Alien in the House

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