this, Liz? Going into Langley’s house, I mean.”
“It’ll be fine, Michael,” Liz replied, turning to her left to stare at both Max and Michael, who wore almost the same look of concern on their brow. She placed her hand onto Max’s fisted ones, patting them lovingly. “I’ll be fine.”
Part 19
Part 19
“You ready for this,” Maria questioned as she made a final check of Liz’s appearance. “You don’t have to go through with it, you know.” They’d chosen a simple black cocktail dress from a consignment store in Burbank. The sales woman had talked non-stop about the dress, particularly after Liz had tried it on. It was a straight black sheath with spaghetti straps and a length that fell just below the knee. The bodice was tight-fitting, and while the rest of the dress was a straight cut, it wasn’t clingy. She, Maria and Isabel all thought it looked like an Audrey Hepburn kind of dress, making Liz look like a definite movie star as she modeled it for them in the dressing room. When she’d turned away from her friends and looked at her own reflection in the mirror, Liz had known it was the dress for her. To complete the ensemble, Maria had bought a pair of black strappy heels for $10 from a vendor they’d passed on their way to meet Max, Michael and Kyle. Isabel had styled Liz’s hair in large curls, pulling pieces of hair toward the crown of Liz’s head, framing Liz’s face with slight tendrils of curls.
“I know, Maria,” Liz quietly responded as Maria stepped back away from her best friend. “Michael and Kyle will be there. I’m not worried.” She paused, running her hands down the front of her dress. “How do I look?” Liz turned slowly in a circle, a playful smile on her lips.
“Oh chica, you’re beautiful. If you don’t get offered a movie role, the Hollywood powers that be are blind. You are gorgeous!”
“Thanks,” Liz replied sheepishly, lowering her head to cover her embarrassment of Maria’s praise. Her cheeks burned and Liz knew her entire face was flushing. “You think I can blend in at the party?”
“No way,” Maria said, looping her arm through Liz’s as she lead her best friend out of the bathroom of the cheap motel they had checked into for solely this purpose. “You’re going to be the center of attention. Put on your best smile because you are going to be oogled by men all night long. Maybe some women too!”
* * *
Liz stood alone at the bar on the fringes of the mass of guests at Cal Langley’s party. She had received a flash from Max when he had kissed her goodbye and she had been scouting the crowd for Langley from the moment she was escorted through the mansion. Finding no success, she had deposited herself at the bar, nursing a water on the rocks. Most of the people at the event were the standard looking Hollywood types. Tall, leggy, buxom blondes; handsome and charming men; fast-talking agents and even faster talking screen writers - it was enough to make her dizzy, despite the fact that she hadn’t spoken to anyone since being served by the bartender.
“And now,” a dark-haired man wearing a dressing robe began on the north side of the pool, causing Liz to swivel on her barstool toward the sound of his voice. “Here’s the man who made this all possible - Cal Langley.”
A round of applause echoed throughout the patio area accompanied by several loud whistles and hoots. Liz frantically searched the crowd for signs of Langley’s bald head but could see very little from her vantage point on the southeast side of the patio. That’s when she realized just how many people were at Langley’s party. There was standing room only; those trying to get close to Langley were packed together like sardines. Straining her neck, she still couldn’t get a clear look at the only man who could help them.
Dropping her purse onto the bar, Liz balanced her black strappy heels on the foot rung of the barstool and straightened her petite body. She craned her neck, keeping her hands on the stool for balance but all she could make out over the throngs of people was Langley’s bald head and part of his face. Her shoulders sagged forward and she carefully climbed down off the stool, turning her attention back to her water.
“Really want to see Langley, eh?” A balding man appeared at her side, leaning onto the bar. Liz glanced at the man, a soft smile on her face, but quickly turned back to her water, rotating the half-empty glass in between her fingertips. “Listen honey, he’s not the only game in town.” The man flashed a card at Liz and held it out to her between his fingertips. The move startled her but she reluctantly accepted the outstretched card. “Julius Walters,” the man continued, extending his hand for Liz to shake. She read it briskly, placing the card on top of her beaded purse and hesitantly shook the man’s hand. “You’ve got potential.” He made Ls with his left and right hand, then, using the Ls, framed Liz’s face from several different angles. “You could be the new Audrey Hepburn.”
“Oh,” Liz replied, feeling the now familiar blush creep onto her cheeks. “I don’t think -”
“No, really. You’re stunning, and now that I see that you’re blushing, that makes you even more beautiful. Not many actors still have that down to earth quality. That’s what the studios want nowadays. They want someone who looks like they’ve been plucked off Main Street, U. S.A. And you, honey, you got the look.”
“Thank you, but,” Liz began but Julius Walters interrupted her once again.
“I see you in a ‘My Fair Lady’ update. I’ll bet you’re just a natural on screen. So youthful, so innocent looking, like you just stepped into the big city straight from the farm.”
“Mr. Walters -”
“Please, honey, call me Jules. Everyone does. Even Cal here, doncha Cal?” Liz froze as she felt an unnatural warmth - an alien warmth - penetrate her left side where Julius Walters had previously stood. Her posture straightened a little and she cautiously turned to her left side, Julius Walters still chatting away about Liz’s future career as the next Audrey Hepburn. Liz wondered if Mr. Walters knew what kind of a man Cal Langley really was. “She’s a real looker, Cal. She’s so green, she blushed when I told her she looked like Audrey Hepburn. She’ll be your next star, won’t she, Cal,” Julius asked, and Liz swallowed slowly as Cal’s deep set eyes looked her up and down.
“Of course she will,” Cal said, and Liz immediately recognized the hatred he couldn’t disguise embedded in his eyes. Cal offered his hand to Liz, his mouth contorting into a full blown sneer now that his back was to Julius. Liz shrank slightly, almost recoiling from the notion of his touch, but as Julius moved back into the conversation, Liz reluctantly placed her hand into Cal’s. The moment their palms fully touched, Liz felt a jolt of electricity surge through her body. Julius continued to chat away but Liz couldn’t concentrate on his words. She could only make out minimal syllables while the rest of the conversation was overshadowed by static. Blinking her eyes several times, she tried to focus on something stationary. She could feel her mind struggling to stay conscious yet she was unable to break away from Cal’s handshake.
After what seemed like an eternity to Liz, Cal released her hand, and her breath sputtered out of her mouth, as if her lungs might burst at any second had she not exhaled. She coughed loudly and grabbed her glass of water with shaky hands. Julius patted her on the back several times as Cal sipped his iced tea. “Honey, you can’t hold your breath every time you meet a celebrity. You’ll pass out quicker than you can say ‘Mulholland Drive,’ won’t she, Cal?” Julius laughed loudly, continuing to pat Liz absently on her back. Liz raised her eyes from her water to Cal, the shapeshifter still standing directly in front of her at the bar. His deep-set eyes were watching her every move and Liz felt fear creep upwards from her stomach. She glanced toward the pool, knowing Michael and Kyle, posing as part of the wait staff, were nearby. For a split second, she thought she saw Michael, his long hair tied at the nape of his neck in a neat ponytail, but she lost him in the crowd. Turning her attention back to Langley, she noticed that he and Julius were deep in conversation about her. “I think she’s perfect,” Julius said, his hand resting on Liz’s bare shoulder.
“So you’re gonna represent her then, Jules,” Cal asked, leaning his elbows against the bar top. “You’re gonna get your cut from this green little thing?” Liz’s eyes widened as Cal leered at her while Julius laughed. Blushing slightly from the scrutiny of Cal’s glare, Liz wondered to herself if Cal knew exactly how true his statement about being green was.
