Alien in the House

Chapter 61



WE DECIDED TO TAKE the time Brewer had bought us to do what Christopher wanted. We all raced off for the Zoo. I stayed with the humans while Jeff went on ahead with the A-Cs, so he and Gower could speak at hyperspeed to catch Christopher, White, and Raj up on what we’d learned.

“What’s in the briefcase?” Chuckie asked as we humans or mostly-humans headed for the walkway.

“All the papers and such Jeff and I found in the various offices we searched earlier today, Santiago’s included. Probably nothing but trash, but we figured it was better to take what we could find and throw it away here than to miss something important.”

“I’m finding it hard to believe that all of this is going on because of a few bills going through the House,” Reader said.

“It would depend on what’s in the bills,” Chuckie said. “But while there are a lot of bills relating to the A-Cs circulating, none of them are up for a vote yet, at least as far as I know.”

“Some of the reps killed were from the Foreign Affairs and Homeland Security committees. Per Irene at Rayburn House, Foreign Affairs has lost four members.”

“Could be related to what those committees are working on,” Chuckie said. “But the research shows that we have reps dead from a wide variety of committees. Transportation lost several, too. Over twenty dead means a lot of committees are down members.”

“I’m having a harder time figuring out how that Vance guy is the only one who’s put this thing together,” Tim said.

“Yeah, I know, but he’s claiming that he’s been hiding his smarts because they’re not as appreciated as political sway.”

“That’s true enough,” Chuckie said. “But Tim brings up the relevant point—why Vance, versus Oliver, who looks for things like this?”

“Maybe he’s not handling his sudden fame well,” Reader said thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?” Chuckie asked.

Reader shrugged. “When we were all outed, Jeff brought Oliver along with him and Alexander to the big summit meeting where Alexander laid down the law, remember?” Chuckie nodded. “Well, that sent a statement. Oliver’s still with the World Weekly News, which went from being ‘the world’s biggest rag’ to ‘the only paper telling the truth’ overnight. He’s become something of a celebrity.”

“Vance said as much in the limo earlier today,” I added.

“And Oliver was embarrassed by Vance’s fawning,” Reader said.

“True. So, okay, MJO has probably been focused on handling his new popularity and fielding questions about us, versus looking for new conspiracies. But then, why was he snooping around the Embassy last night?”

“That was still all about us,” Tim said. “I think James is right. So the two people most likely to pay attention to these deaths have been incredibly distracted.”

“The first death was right after we were outed,” Reader confirmed, looking at the file. “Huh. That’s interesting.”

“The first one was the guy Santiago replaced, wasn’t it?” I asked as we waited for the elevator and my mind spun the facts around.

“Yeah. I know that expression, girlfriend. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that Megalomaniac Lad is right again. I think we do have distraction going on, and I’m willing to say that the Mastermind, or at least this Operation’s Mastermind, waited until he or she had the perfect storm of distractions going on to launch. If over twenty Reps had died like this two years ago, both Chuckie and MJO would have been on top of it.”

“If your timeline’s right, then the Mastermind also waited until the President suspended this year’s elections,” Tim said. “Whether that’s because they expected some of those now dead to lose their elections, another reason, or just convenient coincidence we don’t know.”

“And who knows if we’ll find out,” Reader added.

“I can buy all that,” Chuckie said slowly. “But we still don’t have a lot to go on.”

“Well, I also think we have a couple of key points, one of which is that whoever’s in charge likely knows you and Oliver, or at least your underground reputations, so to speak, because, elections suspended or no, I think they chose this plot’s start time specifically to stay off your radars. And the other is this—why did whoever try to kill Jeff before he was sworn in?” The elevator arrived.

“Convenience, accessibility, guard was down,” Chuckie ticked off. He motioned for me to go in the elevator.

“Stupid placement and timing, random location, and guard wasn’t down since we’d had three people die around us in less than twenty-four hours,” I shared as I stayed put. Wanted us to think this through ourselves, because I felt we were getting somewhere. The others would add in soon enough.

Chuckie sighed as the elevator doors closed. “In your own time, Kitty.”

“As it should be.”

“I’ll play,” Tim said. “What if the entire point of all of this is to ensure that the person representing our district in New Mexico isn’t pro-alien? The former rep is killed and a really anti-alien guy runs for the position. Santiago was a teacher and wasn’t expected to even come close, let alone win in a landslide. So, maybe our Mastermind isn’t happy that he’s elected. Maybe Eugene lied and was always after Santiago.”

“I’d say there’s a high probability that at least part of the point is to ensure an anti-alien rep is in place. But I think we have more going on—you wouldn’t want to kill as many people as have died, because fewer would make it all seem less suspect. And, if everyone thought the former rep died of natural causes, Eugene killing Santiago doesn’t scream ‘conspiracy.’”

“But the poison was put into Brewer’s glass,” Reader reminded us. “And the only reason Santiago drank it was that he’d almost choked to death, which is not something anyone could have predicted.”

A thought occurred. “Hang on.” Conveniently my phone was still in my hand. Dialed. This wasn’t a discussion I wanted to have over the intercom system.

