Alien Proliferation

couldn’t get clearer than that.” Another thought occurred. “Open it, what’s the CD inside?”
    Jeff did. “Not the Beatles.” He handed the case to me and took Jamie.
    “Chuckie, get your guys to open the CD they found.” I stared at the disk.
    “On it already.” He was back on the phone. “Really? That’s weird. Okay, thanks, hold onto it. Yeah, run it for everything.” Chuckie hung up. “What was inside the Adam Ant case was a CD of your wedding video.”
    “Huh? We had a wedding video?”
    “Yeah.” Reader ran into the room. “Remember? Our favorite ‘investigative reporter’ did all the photos and video at your wedding.”
    This was true. “But Mister Joel Oliver told me the video didn’t come out. The World Weekly News only got the stills.” I tried not to think about our wedding pictures having been in the tabloids nine months ago. Fortunately, as far as the photography had gone, we’d been boring and hadn’t even made the front page.
    Reader shrugged. “I paid him to lie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you and Jeff at the baby’s induction ceremony. I gave Tim and the flyboys backup copies, just in case.”
    “Why?”
    “Because they were the most unlikely to want to watch it early.”
    “Can’t argue with the logic.” I looked back at the CD Tim had put into the Beatles’ case. “He was freaked and scared, but he took the time to set this up and drop it off. Why?”
    “What? We’re all waiting for you to tell us why and what it is you’re looking at.” Jeff sounded annoyed, but I knew it was because he was worried.
    “It’s the Beastie Boys’ License to Ill .”
    Thudding silence. Waited for the sound of crickets. Amazing, none. “What’s that mean?” Jeff asked finally.
    “Hang on . . . I have to think the timing through.” Which meant, out loud. “Okay, Alicia was in the air on her way back from Paris when we went into lockdown three days ago. Gladys, would she have just gotten in the air?”
    “Most likely.”
    “Double-check that she was on the flight she was supposed to be.”
    Heard a sigh. “Hmmm. No, Commander. She was bumped from the flight.”
    “Mole.” Chuckie sounded like he was getting a migraine.
    “No,” Gladys said. “She was flying on her airline pass. It’s here in the records. She was on standby, therefore. She was bumped twice. Only got into the air, in reality . . . hmmm . . . last night. Flight landed at JFK this morning, then at Saguaro International in Pueblo Caliente this evening.”
    “Why the hell was she in Paris? Without Crawford?” Chuckie asked. “And don’t say coincidence.”
    “She was nowhere around when we were dealing with the superbeing cluster,” Jeff said. “And as far as I know, Tim didn’t wander off to meet up with her, either.”
    “He didn’t,” Reader confirmed. “Oh, hell. I have an idea.” He closed his eyes. “They’re getting married soon. She has free airline flights. Fashion capital.”
    “She was shopping for her wedding dress.” I wanted to run around and do something, but I knew Tim was counting on me to think.
    “Right. I remember Tim saying they weren’t doing anything for Christmas but really had some great New Year’s Eve plans.” Reader sounded as bad as I felt.
    “Okay, here’s what we have so far. Alicia was in Paris. I’m sure Tim checked with her, but he didn’t ask to go get her or have the Euro team pick her up. Gladys, shout if that’s wrong. So she wasn’t in any danger while she was on that side of the pond. Which makes sense, if you consider that whoever’s running this is gunning for me. It would take time to realize, okay, the immediate useful hostages are safe, let’s start branching out.”
    “Possible.” Chuckie sounded nowhere close to convinced but like the migraine was a given. “Or she’s in it with Amy.”
    “Dude, really, let it go. Try to take Amy’s reaction to how you are now as a compliment, okay?”
    “Right. Still not seeing how Alicia’s not the mole. Or Amy, for that matter.”
    Something was nagging at me. “Gladys, were there any other Youngs on any of the three flights that Alicia was supposed to be on?”
    “Yes, Ralph and Margaret. Checking addresses . . . married couple, live in Long Island. Cross-checking . . . Alicia Young is their daughter.”
    “And now it makes sense. She went to Paris with her parents to shop for the dress and do Christmas there. Once in a lifetime, last time it’s just