“Only if you’re going to cast her in your movie, Cal. Then, once she’s a household name, I can take full credit for her success and sell the story to every entertainment show in the country. The public eats this stuff up, you know.” Julius laughed again. “What did you say your name was, honey?”
“Liz,” Liz softly replied, meeting Cal’s stare head-on. “Liz Evans.”
“Liz Evans. Liz Evans,” Julius repeated to himself, seemingly lost in thought about the prospect of his new moneymaker. “I like it. Innocent, homey, makes you think of Dale Evans and there’s no one more sweet than Dale Evans. What do you think, Cal? Think she needs a new name? Something common but flashy. Something that says star more than Liz Evans.” Liz inhaled sharply as Cal’s hand wrapped firmly around her wrist, almost making her drop the glass of water she held. Glancing from Julius to Cal, Liz noticed a hint of recognition in Cal’s eyes that hadn’t been there before and she noticeably winced as Cal squeezed her wrist again. “Cal?”
“I think Liz Evans and I need to get more acquainted,” Cal replied through gritted teeth, not taking his eyes off of Liz. Jerking her arm to his side, he pushed past Julius and pulled his captive from the patio into the mansion. Liz’s final impulse before being cut off from the party was to scan the crowd for any sign of Michael or Kyle and hope they were watching her as closely as they’d promised Max they would.
“You ready for this,” Maria questioned as she made a final check of Liz’s appearance. “You don’t have to go through with it, you know.” They’d chosen a simple black cocktail dress from a consignment store in Burbank. The sales woman had talked non-stop about the dress, particularly after Liz had tried it on. It was a straight black sheath with spaghetti straps and a length that fell just below the knee. The bodice was tight-fitting, and while the rest of the dress was a straight cut, it wasn’t clingy. She, Maria and Isabel all thought it looked like an Audrey Hepburn kind of dress, making Liz look like a definite movie star as she modeled it for them in the dressing room. When she’d turned away from her friends and looked at her own reflection in the mirror, Liz had known it was the dress for her. To complete the ensemble, Maria had bought a pair of black strappy heels for $10 from a vendor they’d passed on their way to meet Max, Michael and Kyle. Isabel had styled Liz’s hair in large curls, pulling pieces of hair toward the crown of Liz’s head, framing Liz’s face with slight tendrils of curls.
“I know, Maria,” Liz quietly responded as Maria stepped back away from her best friend. “Michael and Kyle will be there. I’m not worried.” She paused, running her hands down the front of her dress. “How do I look?” Liz turned slowly in a circle, a playful smile on her lips.
“Oh chica, you’re beautiful. If you don’t get offered a movie role, the Hollywood powers that be are blind. You are gorgeous!”
“Thanks,” Liz replied sheepishly, lowering her head to cover her embarrassment of Maria’s praise. Her cheeks burned and Liz knew her entire face was flushing. “You think I can blend in at the party?”
“No way,” Maria said, looping her arm through Liz’s as she lead her best friend out of the bathroom of the cheap motel they had checked into for solely this purpose. “You’re going to be the center of attention. Put on your best smile because you are going to be oogled by men all night long. Maybe some women too!”
* * *
Liz stood alone at the bar on the fringes of the mass of guests at Cal Langley’s party. She had received a flash from Max when he had kissed her goodbye and she had been scouting the crowd for Langley from the moment she was escorted through the mansion. Finding no success, she had deposited herself at the bar, nursing a water on the rocks. Most of the people at the event were the standard looking Hollywood types. Tall, leggy, buxom blondes; handsome and charming men; fast-talking agents and even faster talking screen writers - it was enough to make her dizzy, despite the fact that she hadn’t spoken to anyone since being served by the bartender.
“And now,” a dark-haired man wearing a dressing robe began on the north side of the pool, causing Liz to swivel on her barstool toward the sound of his voice. “Here’s the man who made this all possible - Cal Langley.”
A round of applause echoed throughout the patio area accompanied by several loud whistles and hoots. Liz frantically searched the crowd for signs of Langley’s bald head but could see very little from her vantage point on the southeast side of the patio. That’s when she realized just how many people were at Langley’s party. There was standing room only; those trying to get close to Langley were packed together like sardines. Straining her neck, she still couldn’t get a clear look at the only man who could help them.
Dropping her purse onto the bar, Liz balanced her black strappy heels on the foot rung of the barstool and straightened her petite body. She craned her neck, keeping her hands on the stool for balance but all she could make out over the throngs of people was Langley’s bald head and part of his face. Her shoulders sagged forward and she carefully climbed down off the stool, turning her attention back to her water.
“Really want to see Langley, eh?” A balding man appeared at her side, leaning onto the bar. Liz glanced at the man, a soft smile on her face, but quickly turned back to her water, rotating the half-empty glass in between her fingertips. “Listen honey, he’s not the only game in town.” The man flashed a card at Liz and held it out to her between his fingertips. The move startled her but she reluctantly accepted the outstretched card. “Julius Walters,” the man continued, extending his hand for Liz to shake. She read it briskly, placing the card on top of her beaded purse and hesitantly shook the man’s hand. “You’ve got potential.” He made Ls with his left and right hand, then, using the Ls, framed Liz’s face from several different angles. “You could be the new Audrey Hepburn.”
“Oh,” Liz replied, feeling the now familiar blush creep onto her cheeks. “I don’t think -”
“No, really. You’re stunning, and now that I see that you’re blushing, that makes you even more beautiful. Not many actors still have that down to earth quality. That’s what the studios want nowadays. They want someone who looks like they’ve been plucked off Main Street, U. S.A. And you, honey, you got the look.”
“Thank you, but,” Liz began but Julius Walters interrupted her once again.
“I see you in a ‘My Fair Lady’ update. I’ll bet you’re just a natural on screen. So youthful, so innocent looking, like you just stepped into the big city straight from the farm.”
“Mr. Walters -”
“Please, honey, call me Jules. Everyone does. Even Cal here, doncha Cal?” Liz froze as she felt an unnatural warmth - an alien warmth - penetrate her left side where Julius Walters had previously stood. Her posture straightened a little and she cautiously turned to her left side, Julius Walters still chatting away about Liz’s future career as the next Audrey Hepburn. Liz wondered if Mr. Walters knew what kind of a man Cal Langley really was. “She’s a real looker, Cal. She’s so green, she blushed when I told her she looked like Audrey Hepburn. She’ll be your next star, won’t she, Cal,” Julius asked, and Liz swallowed slowly as Cal’s deep set eyes looked her up and down.
“Of course she will,” Cal said, and Liz immediately recognized the hatred he couldn’t disguise embedded in his eyes. Cal offered his hand to Liz, his mouth contorting into a full blown sneer now that his back was to Julius. Liz shrank slightly, almost recoiling from the notion of his touch, but as Julius moved back into the conversation, Liz reluctantly placed her hand into Cal’s. The moment their palms fully touched, Liz felt a jolt of electricity surge through her body. Julius continued to chat away but Liz couldn’t concentrate on his words. She could only make out minimal syllables while the rest of the conversation was overshadowed by static. Blinking her eyes several times, she tried to focus on something stationary. She could feel her mind struggling to stay conscious yet she was unable to break away from Cal’s handshake.
