Alien in the House

mouth.”
    “Ah . . .” Damn, lying to Reader didn’t work. Had Mom been giving him tips? And he was still calling me ambassador. Wasn’t sure if he was doing it to remind me that I was supposed to be more mature and in charge or because he was too angry to use my name. Decided now wasn’t the time to find out.
    Saved by the bell. Well, really saved by Michael who rejoined us, his arm around Caroline in a very protective manner. “James, I want to take Caroline home. She’s been attacked, is freezing, and I don’t want her getting sick or being in any more danger than she’s been in already.”
    “M’okay,” Caroline croaked out. “Jus’ cld.”
    “Yeah, get her home. We can get all the information from Amy, right?” Reader asked her.
    “R-r-r-ight. But ’m fine.”
    “Caro Syrup, you sound like a frog. You need some hot tea with honey or something.”
    “I’ll take care of it,” Michael said. “Everyone else might want to get inside, too.” With that he bundled Caroline down the stairs.
    Reader sighed. “Where were we? Or should I say, what were you lying to me about before we were interrupted?”
    “Is this guy trustworthy?” Vance asked.
    “Yes.”
    “The rest of them?” Vance waved his arm to indicate everyone on the roof.
    “As far as I know, yes.” I hoped, anyway. With Hamlin gone and Malcolm felled by some mystery ailment, Hamlin’s intel became more suspect.
    “Great. Then I’m going to tell everyone my theory, Kitty. Mostly because in the time I’ve been trying to tell it to you we’ve done everything other than discuss what I think is a lot more important than why we’re on this roof, no offense to you or your friend intended,” he said to Amy.
    “None taken,” Amy said in a tone indicating she was lying like a wet rug.
    “Good.” Vance heaved a sigh. “I think we have a high-level government conspiracy going on.”
    Everyone snorted, even Jeremy. “When don’t we?” Reader asked. “Per Reynolds, we have at least a dozen active at any time.”
    “Well, there’s one more, and I don’t know that anyone else—other than Mister Joel Oliver for whom this may be old news—has put events together like I have.”
    “We’re listening, Vance.” Well, I was. Couldn’t speak for the others.
    “Great. I think someone is murdering members of the House of Representatives indiscriminately.”
    “Eugene’s accidental murder of the wrong guy was indiscriminate but—”
    “
No.
” Vance sounded upset. Reminded myself that he’d already told me that Gadoire thought he was an idiot for this idea of his. Also reminded myself that most of the time when I forwarded a theory I was told I was an idiot right up until the moment my theory proved to be correct. “It started earlier this year, and it’s picking up speed.”
    Oliver shook his head. “This isn’t something on my radar. Sorry to disappoint.”
    “It’s real,” Vance said, voice clipped. “And the longer it’s ignored, the more people are going to die.”
    “Then why isn’t this on anyone’s radar?” Reader asked.
    “Because every death looks natural or accidental. But they’re starting to increase in number. It began with the representative who Santiago ended up replacing.”
    “Representative Bowers died in office,” Oliver said. “Literally. Had a heart attack at his desk.”
    “Sure he did,” Vance replied. “An assisted heart attack. The killer waited about a month, then there were more. A couple here, one there, a few more. This month alone we’ve already lost four. All seem natural or accidental. But they aren’t.”
    Reader shook his head. “If the best investigative reporter out there isn’t in on this, why should we listen to you? This just sounds like another crackpot theory.”
    “My theories tend to sound like this,” I reminded him. “When I first put them out there.”
    “What, you’ve jumped on board this crazy train?” Reader sounded like he was warring between surprise and frustration.
    “Maybe. I mean, Vance has done research. I think we should look at it.”
    “Yes, you should,” Vance said. “If this goes on, every member of the House is going to die.”
    “Everyone dies,” White pointed out.
    “I mean prematurely,” Vance snapped. “And you know it. You need to run the numbers like I have—once you do, you’ll see a pattern, and that pattern is intentional.”
    Reader still didn’t look convinced. Not a problem. “Look, Commander, you don’t