for further contact, string her along without crossing lines that might jeopardize her mission. Though she had been drilled in the art of social conversation— how to engage anyone’s interest—she felt unprepared for this kind of intimate interaction. For the first time, she had to operate on a more personal level, answering as Luka Madison, not as some fictitious persona with any history she wanted to create. And the past that had been created for her as Luka wasn’t one she wanted to discuss with a potential target.
“Come on in. Throw your jacket anywhere.” Hayley headed toward the kitchen. “What do you take in your coffee?”
“Cream, please.” Domino removed her jacket, folded it carefully, and set it neatly on the edge of Hayley’s desk. Her nearby appointment book and her absence allowed Domino a quick perusal of a few pages of it. She knew, from Pierce’s call, Hayley was supposed to meet Vasquez Tuesday evening. But she had written nothing in her calendar to indicate the event. Domino wasn’t surprised, because she also knew a search of Hayley’s place had turned up no sign of the assassination tape. She was being very careful.
Domino stepped back. Her jacket didn’t look right. Not casual enough. Like she was still at the Organization. She picked it up and hung it carefully over the chair. Her orderly mind rebelled, but she knew it was still too perfect. Reluctantly, she picked it up again, threw it over the armrest of the couch, and forced herself to let it go. What the hell.
Hayley reappeared with two mugs of coffee. “So tell me all about yourself. Start with family. Do they live here? Any siblings?”
They settled onto the couch. Hayley kicked off her heels and put her feet up on the coffee table, atop a haphazard stack of magazines. Yet another difference between them, Domino noted. She took her boots off only when she went to sleep, because you never knew when you might have to run for the nearest exit. They stay on.
“I’m on my own. My mother gave me up for adoption when I was born, and I grew up in foster care. They told me she was young and I was born out of wedlock, but that was all.” That’s what Luka’s bio said, anyway. Only the EOO knew she had really come from an orphanage in the Balkans when she was three. They never told her whether she had parents or siblings still alive.
“Did you ever try to track her down?” Hayley asked. “Nowadays, there are all sorts of ways to—”
“No,” she said. “I have no interest in dredging up the past. She must have had her reasons.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without my family.” Hayley certainly looked relaxed, but expertly reading the nuances of body language, Domino could tell she wasn’t entirely so. She’d been touching her hair and chewing on her lower lip all evening. Domino was comforted that she wasn’t the only one nervous and a bit self-conscious.
“We’re your typical close-knit Scottish clan,” Hayley continued. “Dad’s overly domineering, not to mention that he has really antiquated ideas about what women should and can do. We’re expected to appear at all birthdays, holidays, and other special events. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for you.”
“It was rough. Still is at times, but I found a way to move on. Or so I tell myself. You’re lucky to have such a close family.”
“Yeah, I am. Even when I’m exasperated with one of them, or dreading yet another niece’s pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey party when I’d rather be working. All I have to do is look around at some of my friends and co-workers.” Hayley sipped her coffee.
“How do you reporters work, anyway? Do you pair up with anyone on your assignments, or do you work alone?”
“Depends,” Hayley replied. “Mostly I work alone on stuff the paper assigns me—features and local events that are quick to turn around. A photographer may come along if the story has good picture
“Come on in. Throw your jacket anywhere.” Hayley headed toward the kitchen. “What do you take in your coffee?”
“Cream, please.” Domino removed her jacket, folded it carefully, and set it neatly on the edge of Hayley’s desk. Her nearby appointment book and her absence allowed Domino a quick perusal of a few pages of it. She knew, from Pierce’s call, Hayley was supposed to meet Vasquez Tuesday evening. But she had written nothing in her calendar to indicate the event. Domino wasn’t surprised, because she also knew a search of Hayley’s place had turned up no sign of the assassination tape. She was being very careful.
Domino stepped back. Her jacket didn’t look right. Not casual enough. Like she was still at the Organization. She picked it up and hung it carefully over the chair. Her orderly mind rebelled, but she knew it was still too perfect. Reluctantly, she picked it up again, threw it over the armrest of the couch, and forced herself to let it go. What the hell.
Hayley reappeared with two mugs of coffee. “So tell me all about yourself. Start with family. Do they live here? Any siblings?”
They settled onto the couch. Hayley kicked off her heels and put her feet up on the coffee table, atop a haphazard stack of magazines. Yet another difference between them, Domino noted. She took her boots off only when she went to sleep, because you never knew when you might have to run for the nearest exit. They stay on.
“I’m on my own. My mother gave me up for adoption when I was born, and I grew up in foster care. They told me she was young and I was born out of wedlock, but that was all.” That’s what Luka’s bio said, anyway. Only the EOO knew she had really come from an orphanage in the Balkans when she was three. They never told her whether she had parents or siblings still alive.
“Did you ever try to track her down?” Hayley asked. “Nowadays, there are all sorts of ways to—”
“No,” she said. “I have no interest in dredging up the past. She must have had her reasons.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without my family.” Hayley certainly looked relaxed, but expertly reading the nuances of body language, Domino could tell she wasn’t entirely so. She’d been touching her hair and chewing on her lower lip all evening. Domino was comforted that she wasn’t the only one nervous and a bit self-conscious.
“We’re your typical close-knit Scottish clan,” Hayley continued. “Dad’s overly domineering, not to mention that he has really antiquated ideas about what women should and can do. We’re expected to appear at all birthdays, holidays, and other special events. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for you.”
“It was rough. Still is at times, but I found a way to move on. Or so I tell myself. You’re lucky to have such a close family.”
“Yeah, I am. Even when I’m exasperated with one of them, or dreading yet another niece’s pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey party when I’d rather be working. All I have to do is look around at some of my friends and co-workers.” Hayley sipped her coffee.
“How do you reporters work, anyway? Do you pair up with anyone on your assignments, or do you work alone?”
“Depends,” Hayley replied. “Mostly I work alone on stuff the paper assigns me—features and local events that are quick to turn around. A photographer may come along if the story has good picture
Similar Books
