Maria watched Emma closely as she walked past the tables and out the door, not noticing when Liz sidled up next to her stool.
"Maria?"
The gentle hand on her shoulder jolted the blonde out of her stupor and she nodded toward Emma who she could still see through the diner's front window. "Look. What do you think that could be about?"
Liz redirected her gaze and took in an obviously nervous Emma and a person she could only identify as a man in dark clothing. She quickly discounted her mind's foolish and instantaneous ramblings about the unknown man's origin and possible profession until she was forced to remind herself that she had once believed aliens to be an impossibility as well. "You don't think he's really a … you know, a man in black, do you? Like in the movie?"
Maria didn't shift her gaze. "Sounds dumb but then again…so did aliens a year or so ago."
"But why would he be talking to Emma?" Liz asked, adding, "Unless we're under suspicion again and they're trying to get information through your cousin."
Maria shifted on the stool, snorting in disgust. "They'd do better to go through Sean. Emma's too protective to say anything even if she did know what was going on."
The two girls watched Emma's animated if distressed body language for what seemed like an hour to their nerves but was in reality only a few minutes, both of them breathing sighs of relief when Emma at last nodded to the man and moved to return to the café. Maria's breath hitched in her throat when the stranger reached out and snagged Emma's arm, pulling her close to him for a moment before finally releasing her again. He blended into the deep night as Emma slipped through the door and plastered a smile on her face for the benefit of anyone who was watching.
"Who was that?" Maria asked once she neared the counter.
"Like I said," Emma said, "just someone I know." She regained her stool and refused to make eye contact with either girl as they stared at her.
"I guess he wasn't hungry?" Maria egged, wanting to know the secrets that coated Emma's eyes and stole away the sparkle that had been there mere moments before.
Emma remained silent and dipped her spoon into the sweet confection that sat melting in its glass bowl, raising it to her lips slowly and deliberately. She fought to still the tremors that threatened to send her hands into miniature convulsions. There was no need for Maria to be aware of the dangers that lurked on the horizon, at least not when they didn't concern her. If she had any say in the matter, the danger would never concern her younger cousin.
Still unconvinced, Maria continued to stare at Emma. Liz accepted the silence as her cue to return to waiting tables.
"What?!" Emma cut her eyes at Maria, uncomfortable under the heavy weight of her accusatory glare.
"You're hiding something, Emmy," Maria insisted. "He wasn't asking questions about, well… about me or Liz or anyone like that, was he?"
Emma incredulous look answered Maria's question before her response could. "Of course not, why would he? Just drop it, Maria. Believe me when I say that dropping the subject is what's best right now."
Twirling her own spoon through the whipped cream of her sundae, Maria considered the ramifications of saying anything else to Emma. "For now, chika. But I might surprise you if you decide you want to get it off your chest. In the meantime I've got these great aromatherapy candles at home from Mom's shop that do wonders for anxiety."
Emma chuckled a little. "Alright, I may just have to give those a try."
The rest of the evening passed without further incident and they returned to the comfort of the DeLuca home safe and sound.
Emma relaxed back into the plush of the couch in relief, an half empty medicine bottle tossed on the end table. One headache was enough for what was supposed to be a relaxing break from her whacked out version of a normal life. One headache per day was all she could handle and Joseph usually saw to it that she was constantly on edge anytime they were apart. Separation from him was always enough to warrant a refill on her migraine meds.
Snagging the remote control from its position on the end table, she flipped on the television and quickly scanned through the channels, settling on a mindless science fiction program. She needed something to ease the constant worry running through her head.
Joseph had said he would be in Roswell soon. How soon was yet to be ascertained since the man's version of telling time was unlike anyone's she had ever known. Even the Native Americans' idea of "Indian time" was faster than Joseph's incredibly lax measure of minutes and hours.
Sighting the agent outside the Crashdown that evening had been a bit disturbing. She had expected them to take longer to get to New Mexico. If she could manage to get Joseph safely there, then she shouldn't need to worry about the agents anymore. Together they were an indomitable force. It was when they were apart that they were in danger.
The desert loomed mysteriously in the deepening night, a flameless heat enveloping the parched dirt and brush. Tumbleweeds crowded the fence posts, jostling for position with each gusting wind. The sounds of rustling grass and the calls of carrion birds and cicadas filled the howling of the wind, adding to the ominous landscape.
A lone motorcycle flew across the rough terrain, kicking up loose dust and dirt in its wake and sending the stinging clouds to dance and disperse in the high gusts. The rev of its engine echoed in the wind, carrying across the lonely expanse as the driver ignored the paved roadways in favor of the less public open desert.
Less than ten miles from Roswell, the motorcycle returned to the road obeying the speed limit as it traveled the well-worn pavement. The driver fumbled with the zipper on a breast pocket before extracting a cell phone.
He needed to call Emma, more than just because she had asked him to. He needed to hear her sweet, honeyed voice, her worry-filled questions and reprimands. But if he spoke to her, he would have to explain what had happened in Virginia and he wasn't sure he knew himself. She was expecting two of them to appear on her aunt's doorstep, she would be upset when she saw he was alone.
