The Alias Men

by F. T. Bradley

  “Of course.” Ben groaned. “We were looking for a man all this time.”

  “Kate.” Larry sighed. “I thought something was off: the secrecy, the disappearances. I tried to find out more, but she was always one step ahead of me.”

  “Like a ghost,” I said.

  Larry nodded. “I followed her to your bedroom, Nigel. But then when I snuck inside, she wasn’t there—just Linc here.”

  “That was you at the party, with the flashlight!” I said. At least I got that right.

  Larry nodded. “But I couldn’t report you for snooping without explaining why I was there.”

  “Who cares about all that?” Ben said. “Our suspect has just escaped! You blew the case,” he said, pointing at me.

  “How was I supposed to know Ethan Melais wasn’t real, and that our bad dude is really a lady?” I wanted to get in his face, but my head hurt too much.

  I called Mom and told her I would be on my way home soon. I lied and told her the performance was amazing. The family was so busy with the car overhaul and the reunion, I knew only Grandpa would be watching the news.

  Ben got a phone call. Stark and Black had heard about the fire and were here. Savannah disappeared to tell her driver she was okay. While Ben briefed Albert Black, I met Stark inside the mansion.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, Linc,” Stark said. “Although I wish you would listen when we say you’re off the case.”

  “But Kate is on the loose with the Dangerous Double. Now what?” I asked, tightening the straps on my backpack.

  Stark looked at me. “You’ve done an amazing job.” Her voice echoed off the marble floors and the high ceilings. “Even though we only recruited you to be Ben’s stand-in, you’ve done just fine as a junior secret agent.”

  Hearing Stark say this nice stuff about me made the whole almost-dying part not so bad. I only wished my parents were around to hear it. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Honestly, Linc, there’s no way to catch Ethan Melais—or Kate—in Los Angeles anymore.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. “So you’re just going to let her steal that drone-system prototype and sell it to those evil terrorists?”

  “We’ll do our best in Las Vegas, since we know she’ll be there.” Stark touched my shoulder. “But until Monday morning’s drone-weapon-prototype reveal, there’s nothing we can do. Kate’s invisible—she could be anywhere. We’ll have to hope we can catch her there, using a Double Detector. But it’s going to be tough.”

  I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry. I know I sound like a baby, but this was my family on the line.

  “It’s time for you to go back to your normal life.” Stark stepped back. “You’re off the case, Linc. For real this time.”

  42

  SATURDAY, 10:30 P.M.

  OF COURSE, GRANDPA DIDN’T LIKE THIS turn of events at all. After a cab got me back to my aunt and uncle’s place, I checked in with Mom before heading upstairs.

  Grandpa was waiting for me in our room, sitting in the wicker chair with his crossword puzzle. “No more mysteries to solve?” He slumped a little. “I was just getting warmed up over here.”

  “Sorry, Grandpa.” I took off my backpack and sat down on the foldaway bed. “But this secret agent business should really be left to the professionals.”

  “Nonsense! You’re as good an agent as any of those other guys.” Grandpa wagged his finger at me. “You’re better. You have heart, guts.”

  “Thanks, Grandpa.” Truth was, I felt a little lost now that I was off the case. My family’s lives were at stake. I felt like I should do something to catch Kate.

  “So that’s it?”

  I pointed to the TV. “You and me, we’re better off watching some crime shows.” Well, at least Grandpa was.

  I told him about the day, and how he’d figured out that “Ethan Melais” was an anagram of “the Alias Men” before anyone else.

  “Tell me that part again,” Grandpa said, so I did. The guy deserved the credit for cracking the case, even if I’d been too preoccupied to listen.

  After I told the story for a third time, Grandpa got ready for bed, and I snuck down to the kitchen for some food. I’m pretty sure that almost dying makes you extra hungry.

  The kitchen was at the back of the house, and from the window I could see the adults outside, talking, laughing, and having a good time. As I ate some crackers and cheese, I thought about Pandora. I would probably never see them again. And I didn’t even get to say good-bye to my friend Henry.

