The Millennial Box by Julie Steimle (snow like ashes .TXT) 📖

disgruntled look with Mark. "The FBI is staked out there."

"Staked?" Zormna cringed, closing her eyes. "One car or two?"

Todd looked confused. "Why is the FBI at Jeff's house?"

Brian laughed, leaning out the car window. "Long story. We'll tell you on the way to the movies. Zormna, just come with us. You don't want to get in the middle of that."

Groaning, Zormna shook her head. "No. I promised. You go on without me."

"Then maybe I should stay." Todd held back by her side, his brow wrinkling in concern.

But Zormna shoved him toward the truck. "No. No. No. You are on vacation. You don't need the FBI in your life."

"You don't need them in your life either." He resisted. But he found it remarkable how she was able to push him into the back of the truck.

Zormna gave him one more solid push. "I can't avoid it. And I am sure they are actually waiting for me. Just drop me off, and I'll be ok."

She then hopped into the back.

Sighing, Brian steered the truck in a U-turn.

When she arrived onto Jeff's street at the edge of town, Zormna made him drop her off at the corner.

More than one car was sitting out front. And a Harley Davidson motorcycle was also parked there. After hopping out, Zormna clenched her teeth, trudging up the street to the front step. She barely knocked on the door. Aunt Mary opened it, wearing an apron of all things and playing what Zormna thought was a caricature of a housewife from the nineteen fifties.

"Ah, Zormna. Won't you come in? Jeff is in the kitchen," she said in an unusually motherly manner.

Zormna nodded with a painful smile. She stepped into the Spartan living room. Sitting on the immaculate couches, which Zormna had always thought were ugly blockish things, were even worse additions. Agents Sicamore, Simms, Hayworth, and Keane stared back at her - like uncomfortable patients in a dentist's waiting room. Everyone who had visited that house had always commented that it smelled like a hospital, and clearly the FBI agents felt the same. That bounty hunter, Steele was the only one not acting like he was waiting to get his teeth drilled. He stood near the pristine fireplace, peering at the three pictures that sat on the mantelpiece. One was of Alex at a younger age. The other was Jeff. The third was of Uncle Orren with his wife. Zormna grimaced at the agents as she turned promptly to the kitchen without even a 'hi'.

"Jafarr?" she called out, walking into the kitchen.

As if this was all routine, Jeff was calmly fixing a few sandwiches on white bread and arranging them on a large plate next to a large two-liter bottle of lemon-lime soda. It wasn't anything fancy, but it wasn't something he normally did either.

Turning to her, Jeff asked, "Zormna, can you get the Styrofoam cups? They're in the right upper cupboard."

She frowned at him yet she dragged out the stepping stool from under the sink, directly climbing from that onto the counter to reach the cupboard. Opening the door, she found the small stash of plastic forks, knives, and spoons leftover from their trip, and the cups leftover from Zormna's birthday party at the beginning of that month. Taking them out, she dropped them on the counter, closing the cupboard door. She then hopped to the floor beyond the stool.

Jeff did not even look up, cutting the sandwiches in half diagonally.

"Why don't you add an olive with a toothpick if you are going to be so nice?" Zormna hissed.

A guffaw broke from the living room into the kitchen.

Zormna turned to glare at the noise. It came from Agent Keane who had known them pretty well. Steele had picked up the third picture and peered at the image with inspecting suspicion, saying nothing.

Jeff smirked at her. "I don't have any olives. We never bought any because Al doesn't like them."         

He carried the tray from the kitchen to the coffee table and set it down with a handful of napkins. "You'd better not make a mess. My Aunt Mary doesn't like crumbs in the living room."

They peeked to her.

Aunt Mary stood by anxiously, watching her perfect living room like a hawk, only hiding her anxiety with a polite smile.

Steele felt the mantelpiece with his fingers and nodded in approval. "Very clean." He leaned over to examine the sandwiches.

None of the agents dared touch them at first. Steele picked up one and sniffed it, but he did not bite into it.

Smirking, Jeff walked back into the kitchen for the soda.

Zormna followed him, shaking her head and grabbing his arm. "What are they doing here?"

Smiling as casually as he meant to, hoping to look confident and at ease, Jeff said, "I invited them here. I thought they could help with the investigation."

Zormna opened her mouth to say something, but stopped and peered back at the FBI agents. She closed her mouth. Then thinking, she said, "You aren't taking them into the locked room are you?"

Jeff nodded. "Have to. We're going to use the computer, and I need Sicamore's help."

Zormna frowned, her eyes saying this exposure would blow the cover of the entire 'family'.

"We have to," he said again, turning to face her. "How else are we to find out the thieves fast? Who knows? They could have already moved the box. But at least this way we have a backup, more eyes looking in the right places."

Zormna still frowned, not saying anything. Jeff matched her gaze then walked back into the living room with the soda. They still had not touched the sandwiches, though Steele did open his and peer inside.

