In the kitchen, Mr. Alves Arroyo was seated at the table, and Danica would notice that for once he was dressed quite simply, setting aside his business suits for a day and opting for blue jeans and a T-shirt. He sipped quietly from a cup of coffee while he read from what appeared to be the Wall Street Journal. When Danica and Tara came into the house, he sat up a bit, setting his paper down. A thin smile crept onto his face, one that would seem to Tara an innocent expression, but Danica would see the pleasure in his eyes.<br/><br/>"Miss Day, I wasn't expecting any guests today. This is a surprise!" He spoke English well, but there was an unmistakable Hispanic accent in his voice. He set his cup down and stood to greet them, offering his hand to Tara. "My name is Alves Arroyo. I'm Danica's, ahh,<em>como se dice</em>, partner." This was one problem with their cover as a normal farm. It was impossible to masquerade as a platonic family, so usually they improvised. Alves had discovered that if you were friendly enough, most people would buy your lies, especially if they were just a little nervous.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Holly climbed into the back seat of Amy's car, having to squeeze in with her friends. It was uncomfortable for her, but Mark had to hunch a bit, to keep his head from banging up against the roof of the cabin. She was practically half in his lap when Lita and Aoi managed to squeeze in, and none of them could put on a seatbelt comfortably.<br/><br/>Amy turned around to speak to them.<strong>"So what are you all doing out here?"</strong>Holly is hesitant; There's something about this woman that gives her the creeps, something instinctual and primeval. "We were on vacation," she said sheepishly, looking between Amy and her front seat passenger.