  Dad walked into the kitchen from the garage. “Hey, buddy.” He looked tired as he sat down across from me and wrinkled his nose. “Did you sit too close to the campfire out there, Linc? You smell like smoke.” Dad didn’t realize I’d been gone.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Have you been in the garage all night?”

  Dad rubbed his head. He groaned. “Rebuilding that Town Car. It’s like trying to get your grandpa to behave.”

  “Impossible.” I slid my plate toward Dad to share, but he shook his head. “You need some help with the car?” I asked.

  Dad looked at me and smiled. “That’d be nice. I missed you these past few days.”

  “Me too.” My head was so full with the case, Pandora, and what was at stake. I could use a distraction.

  I followed Dad to the garage. The Cadillac Town Car looked perfect on the outside: gleaming black paint, with shiny chrome, and dark-red panels on the sides. The engine was a different story. There were parts everywhere on the garage floor, but it wasn’t as bad as I’d seen it before. “So what’s first?”

  Dad showed me the engine, the water pump, and the battery. It was a mess, but I’d helped him rebuild engines before. And it felt good to work together like always. By the time we were done and I looked up, it was almost two in the morning. “Whoa,” I said.

  Dad said, “We should probably wait until daylight to start her up.”

  “Yeah.” I realized how quiet it was.

  Dad smiled. “You know, let’s break the rules for once.” He opened the garage. “Start her up. Who cares if we wake everyone?”

  When he tossed me the keys, I knew what to do. I got in and waited for Dad to stand over the engine, with the hood still up.

  “Let’s do it, Linc.”

  I turned the key in the ignition. There was a sputter, a bang. But then there was that familiar hum of the engine. “You did it!” I yelled to Dad.

  He shushed me but smiled big. “We did it.”

  Of course, it took only thirty seconds for the whole Baker clan to crowd the garage in their pajamas. Uncle Tim high-fived Dad, and Aunt Jenny gave Dad their signature head rub.

  It felt good to stand there in the garage with my family, watching the exhaust fumes blow away in the wind. But the Pandora case still nagged me, like a pizza-party stomachache.

  “It’s good to see you help your dad,” Mom said, giving me a quick hug. “So no more movie business?”

  “I’m done.”

  “You’re not invited to the Academy Awards?”

  I was about to remind Mom that it was the same time as the Baker barbecue, when I felt a sudden jolt of brilliance.

  Kate! She was going to the Academy Awards—she had to.

  “Linc?” Mom asked. “Are you okay?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” I was going to catch Ethan Melais after all.

  All I needed was a plan.

  43

  PLACE: MY AUNT AND UNCLE’S HOUSE

  TIME: SUNDAY, 6:31 A.M.

  STATUS: STUMPED, PRETTY MUCH.

  THE ONLY PROBLEM? PLANNING IS NOT exactly my strong suit—I usually just roll with the punches. But this time, I would have to be the one throwing the first punch. And I had to be really, really smart to beat Kate.

  No pressure or anything.

  But now I could make it right. Get the Dangerous Double. Catch Ethan Melais, aka Katherine Freeman, and save my family—whether Pandora had kicked me off the case or not. And they had given up on ca
tching Kate in LA anyway.

  If only I could figure out how to do it. I’d spent most of the short night awake, thinking, while the coils of the foldaway mattress poked in my back. Except by six thirty the next morning, I heard Grandpa shuffle around the room, and I still had no plan.

  I needed help. So I called my pal Henry and told him to meet me at the Perfect Frame Café at nine that morning. I had Mike drop me off.

  Of course Henry had to show up with Ben and Savannah.

  “I thought I told you to come alone,” I whispered to Henry when he sat in the chair next to me.

  “I needed a ride,” Henry said. Then he smiled. “Plus, you said you needed brainpower, so the more the merrier, right?”

  Ben looked most unmerry when he sat down across from me. Savannah just seemed uncomfortable.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, since the night before hadn’t exactly been easy for her.

  “I’m fine, thanks to you. I feel kind of guilty now, leading Kate right to the hat. Henry told me about its special powers,” she added in a whisper.

  “You didn’t know,” I said. “And I’m just glad she didn’t shoot you.”