After what seemed like an eternity to Liz, Cal released her hand, and her breath sputtered out of her mouth, as if her lungs might burst at any second had she not exhaled. She coughed loudly and grabbed her glass of water with shaky hands. Julius patted her on the back several times as Cal sipped his iced tea. “Honey, you can’t hold your breath every time you meet a celebrity. You’ll pass out quicker than you can say ‘Mulholland Drive,’ won’t she, Cal?” Julius laughed loudly, continuing to pat Liz absently on her back. Liz raised her eyes from her water to Cal, the shapeshifter still standing directly in front of her at the bar. His deep-set eyes were watching her every move and Liz felt fear creep upwards from her stomach. She glanced toward the pool, knowing Michael and Kyle, posing as part of the wait staff, were nearby. For a split second, she thought she saw Michael, his long hair tied at the nape of his neck in a neat ponytail, but she lost him in the crowd. Turning her attention back to Langley, she noticed that he and Julius were deep in conversation about her. “I think she’s perfect,” Julius said, his hand resting on Liz’s bare shoulder.
“So you’re gonna represent her then, Jules,” Cal asked, leaning his elbows against the bar top. “You’re gonna get your cut from this green little thing?” Liz’s eyes widened as Cal leered at her while Julius laughed. Blushing slightly from the scrutiny of Cal’s glare, Liz wondered to herself if Cal knew exactly how true his statement about being green was.
“Only if you’re going to cast her in your movie, Cal. Then, once she’s a household name, I can take full credit for her success and sell the story to every entertainment show in the country. The public eats this stuff up, you know.” Julius laughed again. “What did you say your name was, honey?”
“Liz,” Liz softly replied, meeting Cal’s stare head-on. “Liz Evans.”
“Liz Evans. Liz Evans,” Julius repeated to himself, seemingly lost in thought about the prospect of his new moneymaker. “I like it. Innocent, homey, makes you think of Dale Evans and there’s no one more sweet than Dale Evans. What do you think, Cal? Think she needs a new name? Something common but flashy. Something that says star more than Liz Evans.” Liz inhaled sharply as Cal’s hand wrapped firmly around her wrist, almost making her drop the glass of water she held. Glancing from Julius to Cal, Liz noticed a hint of recognition in Cal’s eyes that hadn’t been there before and she noticeably winced as Cal squeezed her wrist again. “Cal?”
“I think Liz Evans and I need to get more acquainted,” Cal replied through gritted teeth, not taking his eyes off of Liz. Jerking her arm to his side, he pushed past Julius and pulled his captive from the patio into the mansion. Liz’s final impulse before being cut off from the party was to scan the crowd for any sign of Michael or Kyle and hope they were watching her as closely as they’d promised Max they would.
Part 20
Part 20
ROSWELL
Jeff stood outside Room 405, his arms crossed over his chest and his head lowered. To the average passer-by, he looked like a man in need of a doctor himself. His hair needed a trim, his face a shave and his tired eyes sleep. He straightened as Rhoda, the main nurse on the wing, exited Jim’s room, a small smile on her face. “He’s doing very well today, Mr. Parker. You can go in, but as long as you don’t get him too excited. We both remember what happened yesterday.” Jeff nodded and stepped into Jim’s sterile room before the door closed behind Rhoda.
Jeff had been at Roswell Memorial since the FBI agent had slipped a note to him with her tip. The note had been written in Jim’s scrawling handwriting, which Jeff would have recognized anywhere, but this particular note was hard to read. Combining the legibility and the shaken way the FBI agent had looked when she gave Jeff the note, he had barely waited until he was in the back room to open it.
Heart attack. At Roswell Memorial. Trust her.
He had left the cafe only after telling Nancy what was going on and instructing her to call the Evans and Amy Deluca. For two days, Jim lingered in and out of consciousness. The doctors had been willing to speak to all of them, despite the fact none of them were blood related, and had told them Jim’s chances of survival was not good. Amy had been in near hysterics at the news and Diane had begged the doctor for a mild sedative. Jeff had been glad at the time for Diane’s suggestion, fearing that Amy could say anything in her hysterical state. Nancy had taken Amy home and for the remaining two days, Jeff had stood watch over his friend with Philip and Diane keeping sporadic vigil with him.
Jim had been released from ICU the day before and was moved to Room 405; the doctors amazed at his return from death’s door. Amy had been the first to see him, followed by the Evans and Nancy. Jeff had wanted to be the last one to visit him, especially in light of the cryptic note Jim had written telling Jeff to trust the FBI agent. They had spent several moments quietly talking when Jeff asked Jim about the agent and why they should trust her. Before Jim had any time to answer, his heart rate had accelerated past what his attending doctors felt normal for a man in his condition and had forbidden anyone, especially Jeff, from seeing Jim until his heart was more stable. So Jeff had waited, going so far as to spend the night in the fourth floor lobby, until he had approval to visit his friend.
“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said, raising his hand to Jim in a mock wave. “How are you today?” Jeff cautiously stepped further into the hospital room. He pulled the chair against the bed, careful not to disconnect any of the electrodes, wires or tubes connecting Jim to the machines. Jim smiled widely as Jeff adjusted himself into the uncomfortable chair. He nodded slowly and gave Jeff a thumbs up, followed by a silent laugh.
“Good,” Jeff replied, his own laugh filling the room. “That’s good.” Jeff patted Jim’s arm and he quickly fell silent again. “I...I wanted to talk about your note,” Jeff began. He noticed Jim’s demeanor change instantly and unconsciously squeezed Jim’s arm. “But you can’t get upset, Jim. Okay? If you’re going to act like you did yesterday, then they won’t let me see you. Okay?” Jim slowly nodded, closing his eyes, and Jeff exhaled in relief.
“So, you trust her, and you think I should too,” Jeff asked, his voice low, leaning as close to Jim as possible given the proximity of the machines surrounding Jim’s bed. Jim nodded slowly and Jeff rubbed his hand against his forehead. “She’s okay? She...she’s not trying to...” Jeff broke off when he saw Jim indicate using hand signals that he wanted something to write with. Turning his back to Jim, Jeff grabbed the pad of paper and pen from beside the telephone and handed it to him. Then he leaned back and waited for Jim to finish what he was writing. Jim wrote very slowly, pulling the pad close to his face for inspection and handed it back to Jeff.
Trust her. She’ll help the kids.
“I...I don’t know where she is,” Jeff exclaimed, his mind a whirlwind of activity. From the moment he discovered the FBI agent was in town, he had been looking over his shoulder. He was worried about Liz, naturally, but he assumed that the agent was in town looking for Liz and the others, waiting for them to come back home. “I...I don’t even know where to start looking for her or...or her name.”
Jim motioned for the pad back and, after Jeff passed it to him, he scrawled another note.
Her name is Sarina Zachary. I’ll find her when I get out.
Jeff returned the pad to Jim again after he finished reading. “But you don’t know when they’ll let you out, Jim. I...we can’t wait that long. What are we supposed to do in the meantime?”
Work. Maybe she’ll come to you...
“Maybe,” Jeff agreed, shoving the pad into his back pocket as Amy burst through the door, her face shining with tears. “Go easy on him, Amy,” Jeff mused as he vacated the chair, allowing Amy to bombard Jim with love from afar. “He’s not completely well, according to Rhoda.”
“Oh, Jeff,” Amy said, dabbing at her face with a wrinkled tissue. “You don’t have to leave. Please, stay.”
“It’s fine,” Jeff continued while moving toward the door, adjusting the pad so he wouldn’t lose it on his way out of the hospital. “I’ve got to get back to work.” Jeff met Jim’s eyes and smiled slightly, causing Jim to nod in agreement. “See you later, Jim. Take care.” And Jeff Parker left Room 405 and Roswell Memorial, content to let the mysterious FBI agent Sarina Zachary come to him, especially if she could help Liz return to Roswell.
