Alien Diplomacy (37 page)

“And Missus Lockwood. Well, I haven’t called Eugene yet. But he’s next.”

Nice to see where Eugene and I rated on the Danger Warning List. But then again, it hadn’t occurred to me to even think about warning any of them to stay away from the ball, in part because I knew it would leak classified information, but also because I hadn’t thought about any of them since before my limo exploded.

“Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“Good. See you next week. I hope.” He hung up, presumably to call Eugene and freak him out next. I mentally kicked myself. I hadn’t asked Jack how he’d gotten my number either.

I wondered if Leslie had called me because Ryan had called her, or if she was calling about something else entirely. If she’d gotten Ryan’s warning, she certainly hadn’t acted like it when we’d spoken. In fact, just the opposite. She clearly expected and wanted me to be at the ball. This opened up a whole new set of questions I would have asked myself, only my phone rang again.

“What am I, the switchboard for
American Idol
?” I looked at the number before I answered. “Hi Eugene.”

“Kitty, I just got the strangest call from Jack. I didn’t know he had my phone number.”

“Ditto and ditto, dude. You’re calling me sooner than I’d have expected, though. He just called me a couple minutes ago.”

“As if I wanted to chat with him for one moment longer than necessary? There’s no way Lydia can miss the President’s Ball. Do you think Jack’s actually got real information, or do you think he’s trying to scare us away?”

That was one of the questions Leslie’s call had raised for me, but I didn’t have a good answer. “I don’t know.” I also had the realistic moral quandary that Ryan had apparently been able to get over, namely, if you know something horrible is going to happen, do you warn people or do you shut the hell up?

Chuckie returned as I was contemplating this. I looked at him. He’d been working in the C.I.A. for a long time. My parents had been working in clandestine and covert ops for a lot longer. And I hadn’t found out about any of it until I’d absolutely had to—when my life was actually in danger, when I was actually involved.

Reality said that Chuckie had longed to tell me…and hadn’t because his job required that he didn’t. I’d wanted to tell him, too, when I’d joined Centaurion Division. But I hadn’t known he had the clearance for me to share the information at the time, so I’d lied and told him nothing.

“I think it’ll be okay,” I lied. “You can’t ask Lydia to commit career suicide based on a phone call from a guy we know hates us.”

Eugene sighed. “Okay, good. She’s so excited about going, I can’t imagine the fight we’d have if I tried to suggest we should be elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just relax, have a nice night together, and remember to tell her she looks great a lot tomorrow before you get there.”

He laughed. “I will. Thanks, Kitty. See you tomorrow night. Hopefully one of us won’t blow the place sky high.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears, dude.”

We hung up before I thought to ask if Lydia had mentioned dropping by my Embassy today or ask about her taste in friends and associates. Oh, well. I counted to thirty. My phone rang again. Why not? Apparently everyone in the world wanted to talk to me tonight. “Hello?”

“Kitty?”

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“It’s Bryce.”

Oh, goody. The tool was calling me now. “What do you want? By the way, how the hell did you get my phone number?”

“Darcy gave everyone a roster on the first day of class. You got one, too, I’m sure.”

I probably had. I’d hated class from Day One, and I hadn’t looked at a single thing that woman had handed out. “Oh. Okay. Why are you calling?”

“Jack called with some whacked out conspiracy theory. Did he call you?”

“Yeah, and Eugene. Jack said he’d called everyone.”

Bryce heaved a sigh. “Look, I think he’s delusional. He’s been worried that Pia’s been cheating on him for weeks. I think it’s gotten to him. I know he’s been drinking. Once he called me, and I took a minute to think about it, it was clear he’s just doing this for attention.”

“What if he’s right?”

Bryce snorted. It was on the Lockwood Snort Scale of Gentlemanly and Discreet of course, but it was still a snort. “Please. He’s undoubtedly sloshed. I just figured I’d call and let you know that the rest of us aren’t in on this, it’s not some ridiculous high school type prank to get you or Eugene to stay away.”

“Good thing, because we’re both going. We can’t exactly back out.”