"I haven't poisoned it if that's what you're thinking." Jeff smirked with folded arms.

Zormna looked over at the plate and smelled them. "What are they?"

Jeff smiled. "Egg salad. I've become rather fond of egg salad." He opened the soda bottle and poured himself a drink. "Have one if you're hungry."

She did, picking up one on the top, careful not to spill any crumbs since Aunt Mary was still watching. Jeff also took one. He bit into it and sat down on the arm of the couch next to Agent Hayworth, smiling at them as they sat in pensive silence, still staring at the pile on the plate.

"Not hungry?" Jeff asked after another bite.

They still peered at the plate in discomfort.

Agent Sicamore cleared his throat. "I think, Jeff, that we just had better deal with business."

Jeff laughed, but he nodded in agreement. He picked up the plate and carried it with him, walking to the left room door. He rapped on the door with his free hand. The FBI agents followed him, standing up and straightening out their pressed pants and suits.

"This room is a rented room for the 'business' of our boarders," he explained to the FBI agents. Turning back, Jeff glanced through the doorway to Zormna, who was still uncomfortable with inviting those men inside their private room, even if the explanation of who use the room was a decent one that would cover their alibi. "Zormna, can you bring the soda?"

She shrugged, but picked up the soda bottle and the package of cups that she had placed on the coffee table, following the group from behind - excluding Steele, who took up the rear and was watching her as well as Aunt Mary. Aunt Mary immediately wiped the coffee table clean once they stood in the hall.

The door opened. Eric stepped aside and let Jeff in, followed by the group of FBI agents. Zormna smiled painfully at him, handing him the soda as she passed by. He smiled gratefully. Snatching a cup from the bag in her other hand, he filled himself a glass.

Steele peered from side to side at the room when he entered, taking in everything and saying nothing.

Inside, the room was different than the last time Zormna had been in there. The room was void of the usual maps. They had removed the radio they used to contact home and put it on the floor next to a speaker and a sound system for recording. The drafting table that the radio usually sat upon was bare except for a map of the U.S. and the printed list of the fifty odd people who had handled the box. Jeff set the plate of sandwiches on the desk next to the computer and pushed the archaic switch on. It looked like a designer's drafting studio rather than the war room that it was. They had even covered up most of their soundproofing so the FBI would not see it at first, though some of Jeff's instruments were in there. But that just made it look like part of a recording studio. There was even a collection of tripods at the side for microphones, lighting, and video recorders as if they had plans to create a YouTube channel.

While the computer was booting up, Jeff sat in the swivel chair. He smiled at his guests.

"What we have here is a list - and an idea Zormna and I came up with, with a little help from a few friends," he said, pointing to the drafting table.

The agents peered at the map briefly and then looked back at Jeff. Agent Keane picked up the photo list of NASA employees and associates that sat next to the map and perused the list, his eyes widening with each page.

"This is - " Agent Keane started to say.

"A list of all those that we know that handled the box prior to coming into the hands of your five men," Jeff completed his thought.

"How did you get this list?" Agent Sicamore asked accusingly.

Zormna smirked.

"That is not important," Jeff flippantly replied. "What is important is that we find the box. And the killers of those agents," Jeff added for the benefit if Agent Simms.

Jeff could see that Sicamore was not at all happy with his answer. The FBI agent's expression remained stern and skeptical, but the man agreed with the decision to move on.

Turning toward the computer, which was ready now, Jeff pulled up the internet and applied his search engine.

"Zormna and I found a commonality that will aid us in finding those who had stolen the box," he said, moving his mouse and getting ready to type in the website.

"On the internet?" Steele questioned, gazing at him skeptically.

Jeff turned around and nodded to him in particular. "Yes, on the internet. My people have a fondness for computers. Let's just say that we're just used to easy computer access. The point is, we used Sicamore's source.  - Sorry Sicamore..." Agent Sicamore flushed, staring at him. "...And we used a few of our own sources. And we found a common set of websites that might interest our thieves."

"How can their interest in a website help us find the killers?" Agent Simms folded his arms, turning back from his long stare at Eric who was picking up sandwiches and eating them as if he had been starving. The redhead had interested him since he had arrived at the house.

Smiling up at him, Jeff said, "Simple. A person frequents the sites they like most, and people often become part of a membership or a club. In this case, these sites are club sites and business sites, undoubtedly run by people that would be involved with these men."

A general rumble passed through the FBI agents in the room.

"I'm confused," Agent Keane interjected, hand raised. "Why are you sharing this information with us?"

Jeff and Zormna exchanged irritated looks.

"If this is one of your internal type groups that you, yourself, claim to be protecting then why don't you just go and get the box yourself?" Agent Keane asked, now picking up a sandwich, realizing that his hunger was greater than his fear. "Why let us in on it?"

"I've been wondering that myself," Zormna muttered.

Exasperated, Jeff shook his head at both of them. "Because. They are guilty of murder, and justice should be served. That, and I really don't like these people