“As a kid, I overheard my parents talking about it a few times—at least, I think that’s what they were talking about. Anyway, for some reason I remember horses and cattle.”
“So we’re looking for a farm?” Sam said, laying a decent enough pair of jeans aside.
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, you said horses and cattle. Maybe Laboratory Z was located near a farm or something, or a ranch. Maybe that’s what you remember.” She looked across the stacks of clothes at him. “This place is right on a bus route. We can get to San Ramon with only a couple transfers. Man, I hope my car’s okay.…”
He grinned, started to chuckle.
“Hey, what’s so funny?”
“The way you said that.”
“Said what?”
“About your car. Hoping it’s okay.”
“Well, I do.”
They steered the cart holding their selections to the food aisles next, starting in the section vaguely labeled “Nutrition.”
“Wow, you meant what you said about PowerBars,” Sam noted, as Alex dumped a handful of boxes in atop their clothes. “Six boxes?”
“We only have to pay for four, remember? And I went with the generic brand.”
“Right, a real sacrifice.”
“Come on,” he said, holding up one of the boxes. “Food fit for an astronaut.”
“All we need is some Tang to wash it down.”
“Tang?”
“Never mind,” Sam told him.
At the checkout line, both their eyes drifted to the prepaid cell phone offerings while waiting their turn. The best deal was $9.95 for a cheap, knockoff smart phone offering unlimited talk, text, and Web for the first week at that introductory price.
“You should call your parents.”
“We already went over this.”
“They’ll be worried sick.”
“I just want them to be safe and sound when I get home.”
Alex pushed their cart forward and back again. Two more carts had piled in the checkout line behind theirs, the woman currently at the front paying for her purchases out of a quarter jar, taking forever.
“Maybe they don’t know who you are,” he said unconvincingly.
“They stole my iPad, remember? And wiped the backup off the Cloud.”
“Why?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. Must’ve had something to do with the pattern I uncovered.”
“What pattern, exactly?”
“It’s hard to explain, complicated.”
“And I won’t be able to understand.” Alex nodded.
“Did I say that?”
“You didn’t have to.”
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. Even though Dr. Donati seemed interested in my findings, very interested.”
“See, you’re even smarter than you think.” He sighed and blew the stray hair from his face. “I want you sleeping in your own bed tonight. I want to get you home.”
“Not if it means leaving you alone.”
“Apparently, I’ve always been alone. I just didn’t know it.”
“You’re not alone now.”
“Thanks,” he said shyly, gaze tilted downward. “We’ll go to San Ramon together. After that—”
“After that,” Sam interrupted, “we’ll figure out what comes next.”
“Your parents. They need to hear your voice, Sam.”
“Not over one of those things,” she said, eyeing the prepaid phones displayed at the register. “Might as well hold a spotlight on myself.”
“I’ve got another idea,” Alex told her.
He leaned against the cart. The woman in front of them had her purse in the child seat—open. Her phone was clearly visible.
Alex deftly slipped it out and handed it to Sam. “Now, be like ET and phone home.”
74
PHONING HOME
SAM BACKED OFF, NOTICING the phone’s real owner was just then placing her purchases on the register conveyor belt, too busy with that and her two kids to have any idea the phone was missing. Her throat felt thick, her heart hammering against her chest when the phone began to ring and she willed someone to answer.
“Joints Are Us,” her mother greeted, Sam realizing instantly that she must have forwarded her home calls to the business line.
“Mom?”
“Honey,” her mother’s voice came back, “where are you?”
“Well, I—”
“Ronald, it’s Sam,” her mother called to her father before she could continue. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you come home last night? The police were here.”
“Police?” Sam repeated, feeling something flutter inside her.
“Two of them, asking to speak to you. They wouldn’t say what it was about. You weren’t answering your cell phone, straight to voicemail. We’ve been worried sick. What’s going on, Sammie?”
“What did they look like?”
“Who?”
“The police.”
“Like … cops.”
“What about smell? Did you notice how they smelled?”
“What?”
“Never mind,” Sam said, switching gears. “What did you tell them?”
“Nothing, because there was nothing to tell. That’s right, isn’t it? I think they may still be parked outside. Let me look—wait, your father just came in. I’m handing him the—”
“Sam!” she heard her father’s voice call.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Whatever it is, you can tell us, Sammie. Why were the cops here? What’s it have to do with Alex Chin?”