Alien in the House

Chapter 59



WE HEADED BACK DOWNSTAIRS. Everyone was still in the ballroom, it remained unscathed, and Rahmi and Rhee looked like they’d been dressed by a former international model. In other words, they looked hot.

None of the men in the room were giving them any kinds of looks other than suspicious, truculent, angry, terrified, or, in the case of Chuckie, thoughtful. Even Gower’s normal calm and cool appeared to be affected.

“Looking good, girls. Great work, Nathalie. Guys, why so serious? And Chuckie, what’s going on in my favorite conspiratorial mind?”

He looked at the others. “We need a minute. Representative Brewer, would you be in a position to advise the Speaker of the House that there’s been an attack on Representative Martini, and that we may be coming a little later than planned?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Brewer pulled his phone out and started dialing.

“Jeff’s not really a representative yet, is he?” I asked.

“Technically he is, because he’s a presidential and gubernatorial appointee, so he assumed office the moment they appointed and he said yes,” Chuckie said. “However, it’s a little gray until he’s sworn in, which is why they wanted that to happen so quickly.”

“So I can still get out of it?” Jeff asked hopefully.

“You wish.” Chuckie jerked his head at Reader, who nodded. Reader still had Reyes’ stuffed briefcase and was also holding a folder he hadn’t had when Jeff and I left the room.

Chuckie moved us out of the ballroom. Reader, Gower, and Tim followed. We went down the hall to one of the unused music salons. Chuckie looked around and sighed. “I hate to ask this, Paul, but would you mind—”

“Checking for bugs?” Gower asked with a grin. “Not a problem.” He zipped through the room and was back in a flash. “We’re clean. And thanks for getting us out of the room. I still remember fighting the women of Beta Twelve, and other than Renata herself, not that fondly.”

“Sorry about the flashbacks, but I think they’ll be helpful.” I did. At least, I figured they’d be helpful to me, and if they could put that force field around Jeff and keep him safe, then they could move in permanently.

“Love your optimism,” Tim said.

“I don’t want to talk about Renata’s daughters,” Chuckie said. “They’ve been trained to follow the head female, and ours just laid down the law to them. I also happen to agree with Kitty—I think they’ll be useful. However, Kitty, to answer your question—I’m wondering about who shot your husband.”

“Raul the Revengeful Assassin. At least, that’s my assumption.”

Chuckie shook his head. “The shot didn’t come from the rooftops. I’m not saying that every assassin works from the roofs, but in the daylight, with a lot of people around, it’s the smartest place to be. The inside of a car that’s moving is also a smart spot. You do the drive-by, floor it, and are out of there before anyone’s registered anything.”

“So maybe he’s getting frustrated.”

“I watched everything that happened to the two of you and I’ve been replaying it in my mind. The shot came more from the side than from above. And based on the way you were positioned at the curb, it came from nearer than I think any of us realized at the time.”

“I heard a car peel out.”

“Yeah, but that might not have been the shooter’s getaway car. If most people see and hear someone being shot, their first instinct is to get far away fast.” The other men nodded their agreement.

“Okay, so what are you thinking?”

Reader had that file, and he waved it at me. “He’s thinking about the information regarding Vance’s theory.”

“Oh, so that’s not from the briefcase, you got it from Stryker?”

Reader nodded. “There are a lot of representatives dead, I’ll give you that. But they all look legitimate. Heart attacks, illnesses, accidents. Santiago and the thankfully unsuccessful attack on Jeff are the only ones that stand out as not being normal.”

Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. “Is there anything you’ve forgotten to tell me, or held back for some reason? Anything at all? It could be small.”

“Tito asked me the same thing, about Santiago. And, I did remember something that helped. So to speak. I haven’t withheld anything, but there’s a good chance I’ve forgotten something. Hang on, lemme ponder.”

“Take your time,” Jeff said. “The longer we wait, the more chance I have of being told I’m not representative material.”

“Jeff, we’ve been through this,” Gower said patiently. “You don’t have a choice.”

The rest of them started in with the “no option” reminders, while I begged my memory to do us all a solid and toss up whatever it was we needed. Chuckie was right—there was something I was pretty sure I’d forgotten. Remembered I’d forgotten to tell Reader something, which meant I’d certainly forgotten to tell Chuckie, because when I’d caught him up I hadn’t added the statement explaining that I’d forgotten to share.

Sat in a chair while the men verbally wrangled and closed my eyes. Had to think back to when I’d remembered I’d forgotten something. Where had we been? It had been today that I’d remembered my forgetfulness, meaning it was something I’d learned yesterday sometime.

“. . . don’t know where Oliver’s gotten to.” Jeff’s voice pulled me back. “We left him at Rayburn House before we went to lunch. Don’t know why we bothered to pick him up and get a civics lesson if he’s not coming with us to the swearing-in to actually provide a useful service.”

“That’s it!” Jumped up. “I remembered what I’d forgotten when we were driving to Rayburn House. I was going to call James but we were stuck in that bureaucratic nightmare it took Cliff to get us out of, and then Representative Juvonic dropped dead in front of us from that supposed heart attack I still don’t believe was real, and I completely forgot.”

