“Oh, I care, Wakefield. If you all got in trouble, do you think I wouldn’t have been dragged in? MIT would have found a way to expel all of us. It would have been very public, and I wouldn’t have gotten a good job. And if it comes out now, how we paid our tuition, all that, it will still cause me trouble.”

“Relax, Carleen, you weren’t a witness. You’ve graduated. The publicity might not hurt you at all.”

“I thought you all agreed to stay out of it! It’s too dangerous!” She looked really upset. Carleen always had an opinion on everything.

“It’s bothering me that they still can’t find the shooter,” Elliott said.

“No. You can’t be that stupid,” Carleen said. “You can’t be thinking of going to the police after all this time!”

He retreated into himself and said nothing. It was none of her business, but she knew all about it. The only way he knew how to deal with her incessant questioning was to be silent. Unfortunately, that made Carleen furious every time.

It had been bad luck, running into her. All thought of picking her up, getting laid-okay, that had been in his mind-fled. Where the hell was his car?

“Well?”

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Yeah, calm down.” She put her hand on his arm, but that wasn’t working either, he could feel the crackle of her edgy energy even better that way. She licked her lips again.

“So,” she said.

Elliott thought she was pissed off but still hoping. She really did want to go with him. He’d never understood Carleen, and he really didn’t have the energy to start now. He was weary of her. “So.”

“Still obsessed with predicting the primes?” Carleen said. “Still addicted to dreams of greatness? Got anywhere yet?”

“Got to go. Places.” The Neon or Echo, or whatever the little blue car was, had rolled up. Finally! A chunky, red-faced valet got out and gave Elliott his keys.

Elliott handed him a few bucks.

“I could use a ride back to my hotel,” Carleen said behind him.

“Sorry. In a rush. I’m going straight to the airport in Reno.” He opened the car door and climbed inside.

For a minute she didn’t move, absorbing the insult. Then she got up and stood by his open door and said, “That wasn’t a pass, that was just me needing a ride somewhere.”

“Next time,” he said. He tried to pull the door closed, but she held on to it, eyes flashing.

“Silke would never have dumped Raj for you. The way you mooned around after her was disgusting, a real turn-off. I don’t care how brilliant you think you are. You suck.”

“I need to go, Carleen.” He pulled again. She jerked the door back so that it was open. The valet, arms crossed, watched, wearing a slight smile.

“I have a boyfriend now, several boyfriends, and maybe this will surprise you, Robot, but I don’t give a shit about you anymore.”

He disliked the nickname. He hadn’t heard it in so long, he had almost forgotten it.

“I wasn’t hitting on you,” she repeated. “Is that clear? Is it?”

The valet exchanged a sympathetic male glance with Elliott.

“You’re very direct. It’s admirable, in fact, how you state your mind,” Elliott said.

“Fuck you! I hate you.”

Elliott said, “I’m getting close to a proof.” He couldn’t help himself. He patted his chest, where he kept the notebook.

“God! Same old crap!” She made a guttural sound in her throat. “You don’t have anybody else to tell, so you tell me! Screw you, Robot, you big loser.” Her eyes filled with bright angry tears.

Elliott left Carleen standing behind the car with her fists clenched at her sides. He pulled into the neon boulevard with its miles of traffic.

She had got to him, talking that way about him and Silke. He had never mooned after Silke. In fact, he hadn’t known that Carleen knew how much he…

What now? Elliott, who did not have to go to the airport yet, got off the main drag and drove down a dark winding road until he came to some subdivision where the streets were empty.

It was self-castigation time. He couldn’t talk reasonably for five minutes with Carleen, after four years at college and many successful blackjack trips together. The craziest thing was that she had tried to pick him up, or something.

He was too lame to even drive her back to her room, a girl he knew and once loved. Well, okay, he made love to her, not the same as loving her but almost. He hadn’t loved her, be honest.

Actually, he’d never made love to her either, now that he was telling himself the truth. But he could have, she would have let him. She had wanted him. She had been interested in his theories and she had been willing to listen. He’d even seen the glint in her eye when he said just now that he’d almost finished the proof. She knew what that meant, and she was still interested no matter what she said.

But he’d found reasons to chase her away. As usual.

He’d never felt so lonely.

It was getting to be a mantra.

At a strip mall along the forested road he saw a Mexican restaurant with red and yellow and green pepper lights strung around the front. Fuck it, I’m hungry, he thought.

Inside, he almost thought better of it. Except for the cooks and the waiter, who scowled at him, the place was empty. When the waiter threw down Elliott’s beer in front of him, Elliott said, “If you want to close up, just say so and I’ll leave.”

The waiter didn’t answer; he just walked away and stood behind the counter, ignoring Elliott. Fingering the wad of cash in his pocket, Elliott drank his beer. His notebook nestled reassuringly in his pocket, and he thought of getting it out to review some figures, but he didn’t. Pretty soon greasy chiles rellenos arrived on a plate with room-temperature rice and refried beans. Elliott ate until he thought he’d explode.

When he came outside, he saw a guy in a black leather jacket and baseball cap bending down, looking at the half-bald thirteen-inch wheels of the rental car with a flashlight. When the dude saw him, he gave Elliott a hard stare. Then he turned and left, leisurely, as if he knew Elliott wouldn’t question him or follow him. The way he moved as he walked off into the night scared Elliott.

It couldn’t be! He stepped back into the shelter of the restaurant and held on to the door, breathing hard.

So someone had been watching while he and Carleen wrangled.

“We’re closed,” the waiter said.

“Just-one second. I have to use the head.” He wasn’t ready to go out there yet. Locking himself into the bathroom, Elliott pulled out his cell phone and called Silke. “He’s here,” he said fast into the phone. “The guy who robbed us at Tahoe. The shooter. He followed me from a casino.”

“Elliott? Do you know it’s three in the morning? What’s the matter?” came the sleepy voice with its accent that took the r way inside the mouth.

“You are probably aware that most of what happens on a daily basis follows a pattern, a predictable one,” he said. “Today’s unique. The ski-mask guy has found me.”

“Hang on a minute.” He heard a male sigh in the background, all the way from Boston. Raj, next pillow over. Then Silke got back on. “I have turned on the light,” she said. “If this is one of your persecution delusions, I will never talk to you again.”

“I’m giving you facts, nothing more. I made a few bucks and I got hungry so I stopped at this restaurant…”

“Are you playing blackjack again? I thought we agreed…”

“Just a hand or two.”

“Just wait a minute. Back up. Elliott, where are you exactly? Vegas? Atlantic City?”

“Tahoe.”

Silence on the other end of the line while she digested the information and passed it along to Raj. Well, he had wanted to shock her earlier, and now he had gotten his wish.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s been two years. I wanted to find out whether it was all over. It’s been bothering me.”