ROSWELL
Jeff stood outside Room 405, his arms crossed over his chest and his head lowered. To the average passer-by, he looked like a man in need of a doctor himself. His hair needed a trim, his face a shave and his tired eyes sleep. He straightened as Rhoda, the main nurse on the wing, exited Jim’s room, a small smile on her face. “He’s doing very well today, Mr. Parker. You can go in, but as long as you don’t get him too excited. We both remember what happened yesterday.” Jeff nodded and stepped into Jim’s sterile room before the door closed behind Rhoda.
Jeff had been at Roswell Memorial since the FBI agent had slipped a note to him with her tip. The note had been written in Jim’s scrawling handwriting, which Jeff would have recognized anywhere, but this particular note was hard to read. Combining the legibility and the shaken way the FBI agent had looked when she gave Jeff the note, he had barely waited until he was in the back room to open it.
Heart attack. At Roswell Memorial. Trust her.
He had left the cafe only after telling Nancy what was going on and instructing her to call the Evans and Amy Deluca. For two days, Jim lingered in and out of consciousness. The doctors had been willing to speak to all of them, despite the fact none of them were blood related, and had told them Jim’s chances of survival was not good. Amy had been in near hysterics at the news and Diane had begged the doctor for a mild sedative. Jeff had been glad at the time for Diane’s suggestion, fearing that Amy could say anything in her hysterical state. Nancy had taken Amy home and for the remaining two days, Jeff had stood watch over his friend with Philip and Diane keeping sporadic vigil with him.
Jim had been released from ICU the day before and was moved to Room 405; the doctors amazed at his return from death’s door. Amy had been the first to see him, followed by the Evans and Nancy. Jeff had wanted to be the last one to visit him, especially in light of the cryptic note Jim had written telling Jeff to trust the FBI agent. They had spent several moments quietly talking when Jeff asked Jim about the agent and why they should trust her. Before Jim had any time to answer, his heart rate had accelerated past what his attending doctors felt normal for a man in his condition and had forbidden anyone, especially Jeff, from seeing Jim until his heart was more stable. So Jeff had waited, going so far as to spend the night in the fourth floor lobby, until he had approval to visit his friend.
“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said, raising his hand to Jim in a mock wave. “How are you today?” Jeff cautiously stepped further into the hospital room. He pulled the chair against the bed, careful not to disconnect any of the electrodes, wires or tubes connecting Jim to the machines. Jim smiled widely as Jeff adjusted himself into the uncomfortable chair. He nodded slowly and gave Jeff a thumbs up, followed by a silent laugh.
“Good,” Jeff replied, his own laugh filling the room. “That’s good.” Jeff patted Jim’s arm and he quickly fell silent again. “I...I wanted to talk about your note,” Jeff began. He noticed Jim’s demeanor change instantly and unconsciously squeezed Jim’s arm. “But you can’t get upset, Jim. Okay? If you’re going to act like you did yesterday, then they won’t let me see you. Okay?” Jim slowly nodded, closing his eyes, and Jeff exhaled in relief.
“So, you trust her, and you think I should too,” Jeff asked, his voice low, leaning as close to Jim as possible given the proximity of the machines surrounding Jim’s bed. Jim nodded slowly and Jeff rubbed his hand against his forehead. “She’s okay? She...she’s not trying to...” Jeff broke off when he saw Jim indicate using hand signals that he wanted something to write with. Turning his back to Jim, Jeff grabbed the pad of paper and pen from beside the telephone and handed it to him. Then he leaned back and waited for Jim to finish what he was writing. Jim wrote very slowly, pulling the pad close to his face for inspection and handed it back to Jeff.
Trust her. She’ll help the kids.
“I...I don’t know where she is,” Jeff exclaimed, his mind a whirlwind of activity. From the moment he discovered the FBI agent was in town, he had been looking over his shoulder. He was worried about Liz, naturally, but he assumed that the agent was in town looking for Liz and the others, waiting for them to come back home. “I...I don’t even know where to start looking for her or...or her name.”
Jim motioned for the pad back and, after Jeff passed it to him, he scrawled another note.
Her name is Sarina Zachary. I’ll find her when I get out.
Jeff returned the pad to Jim again after he finished reading. “But you don’t know when they’ll let you out, Jim. I...we can’t wait that long. What are we supposed to do in the meantime?”
Work. Maybe she’ll come to you...
“Maybe,” Jeff agreed, shoving the pad into his back pocket as Amy burst through the door, her face shining with tears. “Go easy on him, Amy,” Jeff mused as he vacated the chair, allowing Amy to bombard Jim with love from afar. “He’s not completely well, according to Rhoda.”
“Oh, Jeff,” Amy said, dabbing at her face with a wrinkled tissue. “You don’t have to leave. Please, stay.”
“It’s fine,” Jeff continued while moving toward the door, adjusting the pad so he wouldn’t lose it on his way out of the hospital. “I’ve got to get back to work.” Jeff met Jim’s eyes and smiled slightly, causing Jim to nod in agreement. “See you later, Jim. Take care.” And Jeff Parker left Room 405 and Roswell Memorial, content to let the mysterious FBI agent Sarina Zachary come to him, especially if she could help Liz return to Roswell.
Part 21
Part 21
Liz had no choice but to go with Cal as he dragged her through the first floor of his mansion and up the steps to the second floor. Once on the second floor landing, he stalked to his left, his grip on Liz’s wrist still just as fierce as when he had first grabbed her. Opening a random door, Liz was surprised when Cal dragged her inside the room and threw her toward the queen-sized bed against the wall. Two windows flanked the bed, and Liz could see the lights from the patio reflect in the dark room. She turned in time to see Cal lock the door with his powers, a red light glowing from underneath his palm, and she backed away slowly as he turned around to face her.
“So, Liz Evans,” Cal began, stepping toward Liz as she continued to back away from him, methodically rubbing the palm he had just used to melt the lock on the door. “I guess that means Max is back in town, even though I told him never to come back. I should have figured,” Cal laughed, startling Liz so badly she almost tripped on the landing where the bed sat. “Wanker.”
“It was my idea to come here,” Liz argued and she froze in her tracks as Cal advanced on her faster than she thought possible. His hot breath penetrated her face and Liz turned her face on an angle, closing her eyes, fearing she would faint from the electric charge sizzling in the air.
“Oh well,” Cal continued, his voice low and calm. “Then you must have Maxie boy by the balls. I never imagined he’d be so... selfless.” He paused, running his palm up the length of Liz’s arm, a trail of blue light following his path. “I’d be interested in seeing just how far this power of yours goes, Liz, especially if you’re good enough to keep Max’s balls where they belong.” Liz shuddered in response to his touch, not because she enjoyed it but because it frightened her and she’d only been this frightened in an alien’s presence one previous time. She swallowed slowly and defiantly raised her chin, meeting Cal’s hungry eyes. “So you met the other protector,” Cal continued as he stepped away from her but not before flicking his hand at her, knocking her onto her back onto the bed. “Looks like he got pretty far with you, Liz. Much farther than I’d thought.”
“I thought he was Max,” she replied, straightening her posture though she remained sitting on the bed.
“So I’ve got to look like Max,” Cal said, facing the window and overlooking the ongoing party on his patio. “I see. Well,” he replied, turning back to Liz with a sadistic grin on his face. “That can be arranged.” And before Liz’s frightened eyes, Cal Langley became Max Evans.
* * *
Michael held the tray of champagne-filled flutes in front of his body, his palm turned upward, as he made his way through the crowd surrounding the pool. He had caught sight of Liz for a split second and had been violently trying to get to her for the past twenty minutes. Every time he got close to the bar, he was always distracted by the job of distributing drinks. There were throngs of Hollywood people everywhere, much too many for his comfort. The only person he’d enjoyed serving was a guy who continually talked about hockey. Michael had gathered from the snippets of conversation he heard, the guy was pretty much full of himself, proclaiming that he was the best hockey player in L. A. Michael wanted to ask the guy if he’d ever heard of Gretzy but figured this wasn’t the place and certainly not the time to defend his hockey opinions. He had more important things to do, like watching Liz.
