145. Busted

When we were sure we’d given the redheads the slip, hiding near the dumpsters behind the book shop, Lenore started hitting me, as if I haven’t been through enough abuse already. “I knew I wasn’t hallucinating!” she shrieked. “You two idiots are up to something and if you don’t tell me what it is, I’m quitting.”

My heart quivered at the thought. Not that I would have any trouble finding a new agent, successful as I am, but I couldn’t bear the thought of Lenore being out of my life for good. Lenore, my love! What would we tell the kids? Well, all right, we didn’t have any kids, but we might someday. But could I really tell her about the aliens? She was probably safer not knowing, and all I wanted was her to be safe.

Burbank must have seen me struggling for something to say. “We’ll come clean,” he said. I looked at him, my eyes doing that funny thing they do where they go all wobbly when I’m confused and scared at the same time. “You see, Lenore,” Burbank continued, “In Spain, Milo stole a chair.”

“I didn’t!” I protested.

Burbank put his hand on my shoulder, which probably looked comrade-like, but his nails dug into my shoulder and he seemed to be speaking through his eyes to me. “Milo, it’s time to tell her the truth.”

And I realized then that it was better for her to believe the lie than the truth, so I admitted, “Okay, yeah, I stole a chair.”

“But he gave it back,” Burbank said. “They still want to put him in jail though. You can’t let poor little Milo go to prison…again!”

Lenore looked like she didn’t know what to do. She swung her bag half-heartedly at Burbank who stepped out of the way with poise and grace. “I’m going in to set up for the event. Don’t you clowns screw this one up. I’m serious, no more pranks.”