Alien in the House (30 page)

W
E STOPPED RUNNING.

“What the
hell
is that bird doing here?” Jeff managed to keep his voice down, for which I was proud. I hadn't screamed when Bruno appeared out of thin air. I was proud of that, too.

“Guarding.”

“How did he get here?”

“He came with us in the car.”

“Really. Then why didn't I see him?”

“He doesn't trust Vance?” Bruno did a head bob, wing flap, scratched with his foot, then stared at me. “Ah, no, that's not it. Vance seems okay. Bruno didn't want you freaking out about him coming along, he knows the game is afoot and therefore needs to be with us at all times, and he feels that it'll be easier for us, you in particular, if he's incognito.”

Bruno nudged against me to share that I was indeed the most insightful of chicks, then disappeared.

“I'm never getting used to that. I'm just telling you now.”

“Hence why Bruno's in Stealth Mode. He wants us being really cautious here, and quiet, and going very slowly.”

We walked by Juvonic's office and Bruno's concerns were explained—there were people in there. People who were about to have a shock, I was pretty sure, but not as big a one as me and Jeff appearing inside their offices out of nowhere would have been.

We walked on at human speeds down the rest of this hallway. We were passed by someone who I took to be a page—he was young, had an upset expression, and he was walking fast. I turned to watch him—yep, he went into Juvonic's office.

After we passed the Bearer of Bad News we weren't that far from the lobby. I ensured I leaned on Jeff and he had his arm around me and had the briefcase in his free hand. We definitely had the “not feeling awesome” look going. The issue was whether Irene would remember that Jeff hadn't come in carrying anything or not.

There were paramedics here now, though not the ones from last night, so we had that going for us. There were also police, and not the K-9 squad. The people from Juvonic's office came running in behind us. Which was nice, because they caused a small amount of chaos, which made it simple for Jeff to hand Reader the briefcase and ask him to hold it.

Reader having possession meant that as the Head of Field, he didn't actually have to surrender anything to the police. He could if he wanted to play nicely, but if he didn't so want to do, he didn't so have to do.

Our absence was explained and the police were quite sympathetic to my reaction to seeing a man die in front of me. We were witnesses and Jeff was one of the people who'd brought the body inside, so the police wanted our statements, since they already had Reader's and the boys'. We didn't have a lot of information to give, and we were done quickly. No one mentioned the briefcase.

Irene was still basically a mess. I went to her and gave her a hug. “Thank you so much. We cleaned up, so I don't think anyone will know I was upstairs barfing my guts out. Well, other than the police. But you know what I mean.”

She nodded. “Your clearance arrived. After the police,” she added. “I'm so sorry you had to witness this. If your husband's clearances had been done right away, you all would have been upstairs.”

“That's true.” I hugged her again. “But then you'd have had to go through that alone, so, even though I got sick, I'm glad we were here to help you.”

“You're so sweet, thank you. Your young men have been so helpful, especially Vance.” Vance was with the Brewers and the boys. She gave him a little wave. He waved back and blew her a kiss.

Irene was younger than Mom but older than me for sure. I didn't call her as Vance's type. And she didn't seem to be taking this sexually. True to his own hype, there appeared to be more to Vance than met the eye.

The paramedics declared the death a heart attack. No one mentioned anything about marks on the victim's neck. The police told us all we were free to go. Which was good. Because I wanted to go. But I had one last question for Irene.

“Who finally cleared us to go up?”

“Oh, Representative Brewer solved it. He called someone in Homeland Security and they basically had a fit that you'd been waiting so long.”

“Cliff Goodman?”

“Yes! He was outraged you'd been kept waiting. I believe he's going to be investigating what happened.”

“That's nice.” It was. It hadn't even occurred to me to call Cliff to see if he could help with this. Well, at least Brewer had had the foresight.

My phone rang. “Excuse me.” Pulled it out. “Hello?”

“Kitty, it's Cliff. Are you and Jeff alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks for clearing us to get into our offices.”

“No problem, that was unreal, bureaucracy in action, but that's not why I'm calling. Ed said that someone had been hurt.”

“No, someone's dead. Representative Juvonic.”

“I don't really know him, but that's awful news.”

“We don't know him either, and now we never will. The paramedics say he had a heart attack.”

Filled Cliff in on what had happened before I'd gotten “sick,” leaving out any mention of a potential sniper, me seeing Juvonic touch his neck right before he went down, my suspicions that Juvonic had been murdered, or the fact that Jeff and I had just rifled through a lot of other people's offices. Chuckie trusted Cliff so I trusted Cliff, but there was no reason to bring anyone else into my theories right now, especially someone who might not like the idea that we'd gone through those offices without any official sanction.

However, the rest of it, including the number of times we were told we couldn't go to Jeff's office, I gave him in Technicolor detail. “So, now I don't know what we should do.”

“You know, you have a couple hours before Jeff gets sworn in. Why don't you guys just go somewhere and relax? The work can wait, and it's not like Jeff's going to get caught up today anyway. You've had a hell of a couple of days, Kitty. Take a break and get a breather.”