  “Kurt told me he found the hat hidden behind some boxes on a top shelf in the costume warehouse. A lucky find, he called it.” Savannah gave me a sad smile. “Not so much, huh?”

  I said, “Let’s just work on getting the Dangerous Double back, and catch Kate.” I was kind of glad I had three friends here to help me now, even if Ben was part of our group.

  Ben leaned on the table. “So what’s your plan? If I’m going to break Pandora mission protocol, it had better be good.”

  I looked around to see if anyone was listening in. But the place was deserted, except for a dude at the counter. “Kate got nominated for an award, right?” I looked at Savannah.

  She nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, leaning on the table too. “For Best Makeup and Hairstyling.”

  “This year there are four nominees, so that makes her odds of winning one in four,” Henry said. “That’s a twenty-five percent chance. Of course, it also depends on politics and previous awards won, plus—”

  “Let’s stick with the one-in-four odds,” I said, cutting Henry off. “Whatever her chances, she’ll want to come, right?”

  “The Oscar is the most prestigious award in the industry,” Savannah said.

  “But Kate can’t really show her face,” I said.

  “There is a warrant out for her arrest.” Ben nodded in confirmation. “The LAPD will be looking for Kate. The last thing she will want to do is show up at the Academy Awards today.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” I said, knowing I was right about this. “Think about that profile we made of Ethan Melais, and everything we know about Kate. She wants—no, she needs the credit. Just like when she left the business card as Ethan Melais. She wants the recognition. Kate will show up for the Oscar. I feel it in my gut.”

  “Kate can just wear the Chaplin hat and go undetected,” Savannah said.

  “So let’s catch her,” I said. “The Academy Awards are our one chance. Kate will have to wear the hat to make it inside.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing.” Savannah sat back in her chair. “Kate has to win, or she won’t reveal herself.”

  “How about we con her?” I said, feeling that rush you get when you suddenly have a good idea. I looked at Henry. “Let’s make the chances of Kate winning that Oscar one hundred percent.”

  Ben actually smiled. “If Kate wins, she’ll have to come out of hiding to collect her award.”

  “And we steal the Dangerous Double.” I smiled too. “Let’s do it.”

  Now, this was more of an idea than a plan at this point. I had no clue how we were going to pull it off.

  Savannah laughed and shook her head when we got to this part of the scheme. “You can’t just rig the Oscars. There are strict security procedures on who handles the envelopes, and how they make it to the stage. On top of that, it’s not like the jurors aren’t aware of who they picked.”

  “But the con doesn’t have to hold up for more than the moment it’s announced,” I said. “We just need Kate to believe she won, so she’ll take off the hat.”

  “Couldn’t you make a replica of the envelope?” Ben asked Henry. “Like you make your gadgets, only of the winning announcement.”

  Henry nodded. “I’ll look at the footage of last year’s award show to see what the envelope looks like. It can’t be that hard.”

  “I know one of the people guarding the envelopes,” Savannah said. “She works in the production office at You Only Live Once. I might be able to get away with a swap.”

  “Now all we need to do is get into the Chinese Theatre,” I said.

  “That’s easy.” Savannah smiled. “Mom can get me tickets; I’m sure of it. We’re part of the acclaimed director Nigel Floyd’s latest project, aren’t we?”

  “We are.” I smiled. “People are dying to see us.”

  Ben nodded. “The Hollywood kids.”

  44

  SUNDAY, 3:25 P.M.

  THERE WAS ONLY ONE SMALL PROBLEM with our plan to take down Kate at the Academy Awards. And this time it wasn’t a bad dude or lack of transportation holding me back.

  It was the Baker family. I was supposed to be at the family barbecue that afternoon, and those reunion get-togethers went well into the evening. There was no way Mom would let me off the hook.

  So as I stood at the bedroom window and watched my cousin Tara from San Diego struggle to find a parking spot out front, I tried to think of an excuse. Some fake story that would get me out of Pasadena and to the Chinese Theatre, where the Academy Awards were going down that evening with a special nod to classic movies. But I couldn’t think of any lie that would sucker Mom and Dad into letting me go.

  “What’s wrong, Linc?” Grandpa looked up from his crossword puzzle.

