“Sure. Let’s go. There was an interesting story from about eighty-plus years ago that I thought you might like about an infamous duo in town and up to no good.”
“That is very interesting and vague. Can we get inside and look around?”
“Maybe. Aren’t you afraid?”
“Nope. Since you won’t tell me about all the aliens roaming around here, I’m on the hunt for an interesting story that I can put in my article. It’s really important to me to turn in something great that the book editors will love and want to include.”
“You said that before. Will you share with me why this article in Finder’s is so important to you?”
She opened her mouth but closed it, her body language clearly saying she was hesitant to explain, as if she feared his reaction. “It’s a long story,” she finally said very softly, not looking at him.
“We have all weekend.”
She turned slowly and stared at him with what looked like desire. “Well, then, I’ll explain sometime this weekend.” She moved closer as she spoke. He leaned toward her, seeking the kiss he’d wanted when they’d gotten into his truck.
Diesel held her gaze, wanting to discuss how long she intended to stay, wanting to kiss her senseless, wanting to get lost in a sensual embrace—
Ring. Ring. Ring.
The ring of his communicator pealed loudly in the confined space of his truck cab, jarring the mutual staring contest and, worst of all, ruining the moment.
Chapter Eleven
“What!” Diesel growled into the device he’d pulled off his belt, easing back into the driver’s seat. Juliana also leaned away from the center console, disappointed that they’d almost, but not quite, kissed.
She looked at his phone. It didn’t really look like a cellular, more like a beeper. How did he have phone service here in town? Alienn must have some other way to communicate, like a closed or online system of some sort. Or perhaps it was an alien technology-based communication network ready to take over the world? Probably not. She smiled to herself and looked at him. He sure was easy to stare at.
Diesel’s eyes slowly closed as he listened to the voice at the other end of the line, as if the words he heard severely disappointed him.
“I’m busy. Why can’t you do it?” he asked. “Because it’s my turn isn’t a good enough reason, Cam. Like I said, I’m busy.” He listened a little bit longer. “Never mind what I’m busy with.”
She could hear a tinny voice from the other end of the phone line continue, but not what was said. “You know what? Fine. I’ll do it. Stop calling me.” He folded the device in half like an old flip phone and clipped it back to his belt.
“How come you have cell service?”
He looked at the phone. “Since we don’t have coverage, we have a closed system we use for truck stop employees, sort of like an advanced walkie-talkie system.”
“I see. I’d guessed alien technology.”
“Of course you did.”
She laughed. “What do you have to do that you don’t want to?”
“I have to check my parents’ house. They are traveling in an RV across the country. My little sister lives there, but she’s out of town at some sort of summer school thing, so one of the rest of us stops by every day to ensure everything is safe and sound.”
“Is this the house you grew up in?” She tried not to sound as wistful as she felt about the idea of visiting the home where he grew up with his vast number of siblings. She’d spent her entire youth wishing to be adopted into a huge family.
He nodded.
“Can I come with you?”
“Sure. Want to pop into the former speakeasy and look around first?”
“Tell me the story. What is this place besides a speakeasy?”
“The speakeasy was in the basement and rumor has it there was more than one escape route leading to tunnels that opened out in the forest yonder. But the rumored story I thought you’d be interested in was the upstairs portion, which in the early 1930s was a bank.”
“There was a speakeasy in the basement of a bank?” She was dubious.