“The Brewers did want to go to lunch.”

“See? Do it.”

“You want to join us?”

“I'd love to. Unfortunately, I can't. But I'll see you at the ceremony.”

“Sounds good. And, Cliff, thanks. We'll worry about Jeff's office later.”

“Good plan.”

We hung up and I joined the others. “Cliff says we should stop trying to be responsible and just have lunch and hang out before the swearing-in ceremony.”

Nathalie nodded. “Just think, if I'd convinced you to play hooky earlier, you'd have missed all this.”

“We'll never say no again,” Jeff said with a short laugh.

“We need somewhere we can seat a lot of people,” I added.

“Not to worry,” Nathalie said as she linked her arm through mine. “I know a perfect place.”

O
LIVER CHOSE TO STAY
at Rayburn to get all the details for his now front-page story. Everyone else decided getting out of here was a great plan.

Despite my being almost pathologically against the idea of walking outside, unprotected in the streets, the Brewers were all for it. So it was either go along or tell them why I wanted to remain safely inside.

We went along, Len in the lead, Kyle bringing up the rear, with me trying to surreptitiously look up and keep an eye out for snipers on roofs, potentially carrying blowguns armed with tiny, killer darts. After I tripped three times, had to stop that.

The third trip meant that Jeff took me away from Nathalie, under the quite accurate assessment that someone needed to keep me from falling flat on my face, and he was probably the best person to do that.

Which was fine, because I not only got to walk with my husband, but I got to walk with my husband while he was wearing the trench and fedora. “I love this look.”

Jeff shook his head with a laugh. “Whatever makes you happy, baby, I'm all for.”

Jeff taking me away from Nathalie also mixed up who was walking where. So Brewer had gone up with Len, presumably because he knew where we were going, Vance was in the rear, talking with Kyle, and Reader was walking ahead of us with Nathalie. They were chatting up a storm.

Could understand why the Brewers wanted to walk—the place we were going to wasn't that far away from where we'd been. There was a little row of cute restaurants near the Capitol South Metro station. Brewer led us into one.

“The Teetotaler? Really?”

Nathalie heard me and laughed. “It's new,” she said as we went in. “The owners started it after they found out that there was a whole new group of people on Earth who couldn't drink. It's an alcohol-free restaurant, and it specializes in a wide variety of teas, as well.”

“Plus the owners like golf,” Brewer added. “So it's a joke on at least three levels. Oh, and don't worry, gentlemen—they serve food that can handle male appetites here, not just dainty sandwiches for the girls.”

“Thank God, because after spending a half an hour upstairs, I'm hungry.” Well, I was hungry from the searching. And I figured everyone would appreciate my not actually sharing that I'd supposedly been throwing up, the other patrons and the restaurant's owners for certain. “But how did you guys find this?”

Brewer shrugged. “Despite owning one of the most successful wineries in Northern California, we don't drink with every meal, and we enjoy finding new restaurants first.”

This didn't surprise me all that much. What did surprise me was that Reader sat next to Nathalie and they were still in animated conversation.

We were early for lunch, which was good, because a table for eight in here filled up a good third of the restaurant. The owners were beside themselves with excitement to be serving their first A-C in the form of Jeff. Apparently no one had told them that the majority of A-Cs ate at their Base commissaries or at home. Then again, they hadn't asked, either.

Jeff was good-naturedly embarrassed by all the fuss, but thankfully we liked tea so there was happiness all around. The owners, Rosemarie and Douglas, asked if they could take a picture for their wall. Jeff shot me the “help me” look. I took off his hat and fixed his hair. Hey, I was a good wife that way.

Picture taken and Jeff thoroughly embarrassed, we ordered. While waiting for our orders and enjoying the tea, I finally had to ask. “James, I didn't know you and Nathalie knew each other.”

He grinned. “We do, but from way back.”

Nathalie nodded. “We modeled together, oh, years ago now. In Milan and Paris.”

“And other places,” Reader added, which sent the two of them into gales of laughter.

They were both former international models, so this didn't surprise me all that much. What did was that Reader had never mentioned it. “Why didn't you say something? Before today, I mean?”

Reader shrugged. “We haven't seen each other in years. And I didn't make the connection.”

“I did, the moment I saw James last night,” Nathalie said. “But then he's still as beautiful today as he was when we were teenagers. Possibly more beautiful. However, last night was not a good time to renew an old acquaintance.”

This earned her the cover boy grin. “Nathalie still looks as gorgeous as ever, but I knew her by her maiden name.”

“No, no,” she said with another laugh. “You knew me by my
working
name. Kitty and everyone else here know me by Gagnon-Brewer, but my working name was Nathalie Belle. I don't share that with many people here.”

“I knew you were a model.”

“Yes, but you didn't need to know more.” She looked down at her tea. “It's not as if I was going to drag you to my home and make you look at my portfolio,” she said with a little laugh.

The way she said this made me look at Brewer out of the corner of my eye. He didn't look annoyed or angry or bored; his expression was a sort of sad resignation, as though he expected the conversation to move on, right now.

