Diesel suddenly realized he’d stopped talking and had simply been staring at Juliana.
She stared back with a winsome smile. He’d been woolgathering and she’d not only caught him at it, she’d remained silent and let him go off on his lengthy journey of introspection.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“Nothing important. What other questions do you have for me?”
“Besides the lazy bureaucrat forefather who carelessly shortened the name Alienne to Alienn by dropping the last E, is there any other event you know of that makes people think aliens roam wild around here?” She’d mimicked his pronunciation of Alienne. Her tone of voice had some strange, goofy impact on his system and made him feel…well, a little stupid.
He pushed out a sigh. Now he needed to spout the company line about Roswell and hopefully dissuade her from following this aliens-roaming-loose track. “Back in 1947 when the incident in Roswell happened, we got a lot of attention simply because of our name. Lots of folks got all wound up, coming to Alienn from the surrounding areas to kick up a ruckus. Ultimately, nothing came of it.
“We don’t have any aliens with death-ray eyes that smoke humans where they stand or a diabolical agenda to take over the planet. We just sell gas, supplies and snacks to truckers and travelers and the space theme seems to be popular with our vast and varied customers.”
“So it’s as simple as that. There are no aliens, the name was a typo from its inception and Maxwell the Martian is a convenient marketing mascot to sell fuel, snacks and sundries.”
“Exactly.”
She nodded. Her expression said she believed him, but in her mind he got a vague impression of very strong determination. But he didn’t know what direction that resolve was going.
Was she satisfied with his company line or not? Had she determined that no visible hint of aliens besides Maxwell resided here, or would she be back? He hoped vigorously this wasn’t the last time he’d see her. If she came back, he was fine with that. He just didn’t want to fend off a publicity attack or deal with a horde of paparazzi that might accidentally discover what went on in the truck stop’s basement.
“What about the cellular signal?”
“What about it?”
“Rumor has it there is not a single bar of service for nearly a ten-mile radius around Alienn and this truck stop.”
“Is that a question? Sounds more like gossip.”
Her eyes narrowed as if she suspected he wasn’t going to cooperate with her dangerous queries.
“Okay. Why isn’t there a signal for a ten-mile radius around this place?”
He shrugged. “Ask all those phone people who put up cellular towers every five feet across the land except around here. We’re lucky we have hard lines so we can communicate with the outside world at all.”
If Juliana ever dug deep enough, she’d find that all the strategic places where a tower could be erected to provide service in this area were owned by someone uninterested in allowing a tower to be erected at any price, ever. So far the law was on the landowner’s side. If that changed, the people of Alienn would have to adapt and overcome that obstacle when the time came.
Diesel was particularly proud of the plan to keep towers out, as he was the one who came up with it several years ago when cellular phone use was growing exponentially. He always figured it had helped him with his goal of becoming Fearless Leader. Being the oldest in his family didn’t guarantee him the position. He’d had to earn it. He’d worked his butt off to get this job, truth be told. Axel had suggested there’d been a vote, but Diesel didn’t think there had been. None of his brothers had wanted to be in charge. And they knew he’d wanted it more than anything else.
Juliana stared at him for several seconds before making a note on her pad. He hoped if she was able to find out why no towers had ever been allowed she’d return and ask him about it.
Juliana Masters was hands down the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, human or Alpha.
She flipped a page, kept writing and then turned the pad over and shuffled backward through her notes. She put her pen point in the center of a random page and said, “One last thing…”
“Sure.”
Her gaze lifted to his. She was gorgeous, especially her eyes. “What can you tell me about the Boogieman Affair?” she asked in a quiet voice, rocking his soul with surprise. Whoa. He hadn’t seenthatcoming.
“What?” Diesel’s mind raced to conjure a reasonable explanation for something that had nearly undone them, an event that until this moment he hadn’t realized any earthlings had any inkling of whatsoever.
“Do I really need to repeat the question or is this a stall tactic?” Her beautiful eyebrows rose higher in challenge.
“Stall tactic,” he admitted. “I hate to answer your question with a question, but—”
“I doubt that,” she said under her breath.
“—where did you come by this information?”
