Chapter Nine

David Hartman thanked providence for having an oddly suited fellow fall from nowhere, distracting the meddlesome FBI agent who had mysteriously discovered them. David had been able to leap a few cars but then his muscles had stiffened with panic at doing so a fifth time and he and Philip were stuck on the train roof. Only after the joy at seeing Philip's blow knock the agent off the roof had David been able to corral his courage and get back to their initial box car, ignoring the claims by the hoboes that they knew the two had murdered the Fed.

With the agent no doubt dead they felt confident their plans were still valid. He hadn't known their target, nor where their final destination was. They leapt off the box car as it slowed down joining the massive lines of track which fed trains through the Los Angeles city system. They were immediately picked up by a couple of their cohorts, glorifying the story of their eventful train ride.

The conference was scheduled to begin the next day, Tuesday. They had rented a lower class home in Studio City with a large garage on the property where they had stored their wires, incendiaries, and other tools of their arsonist trade. Arsonists knew better than to keep very flammable material in their own living quarters. They'd spend the night doing the last stages of organization before implementing their designs to turn the Research dinner banquet room at the hotel into a rousing, fatal conflagration.

However, when Karen failed to show up, suddenly their mind shifted and they wondered if the Fed had been smarter than they thought. Karen wouldn't talk, but how had he tracked her down? How had he tracked them down? A alarm of urgency pierced their previous calm, confident mindsets. They needed those supplies. Hartman and Philip took the used car they had purchased and at 8 p.m. began a speedy drive back up to Bakersfield.

Ralph stood a few more minutes staring upwards although the ship had disappeared, the rainstorm bouncing water off his face. He wondered what to do next. There was a real benefit having an experienced FBI agent as a partner because Ralph had the least cunning mind he knew, and simply hadn't yet developed the capacity to know the best way to lead an investigation.

He had to find the criminals and he supposed he had to alert the authorities that Karen was tied up in the trunk. He didn't want her to suffocate. Ralph ran through the options in his mind. He could contact the FBI and inform them of what was going on….only how could he explain Bill being taken up by aliens for a brief hospital stay? He could go back to the Bakersfield warehouse and try to find another item to holograph, but the vibes were fading as the fire had been a week ago. Wait a second. Bill hadn't had the piece of glass he had found on him; he had probably left it in his car at the train station. Perhaps using that as a vibe guide would work again. Or, he could fly down to LA and find the train at the LA freight yards and vibe off it. Maybe he could just vibe off the train tracks themselves…Or he could go back to Karen Englewood and fly around with her, potentially scaring her into telling Ralph what was going to happen.

His head spinning with possibilities, he simply didn't know what to do. A lightbulb idea set him straight. He'd call his wife Pamela and get her opinion. Ralph knew the intricacies of Palmdale given the amount of time he and Bill spent out in the desert nearby the town, working on perfecting Ralph's suit abilities. There was a pay phone by a gas station on the eastern outskirst of Palmdale. He flew there, knocking over a plastic trash can as he landed. Plastic was good; much softer and quieter than landing on a metal one. It was pretty quiet at the station and luckily no one was outside to notice him. He brushed off coffee grinds from his arm, and then called Pam collect. It was nearing 6 p.m; she'd be at their home.

The phone rang four times and Ralph had to keep his tension under control or he knew there was a good chance he would simply crush to pieces the receiver resting against his head. "Come on, come on, pick up the phone!" he pleaded.

It was sweet and soothing to hear a mild voice pick up and say "Hello."

"Pam! Thank God you're home!"

"Hi, honey, what's going on? I thought we were going out to dinner tonight."

"No, sorry, we can't. I've been helping Bill on a case and it's gone horribly wrong."

"What's happened?"

Ralph told her the story and the heavy silence on the other end of the phone emphasized Pam's dismay. "Will Bill be okay?" she asked in a whisper, shocked by his injuries.