He spun toward the bar, using his powers to maintain the flutes on the tray, and felt his stomach drop to his toes. In the space where Liz was, where Liz should be, there was nothing. The crowd parted in front of him and he stomped straight ahead, ignoring the pleas of the drunk for more champagne. He turned from side to side, feeling a fear he hadn’t felt in some time rise up within him, and he quickly scanned the fringes of the crowd for any signs of Liz. Finding nothing, he turned back toward the bar and slammed the tray of drinks onto the bar top. “Where’s the brunette?”
“What brunette,” the bartender asked, his eyes not leaving the blonde at the far end of the bar. Michael followed the guy’s eyes and waited for several seconds as he tried to get his emotions under control.
“The brunette,” Michael continued, leaning across the bar to grab the bartender’s lapel. “The brunette with the black dress. Brown eyes, petite, attractive. Where is she?”
“Hey man,” the bartender shouted, knocking Michael’s hands away from his jacket. “I just work here. I can’t keep track of all the hotties that park it at my bar.”
“Think,” Michael growled as he grabbed the guy again, with more power behind his words. “Her name is Liz.”
“Oh...oh, I...I remember her,” the bartender said, his voice shaky. Michael sighed in relief that he had finally gotten the severity of the situation across to this guy. “She...she went upstairs with one of the producers.”
“Which one,” Michael prompted, something on the periphery of his vision catching his eye. He turned to his right and felt his blood boil as he watched Kyle flirt with one of several blondes surrounding him. He wondered briefly how Kyle could be so nonchalant with the women while Isabel was pregnant with his child, when he remembered he could be mad at Kyle for more than just losing Liz.
“Man, I don’t know. They all look alike.” Michael glared at the bartender, crossing his arms across his chest when he felt a surge of power - alien power - causing the hairs on his arms to stand on end. “Wait,” the guy continued. “I...I think it was that Langley guy.”
“We never had this conversation,” Michael barked, spinning quickly on his heels and marching straight for Kyle and the women in his pseudo-harem.
Liz had no choice but to go with Cal as he dragged her through the first floor of his mansion and up the steps to the second floor. Once on the second floor landing, he stalked to his left, his grip on Liz’s wrist still just as fierce as when he had first grabbed her. Opening a random door, Liz was surprised when Cal dragged her inside the room and threw her toward the queen-sized bed against the wall. Two windows flanked the bed, and Liz could see the lights from the patio reflect in the dark room. She turned in time to see Cal lock the door with his powers, a red light glowing from underneath his palm, and she backed away slowly as he turned around to face her.
“So, Liz Evans,” Cal began, stepping toward Liz as she continued to back away from him, methodically rubbing the palm he had just used to melt the lock on the door. “I guess that means Max is back in town, even though I told him never to come back. I should have figured,” Cal laughed, startling Liz so badly she almost tripped on the landing where the bed sat. “Wanker.”
“It was my idea to come here,” Liz argued and she froze in her tracks as Cal advanced on her faster than she thought possible. His hot breath penetrated her face and Liz turned her face on an angle, closing her eyes, fearing she would faint from the electric charge sizzling in the air.
“Oh well,” Cal continued, his voice low and calm. “Then you must have Maxie boy by the balls. I never imagined he’d be so... selfless.” He paused, running his palm up the length of Liz’s arm, a trail of blue light following his path. “I’d be interested in seeing just how far this power of yours goes, Liz, especially if you’re good enough to keep Max’s balls where they belong.” Liz shuddered in response to his touch, not because she enjoyed it but because it frightened her and she’d only been this frightened in an alien’s presence one previous time. She swallowed slowly and defiantly raised her chin, meeting Cal’s hungry eyes. “So you met the other protector,” Cal continued as he stepped away from her but not before flicking his hand at her, knocking her onto her back onto the bed. “Looks like he got pretty far with you, Liz. Much farther than I’d thought.”
“I thought he was Max,” she replied, straightening her posture though she remained sitting on the bed.
“So I’ve got to look like Max,” Cal said, facing the window and overlooking the ongoing party on his patio. “I see. Well,” he replied, turning back to Liz with a sadistic grin on his face. “That can be arranged.” And before Liz’s frightened eyes, Cal Langley became Max Evans.
* * *
Michael held the tray of champagne-filled flutes in front of his body, his palm turned upward, as he made his way through the crowd surrounding the pool. He had caught sight of Liz for a split second and had been violently trying to get to her for the past twenty minutes. Every time he got close to the bar, he was always distracted by the job of distributing drinks. There were throngs of Hollywood people everywhere, much too many for his comfort. The only person he’d enjoyed serving was a guy who continually talked about hockey. Michael had gathered from the snippets of conversation he heard, the guy was pretty much full of himself, proclaiming that he was the best hockey player in L. A. Michael wanted to ask the guy if he’d ever heard of Gretzy but figured this wasn’t the place and certainly not the time to defend his hockey opinions. He had more important things to do, like watching Liz.
He spun toward the bar, using his powers to maintain the flutes on the tray, and felt his stomach drop to his toes. In the space where Liz was, where Liz should be, there was nothing. The crowd parted in front of him and he stomped straight ahead, ignoring the pleas of the drunk for more champagne. He turned from side to side, feeling a fear he hadn’t felt in some time rise up within him, and he quickly scanned the fringes of the crowd for any signs of Liz. Finding nothing, he turned back toward the bar and slammed the tray of drinks onto the bar top. “Where’s the brunette?”
“What brunette,” the bartender asked, his eyes not leaving the blonde at the far end of the bar. Michael followed the guy’s eyes and waited for several seconds as he tried to get his emotions under control.
“The brunette,” Michael continued, leaning across the bar to grab the bartender’s lapel. “The brunette with the black dress. Brown eyes, petite, attractive. Where is she?”
“Hey man,” the bartender shouted, knocking Michael’s hands away from his jacket. “I just work here. I can’t keep track of all the hotties that park it at my bar.”
“Think,” Michael growled as he grabbed the guy again, with more power behind his words. “Her name is Liz.”
“Oh...oh, I...I remember her,” the bartender said, his voice shaky. Michael sighed in relief that he had finally gotten the severity of the situation across to this guy. “She...she went upstairs with one of the producers.”
“Which one,” Michael prompted, something on the periphery of his vision catching his eye. He turned to his right and felt his blood boil as he watched Kyle flirt with one of several blondes surrounding him. He wondered briefly how Kyle could be so nonchalant with the women while Isabel was pregnant with his child, when he remembered he could be mad at Kyle for more than just losing Liz.
“Man, I don’t know. They all look alike.” Michael glared at the bartender, crossing his arms across his chest when he felt a surge of power - alien power - causing the hairs on his arms to stand on end. “Wait,” the guy continued. “I...I think it was that Langley guy.”
“We never had this conversation,” Michael barked, spinning quickly on his heels and marching straight for Kyle and the women in his pseudo-harem.
Part 22
Part 22
Michael reached Kyle with relative ease, his long legs spread wide in stride. His only job had been to watch Liz, to make sure Liz was okay, and he had failed. Both he and Kyle had failed. Michael smiled sternly at the bevy of blondes surrounding Kyle as he stepped between them, breaking the circle around Kyle.
“...185 pounds of pure Greco-Roman wrestler, and that’s not even including my -” Kyle froze as he felt an unnatural heat pulsating against his back. He turned slowly, mentally preparing himself for the alien blast that never came. “Guerin.”