  “I think we have a chance to catch our bad lady.”

  “Really?” He closed the puzzle book, smiling. “I thought you were off the case.”

  “I’m trying to set things right.” I sat down on the bed and told Grandpa about our plan to take Kate down at the Academy Awards. “It’s risky. I mean, she tried to kill me four times: first the car, then the drowning, and the Ferris wheel. And at Floyd’s house last night. I’m kind of scared.”

  Grandpa looked at me. He hesitated. “You know how I said I couldn’t join the army because of my peepers?”

  “Your eyesight was bad, sure.” I hoped Grandpa wasn’t going to tell that whole Geronimo story again. “Otherwise you would’ve been a parachute dude.”

  Grandpa shook his head. “My eyesight was fine back then. I went to the army recruiter’s office, stood right outside for an hour. And then I chickened out.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. I mean, I told my share of fibs, but that was a big one.

  “I let fear hold me back,” Grandpa said. “These Pandora types keep calling you for a reason. I don’t want you to not take the chance, be afraid, and—”

  “Linc!” It was Mom, calling from downstairs. It was three thirty; I was supposed to meet Savannah at four to head to the awards. I was running out of time.

  I sighed. “Coming!”

  “Gimme a minute.” Grandpa stood, and went downstairs.

  I got up and slowly followed him. Maybe I could just sneak out, deal with the consequences later. This was a bad-lady takedown we were talking about. My family’s lives were on the line. The stakes were too high for me to blow it off for a Baker barbecue.

  But I didn’t need to worry. Grandpa met me at the bottom of the stairs. With Mike.

  “You’re back on the job, Lincoln,” Grandpa said. “No one messes with the Bakers, remember?”

  “But what about Mom and Dad?” I asked.

  “I’ve got you covered,” Grandpa said. Then he leaned close. “Agent Baker.”

  I argued, “But I’m not an—”

  “Shhhh.” Grandpa handed a set
of car keys to Mike. “He’s driving you.”

  “In the new car? No way,” Mike whispered.

  Grandpa smiled. “Linc here is going in a Chaplin costume—gotta have the wheels to match.”

  “The family is letting me drive the mint 1940 Cadillac Town Car they just overhauled?” Mike’s jaw dropped. “Man,” he whispered.

  “We’re borrowing it,” Grandpa said with a wink to me. “That’s what family does: They take care of each other.” Something told me no one knew about us borrowing the classic car Dad and I had worked on just last night. Mom always wonders why I get into trouble so much—I think Grandpa’s genes are to blame.

  “Thanks, Grandpa.”

  Grandpa waved his hand like it was all nothing, but we both knew better. “I’m gonna get me a hot dog and some of that store-bought macaroni salad. You kids need to scram before anyone realizes I swiped the keys.”

  “Man,” Mike whispered again.

  Grandpa pushed us toward the door. “No fear. Go catch that bad lady, Linc.”

  45

  SUNDAY, 4:45 P.M.

  “THIS IS SKYLAR BROOKE, REPORTING live from the red carpet. I can sense the excitement in the air, can’t you? Listen to those fans! Behind me, you can see Hollywood’s hottest star, David Graham, with his new girlfriend, infomercial success Tiffany Pierce—don’t they look smashing together?

  “Oh, and here’s Ava Stone with her husband, the musical composer John Stone. Aren’t they the most graceful couple ever? And I hear their daughter, Savannah, will be making her own debut on the red carpet shortly. . . .”

  We were watching the show on Henry’s tablet, waiting just a few blocks away in the newly overhauled 1940 Cadillac Town Car. Mike was at the wheel.

  “It worked,” Savannah mumbled, smiling. She’d spent a few hours sending emails to reporters and making phone calls, to make sure the story buzzed in the media by the time the pre-Oscar entertainment started. Savannah had even gotten us tickets—her mother just made a few phone calls and it was a done deal.

  “Savannah is going to arrive with the top secret junior cast of British director Nigel Floyd’s much anticipated production, The Hollywood Kid. There have been some rumors that the production was halted, but representatives of the famous director have told us there are just some logistical delays. We’re certainly going to get the scoop for you on that!”