Diablo Mesa(5)

“Nora! You’re home!”

She just about jumped up as Skip came rushing in.

“So are you,” she said. “Why aren’t you at the Institute?” She had a sudden fear that Weingrau had fired him, too.

“I quit!”

Oh God, no. She tried to keep the dismay out of her voice. “You quit? Why?”

“I got a new job!”

The kettle started whistling.

“I’ll make the coffee for us,” Skip said, “and tell you all about it.” He busied himself with the grinding and filter while Nora absorbed this new information. Skip? What better job could he possibly have gotten?

“So what are you doing home?” Skip asked, spooning grounds and then pouring water into the French press.

“Um, I was fired.”

Skip halted. “What?”

“Fired.”

“What do you mean, fired? You’re their star archaeologist!”

Nora sighed. “They asked me to dig up a UFO. I said no.”

That was followed by a sudden silence. Skip went back to pouring the water. “A UFO?” he repeated feebly.

“You know that crazy Roswell conspiracy theory about a UFO crash and dead aliens? They actually wanted me to direct an excavation of the site. I told them I didn’t want to become the laughingstock of the archaeological world. One thing led to another—and Weingrau fired me.”

Skip fussed with the French press. The silence stretched on. Nora began to feel a creeping sense of unease. “Skip?”

“Yes?”

“Tell me about your new job.”

Another long silence. “Why do you think the Roswell story is so crazy? I mean, there’s a lot of evidence supporting it. A lot. There are witnesses. There are documents. Retired military officers have come forward and said they were there, that they saw the wreckage, even saw the alien remains.”

“Um, Skip? By any chance is your new job working for a guy named Tappan?”

He came over with two coffees, set them down defiantly on the table, and took a seat. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

She shook her head. This day was just getting worse and worse.

“Nora, will you listen to me for a moment? First of all, Tappan’s done a huge amount of research. This is a serious effort. Nothing flaky about it. He’s already done magnetometer, lidar, and ground-penetrating radar surveys. He’s got all the permits, everything.”

“How much is he paying you?”

“Sixteen hundred a week.”

“Is that all?”

“Hey, cut the sarcasm. This is a fantastic project—and a great opportunity. It’s going to blow the lid off the biggest government cover-up of all time. Look, I’ve been interested in the Roswell Incident and UFOs for years. You know that.” He paused. “I can’t believe you turned down the opportunity. And got yourself fired! What the hell?”

Nora took a sip of coffee and tried to organize her thoughts. “When did he hire you?”

“At noon today. He just walked into my office at the Institute, introduced himself, told me what he was doing, and asked me to join the team. He already had a letter of employment printed; I signed it, wrote my resignation, and dropped it off on my way out.”

That must have been right before she ran into Tappan in the parking lot. At least the man hadn’t gone to Skip after she said no…She sighed. It was just like Skip to rush headlong into something, get in over his head, and then go down in flames. Before he’d gotten the job at the Institute, she couldn’t even count the number of jobs he’d been fired from. How were they going to pay the mortgage?

“The guy’s a billionaire, Nora! He owns that space company, Icarus. He’s a green-energy guy, too, building giant wind turbines and solar power plants. He’s the real deal.”

“I ran into him in the parking lot after I was fired. He offered me the job again. I said no.”

Skip seized his hair with both hands in horror and rocked back and forth in his chair. “You said no twice?”

Mitty began barking.

“I can’t put digging up UFOs on my résumé. It’s too weird.”

“There’s nothing weird about a serious, professional excavation of that site,” said Skip. “We could’ve been working together. It would have been so much fun!” He pulled out his cell phone. “I’m calling Tappan right now and telling him you’ve changed your mind.”

He started punching in a number, but Nora stayed his hand. “No. Please.”

At that moment, her own cell phone rang. Relieved to get out of the conversation with Skip, she answered it—only to find Tappan on the other end.

“Nora? Am I disturbing you?”

She almost answered in the affirmative, then thought of Skip. “Can you hold the line a moment while I go somewhere private?” she asked.

Skip, immediately guessing who was on the phone, leapt up and started dancing around her, gesturing. She quickly walked into her bedroom and shut the door in his face.

“Okay,” she said.

“I wanted to apologize for ambushing you in the parking lot. I fear I didn’t give you enough breathing room to really consider my proposal.”

“You hired my brother.”