“Seen Liz,” Michael asked, arching his eyebrows in a motion unlike anything Kyle had ever seen cross Michael’s face.
“Yeah,” Kyle said with a smile, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “She’s right over -” Kyle pointed over Michael’s shoulder toward the bar and when Michael moved to allow Kyle a better view, Kyle discovered Liz was nowhere in sight. “I swear, she was right there,” Kyle continued.
“Well, she’s not there now,” Michael flippantly replied and he felt a surge of anger flash through him. “Want to know where she is?”
“Oh man,” Kyle said, slapping Michael on the shoulder. “You had me going. I thought you didn’t know where Liz was, that maybe Langley took her. Whew.” Kyle looked over his shoulder at the blondes still standing on the fringes of his conversation with Michael and smiled, causing several of the blondes to giggle.
“Funny, Valenti, cause Langley does have her. The bartender said he saw Langley take Liz into his house.”
“Max is going to kill us,” Kyle replied, his tone suddenly solemn and serious. “We’ve got to get her back.”
“Now we’re on the same team,” Michael snarled and the two men hurried up the sidewalk to the back door of Langley’s home.
* * *
“Stop it,” Liz screamed, holding her hand out in front of her in a weak gesture to scare Langley. “Don’t come any closer.”
“You’re puny powers are no match for me,” Langley seethed at her in Max’s voice. Liz closed her eyes tightly. “I’ve never felt this good. No wonder the other protector enjoyed being Max Evans, but with you at his side, who could blame him.”
“Change back! Shapeshift!”
“I don’t take orders from you, dear Liz, although I suspect I’m much rather take orders from you than your wanker husband. Why did you marry him,” Langley purred in Liz’s ear, his fingertips lightly dusting the contours of her face. “You could do so much better.”
“I love him.”
“And your love sent him into the arms of your most-hated enemy,” Langley retorted, Max’s face bristling, at what Liz couldn’t begin to imagine. “He hasn’t changed at all in the last half century.”
“Stop it,” Liz screamed, her eyes filling with tears. She backed away from Langley, closing her eyes and covering her ears with the palms of her hands, desperately trying to ignore Langley’s harsh comments. No matter how hard she pressed against her ears, Langley’s words still floated through her brain like a broken record. He hasn’t changed at all in the last half century. “Just stop it!”
“You did this, Liz, as much as I hate to say it,” Langley said, his voice a near whisper. He jerked Liz’s hands away from her ears, holding her wrists tightly within his grasp. A small cry escaped from her throat and before Langley could control himself, Liz was in his arms, his mouth pressed firmly against hers. He had somehow managed to pin her arms between their bodies, feeling her fists beat against his chest, and he knew this was the first time Liz had ever struggled against Max. “I don’t want to hurt you, Liz,” he whispered against her cheek, surprising himself by actually being sincere in his admission. He didn’t want to hurt Liz; he wanted to hurt Max. Max had destroyed his life, not Liz. Max was the selfish one, not Liz. Max was worthy of his hate, not Liz.
Glancing sideways at Liz, her face streaked with mascara, her hair mussed and her skin flushed pink, he backed away from her slowly, his mind processing the realization that Liz had actually made him feel something for a human that he had never felt before. That was the moment Cal Langley realized he didn’t have to hurt Liz - he had to save her.
The momentary lull in Langley’s advance was all Liz needed to plan her escape. Kicking the pointed toe of her high-heeled shoe swiftly at Langley’s left knee, she landed the blow just underneath his knee cap. Langley growled in pain, instantly clutching his left knee as he collapsed to the ground. Liz ran past him toward the bedroom door and placed her hand on the knob, summoning her weak powers to unlock the door. Within seconds, the door was open and Liz ran into the hallway, her salvation visible at the end of the hall.
“Michael,” she shrieked, waving her arms wildly over her head. Michael turned toward her and Liz recognized the relief in his eyes. She saw Kyle appear beside Michael, both of them running down the long hallway toward her. Before she could run toward them, she felt someone grab her around the waist, scooping her up off the ground. Her eyes widened when she realized that she was once again in Langley’s clutches, and that she had lead him directly to Michael and Kyle.
Michael reached Kyle with relative ease, his long legs spread wide in stride. His only job had been to watch Liz, to make sure Liz was okay, and he had failed. Both he and Kyle had failed. Michael smiled sternly at the bevy of blondes surrounding Kyle as he stepped between them, breaking the circle around Kyle.
“...185 pounds of pure Greco-Roman wrestler, and that’s not even including my -” Kyle froze as he felt an unnatural heat pulsating against his back. He turned slowly, mentally preparing himself for the alien blast that never came. “Guerin.”
“Seen Liz,” Michael asked, arching his eyebrows in a motion unlike anything Kyle had ever seen cross Michael’s face.
“Yeah,” Kyle said with a smile, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “She’s right over -” Kyle pointed over Michael’s shoulder toward the bar and when Michael moved to allow Kyle a better view, Kyle discovered Liz was nowhere in sight. “I swear, she was right there,” Kyle continued.
“Well, she’s not there now,” Michael flippantly replied and he felt a surge of anger flash through him. “Want to know where she is?”
“Oh man,” Kyle said, slapping Michael on the shoulder. “You had me going. I thought you didn’t know where Liz was, that maybe Langley took her. Whew.” Kyle looked over his shoulder at the blondes still standing on the fringes of his conversation with Michael and smiled, causing several of the blondes to giggle.
“Funny, Valenti, cause Langley does have her. The bartender said he saw Langley take Liz into his house.”
“Max is going to kill us,” Kyle replied, his tone suddenly solemn and serious. “We’ve got to get her back.”
“Now we’re on the same team,” Michael snarled and the two men hurried up the sidewalk to the back door of Langley’s home.
* * *
“Stop it,” Liz screamed, holding her hand out in front of her in a weak gesture to scare Langley. “Don’t come any closer.”
“You’re puny powers are no match for me,” Langley seethed at her in Max’s voice. Liz closed her eyes tightly. “I’ve never felt this good. No wonder the other protector enjoyed being Max Evans, but with you at his side, who could blame him.”
“Change back! Shapeshift!”
“I don’t take orders from you, dear Liz, although I suspect I’m much rather take orders from you than your wanker husband. Why did you marry him,” Langley purred in Liz’s ear, his fingertips lightly dusting the contours of her face. “You could do so much better.”
“I love him.”
“And your love sent him into the arms of your most-hated enemy,” Langley retorted, Max’s face bristling, at what Liz couldn’t begin to imagine. “He hasn’t changed at all in the last half century.”
“Stop it,” Liz screamed, her eyes filling with tears. She backed away from Langley, closing her eyes and covering her ears with the palms of her hands, desperately trying to ignore Langley’s harsh comments. No matter how hard she pressed against her ears, Langley’s words still floated through her brain like a broken record. He hasn’t changed at all in the last half century. “Just stop it!”
“You did this, Liz, as much as I hate to say it,” Langley said, his voice a near whisper. He jerked Liz’s hands away from her ears, holding her wrists tightly within his grasp. A small cry escaped from her throat and before Langley could control himself, Liz was in his arms, his mouth pressed firmly against hers. He had somehow managed to pin her arms between their bodies, feeling her fists beat against his chest, and he knew this was the first time Liz had ever struggled against Max. “I don’t want to hurt you, Liz,” he whispered against her cheek, surprising himself by actually being sincere in his admission. He didn’t want to hurt Liz; he wanted to hurt Max. Max had destroyed his life, not Liz. Max was the selfish one, not Liz. Max was worthy of his hate, not Liz.
