The Duplicate

Chapter Twenty-nine

"Oohf." He stumbles back a step and catches her shoulders. "Tell me what?"

"David's here." And Leah darts around him, disappearing through the archway, thumpthumpthumpthumpthump, pounding up the stairs.

Looking a little dazed himself, the man stares after her, takes a couple of steps into the kitchen. Eyebrows raised, he whips his head around to look at Aubrey, then his guests. "Well, good morning to all."

"Hey, Malcolm," Dax mumbles.

"This is a surprise. What brings you to this side of the Bay, David?"

Aubrey's eyes flit away from the bacon she's frying. "He came to visit with his friends."

Malcolm's eyebrows climb higher up his forehead. He turns to Aubrey, and the two exchange a few looks—a silent conversation. He clears his throat, she shrugs, and finally Malcolm says, "Oh. I see." He comes forward, fastening his robe. "Hacking into Government websites again, Mister Dax? As funny as Harry McBallsack was, I thought you learned your lesson the first time."

"I'm just, you know, visiting."

"Riiight." Malcolm looks at me. "And who do we have here? You don't look like much of a computer nerd. If you met this guy online, you know he's probably been spying on all your e-mails, just saying." Despite the stress raking my brain, I find myself genuinely smiling. "Malcolm," he says, holding his hand out over the bar.

I shake it. "Evette."

He doesn't let go of my hand right away. He tilts his head, looking over my cheek.

"I was mugged," I say.

"Right. Well, whoever it was did a number on you. I hope you got a good lick in."

"I kicked him with my heel."

"Good." He turns to Trip, offering his hand. "And you are?"

For what feels like a full minute Malcolm's hand hovers there, empty, and only silence comes from behind me, stretching excruciatingly long. Splaying a hand over my forehead, I turn to look at Trip. He's completely ignoring the man. He won't even look at him.

Cringing, I sigh and turn back to Malcolm. "Trip is being anti-social. Don't take it personal. He hasn't finished his coffee yet."

Malcolm's fingers close, awkwardly, and he lowers his hand. "Right. Understandable," he says. But judging by the way his gaze flickers uncertainly over Trip, he doesn't buy it. He ambles towards his wife, who has been looking on the scene with unease. "Looks like we've got a full house this morning, dear."

She attempts to smile, but it's hard to do while she and her husband exchange another look. This one is more serious than the last. "They're going to be staying a little while," Aubrey says, "for a nice visit."

"Oh, really?"

The squawk that comes from behind me almost makes me spit up the overly sweet coffee I am slurping. Dax and I twist around, and my eyes set on the toddler holding on to my stool with one hand. Other hand stuck in his mouth. Big green eyes stare up at us with the curiosity only a two year old can possess. And despite the fact I didn't know this kid even existed until minutes ago, he draws a light laugh out of me.

"He scared me," I say, glancing at Dax.

Probably glad I'm actually speaking to him, Dax smiles a little. "His name is Noah." He leans down, and the boy gawks up at him. "Hey, remember me, little guy? Can you say Dax?"

The boy stares.

"Dax?"

Nothing.

"Daaa-x?"