The men all looked at me. “Do you remember now?” Chuckie asked finally, with hope in his tone.

“Yes, and you’re not going to like it. Eugene said that Pia Ryan—the widow of the late Jack Ryan, and another fine member of the C.I.A.—is the person who passed the information to him. Eugene said that Pia told him the envelope, which was addressed to Eugene, was sent to her and that she didn’t know who had sent it or what it contained. She said she’d figured someone had sent it to her because they knew she knew Eugene.”

“And he was actually gullible enough to believe that?” Tim asked.

“Yeah, he said she seemed to be telling the truth, and that she gave it to him at a party, in front of the rest of the Cabal of Evil. It was an envelope with a packet inside, all sealed. That’s what Christopher and his team are over at Gaultier searching for. Well, part of what they’re searching for.”

“Unless they need us, I don’t want to know,” Chuckie said. “But I need to see that information immediately, if they’ve found it or even part of it.”

“Why?” Reader asked. “I mean, why so urgently?”

Chuckie looked grim. “I think I recognize a pattern. An old pattern.”

“A pattern?” I asked. “As in, you’ve seen something like this before?”

“Seen? No. I’m too young. Everyone in this room is too young. However, I’ve read about it. The Church Committee.”

“You’re sensing a pattering about religious institutions?”

Chuckie sighed. “No. It’s the nickname for the Senate committee that investigated the C.I.A. after Watergate. It identified an encyclopedia’s worth of C.I.A. violations, including the murder of a host of people. And that’s when the ‘Heart Attack Gun’ was discovered.”

“The C.I.A. has a gun that gives people heart attacks?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah.” Chuckie didn’t look happy about it.

“You have the best job in the world.”

“Your mother recruited me for it. In part so the C.I.A. wouldn’t decide to shoot me with the Heart Attack Gun because I was too close to figuring out everything they were doing when we were in school. And I’m mentioning that again, now, to all of you, because I know Angela also recruited me to stay on the legal side of the C.I.A.’s laws.”

“And to stop the bad ones, we know, Secret Agent Man. No one’s going to tell you that you can’t marry their sister or cousin, I promise. Because if they do, I have a couple of girls who really aren’t too clear on much about Earth other than that they get to follow my commands.”

Chuckie managed a grin. “Yeah, thanks. The thing is, if this is a C.I.A. plot, there’s no rhyme or reason to it. Most of what the Church Committee found related to the overthrow of other countries, the Kennedy assassination, Watergate, and the like. But there were always reasons. Right now, I see no reasons for why anyone’s been killed, other than Santiago, who we believe was an accident, or Jeff, who could have been attacked by one of your myriad enemies.”

Tim jerked. “Distraction.”

Everyone else stared at him. I, however, knew that my replacement had learned to think like me, at least somewhat. “Oh, Megalomaniac Lad, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I can pass on that nickname, Kitty.”

“You mean you can hope I’ll forget it, but I won’t.”

“Why distract anyone from anything?” Chuckie asked. “Vance put this together. He thinks we have a serial killer, right? So why make two murders stand out so much from the others?”

“Right now, we have only one murder and one attempted murder,” Jeff pointed out. “There’s no proof that anyone else died unnaturally or because of malice aforethought.”

Reader nodded. “The only thing that’s suspicious is the number of people doing the same specific job who are dead. Otherwise, nothing in the file says foul play.”

“Unless you know that the C.I.A. has a Heart Attack Gun,” I pointed out.

“Which we now do,” Tim agreed. “I’m with Megalomaniac Girl who is, in fact, actually agreeing with me. Showing her brilliance and insight.”

“See? Wasn’t so hard to embrace your superhero role, was it?”

“You have me as the sidekick, and I know it.”

“Blah, blah, blah. Think of yourself as Nightwing to my Batman. Sort of thing.”

“You two want to stop bantering and share?” Jeff asked.

“Oh, if you insist. What Megalomaniac Lad meant was that Eugene killing Santiago—or Brewer, if he’d been successful in his mind—and someone trying to kill you is a great way to make anyone who might be linking these deaths together start thinking that maybe we don’t really have a serial killer or a massive murder plot going.”

“How would those events alter thinking?” Gower asked.

“Because they’re so obviously not part of a conspiracy. Murder someone in a really elaborate way that also ensures the killer will be caught red-handed. Shoot another one in broad daylight. Because, no worries, there are obvious, legitimate reasons for them to both be victims. Everyone focuses on other problems.”

“Like a declaration of war,” Gower said.

“We can’t declare any more,” Jeff reminded him. “Because I’ve taken this assignment.”

“You’re not sworn in yet . . .” Stopped talking as Chuckie and I looked at each other. “Meaning he’s in that gray area you mentioned. But if Jeff was dead, then what would I do?”

“What would you do if you thought he was dead because he was now a representative, might be the better question,” Reader said. “Because we need to know if Vance is right, or if Vance is playing us.”