"I think so. But, I've got five hours before I need to be back here to collect him, and I don't know what I should do." He told her this thought processes. "What do you think makes most sense?"

"I don't know, honey. You do need to get that woman out of the truck. It's cruel to keep her tied up in the dark."

"Should I fly her around to interrogate her?"

Pam Davidson was a lawyer and her profession was designed to enter into cases that were presented after the legal investigations were over and charges were filed. She hadn't studied much criminal investigation at school and though perhaps her mind was more cunning than her husband's, based on finding flaws in prosecutors' cases, she usually was not an active part of Bill and Ralph's scenarios. She had much less experience than Ralph in how to logically, and legally, piece together cases from random strands and clues.

"You know I'm not a fan of you and Bill interrogating terrified people in mid-air even though I know doing so has saved lives and solved cases. One way or another you need to call the cops and get her properly arrested."

"So start there?

"I don't know. Maybe first try the piece of glass again. That gave you good information and it's only been a few hours. The vibe energies should still be active. Then go rescue Karen."

"Vibing on the truck contents might be helpful," Ralph said pensively.

"That sounds like a good plan. First take care of the woman, and then vibe the contents. Yeah, honey, that's a start."

It was amazing how talking to another person about all this brought a sense of clarity to Ralph's otherwise discombobulated mind.

"Listen, don't wait up for me. It's going to be an all-nighter, I think."

"Ralph, can I help in any way?"

Ralph pondered the question. "You know, Pam, I've got to be back here around 11 pm—the ship should arrive anywhere from 11-2 a.m., depending on how quickly Bill can heal up. I sure would like to have company during the wait. Do you mind driving up to Ruby's, the diner in Palmdale? I'll meet you there. It's a quick flight from Ruby's to the landing spot."

Pam was a good wife. "I'll be there at 11, honey. Good luck."

"Thanks!"

Ralph hung up as the gas station attendant turned the outside corner coming face to face with Ralph. He dropped the bag of trash on the ground.

"Whoa doggie," the attendant said. "What's with the get up? You nuts or something?"

One couldn't find fault with a man who said things straight from the hip.

"Yes, completely bonkers," Ralph answered. He pointed at the trash can lying on its side, its contents sprawled out in a terrible mess. "Sorry about that."

The man scowled at the clutter and then turned back to the red suited crazy, only to find he had disappeared. Gone. Vanished. Looking left, right, and around the corner of the station, up and down the street, in the gas station bathroom, the attendant didn't find him at all. He rubbed his chin. Maybe Marylou was right and he should cut down on the beer.

Ralph flew quickly back to Bakersfield and tracked down Bill's car at the train station. The car was locked and the keys were still in Bill's pocket up by Saturn. Concentrating on the car door, Ralph unlocked it with his mind. He slid inside, glad to be out of the rain, glad to have normal clothes to put on. He sat behind the wheel taking deep breaths to relax and gather his wits.

A lot had happened in six short hours.

And to top it off, he was hungry.

The rain pelting the roof of the car was somewhat meditative, and Ralph rested his head back against the top of the seat. His rest was disturbed by images of Bill's bone graphically visible through his trousers. He should have landed on the roof on his feet, or at least landed on the bad guys facing Bill. He should have used his telekinesis power to stop the man from hitting Bill. He should have used it to lower a falling Bill to the ground gently.

It was a suit fiasco, all around.

But, other cases had de-evolved in front of them and they had always found a way to push through the harrowing crises and get the job done. Bill would be back in action in a few hours and it would be helpful to him to see that Ralph had made good use of their time apart.

Ralph looked down on the passenger seat and saw the glass piece wrapped up in Bill's handkerchief sitting on top of his bundled up clothes and shoes. He unwrapped the glass and held it up firmly to his chest, staring at the windshield in front of him.

"Come on, vibe for me…" he entreated.

It took several minutes of total concentration; the vibe was indeed weakening.