Glancing sideways at Liz, her face streaked with mascara, her hair mussed and her skin flushed pink, he backed away from her slowly, his mind processing the realization that Liz had actually made him feel something for a human that he had never felt before. That was the moment Cal Langley realized he didn’t have to hurt Liz - he had to save her.
The momentary lull in Langley’s advance was all Liz needed to plan her escape. Kicking the pointed toe of her high-heeled shoe swiftly at Langley’s left knee, she landed the blow just underneath his knee cap. Langley growled in pain, instantly clutching his left knee as he collapsed to the ground. Liz ran past him toward the bedroom door and placed her hand on the knob, summoning her weak powers to unlock the door. Within seconds, the door was open and Liz ran into the hallway, her salvation visible at the end of the hall.
“Michael,” she shrieked, waving her arms wildly over her head. Michael turned toward her and Liz recognized the relief in his eyes. She saw Kyle appear beside Michael, both of them running down the long hallway toward her. Before she could run toward them, she felt someone grab her around the waist, scooping her up off the ground. Her eyes widened when she realized that she was once again in Langley’s clutches, and that she had lead him directly to Michael and Kyle.
Part 23
Part 23
“It’ll take more than a swift kick to the shin to get rid of me,” Langley seethed against Liz’s cheek as she struggled in his arms. He glanced over the top of Liz’s head and saw two men running toward them from the opposite end of the hallway.
“Max is going to kill you if you hurt me,” Liz said as Langley placed his palm against the crown of her head, his fingers settling against her scalp.
“Not if I kill him first,” Langley retorted, meeting Liz’s frightened expression directly. He felt her body tremble momentarily then slump in his arms. He almost stumbled, surprised by the sudden weight of her body. His face must have shown his surprise because the two men immediately asked about Liz when they reached his side.
“What happened,” the tallest man, the former general Langley knew was now called Michael. The shorter man, whom Langley suspected immediately to be a Valenti, touched Liz’s shoulder in a semi-loving gesture. Langley stepped backward from the touch, cradling Liz’s limp body tighter.
“She fainted,” Langley said. He stared at the two men, an evil scheme forming in his mind. “Langley had her.” Michael and Valenti exchanged glances and Langley worked through the final stages of his impromptu plan.
“How did you get here, Maxwell,” Michael asked, a glare crossing his features. “You were supposed to stay with Maria and Isabel at the hotel.”
“I was worried about Liz.”
“And you didn’t trust us, is that it,” Michael continued, stepping toward Langley, his face becoming more red as the seconds ticked. “I told you Liz would be okay.”
“And being taken by Langley is okay? Liz was in danger, Michael, and I was stupid to let her come here. I’m taking her home before he can hurt her any more.”
“Where is he,” Valenti asked. “D...did you kill him?”
“He’s in that room,” Langley nodded with his head toward the room he and Liz had just vacated. Both Michael and Valenti turned and walked into the room, taking Langley’s word on the matter.
“There’s nothing -” Michael began as the door slammed behind he and Kyle. “Oh God,” he muttered to himself, raking his fingers through his hair.
“What,” Kyle asked as he jerked the doorknob to and fro. “What’s going on? Why would Max lock us in here?”
“That wasn’t Max,” Michael sighed. “It was Langley and he’s got Liz.”
* * *
Max paced in front of the small twin bed where Isabel lay, Maria sitting atop the sink base in the opposite corner of the shabby hotel room. It had been almost ten minutes since he had felt any kind of connection with Liz, their bond broken as easily as turning off a light switch. “I can’t stay here,” he said, grabbing the pullover from the back of the chair closest to the door.
“What about Isabel,” Maria questioned in a hushed whisper as she jumped off the counter top and rushed to Max’s side. “We agreed that we would stay here with her. And if you’re going after Liz, I’m going too. She might need me, or something could have happened to Michael...”
“Nothing happened to Michael,” Isabel replied groggily, raising herself up on her elbows. “He and Kyle are fine, I think. But something is wrong with Liz.”
“Then I have to go to Langley’s house,” Max said, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful not to rock it with his weight. Isabel’s stomach had just begun to protrude, showing the early signs of pregnancy, but all of them knew she could give birth at any time.
“Go,” Isabel suggested, her hands splayed on the lower part of her stomach as she sat up and leaned backwards against the headboard of the bed. Max moved toward her but Isabel waved his hands away. “I swear Max, I’m better today. Go find Liz.”
“Are you sure,” he questioned, already rising from the bed with Maria at his side.
“I’m fine,” Isabel insisted. “Really. They need you more than I do. We’re just fine.” She smiled and patted her stomach gently. "Go.”
Both Max and Maria hugged her before they ran out the door to the van parked on the opposite side of the parking lot. Isabel turned on the television, adjusting the volume immediately as she listened for any signs that they would return. After several minutes when Isabel was sure they were gone, she shifted toward the telephone and dialed the front desk.
“Could you call a cab for me, please? I need to get to LAX. Okay. Thank you.”
Placing the receiver back on the phone, Isabel struggled to her feet and walked to the closet to retrieve her small backpack. For a split second, she thought about leaving a note for Max to let him know not to worry about her, but decided against it. It was better if they didn’t know she was going to Boston. Liz and Kyle were the only two people that knew Jesse was in Boston, and Kyle was the only one that knew Isabel had considered abandoning them to be with her husband. Isabel hadn’t thought about putting her plan into action so quickly but when the opportunity presented itself, as it had tonight, she decided she should take it. Fate had helped her, she thought as she closed the hotel door and walked toward the lobby because she knew with Liz in potential danger, Max would be totally focused on Liz. None of them would even know she was gone until she was safely in Boston with Jesse.
* * *
Max squealed the tires of the van as he pulled into the caterer’s entrance of Langley’s estate. He and Maria practically jumped from the van, almost before it had stopped moving, and narrowly missed being hit by a black Mercedes also screeching out of the back entrance. He paused momentarily, turning to watch the Mercedes disappear down the driveway, but shook the weird feeling away as he and Maria began to run toward the house. A large crowd was still gathered pool side, oblivious to the fact that the host was missing so Max and Maria entered the house through the front door unnoticed. “Let’s go upstairs first,” Max suggested and Maria nodded her consent.
They cautiously walked up the stairs to the second level of Langley’s house and stood in the hallway, closed doors on either side of them. “Where do we look now? Should we start busting the doors down to find them?”
Before Max had an opportunity to respond to Maria’s questions, a slight blast shook the hallway and wooden door fragments splintered onto the opposite wall several yards away. Max grabbed Maria and pulled her behind him, his hand instinctively flexed with his green shield in place, prepared to protect them from whatever had blown up the door.
Michael and Kyle ran into the hallway, Maria in Michael’s arms before Max’s shield had fully dissipated. “Bad news, Maxwell,” Michael groaned as they met in the center of the hallway. Max felt his heart seize and grabbed at his chest with his left hand. He knew something had happened to Liz even before Michael said a word. He and Kyle wore the gravest of expressions on their faces and Max knew it could only be bad news about Liz. “Langley’s got Liz. He shapeshifted into you and took her. Locked us in that room. I don’t know if he did anything to her or not but Liz was out like a light when we saw her.” Michael’s words hadn’t registered with Max. He knew Liz was in danger, had felt it the moment their connection was severed. An unknown anger boiled beneath his skin and Max suddenly had the urge to kill Cal Langley.
“Oh God,” Maria gasp, burying her head against Michael’s chest.
“If she’s asleep, Isabel should be able to dreamwalk her,” Max replied, already making his way down the stairs to the van. “We’ve got to go back to the hotel.”
