“We think you know more about John Smith than you might even realize.” Walker never takes her eyes off Sarah. “You were dating him. You must have some information that would be relevant to our investigation. Something that might help us to decipher exactly what happened at your school.”
“I hardly knew him,” Sarah says, staring down at the table. “We weren’t dating.”
“We saw a video that looked like he was flying out of your burning house,” the woman says to me. She turns back to Sarah. “He was carrying you.”
Sarah smiles.
“It’s crazy what you can do with cameras and a few hours on the computer, isn’t it?” she asks.
“Sam was always good at stuff like that when we had presentations at school,” I add. “He probably did it.”
Sarah kicks me under the table. I can’t figure out why until the agent turns to me and smiles.
“Samuel Goode. His mother, Patricia Goode, is a nurse. Father is Malcolm Goode, a . . .” She pauses for a moment before smiling a bit. “Current whereabouts unknown. Sam hasn’t been home since that night either. His mother is worried sick about him. It would be nice if she had any assurance that her son was alive.”
“Sam is . . . ,” Sarah starts, but then stalls. I recognize the look on her face. She’s trying to connect all the dots and carefully plotting out what she’s going to say.
Speaking carefully has never been my strong suit.
“Sam Goode is a conspiracy theory nut job,” I say, lounging back in my booth a little. “That little twerp wears the same NASA T-shirt every day of the week. You should hear the kinds of things he talks about. Aliens. The Illuminati. Personally, I think it’s his way of trying to get people to notice him when all the attention goes to me and my buddies on the team. He probably finally had enough of it and ran away, using the school thing as an excuse. He’s smart, but he’s also a total wuss. Trust me when I say he can’t handle himself in a fight. Not exactly terrorist material. If you ask me, he’s probably hunting for Sasquatches in the woods somewhere. That’s where I’d try to find him, at least.”
I take a big swig of my soda and glance over at Sarah, who’s looking at me with a mixture of disgust and confusion. I give her a little kick under the table, and she manages a smirk.
I take a chance and lean forward, grabbing Sarah’s hands in mine. They’re soft and tremble slightly. I have to hold them still against her initial urge to pull away.
“Isn’t that right, babe?” I ask, flashing the toothiest grin I can muster her way.
“That’s probably true,” she mutters.
“Well, that’s very enlightening, Mr. James,” Agent Walker says.
“I think I’m ready to go now,” Sarah says, scooting towards Walker.
The agent doesn’t move.
“But you haven’t even eaten yet,” she says. Agent Noto still hasn’t so much as breathed as far as I can tell.
“I’m not hungry,” Sarah says.
“Why don’t we talk a little more?”
“Oh, are you charging us with something?” I ask.
“What would we have to charge you with?” Walker says with a smile that’s just a little too forced.
“Nothing.” I shrug. “I just know you can’t keep us here unless you are actually going to arrest us or something. That’s how my father’s always said the law works.”
Walker gives a few short laughs, which seem to say, “How very cute that you think that’s how things work around here.” Still, she slides out of the booth. Agent Noto follows her.
“If you happen to remember anything,” Walker says, pulling a business card from her suit pocket and holding it out to Sarah, “do let us know. We’ll be in touch.”
In a flash, Sarah’s left the booth and headed for the door. It takes me a little longer to get out, and Walker’s standing in my way when I stand.
“That girl is trouble,” she says, still holding up the card. “Don’t let her take you down with her.”
We stare at each other for a moment. Her eyes are light and intense. Finally, I take the card and slip it into my pocket then push past her. On the way out, our waitress rounds the corner with our steaming pizza.
“Hey, where are you going?” she asks, clearly ticked off.
I shrug and point to Agent Walker.
“Red’s taking care of our lunch,” I say. And then I’m gone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SARAH’S WAITING FOR ME ON THE SIDEWALK A few stores down. When I get close, she starts to walk away quickly, and I have to jog a few steps to catch up to her.
“What was all that about?” she asks.
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific,” I say.
“All that stuff about Sam, for starters.”
“I was just trying to cover my ass if they didn’t already think he was with John after I stupidly said his name. Trying to throw them off the trail.”
“Okay, then what about holding my hand. What was that?”
I stop and turn to her. We’re on the corner. The wind whips her hair back and forth across her face, and she looks like tears might fall from her eyes at any moment. I have no doubt that the agents are still watching us, so I step to the side to make sure that they can’t see her face from inside the pizza place.
“Sarah, if they think you’re his girlfriend, they’re going to keep watching you,” I say softly. “You know that. I was just trying to throw them off you as well.”
“I can look out for myself,” she says.
“I know you can. But you shouldn’t have to. John shouldn’t have—”
“I know.” She cuts me off in a huff. “Trust me, I know. I’m well aware of how messed up this situation is. All of it. And if there was some way I could fix everything, I would. I half wish John would get arrested because at least that way I’d know where he is, and that he’s safe.”
The wind whistles a little as we stand, not talking to one another. I want to hug her—to touch her in any way—and it takes a good amount of my willpower to remind myself that if I freak Sarah out, I lose the only person I care about, and the only person I can talk to about everything that’s happening. Other than a bunch of random people online who are probably old dudes living in their moms’ basements and surviving on caffeine and corn chips.
Besides, I’ve already pushed her as much as I can today.
“Sam doesn’t believe in Sasquatches,” Sarah finally says with a faint smile. “We talked about it before. No Bigfoot hunting for him.”
“At this point I’m not sure that I don’t believe in Bigfoot,” I say.
This gets a little laugh out of her, which makes me smile.
“I don’t know. I think I’d trust Sam on this one. He was way ahead of us on all this alien stuff. He probably knows more about John’s history than John does.”
This is true. It’s something I file away for the future. What did Sam know? How did he find stuff out? And did he leave any records?
“I’ve got to get out of here,” Sarah continues.
“Okay, where do you want to go?”
She shakes her head.
“I just need to be alone for a little while,” she says, digging for her keys in her purse.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I ask. “I can come over if you want. Or we can stay out in public where no one can get to you.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Besides, my brothers are home this weekend, and there’s nothing they love more than trying to act tough and protect their little sister. We’ll talk later, all right?”
“Yeah,” I say.
I watch her walk away and make sure she gets to her car okay. She’s just a speck down the road when my senses come to and I start putting things together about our weird encounter at the pizza place. Agent Noto was sitting behind me.