Greg Cox: Loose ends

Blushing, she seemed to realize that she was still snugly clasped in his arms. He repressed a frustrated sigh as she (reluctantly?) extricated herself from his grasp and took a few steps backward. She was still close enough, though, that he could smell her hair and savor the contours of her voluptuous figure. "My name's Isabel," she said. "Isabel…DeLuca." She looked him over flirtatiously. "What's yours?"He hesitated, uncertain whether to divulge his real name. There was a lot at stake here, and he didn't want to make a fatal mistake just because this girl was a knockout. Then again, he thought, scoping her out from top to bottom, where's the harm? He wasn't violating any regulations by spending the weekend at Carlsbad; as far as anyone knew, he was just checking out the local tourist attractions-and talent. Behind his shades, his eyes greedily devoured Isabel as, fanning herself with one hand, she slowly slipped out of her jacket, which she folded over the metal guardrail. She leaned back languidly against the rail, coyly watching him watching her. In fact, he rationalized, mouth watering, he might get himself into more trouble if he started fabricating things unnecessarily. What was that old saying about lies and tangled webs? "Lieutenant David Ramirez at your service," he said confidently. Throwing caution to the winds, he removed his sunglasses and tucked them into one of the inner pockets of his flight jacket. "Currently stationed at White Sands Missile Range."Her eyes widened just like he hoped they would. "Isn't that where they're testing the 'Star Wars' missile defense system?" she asked, displaying rather more knowledge of current events than he expected. "Are you involved with all that?"Conveniently, he had a perfectly legitimate excuse for being evasive. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss my specific duties," he said ominously A little intrigue and mystery could only enhance his image, he figured. "Matters of national security, you understand. Strictly classified, on a need-to-know basis."Oh, right. Of course," she said, nodding. "I should have realized." Her baby- doll pout deepened, and she peered up at him through thick, curling lashes. "Can't you give me just a hint, though?"Sure," he said lightly, "but then I'd have to kill you." He laughed again, to make it clear he was joking, sort of, while hastily pondering his next move. Should he try to lure her back to his motel room in Whites City, or just try to get her phone number? A red-hot afternoon fling would sure take his mind off his midnight meeting with Morton, and everything that could go wrong there, but what if she accidentally stumbled onto the merchandise? Then he might have to kill her for real.

"So, are you from around here?" he asked curiously. If she was a tourist, visiting from God knows where, then he'd have to move quickly if he wanted to score with her. Even with the whole Morton mess hanging over his head, it would be a crying shame to let an opportunity-and a hottie-like this go to waste.

"Oh, sure," Isabel replied. "I was born and raised in…Artesia."That's south of Roswell, right?" Until today, he hadn't gotten off the base much.

"By about fifty miles or so," she confirmed. "Midway between Carlsbad and Roswell, actually." Sultry, brown eyes probed his. "You ever been to Roswell?" she asked innocently.

He mentally kicked himself for even mentioning the R-word, just when he was finally succeeding in getting his mind off classified government secrets and their sale. "Say you got any plans for this afternoon?" he inquired impulsively, changing the subject. "Maybe we could go for drinks, or something?"This isn't too smart, he realized, even as he stepped closer to the alluring young woman, flashing his most ingratiating smile. Now that he knew she was local, he should just play it cool and look her up after his business with Morton was wrapped up. I can't help it, though, he thought, unable to resist the almost magnetic attraction drawing him onward. I mean, look at her! Unfortunately, her immediate response to his invitation was an embarrassed wince. "Gee, that sounds great, but I promised my friends I'd hook up with them uptop." She glanced at the paved walkway leading away from the Bottomless Pit. "In fact, I'm probably running late already."Damn! He knew a brush-off when he heard one. So much for a world outside of time, he thought irritably. His restored spirits, and mounting excitement, went into a nosedive. Time-wasting little tease! Don't tell me she wasn't flirting with me shamelessly this whole time.

Then, after he had already written her off, Isabel smiled slyly and said, "You know, Mr. Lieutenant, I'd love to see you in uniform sometime. I'll bet you look just like Tom Cruise." She reached over and adjusted the lapel of his flight jacket. "Maybe you can give me your phone number?"Maybe his lurid fantasies weren't quite dead after all. "Sure," he said, "if you'll give me yours."Another sheepish wince, followed by an inviting gaze. "I'd rather give you a call, if that's all right." She shrugged her shoulders, tossing her flowing blond hair at the same time. "It's complicated," she explained vaguely.

A jealous boyfriend? he speculated. Overprotective parents? Frankly, he didn't need those kinds of hassles, either. Seeing nothing to lose, and plenty to gain, he scribbled down his cell phone number on a scrap of paper he found in his wallet. "Here," he said cheerfully, handing her the improvised note. "You can reach me there most of the time, except when I'm on duty, of course."Naturally," she replied. She folded the slip of paper carefully and placed it in her back pocket. "I've got to run," she said, retrieving her jacket and slipping it back on. "But I'll be in touch, I promise!"I sure hope so, Ramirez thought, eyeing her hungrily as she hurried onto the trail back to the rest area and the elevator. Chances were, he might never hear from her again, but even still, his accidental meeting with this hot little number was the luckiest break he'd had in a long, long time.

Now he just had to get through this weekend without ending up behind bars.

Or worse.

Men! Isabel Evans thought with disdain. Human or alien, they were all the same; flirt with them a little, bat your big brown eyes adoringly, and you could get them to do almost anything. Lieutenant Ramirez hadn't even put up a fight. Whatever his full story was, he'd been just as easy to manipulate as the high school boys she was used to wrapping around her little finger.

As she rushed back toward the elevator, she worried briefly about whether she had maybe laid the vamp act on a little too thick. Had that whole dizzy spell routine been too much? What if she'd tipped her hand when she fell into his arms, raising his suspicions instead of lowering his defenses? Naah, she decided promptly. He'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker, she could tell. Another woman would have seen through that transparent ploy right away, but, as she'd learned repeatedly since sixth grade at the latest, subtlety was lost on most members of the male gender. Sometimes you couldn't be too obvious, especially where men were concerned.

Besides, she reflected, I could have been even more blatant, given the setting. Stalagmites, caverns, unexplored nether regions… the possibilities for smutty double entendres had been almost too readily available. Not that 1 needed them, she thought with a smirk.

Her confidence in her own time-tested techniques and tactics gave way to unsettling fears and suspicions as she considered the information she had managed to extract from the lecherous lieutenant. Classified military experiments at White Sands? Isabel chewed nervously on her lower lip, disturbed by the possible implications of Ramirez's background. Visions of top secret alien autopsies and extraterrestrial artifacts paraded behind her fretful brown eyes, awakening deep-rooted fears and anxieties that were never very far from her thoughts.