* * *
Max, Michael, Kyle and Maria entered the hotel room only to find it void of Isabel’s presence. Maria searched the bathroom and closet thoroughly. There was no sign of a struggle, alien or otherwise, and no sign of forced entry through the window or door according to Kyle’s expertise. The front desk clerk, when questioned by Michael, had been less than helpful but swore nothing strange had taken place while he had been on duty. The four friends reconvened in the empty room, Max stoically quiet and Maria shaken.
“We’re screwed,” Kyle remarked to Michael after a quick surveillance of the parking lot gave them no clues to Isabel’s whereabouts. “Totally screwed.”
“It’ll take more than a swift kick to the shin to get rid of me,” Langley seethed against Liz’s cheek as she struggled in his arms. He glanced over the top of Liz’s head and saw two men running toward them from the opposite end of the hallway.
“Max is going to kill you if you hurt me,” Liz said as Langley placed his palm against the crown of her head, his fingers settling against her scalp.
“Not if I kill him first,” Langley retorted, meeting Liz’s frightened expression directly. He felt her body tremble momentarily then slump in his arms. He almost stumbled, surprised by the sudden weight of her body. His face must have shown his surprise because the two men immediately asked about Liz when they reached his side.
“What happened,” the tallest man, the former general Langley knew was now called Michael. The shorter man, whom Langley suspected immediately to be a Valenti, touched Liz’s shoulder in a semi-loving gesture. Langley stepped backward from the touch, cradling Liz’s limp body tighter.
“She fainted,” Langley said. He stared at the two men, an evil scheme forming in his mind. “Langley had her.” Michael and Valenti exchanged glances and Langley worked through the final stages of his impromptu plan.
“How did you get here, Maxwell,” Michael asked, a glare crossing his features. “You were supposed to stay with Maria and Isabel at the hotel.”
“I was worried about Liz.”
“And you didn’t trust us, is that it,” Michael continued, stepping toward Langley, his face becoming more red as the seconds ticked. “I told you Liz would be okay.”
“And being taken by Langley is okay? Liz was in danger, Michael, and I was stupid to let her come here. I’m taking her home before he can hurt her any more.”
“Where is he,” Valenti asked. “D...did you kill him?”
“He’s in that room,” Langley nodded with his head toward the room he and Liz had just vacated. Both Michael and Valenti turned and walked into the room, taking Langley’s word on the matter.
“There’s nothing -” Michael began as the door slammed behind he and Kyle. “Oh God,” he muttered to himself, raking his fingers through his hair.
“What,” Kyle asked as he jerked the doorknob to and fro. “What’s going on? Why would Max lock us in here?”
“That wasn’t Max,” Michael sighed. “It was Langley and he’s got Liz.”
* * *
Max paced in front of the small twin bed where Isabel lay, Maria sitting atop the sink base in the opposite corner of the shabby hotel room. It had been almost ten minutes since he had felt any kind of connection with Liz, their bond broken as easily as turning off a light switch. “I can’t stay here,” he said, grabbing the pullover from the back of the chair closest to the door.
“What about Isabel,” Maria questioned in a hushed whisper as she jumped off the counter top and rushed to Max’s side. “We agreed that we would stay here with her. And if you’re going after Liz, I’m going too. She might need me, or something could have happened to Michael...”
“Nothing happened to Michael,” Isabel replied groggily, raising herself up on her elbows. “He and Kyle are fine, I think. But something is wrong with Liz.”
“Then I have to go to Langley’s house,” Max said, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful not to rock it with his weight. Isabel’s stomach had just begun to protrude, showing the early signs of pregnancy, but all of them knew she could give birth at any time.
“Go,” Isabel suggested, her hands splayed on the lower part of her stomach as she sat up and leaned backwards against the headboard of the bed. Max moved toward her but Isabel waved his hands away. “I swear Max, I’m better today. Go find Liz.”
“Are you sure,” he questioned, already rising from the bed with Maria at his side.
“I’m fine,” Isabel insisted. “Really. They need you more than I do. We’re just fine.” She smiled and patted her stomach gently. "Go.”
Both Max and Maria hugged her before they ran out the door to the van parked on the opposite side of the parking lot. Isabel turned on the television, adjusting the volume immediately as she listened for any signs that they would return. After several minutes when Isabel was sure they were gone, she shifted toward the telephone and dialed the front desk.
“Could you call a cab for me, please? I need to get to LAX. Okay. Thank you.”
Placing the receiver back on the phone, Isabel struggled to her feet and walked to the closet to retrieve her small backpack. For a split second, she thought about leaving a note for Max to let him know not to worry about her, but decided against it. It was better if they didn’t know she was going to Boston. Liz and Kyle were the only two people that knew Jesse was in Boston, and Kyle was the only one that knew Isabel had considered abandoning them to be with her husband. Isabel hadn’t thought about putting her plan into action so quickly but when the opportunity presented itself, as it had tonight, she decided she should take it. Fate had helped her, she thought as she closed the hotel door and walked toward the lobby because she knew with Liz in potential danger, Max would be totally focused on Liz. None of them would even know she was gone until she was safely in Boston with Jesse.
* * *
Max squealed the tires of the van as he pulled into the caterer’s entrance of Langley’s estate. He and Maria practically jumped from the van, almost before it had stopped moving, and narrowly missed being hit by a black Mercedes also screeching out of the back entrance. He paused momentarily, turning to watch the Mercedes disappear down the driveway, but shook the weird feeling away as he and Maria began to run toward the house. A large crowd was still gathered pool side, oblivious to the fact that the host was missing so Max and Maria entered the house through the front door unnoticed. “Let’s go upstairs first,” Max suggested and Maria nodded her consent.
They cautiously walked up the stairs to the second level of Langley’s house and stood in the hallway, closed doors on either side of them. “Where do we look now? Should we start busting the doors down to find them?”
Before Max had an opportunity to respond to Maria’s questions, a slight blast shook the hallway and wooden door fragments splintered onto the opposite wall several yards away. Max grabbed Maria and pulled her behind him, his hand instinctively flexed with his green shield in place, prepared to protect them from whatever had blown up the door.
Michael and Kyle ran into the hallway, Maria in Michael’s arms before Max’s shield had fully dissipated. “Bad news, Maxwell,” Michael groaned as they met in the center of the hallway. Max felt his heart seize and grabbed at his chest with his left hand. He knew something had happened to Liz even before Michael said a word. He and Kyle wore the gravest of expressions on their faces and Max knew it could only be bad news about Liz. “Langley’s got Liz. He shapeshifted into you and took her. Locked us in that room. I don’t know if he did anything to her or not but Liz was out like a light when we saw her.” Michael’s words hadn’t registered with Max. He knew Liz was in danger, had felt it the moment their connection was severed. An unknown anger boiled beneath his skin and Max suddenly had the urge to kill Cal Langley.
“Oh God,” Maria gasp, burying her head against Michael’s chest.
“If she’s asleep, Isabel should be able to dreamwalk her,” Max replied, already making his way down the stairs to the van. “We’ve got to go back to the hotel.”
* * *
Max, Michael, Kyle and Maria entered the hotel room only to find it void of Isabel’s presence. Maria searched the bathroom and closet thoroughly. There was no sign of a struggle, alien or otherwise, and no sign of forced entry through the window or door according to Kyle’s expertise. The front desk clerk, when questioned by Michael, had been less than helpful but swore nothing strange had taken place while he had been on duty. The four friends reconvened in the empty room, Max stoically quiet and Maria shaken.
“We’re screwed,” Kyle remarked to Michael after a quick surveillance of the parking lot gave them no clues to Isabel’s whereabouts. “Totally screwed.”