I was many things, but despite much of the evidence, stupid wasn't one of them. “You still have your portfolio? I'd love to see it sometime.”

Nathalie looked up, clearly shocked and incredibly pleased. Brewer looked surprised and also pleased. Yep, I'd called that one right. The group they were running in liked having a former model in their company, but they didn't actually
care
about what she'd done as a model. She was a nice addition, not as good as an actress, less worrisome than a rock star, but not a politician.

“Be flattered,” Reader said. “She's never asked to see mine.”

“Oh, I had your best shot up in my room for a long time, James.”

Jeff groaned. “Not the Calvin Klein ad again. Every time I think she's forgotten about that, it comes right back up.”

The group laughed and our food arrived. True to the Brewers' promises, it was tasty and filling. While we ate, Brewer engaged Jeff and the boys talking about sports, and Nathalie talked fashion with me, Reader, and Vance. Turned out that Vance had seen her portfolio. Also turned out that he was, out of all her friends in town, the only one who had. It shocked me that Gadoire hadn't gone for it, too, in hopes of dragging Nathalie into their Bed of Love, but perhaps he was clear that he wasn't ever going to be her type.

Realized I was enjoying spending time with the Brewers and really reassessing Vance and how deep his waters might be running.

Also realized that the Brewers were ensuring that we didn't discuss the events from earlier in the day or the prior evening. Wasn't sure why, but put it down to them wanting this to be a fun, relaxing, really-get-to-know-you lunch. Even though we were in the middle of trying to figure out what was going on, having a couple hours without stress worked for me.

We finished up and Rosemarie and Douglas asked for another picture, this one a group shot. We obliged. Brewer insisted on paying for lunch for all of us, which Jeff strenuously opposed, but Brewer won on the basis of Jeff's being sworn in later.

Douglas then presented each of us with nice, rectangular, stainless steel tins stuffed with an exclusive, and tightly packed, special tea that they blended themselves. He refused to allow any of us to pay for them.

Hugs all around, we all left. Checked the prices as we left the restaurant—the tea we'd been gifted was very pricey. Opened my purse to put our tins in it and realized I had too many Poofs. And tea this expensive should be taken care of. “Jeff, I need to go back and get a bag. My purse is too full to hold these, and so is the briefcase.”

“Nah, don't bother them. This coat's loaded with pockets.” He took the tins from me and put them into an inner left pocket.

“Wow, I can't even see much of an extra bulge. Or maybe I'm just used to your pecs bulging under normal circumstances.”

“Hilarious.” But he looked pleased.

We strolled back toward the Capitol. The rain had stopped while we were inside so the streets were wet but it wasn't so bad. Managed to avoid any big puddles so my shoes didn't get wrecked.

Still kept an eye out for rooftop snipers, but saw none. Didn't feel better—just assumed they'd moved down to street level.

It was a longer walk back to the Capitol building than it had been to get to the Teetotaler. Hoped my feet weren't going to be killing me by the time we got there—in the heels vs. Converse battle, comfy Converse won any round where a lot of walking was required.

“Need me to get a cab or want to take the subway the rest of the way?” Jeff asked, as we neared the Metro station. We were on the opposite side of the street from the station and its big parking lot. Seemed like more work to get over there, go down, get tickets, and wait than just walk on. Same with hailing a cab.

“Wow, picked up my internal whining, huh?”

“It's an easy guess. I'd be happy to carry you, but I think people would talk.”

“Haters gonna hate, true enough.”

As I said this, a car horn went off near us and a gray limo pulled up alongside the curb. The front window rolled down. “Hey baby, want a ride?” Jerry called from the passenger's seat. Tim, who was driving, waved.

Now the back window rolled down. “Is there a reason the eight of you are walking?” Chuckie asked. “The Pontifex and I are just curious.”

“We wanted to get good and sweaty before Jeff's sworn in. It's a nice-ish day.”

Chuckie and Gower laughed. “Would you like a lift?” Gower asked.

“Like you wouldn't believe.”

The others joined us. “There's not enough room for all of us in there,” Brewer pointed out.

Jeff shrugged. “Let's put the girls in, I'm sure they'll appreciate it.”

“James, too,” I said. Wanted the briefcase in our complete control. “And Vance,” I added mostly because he looked like his feelings were about to be hurt.

“We'll stay with the Congressmen,” Len said when Reader hesitated.

Nathalie gave Brewer a quick kiss and got in. Had Vance go in after her. Reader handed the briefcase to Chuckie as I kissed Jeff. “Be careful.”

“Always, baby. You too.”

“I think I can manage a three block car ride.”

Jeff grinned. “You never can tell.”

Started to get in, then something dawned on me. “Oh, hey, do you want to give me the tea tins since I'm driving now?” I asked as I turned back.

Jeff, who'd bent to help me, straightened up so my head didn't knock into his. He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by two things.

Bruno appeared, screaming, to slam in between us. He spread his wings, hard, and shoved us both aside. As he did, I heard a shot ring out.

Jeff slammed back against the limo, then fell to the ground.