“Yes, Kitty darling? How may I be of service?”

“Pierre, who was in charge of the drinks portion of our Dinner Party of Death? Specifically, who was in charge of making sure the water glasses were kept filled?”

“Hmmm . . . let me verify. Ah, here it is. Annette Dier. She was part of Chef’s Beverage Team. Why?”

That sounded familiar. “Spell that last name please, Pierre.” He did. Memory shared that this matched the name of the SWAT guy I’d spoken to when I was going to interview Eugene. “Did Chef vet his choices for safety within our Embassy?”

“Oh, yes, absolutely. Everyone had to go through a screening.”

“Was she in charge, or just the water girl?”

“Just one of the beverage staff, but she was assigned to your portion of the room for water refills during dinner.”

“I’d like to see her screening results, Pierre. In the most extreme, ‘we will accuse you of trying to murder our people and destroy our party’ way if Chef is unwilling to provide confidential information. In fact, if Chef doesn’t come across with this info immediately, please call Chuckie and have him take Chef into custody. In the meantime, we need this Annette Dier’s info pronto. Send it to the Computer Lab.”

“On it in less than a second.” We hung up.

“What was that all about?” Reader asked.

“You know, what are the odds that we would have two people randomly at our Embassy, doing very different jobs that let them in or around it without their being invited guests, both named Dier? With the oddest spelling of that name I’ve ever seen?”

“Low with an odd name,” Chuckie said. “Who were they?”

“One was a guy in a SWAT uniform. Until right now I’d have said he was with the SWAT team, but I don’t remember seeing him once Eugene was shot. The other was the girl who was in charge of filling up the water in our section of the dining room.” My brain suggested I play the same name game I had during Operation Assassination. “You know what Dier is spelled backward? Or rather, spelled what I’m going to bet is the right way?”

“Reid,” Chuckie growled. He pulled out his phone and dialed. “I want all the information in our file on Leventhal Reid, most specifically on known associates and next of kin. Yes. Yes, faster than that. Because I’m going to be there in less than a minute and I want that information waiting for me the minute I walk into the room, Stryker.” He hung up. “I hate where this is going.”

“Not as much as I do. How did this slip past us? I know we ran extensive security and background on everyone.”

“I’m betting we find that the water girl was a late addition,” Reader said. “I’m more concerned with the guy who was with the SWAT team.”

“I’ll ask Officer Melville about him. I’m betting he just showed up and blended in.”

“For all we know, he’s the guy who shot Eugene,” Tim said. “Sure the Dingo thought it was Raul, but it’s not like they were standing next to the shooter.”

“No, the Dingo and Surly Vic were definitely on different roofs from whoever shot Eugene. And, you know, Dier the Fake SWAT guy could also be doubling as Raul the Pissed Off Assassin.”

“This is all bad and indicates a larger conspiracy, or maybe even a different conspiracy, but I still don’t see how you could know that anyone other than Brewer would be drinking that water,” Chuckie said. “And much of the theory we’re all talking about hinges on that fact.”

“Maybe whoever put Eugene in motion and ensured Annette Dier was on water duty knew Brewer well enough to know that the man doesn’t care for water all that much and would rather drink just about anything else, preferably wine. Somewhere along the way, someone was going to ask for a water refill, she wasn’t going to be around to do it, and Brewer was going to offer his glass.”

“It’s a stretch to assume that drinker would be Santiago,” Tim said.

“Not really. Santiago comes from a desert region. We all drink water like crazy in Arizona and New Mexico because it’s so dry. And Santiago was a teetotaler, meaning he was going to drink his water down because that’s what he drinks all the time. With the guarantee that Brewer wasn’t going to drink his.”

“It’s still a stretch to think that Santiago would be the one killed,” Chuckie said.

“Him, Brewer, me . . . I think if any one of us had died the Mastermind would have counted it as a big mark in the win column. Anyone else dies, well, still probably a win.”

“Does the man really not drink water?” Reader asked.

“Not really. He drinks wine. Or tea. He likes tea . . .”

“What?” Chuckie asked.

“The only reason Jeff’s alive is that we called the Brewers for help at Rayburn House, and Edmund called Cliff, which was the only reason we got into Jeff’s office. Juvonic was killed while we were waiting for the Brewers. Then we went to The Teetotaler, which was a place the Brewers have just discovered, and the owner was so thrilled to have us he gave us all gifts. Those gifts were in Jeff’s coat pocket. But if you knew us, you’d assume they’d be in my purse.”

“Why weren’t they?” Reader asked.

“I have too much stuff in my purse, because Jeff and I searched every empty office at Rayburn House and took anything that wasn’t nailed down. But no one would know we’d done that, because we used hyperspeed and I know we weren’t spotted by anyone. So there was no way in the world to know what we’d be doing or where we’d be going. Unless, frankly, you were following the Brewers.”

“You think they’re involved?”

“No. I think we need to put guards on Edmund Brewer. I think he’s going to be the next one targeted.”