The window finally shimmered into a vision of the woman sitting tied and gagged in the truck, a little pool of urine underneath her. Ralph's face converted into a Bill-like "Yikes!" look, as he realized that real life was not Hollywood, as people on TV never had to deal with basic body needs. He'd have to get her out of there; after all, there were other body needs she might need to engage in he didn't want to think about. Wait! The truck was being opened by police. Oh, boy. No doubt they had wondered what the truck was doing angled awkwardly on the side of the road. Karen grew animated and thrust her bound hands out for them to undo. So much for flying around with her. Not only that, but there was a good chance they'd let her go. She'd probably say she was attacked and tied up in the back. Ralph could race there but without any authority, without a badge, without any hard evidence, he could never make a convincing argument to arrest her.

Fiasco.

The vision next jumped to the two men he had seen on the roof of the box car. He brought his eyebrows down low in disapproval glimpsing the man who had wielded the crowbar. They were in an old beat up car speeding up the I-5 Freeway to Bakersfield.

"What do you think happened to Karen?" crowbar asked.

"I'm worried the Fed got her before he came after us. How did he find out about us? I can't fathom it."

"What's our plan?"

"Follow her tracks for awhile from the hotel. We know how she planned to go. If we don't see her, I don't know. Check out the hospitals. We can't go to the police looking for her."

"It'll set us back if we don't have those supplies."

"Eddie is trying to track down similar items in LA. Things might turn out okay."

The vision faded. "No!" Ralph cried out. He still didn't know what they were planning on burning down. "Damn!"

Karen was her name. Karen would be able to contact them and bring the supplies down, after being let go by the police. He could follow her from the police, or he could find the two men and follow them back to their hideout. Either of those could take time, though, and he only had four hours before he had to be back in Palmdale. He could stop and tie them up, keeping them from going back to LA, but who was Eddie and would he and others do the fiery deed on their own without their leader?

Investigating with little time was hard. Maybe he would think better with some food in his stomach and him taking care of his own bodily needs. Ralph started the ignition of the car with his mind and then dressed quickly in the car. He patted his pocket, happy to have a wallet with some money in it. He drove to a subway shop and wolfed down a meatball sub, using the facilities afterwards.

Ralph left the shop and stood back outside in the drizzling rain. He still didn't know what to do. People were going to die and he didn't know which trail to follow. He could fly around looking for the car with the two men in it, but with the weather bad it would be hard, if not impossible to find them. With Karen associated with the police, getting involved there seemed like a bad idea. She'd have to get the tire changed, so she couldn't leave right away, anyway. Besides, if he was going to drive Bill's car down to Palmdale, which seemed best, that would take two of the four hours left. It was a confusing puzzle.

Maybe he should just drive to the desert and wait for Bill to get back and give him directions. Bill would know what to do.

It was true. You didn't realize how much you needed someone until they were gone.

Ralph looked up into the night sky.

It was funny how powerless a super strong guy could feel.

In the end, with time to kill, Ralph made a half-hearted attempt to find the car. The piece of glass, which he tried to vibe a third time, was petered out of its energies and no vision came. So, he took off his clothes and took to flight, zipping over to the I-5 and Highway 99, looking for the beat up blue sedan with two men in it.

It was worthless. He couldn't make out the cars in the dark and the languishing storm, as headlights obscured clear details and the wind shook him up. He fell a couple of times onto wet grass, once slipping idiotically on the soaked ground as he hopped his three steps, and like a banana peel skit, plopping down directly onto his butt. A slew of unfiltered expletives screeched out of his larynx and a slight tantrum with his fist embedded nearly his entire forearm in the dirt. Finally, after an hour and a half of being physically and emotionally miserable, he flew back to Bill's Diplomat, ordered the ignition to start and got dressed again. Putting the car in drive he began the trip to Palmdale feeling like a failure. Getting lost and having to ask for directions to Tehachapi highway didn't improve his mood.