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| Maria DeLuca swore as she hit a pothole in the road. Interstate Forty was close, but not close enough for her. Driving over the bumps and bruises of a state highway in a hell-like temperature was enough to make her crazy. She slid a CD into the player and felt no remorse for spending the money to get a decent car stereo. She was actually thankful that she had, otherwise the constant driving around tracking down this fugitive, Liz Parker, would be horrendous. She sang along with the Go-Go's as the dying sun still managed to beat down on the canvas top of her jeep and the sickly hot wind whipped into her skin. "Vacation," she laughed. "That's what I need, a freakin' vacation." When she had been handed the file on one Liz Parker a little over two weeks ago, she accepted without question. Maria knew how to handle herself around killers; one little embezzler should have been a piece of cake. Maria underestimated Liz Parker and let her slip right through her fingers. She promised herself that wasn't going to happen again, no one made a fool out of Maria DeLuca and got away with it. She checked the clock on the dash, almost seven PM. She'd already been on the road for over two hours leaving her with just about twelve more to go. She was confident she'd be in Roswell New Mexico for the sunrise. * * * Michael Guerin leaned against the driver's side door of a two year old silver Mustang. He was waiting for Isabel's brother, Max Evans, to get out of class. The parking lot to the University was about half full and Michael couldn't help but notice all the pretty coeds as they sashayed by him on their way to somewhere else. "Michael," a familiar voice called from a short distance. Michael looked away from short skirts and to a man he considered a brother. Max Evans was dressed the perfect psychology student. Khaki pants and a white T-shirt, a dark green backpack slung over his shoulder completed the ensemble. "Max," Michael smiled at the contrast between the two old friends. "Ready for a beer?" "Always," Max followed Michael a few parking spots over to his truck after dropping of the backpack in his own car. He got in and immediately turned the volume down on the radio before Michael even started the truck. Michael wanted to tell Max about Liz Parker so bad that he could almost taste it. He showed more restraint than normal and didn't say anything until they were side by side at the bar in their familiar watering hole, 'Little Green Bar'. "How's my sister?" Max asked after taking a long drink from his bottled beer. "Still the biggest pain in my ass," Michael raised his eyebrows at him and shrugged. "Otherwise, she's fine." "So," Max bowed his head. His hair, midnight in the darkness of the bar, reflected the red neon lights from a beer sign above them. He sighed. "So what's going on?" "Why does something have to be going on?" Michael asked innocently. As innocently as he could. There was one thing that was almost as fun as antagonizing Isabel and that was antagonizing her brother. "Michael." Max turned and looked at the man next to him. The man who was obviously trying hard not to smile. "Okay, fine." He motioned to the bartender for another beer. "So we got this new job today, someone who's suspected to be headed to Roswell, right?" "Go on." Max closed his eyes for an extended blink. "It seems this person stole a bunch of money from her company and was going to testify against them, right? But then she skipped town." "Why are you telling me this?" "This person, you used to know her." Michael fought a full grin. "Really?" "Oh yeah. Remember a little crush you used to have back in high school?" He almost felt bad as he watched his friend go into a tailspin. He saw the acknowledgment spread across Max's face and then did feel bad. "Sorry." "Liz Parker." Max's voice was barely above a whisper. Michael nodded. "The one and only." "Unbelievable," Max muttered into his beer. Michael wondered if he told him as tactfully as he could have. He considered the options and realized that he had been as tactful as he was capable of. He shrugged and glanced around the room. "You enjoy things like this, don't you Michael?" He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow before nodding. "You need to get a hobby," Max laughed but the sound wasn't completely friendly. "You have got to find other ways to amuse yourself." "I don't need a hobby." "Then maybe you just need to get laid," Max slammed his bottle down on the bar and shook his head, laughing. * * * As the sun began to fold over the horizon, Maria DeLuca found herself mere miles away from Roswell. She wanted nothing more than a shower to wash away all the sweat and sand she had acquired in the last twenty-four hours. "Elizabeth Parker," Maria said the name out loud and wondered for the hundredth time since she had lost her, how in the hell she could have lost her. Period. "I'm a trained hunter. I hunt, I find, I get paid. And here comes this little money-stealing girl with a bad dye job, and she gets away from me." She slapped the steering wheel and turned up the stereo. As a billboard with a spaceship and two little green men on it welcomed her into the city limits of Roswell New Mexico, Maria rolled her eyes and wondered what the hell she had gotten herself into. She drove down what appeared to be the main street and veered off into the parking lot of the first hotel she saw. "First priority, a shower." She eased the gear into neutral and set the parking brake before jumping out of the jeep. She stretched raising her hands high above her head and took in the sights of the desert town. "Then I'll see what I can dig up on little Miss Liz Parker." TBC |
| Part 3 |
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