Deciding that stopping to make the call would only delay his reunion with her, Joseph replaced the phone in his pocket and accelerated the bike just a little more. He needed to see her with his own eyes and make sure she was all right. They had left Bosnia and Belaruse in such a flurry of bitter terror and anxiety that even the several hours on the trans-Atlantic flight hadn't been adequate time for any of them to calm down sufficiently. He still worried that their experiences in Europe would have lasting detrimental effects on the young woman he had come to care for so much.
He whipped past the city limit sign, ignoring the posted speed limit as he began to replay the directions she had given him, directions that would lead him to Emma's family's house in Roswell and to Emma herself.
Slowing down on the residential streets, he began to let his mind wander. He had never meant to fall in love with the woman. The first time he had seen Emma, she had been dressed in khaki shorts and a sleeveless white blouse, her hair was in wild windblown curls and was the exact same shade as her tanned skin. He had only thought to use her to get out of the country. He had intended to lie to her and abandon her at the train depot after convincing her to accompany him on a tour of the countryside. He had never intended to drag an innocent into his battle.
But in the end he had done just that. Emma had found herself in the midst of a fight for survival that should never have so much as touched her. Now she was in just as much danger as he or David were.
He slowed the bike to a rolling stop in front of the appropriate house. She would be pleased to see him and he was selfish enough to accept her hospitality and her emotional attachment. He hated himself for being so weak, for continuing to keep her directly in harm's way. He was an lost man and Emma was his salvation.
The doorbell drew Maria out of her bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head and her face stripped of any makeup. "If this is Michael…" she muttered, padding toward the front door. Quickly glancing in the living room on her way, she spied Emma asleep on the couch, taking note of the prescription bottle on the table.
The man who stood on the other side of the door was unfamiliar and she studied him for a minute through the peephole. She didn't know him but she wouldn't mind getting to know him. Hadn't Emma said something about a friend of hers coming to Roswell? Maria pulled open the door a crack just as the stranger reached again for the doorbell, leaving the chain latched. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Emma Cadmus. She gave me directions?"
Maria smiled. "You must be the Joseph she refuses to tell me about."
"Guilty as charged." He flashed a bright heart-melting smile that left his eyes dancing in the brilliant porch light. "Is she around?"
"Yeah, hold on." Maria closed the door long enough to unlatch the chain and pulled it open again, wide enough so Joseph could enter. "She's asleep on the couch," she said motioning toward the living room.
Joseph strode across the carpet, relief clear in his expression as he neared the couch. "Oh Emma," he whispered as he sat between her and the table. He picked up the pill bottle, tilting it so he could see how many doses were remaining.
Maria stood back, watching the tenderness of Joseph's touch as he stroked Emma's cheek, wishing Michael would be half as caring.
At the unexpected touch, Emma's eyes flew open, a gasp caught in her throat. "Joseph!" she cried, throwing herself forcefully into his waiting arms. "Oh God, Joseph! I was so worried you wouldn't make it here."
Holding her tight against his chest, he smoothed her unruly curls with a gentle hand. "Shh, I'm here. I'm here."
Emma pushed herself away from him so that she could look at his face. "David. I haven't been able to get him on his cell since I got here. Have you seen him? Is he okay?"
Joseph turned his face from hers, crushing her to his chest again. The silence was far more telling than any words could be.
"No… no, he isn't. Not after we made it out of Europe. Not after everything we went through to get away…" Emma struggled in Joseph's iron grip, her head shaking forcefully against his breast. "No!"
"Emma-sweet, I'm sorry, I should have told you when I first found out but I knew you would just worry all that much more about me. There wasn't anything I could do, they caught him as soon as we got to Virginia. There's a detention facility there… they… I tried. I tried everything I could think of and even a few things I knew wouldn't work. I did everything I could to get him back, but…" he let his voice trail off.
Maria continued to listen to the confusing discussion. At first, she had intended to leave them alone to their reunion but then her curiosity got the better of her. The other man they had fled Europe with was dead? Wasn't that what they were talking about?
"Maria!"
Emma's outburst drew Joseph's attention. "What?"
"Maria." She repeated. Emma's eyes were huge at the thought that the girl was still standing in the entry, listening to every word they said. She studied her young cousin's face closely, seeing confusion and speculation mingling in her features.
Furiously, her mind grappled for an explanation, some way to make Maria believe that everything she had just heard was just an every-day tragedy. A friend had died. Joseph hadn't needed to say it, she knew the consequences of being caught. Her friend had died. It happened all the time, didn't it? No, friends didn't get caught and tortured to death in detention facilities. That was straight out of a bad science fiction horror movie.
The phone rang before she could decide on a course of action, taking Maria out of the room to answer it. Emma turned her attention back to Joseph, pulling him into another hug. "She can't find out, Joseph. It's too dangerous. I never should have come here."
Joseph continued to smooth her hair. "You had no choice, Emma. You had no where else to go… and it's all my fault."