Con realized that Mel watched Rita as much or more than the stylus.
Mel asked her some basic questions and then they were interrupted by Ty.He had some pages of printout and the notebook Rita had used to make her lists.
He gave Rita a nod, took a long look at the polygraph, shook his head, and left.
Rita looked at Con, who shrugged.He had no clue what Ty’s issue was—other than the obvious.
Mel glanced quickly through the pages, set them down asked, “Did you ever time travel to Northern Wyoming?”
Rita blinked.“Northern…Wyoming?”She frowned.“I think I’d remember that.I’ve never been to Wyoming in the past or in my own time.”
The polygraph didn’t register a lie.
“How do you explain this?”Mel removed a photograph that had been hidden between the papers and slid it to her.
Con stepped close so he could see it, too.
It was definitely Rita.“Where is that?”Con asked.
“It’s a relocation center that was used during World War Two.”
“Can I see it?”Rita held out her hand and studied the image closely.“I look like a reporter speculating on the scene behind me.I would never stand in place so easy to spot.And the background, there’s something wrong with it.”She sat back with a frown.“I’d need to see a blowup, but I think it’s a fake, too.”
“It’s not even a good fake,” Con said.He expected more from the future folks.
“Why would they do that?”Mel asked.Her gaze never left Rita’s face, even to glance at the polygraph.
Strangely, the polygraph had calmed down.
Rita frowned.“In how many of my locations did you find photographs of me?”
“That’s the only one you didn’t list,” Mel said.
“Then that must be the trap, but,” she stopped with a frown.“I wonder why that location?”
“The location might not have any particular meaning.”Mel’s tone was mild.
Rita shook her head.“They always have a reason.”
“Why fake the background,” Con asked, “if they can just travel there and get a picture.”
“It’s not on their usual routes,” Rita said.“They only use…” she hesitated.
“UFO sightings,” Mel finished for her.
“Are there actual aliens?”Con asked.He really wanted to know.
Rita chuckled, the sound sending a warm surge through him.
“I don’t know.If there are, they are still keeping them secret.”Rita frowned.“The agency would have good reason to encourage uncertainty.”
“The agency?”Con prompted.
“That’s what it’s called.The agency.”
“Succinct,” Mel observed.
And kind of sinister, Con thought.It would be hard to trace through time, too.