“Good.” Bryce sounded relieved. “And, you know, sorry about how we acted yesterday. We were just playing with you.”

“I’m sure.” I knew they were playing with us. Like cats played with mice. I, however, was more cat-qualified than they were, so the hell with their little intimidation plan. “Anyway, yes, we’re going, bummer about Jack, thanks for calling.”

“You’re welcome. See you tomorrow?”

“You bet.” We hung up. “But not if I see you first, Bryce.”

I
PUT MY PHONE BACK
into my purse, waiting for it to ring again at any moment. Didn’t. Amazing.

I rejoined everyone. “Chuckie, is the code name for the President’s Ball ‘Planet Hollywood’?”

He nodded. “Why?”

I shared my unique series of phone calls, leaving out the normal call with Bernie, since it wasn’t relevant. “I’m trying to figure out if Jack just shared real high-level information or not.”

“Sounds like he did.” Chuckie seemed less concerned with this than I’d have expected.

“You’re not worried?”

He shrugged. “It’s not as if he told you anything specific. It’s pretty standard to assume that something bad will be attempted at an event like this. For all we know, it’s her division being careful. And if they actually know more than we do, which I doubt, he doesn’t know it, so it’s only the barest of leaks.”

“Because no one is going to miss this event,” Reader said. “It’s the talk of the town. Paul can’t take two steps outside the Pontifex’s residence without someone asking if he’s going to be at the ball.”

Gower nodded. “I’m sure your friend’s call won’t stop your other friends from attending, Kitty.”

“Dude, where in my explanation did I make it sound like most of these people are my friends? Classmates, yes. Friends, no. Only Eugene. We’re not in with the Washington Wife In Crowd, trust me.”

“I don’t think you need to worry, Kitty,” Chuckie said. “This leak, such as it is, isn’t enough to warrant anyone panicking, though
after this is done, I may have a word with his wife and explain that her husband is snooping around. If she doesn’t already know.”

“Meaning she could be feeding him false information to keep him happy,” Tim said.

“True enough,” Reader agreed. “But I’m with Reynolds. This isn’t a high enough priority to warrant any more of our time.”

The conversation went back to the other higher priority problems. After a few minutes, it was clear that while high-level meetings had to continue, Jeff and I weren’t adding all that much. I was tired, and the torpedoes were suggesting that baby feeding rather than psychopathic mind-melding would be in my best interests. Jeff and I went up to our apartment while Mom went with a few dozen A-Cs to get Dad and Jamie.

We got into our rooms, and I noticed something missing. A lot of somethings. “Where are all the Poofs?”

“I’d assume they’re with Jamie and your father.” Jeff shrugged. “You know they go wherever they want to.”

Someone knocked, and I heard Jamie’s Papa Sol and Nana Angela are the BEST Grandparents in the WORLD squeal-giggle combo. I also heard snuffling, yipping, and hissing. Jeff opened the door, and the tide of canines blew in, dragging A-C agents behind them, followed by the agents carrying the deluxe cat carriers. Mom, Dad, and Jamie came in, more A-Cs behind them.

“Wow, it’s a party.” I took my child, who demanded kisses from both Mom and Dad before letting go of Mom’s shirt.

Mom gave Jamie a tickle. “She was angelic as usual. So unlike you in that one way.”

“Hilarious.” Dad opened the cat carriers, and all three cats exited from one. All the Poofs exited from the other. “Dad, why were all the pets and Poofs with you?”

He gave me a shocked and affronted look. “There was a potential gas leak. You didn’t think I’d leave any of the animals in danger, did you?”

“No, Dad, no,” I said quickly, lest the “they are our family members, too” lecture begin. “Just didn’t think about it.”

Dad nodded. “I understand, kitten. There’s been a lot going on.” He looked into our bedroom. “Jeff, where are the dog beds?”

Jeff coughed. “In the other room. The big dayroom,” he added hopefully.

Dad’s expression went from pleasant to stern instantly. “The dogs are used to sleeping with us. They’re excellent protection, too.”

