detail,” replied Xana with a twinkle in her eye.
“Did she happen to get the name of the man at the door?”
“What do you think?”
“Does she at least remember what he looks like?”
“In fact, she does. Average height for a man. Shorter than me. Losing his hair, but he’s got it parted so it looks like no one can tell, but everyone can tell. And he’s got a mark on his cheek. ‘Like a scar?’ I asked. ‘No. Like a wart.’ ”
Detective Chau took a step back.
“Who is it?” Xana asked him.
He held up a one-minute finger and briskly walked toward his partner and the other police officers, who were now marking off Room 104.
So Xana called Hayley, who picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, how are you doing?”
“I’m fine. I need a favor.”
“Are you sure you’re fine? I was worried.”
“What?” Xana watched Chau whisper in Konquist’s ear the news about the man with the receding hair and the facial scar. Konquist’s reaction may have been silent, but might as well have shouted panic. “Why were you worried?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I drag you to an execution and then suddenly you need to go to an AA meeting at one A.M. ”
“I’m good. Really. Are you OK?”
“Sure, sure. No, that’s a lie. I couldn’t sleep. No, that’s a lie too. I know I slept at least a little because I had a nightmare.”
Xana turned away from the police. “Oh, Hayley.”
“But I’ll be OK. I mean, I have to be, right? So what’s the favor?”
“I…” Xana suddenly felt a boulder of guilt on her shoulders. Hayley was going through enough and now to burden her with this? But it was the only way. There was no one else at the FBI she could ask. Burned bridges and all that. “Could you get my file?”
“Your file?”
“Everything’s been computerized, but there’s a hard copy in the personnel cabinet by the—”
“Yeah, that’s under lock and key.”
“Well, sure. So get the key.”
“How about if I just print out your electronic—”
“No, I need the hard copy. There are items in the hard copy that…for the sake of…the relationship between the hard copies and their electronic versions is not one to one. There are…omissions. I need the unexpurgated version.”
“Why would there be omissions? Who omitted them? Is that legal?”
Xana shook her head in frustration. These were all valid questions, and if their roles were reversed, she would be asking the very same ones, but the answers were too complicated, at least for now.
“Can you at least tell me why you need your file?” persisted Hayley. “Are you finally putting your CV together so you can apply for a new job like I’ve been bugging you to do?”
“Yes,” Xana lied. “That’s exactly it. Can you get it for me?”
“I can absolutely take classified personnel documents belonging to the federal government and let you borrow them so you can apply for a job.”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“You see my point.”
“Yes, Hayley.”
“Maybe if you could tell me what to look for…?”
Xana reached into her pocket and removed one of two pieces of nicotine gum. She had promised Em that, if she moved in, she wouldn’t smoke, and she hadn’t, but the nicotine gum was a must, especially since the nicotine patches gave her a rash and since hypnotherapy, which she had tried once to appease Em, was king bullshit. The flavor of this gum was pocket lint. Yum.
“Look,” said Xana, “there should be a letter from human resources dating back to 2012. It’s a long letter. You can’t miss it. If you could at least copy down the letter’s salient details, that would be a big help.”
“Where are you going to be after work? Home or the bookstore?”
“Home or the bookstore.”
“Always a pleasure,” said Hayley, and she hung up.
Why not just confess the truth? What did she have to hide from Hayley? Hayley knew who she was, what her reputation was. Hayley knew she had never suffered fools gladly.
“Did she happen to get the name of the man at the door?”
“What do you think?”
“Does she at least remember what he looks like?”
“In fact, she does. Average height for a man. Shorter than me. Losing his hair, but he’s got it parted so it looks like no one can tell, but everyone can tell. And he’s got a mark on his cheek. ‘Like a scar?’ I asked. ‘No. Like a wart.’ ”
Detective Chau took a step back.
“Who is it?” Xana asked him.
He held up a one-minute finger and briskly walked toward his partner and the other police officers, who were now marking off Room 104.
So Xana called Hayley, who picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, how are you doing?”
“I’m fine. I need a favor.”
“Are you sure you’re fine? I was worried.”
“What?” Xana watched Chau whisper in Konquist’s ear the news about the man with the receding hair and the facial scar. Konquist’s reaction may have been silent, but might as well have shouted panic. “Why were you worried?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I drag you to an execution and then suddenly you need to go to an AA meeting at one A.M. ”
“I’m good. Really. Are you OK?”
“Sure, sure. No, that’s a lie. I couldn’t sleep. No, that’s a lie too. I know I slept at least a little because I had a nightmare.”
Xana turned away from the police. “Oh, Hayley.”
“But I’ll be OK. I mean, I have to be, right? So what’s the favor?”
“I…” Xana suddenly felt a boulder of guilt on her shoulders. Hayley was going through enough and now to burden her with this? But it was the only way. There was no one else at the FBI she could ask. Burned bridges and all that. “Could you get my file?”
“Your file?”
“Everything’s been computerized, but there’s a hard copy in the personnel cabinet by the—”
“Yeah, that’s under lock and key.”
“Well, sure. So get the key.”
“How about if I just print out your electronic—”
“No, I need the hard copy. There are items in the hard copy that…for the sake of…the relationship between the hard copies and their electronic versions is not one to one. There are…omissions. I need the unexpurgated version.”
“Why would there be omissions? Who omitted them? Is that legal?”
Xana shook her head in frustration. These were all valid questions, and if their roles were reversed, she would be asking the very same ones, but the answers were too complicated, at least for now.
“Can you at least tell me why you need your file?” persisted Hayley. “Are you finally putting your CV together so you can apply for a new job like I’ve been bugging you to do?”
“Yes,” Xana lied. “That’s exactly it. Can you get it for me?”
“I can absolutely take classified personnel documents belonging to the federal government and let you borrow them so you can apply for a job.”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“You see my point.”
“Yes, Hayley.”
“Maybe if you could tell me what to look for…?”
Xana reached into her pocket and removed one of two pieces of nicotine gum. She had promised Em that, if she moved in, she wouldn’t smoke, and she hadn’t, but the nicotine gum was a must, especially since the nicotine patches gave her a rash and since hypnotherapy, which she had tried once to appease Em, was king bullshit. The flavor of this gum was pocket lint. Yum.
“Look,” said Xana, “there should be a letter from human resources dating back to 2012. It’s a long letter. You can’t miss it. If you could at least copy down the letter’s salient details, that would be a big help.”
“Where are you going to be after work? Home or the bookstore?”
“Home or the bookstore.”
“Always a pleasure,” said Hayley, and she hung up.
Why not just confess the truth? What did she have to hide from Hayley? Hayley knew who she was, what her reputation was. Hayley knew she had never suffered fools gladly.
Similar Books
