remained peripherally aware of Hayley Ward. For later.
As she sipped her wine and moved into the throng, stopping now and then to exchange pleasantries with someone, she watched Cameo do the same, working her way discreetly toward her.
Hayley was off to her right, chatting with an older man in a blue suit while taking notes. Once or twice, Hayley caught her looking and smiled.
Cameo brushed past her then and said in a voice only she could hear, “I’m on my way to see a friend.” To her dismay, the blond operative walked straight to Hayley Ward.
Domino saw them shake hands, could almost hear Cameo introduce herself. She focused now solely on the two women. She hadn’t recognized Hayley, and her instincts told her the woman didn’t “have a problem” with her.
They made small talk, and now and then Hayley peered over Cameo’s shoulder, as if to see if she was still there. When the growing crowd obscured her view of them, she moved closer, but off to one side, to watch them in profile. Cameo appeared to be engaging the redhead’s interest, for now and then Hayley would laugh at some remark or nod and smile.
When dinner was announced, she waited until the two of them took seats at one of the large round tables, then claimed a seat opposite them. If Hayley had a problem with her, whatever that meant, she would know it soon enough.
The look on Hayley’s face when she sat down was one of pleasant surprise, and Domino felt a small sense of satisfaction when the redhead turned from Cameo to concentrate her attention exclusively in her direction.
“Hi again,” Hayley said, with a wry smile. “Glad you could join us. Did you take care of what you needed to?”
“Yes, for the moment,” she said, smiling back. “I didn’t mention it earlier, but you look familiar. Have we met before?”
“Highly doubtful,” Hayley replied. “I’m certain I’d remember.” All at once she seemed to remember the woman at her side. “Luka, this is Michelle.” As the two operatives shook hands, Hayley added rather pointedly, “We just met.”
Other guests began to fill in the seven other place settings at their table, but Hayley’s attention remained on Domino. “So, what brings you here this evening?”
“It’s a good cause, and I know a few people here,” she replied. “Big affairs like this aren’t usually my scene, but once in a while they take you by surprise, and you find yourself seated next to someone inspiring.”
Hayley leaned forward with a pleased expression and, almost unconsciously, Domino did as well, wanting to bridge the distance across the table. “I’d agree with that assessment, for sure. So, you’re an art restorer. What kind of medium do you work in?”
“It varies,” Domino said. “I take on the occasional painting, but mostly I do murals in churches and cathedrals. I actually prefer those.”
The waiters began serving, but the arrival of dinner did nothing to impede their discussion. Out of the corner of her eye, Domino noticed Pierce seated at the next table, positioned facing them. He seemed engaged in conversation with other guests, but he was watching them closely.
Not for the first time, she wondered what he was doing there. He rarely played a personal role in any assignment, but so much about this job was out of the ordinary, almost surreal. What was Cameo’s objective with Hayley? And why had Pierce kept her in the dark about who they were to meet?
“Please tell me you’re in Washington because you live here, and not merely for a restoration project,” Hayley asked between the first and second courses.
“I do live here. I’m just back, actually, from a job in Malta.”
“What paper do you work for?” Cameo inquired, breaking the spell and finally forcing Hayley to acknowledge her.
“The Baltimore Dispatch ,” she replied, more to Domino than the woman who had asked the question.
“What do you do there?” Domino asked.
“I’m a reporter.”
Pierce’s words came to mind. She
As she sipped her wine and moved into the throng, stopping now and then to exchange pleasantries with someone, she watched Cameo do the same, working her way discreetly toward her.
Hayley was off to her right, chatting with an older man in a blue suit while taking notes. Once or twice, Hayley caught her looking and smiled.
Cameo brushed past her then and said in a voice only she could hear, “I’m on my way to see a friend.” To her dismay, the blond operative walked straight to Hayley Ward.
Domino saw them shake hands, could almost hear Cameo introduce herself. She focused now solely on the two women. She hadn’t recognized Hayley, and her instincts told her the woman didn’t “have a problem” with her.
They made small talk, and now and then Hayley peered over Cameo’s shoulder, as if to see if she was still there. When the growing crowd obscured her view of them, she moved closer, but off to one side, to watch them in profile. Cameo appeared to be engaging the redhead’s interest, for now and then Hayley would laugh at some remark or nod and smile.
When dinner was announced, she waited until the two of them took seats at one of the large round tables, then claimed a seat opposite them. If Hayley had a problem with her, whatever that meant, she would know it soon enough.
The look on Hayley’s face when she sat down was one of pleasant surprise, and Domino felt a small sense of satisfaction when the redhead turned from Cameo to concentrate her attention exclusively in her direction.
“Hi again,” Hayley said, with a wry smile. “Glad you could join us. Did you take care of what you needed to?”
“Yes, for the moment,” she said, smiling back. “I didn’t mention it earlier, but you look familiar. Have we met before?”
“Highly doubtful,” Hayley replied. “I’m certain I’d remember.” All at once she seemed to remember the woman at her side. “Luka, this is Michelle.” As the two operatives shook hands, Hayley added rather pointedly, “We just met.”
Other guests began to fill in the seven other place settings at their table, but Hayley’s attention remained on Domino. “So, what brings you here this evening?”
“It’s a good cause, and I know a few people here,” she replied. “Big affairs like this aren’t usually my scene, but once in a while they take you by surprise, and you find yourself seated next to someone inspiring.”
Hayley leaned forward with a pleased expression and, almost unconsciously, Domino did as well, wanting to bridge the distance across the table. “I’d agree with that assessment, for sure. So, you’re an art restorer. What kind of medium do you work in?”
“It varies,” Domino said. “I take on the occasional painting, but mostly I do murals in churches and cathedrals. I actually prefer those.”
The waiters began serving, but the arrival of dinner did nothing to impede their discussion. Out of the corner of her eye, Domino noticed Pierce seated at the next table, positioned facing them. He seemed engaged in conversation with other guests, but he was watching them closely.
Not for the first time, she wondered what he was doing there. He rarely played a personal role in any assignment, but so much about this job was out of the ordinary, almost surreal. What was Cameo’s objective with Hayley? And why had Pierce kept her in the dark about who they were to meet?
“Please tell me you’re in Washington because you live here, and not merely for a restoration project,” Hayley asked between the first and second courses.
“I do live here. I’m just back, actually, from a job in Malta.”
“What paper do you work for?” Cameo inquired, breaking the spell and finally forcing Hayley to acknowledge her.
“The Baltimore Dispatch ,” she replied, more to Domino than the woman who had asked the question.
“What do you do there?” Domino asked.
“I’m a reporter.”
Pierce’s words came to mind. She
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