Stephenie Meyer - The Chemist

Carston’s housekeeper would probably be home by now, unless she had errands to run. She only worked mornings there. Of course, she could have other clients, but Alex imagined that Carston would pay well so he wouldn’t have to share – he would want her free if he needed something. Alex drove the black sedan across town, not all that far, really, from Daniel’s empty apartment. She was glad he was safely tucked away at Val’s. She was sure they’d have some kind of surveillance on his place, just hoping he’d be stupid enough to come back for his toothbrush or favorite T-shirt.

The housekeeper’s neighborhood had street parking only. She found the decade-old white minivan a block over from the apartments where the woman lived. There was plenty of traffic, both cars and pedestrians. She found a spot near the minimart on the corner and set off for a walk.

The early-summer heat had her sweating almost immediately. Unlike Kevin, she didn’t have a myriad of costumes to choose from, so she was in her blazer again today, and it felt twice as thick as usual. Oh, well, she needed the pockets. Hopefully the makeup wouldn’t sweat off.

There were enough people around her that she felt invisible, just one of the herd. The numbers dwindled as she crossed over to the next block, but she still didn’t stand out.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and hit Redial.

Kevin answered on the first ring. “What’s the problem, Oleander?”

“Just calling to say hi,” she told him.

“Ah. Blending?”

“Of course.”

“Talk to Danny. I don’t have time to blend with you.”

“I’d prefer it anyway,” she said, but he was already gone.

She heard a thud as the phone hit something, and then Daniel said, “Ouch.”

Alex took a deep, calming breath. Kevin always made her want to stab things.

“Alex, are you all right?”

“Absolutely.”

Kevin shouted something in the background.

“Kevin says you’re trying to look natural,” Daniel said.

“That’s part of it,” she agreed.

She was only two cars from the minivan now. There was a man ahead of her but walking in the same direction so his back was to her. She couldn’t hear anyone close behind her, but there could be someone who had her in his sight line. She didn’t turn to look.

“So I guess we should talk about something normal people talk about,” Daniel was saying.

“Right.”

“Um, what would you like for dinner? Do you want to stay in again?”

Alex smiled. “Staying in sounds great. I’ll eat anything you feel like cooking.”

“You make things too easy for me.”

“There are enough difficulties in the world without adding my own.” She flipped a few locks of the wig out of her eyes, her fingers knocking into the phone. It skittered across the sidewalk and teetered on the edge of the curb. “Hold on,” she called toward it. “I dropped the phone.”

She knelt and swiped the phone up, holding on to the edge of the minivan’s wheel well for support. She jumped back to her feet, brushing at the knees of her leggings.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

“Did you just plant the tracking device?”

She started walking again, heading for the end of the block, where she could begin circling back to the car. “Yes.”

“Very smooth.”

“I told you it was nothing. I’ll see you soon.”

“Drive safe. I love you.”

Kevin shouted something in the background, and there was another thud close beside the phone.

“Are you kidding? ” Daniel shouted back. “A knife?”

Alex ended the call and picked up the pace a little. She couldn’t leave them alone for twenty minutes.

Things had returned to normal – or her new version of it – by the time she got back to the apartment. Daniel was still studiously watching the news. Val had just brought Einstein back from a walk and was filling the lovely crystal bowl with water for him. Kevin was watching the feed from his cameras and sharpening a machete. Home sweet home.

“Anything?” she asked Daniel.

“Nothing about me. Apparently the vice president is bowing out before the election after all. I guess those recent scandal rumors aren’t entirely unfounded. So of course, everyone is speculating about who President Howland will select for his running mate.”

“Fascinating,” Alex murmured in a tone that implied the opposite. She dumped her bag onto one of the white bar stools, sat on the next one over, and opened her computer. All seemed quiet at Casa Carston, so she started scrubbing backward to see if she’d missed anything while she was out. So far she hadn’t discovered any regular visitors besides the housekeeper and the security service that drove by once daily in the afternoon.

Daniel flipped to a different news network, where another version of the same story was running. “You don’t care who the president runs with?” he asked. “Howland’s pretty popular. Whoever he chooses will probably be the vice president, and possibly the president four years from now.”

“Ventriloquist dummies,” Kevin grumbled, setting down the machete and starting to work on a long boning knife.

Alex nodded in agreement as she slowed the feed to watch two teenagers amble past Carston’s house and up the block.

“What do you mean?” Daniel asked.

“I don’t worry about the puppet,” Kevin said. “I worry about the guy pulling the strings.”

“That’s a pretty cynical attitude about the democratic nation you used to work for.”

Kevin shrugged. “Yup.”

“Alex, Republican or Democrat?” Daniel asked.

“Pessimist.”

She reached for the other computer, the one with the bugged calls on it, and plugged in her headphones.

“So nobody cares that the front-runner is some ultra-right senator from Washington State who used to work for the Defense Intelligence Agency?”

The first call Alex had missed was from the daughter again – she could tell from Carston’s warm, fatherly voice. She started fast-forwarding.

“Makes sense,” Val was saying, pulling a rubber band out of her hair. She was wearing sweaty workout clothes and looked like she should be on a Maxim cover anyway. “Howland is soft. Get someone with a conservative edge, pull some voters off the fence. Plus, the new guy is one part grandpa, one part silver fox, with a catchy two-syllable name. Howland could do worse.” She shook her golden hair out, and it fell into perfect waves down her back.

“It’s sad, but you’re probably right. Just a beauty pageant.”

“Everything is, honey,” Val told him.

Alex stopped to check the recording, but Carston was still just listening and muttering kindly mm-hmms. She sped it up again.

“I suppose I should get used to it, since I imagine I don’t get to vote anymore.” Daniel frowned. “Vice President Pace. Do you think he was born with that name, or did he alter it to make it voter-friendly? Wade Pace. Is that something you would name a kid?”

“I wouldn’t name a kid anything,” Val said. “Because I would never be dumb enough to bring one home.”

Alex’s fingers reached down automatically to stop the recording.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Just explaining that I’m not the mom type,” Val said.

“No, Daniel, what was that name?”

“Senator Pace? Wade Pace?”

“That name… it sounds familiar.”

“I think everyone knows his name,” Daniel said. “He’s been positioning himself for this kind of promotion, not exactly low profile.”

“I don’t follow politics,” Alex said. She stared at the TV now, but it just showed some news anchor. “How much do you know about this guy?”

“Just the stuff they’re running on the news,” Daniel answered. “Sterling service record, all the normal clichés.”