“It’s too late for ‘no comment,’ then?”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Stone.” She turned to Holly. “I remember you from the opening of The Arrington in L.A. You’re CIA, aren’t you?” Asked as if they had never met.
“That’s right.”
“Congratulations on your promotion,” Kelli said. “I saw the mention in the Times.”
“Thank you,” Holly replied.
“I believe you had some sort of bombing incident on the East Side, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Any significant damage?”
“It rattled a few coffee cups—that was about it.”
“I’ll bet that’s what you would say if the building were just a hole in the ground,” Kelli said, laughing.
“Probably.”
“Have you been with the Agency a long time?”
“A fairly long time.”
“Did you do something else before that?”
“I was a police officer in Florida. Before that I was in the army, where I was a police officer, too.”
“I didn’t know the Agency drew on former police as recruits.”
“The Agency recruits from all over the place,” Holly replied. She was being careful; she didn’t often have conversations about her work with civilians, and this woman was a journalist and the subject of an investigation she herself had initiated.
“Do you enjoy the work?”
“It’s very gratifying, when things go well. When they don’t, less so.”
“How did you and Stone meet?”
“We first met when I was still working in Florida. Some years ago.”
“Are you staying with Stone while you’re here?”
“I have an apartment in the city,” Holly replied, offering half a lie. “How about you? Do you and Jim live together?”
Kelli didn’t blink. “Yes, we do.”
“Uptown or down?”
“Downtown. Jim has a loft, and I’m lucky having a man who is a brilliant designer. You must come down for dinner one night soon.”
“That would be very nice,” Holly said, though she had a very, very good idea what the apartment looked like.
“I hear today from an acquaintance at the FBI that they’re looking for a woman in connection with the bombing.”
“That’s perfectly true,” Holly said.
“Who is she?”