“I don’t really want the animals in the same room as Jamie,” Jeff said.

“We had cats and dogs before Kitty was born, and they were always in our rooms.” Dad shook his head. “You have the Poofs in the room with you.”

“They’re different,” Jeff said, clearly grasping for any port in this storm.

Dad shot him the Evil Parent Eye. “Jeff, when you agreed to take the pets, we went over sleeping arrangements.”

“Oh, Dad, relax. You know they’ll be in our room within a matter of minutes, no matter where Jeff put the dog beds.” In my experience, the dogs merely dragged their beds to where they wanted to sleep and then refused to budge.

“Where are you planning to have the cats sleep?” Dad asked, voice like ice.

“With us,” Jeff said quickly. “I’m just worried that the Poofs might, ah, get territorial and hurt the dogs. Or the cats.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Dad said, all signs of annoyance gone. “They got along wonderfully while we were over at Paul and James’ residence.” He pointed into our room again.

Sure enough, Candy and Kane were both on the larger Poof Condo already, surrounded by Poofs, all snoozing as if they’d lived here together forever. Sugarfoot was grooming himself and also the three Poofs hanging out in the middle of the bed with him. Clearly the Poofs and the cats were getting along just fine.

I heard some snarly sounds, took a look over my shoulder, and sure enough, the dogs were all dragging their beds down the hall. Duchess gave me an extra wag as she pulled her bed into our room. Dudley shot Jeff a betrayed look as he followed her. Dottie dropped her bed on Jeff’s feet, indicating clearly that the rest of the job was his. Duke, never one to pass on a good idea, did the same.

Jeff heaved a sigh. “No problem. Our room’s big enough.” He picked the beds up and arranged them in a row along the side that didn’t have the Poof Condos and the door to Jamie’s room on it. The dogs took this opportunity to wash his face. “Gah. I’m cleaning up. Kitty, are you ready to feed Jamie?” I could tell he was praying my answer would be yes.

“Yes.”

Jeff shot me a grateful look. “Great, be right there.” He trotted into our bathroom.

“Mom, are you sure Dad should go tomorrow?”

Mom nodded. “It’ll raise suspicions if my husband isn’t with me
for this. The President’s clear on what your father does and what your father knows.” Mom shot me a look, so I was pretty sure the President also knew what Dad didn’t know, meaning the President knew more than me, but that was always a given.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” I realized my tone didn’t indicate I was sure, because my father hugged me.

“I’ll be fine, kitten.”

“But, who’s going to watch Jamie if we’re all at the President’s Ball?”

“Gladys,” Mom replied. “Believe me, she’s excellent.”

“With babysitting or protection?”

“Both.” The way Mom said it, clearly Gladys had her Mossad Stamp of Approval. “And Denise Lewis will be with her.”

“Why doesn’t Denise get to go to the President’s Ball when Dad’s going?”

“Kevin’s not attending, at least, not as a guest. And Denise doesn’t actually want to go.”

“I don’t want to go, either.”

Mom laughed. “I’m sure. But you’ll be fine, kitten.”

“My Washington Wife teacher told me to disavow all knowledge of the class while I’m there.” I figured it would be better if she heard that coming from me.

Mom’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I’m sure Missus Lockwood has her reasons.”

“You know her?”

“Yes. I’m not a fan.” Mom kissed my cheek. “She’s not my kind of woman. There’s more than one way to handle things, kitten. Your ways seem to work, so don’t let that stuck-up, condescending, uppity woman with the most overinflated ego based on doing the least amount of actual meaningful work bother you.”

“Don’t hold back, tell me how you really feel about her.”

Mom snorted. “Be happy I’ll be too busy tomorrow night to spend any time with her, or else she’d get an earful, if not my fist in her face.”

I hugged her. “Thanks, Mom.”

She hugged me back, but not the bear hug, since I was holding Jamie. “Any time, kitten. No one disavows knowledge of my daughter and gets a pass from me. They might get shot, sent to Guantanamo, or merely cut dead, but they don’t get to insult my child, and my parenting skills, in that way and get off without some form of pain.”