Five—Contact
"Hi, can you tell me how to get tickets to the concert at the Shrine?" a cheery woman asked.
"I'm sorry, none of our artists are currently booked for Shrine Auditorium," Madison said into the phone as she right-clicked her mouse.
"My mistake."
Madison glanced at the time on her monitor as she replaced the receiver. It was a bit early, but it would have to do. "Anybody want anything from the sub shop?" she called out.
"No thanks."
"Nah, I brought my lunch today."
"Meeting one of the producers at twelve-thirty."
"Okay. Back in a few," she called as she grabbed her jacket. She walked through the door at the front of the office with the "Bannen Records" stencil. She exited the building and continued her journey to the sub shop two blocks down the road.
The bell rang as she walked inside. "Madison!" an older woman exclaimed. "Haven't seen you in a few days."
"Hey, Dorothy," Madison said, leaning over the counter to give her a hug. "Did you have a good weekend?"
"I sure did. My daughter and son-in-law went out of town, so I got to keep my granddaughter overnight," Dorothy replied, her Southern drawl intensifying.
"How old is she now?"
"Seven months," Dorothy beamed. "And she's the smartest little girl you've ever seen."
"I'll bet," Madison agreed with a smile. She was glad this was one of the places chosen as a safe meet. Dorothy was one of the true friends she had made in the last few months; she reminded her in some ways of a favorite aunt. Or her mother.
"So, are you eating in today or rushing back to that all-important computer?"
"All the artists' web sites are up-to-date, so I'll stick around today."
"Good! The usual?"
Madison nodded.
"Grab a table and I'll get it right out to you." Dorothy yelled the order before greeting a customer who had just walked in the door.
Madison sat down at a booth in the back of the shop and folded her hands on the table.
"There's been a change of plans." A low voice, almost a whisper, came from the booth behind her.
"What?"
"We just received word that Burke is leaving on a business trip tomorrow morning. He'll be gone until Thursday."
Her heart sank. By Thursday she would be following one of the bands around on their first two concert dates. This change in the schedule would set them back another week . . .
" . . . so we're initiating contact tonight."
"Tonight?" She fought to keep her voice down. "But—but that's too soon!" she whispered urgently.
"You're ready," he assured her. "We know that Burke has to buy a birthday present for a niece before he leaves. He's supposed to do that tonight. Work late; have your cell handy. We'll give you the location then."
Madison leaned her head back against the vinyl seat. Tonight. The moment she had alternately looked forward to and dreaded was almost here.
"Here's your lunch, dear," Dorothy said, setting a plate and glass down in front of her.
"Thanks," she said, opening her eyes.
Dorothy placed the bill on the table. "Everything okay?"
"Fine," she lied. "Just a little tired." She faked a yawn and stretched, turning her head towards the voice as she did.
He was gone.
*****
Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fift-- Irina paused, her arms straight, her body lifted off the ground. Footsteps . . . just a lackey picking up her dinner tray. She fought the urge to roll her eyes and resumed her push-ups.
Thompson was supposed to visit today. Even though Irina was not looking forward to their conversation, it would break up the monotony of yet another dreary day alone in her cell.
She should have been here by now.
"We've waited long enough. Phase two of this op begins in the next seventy-two hours." Jack's words echoed in her mind. It would begin tomorrow at the latest . . .
Unless something had happened.
And they sent her in early.
She briefly closed her eyes and hoped that Thompson didn't destroy the op before it began.
*****
"We're tailing him now." Madison held the cell phone away from her ear, absorbing the words. Shaking her head, she placed the phone in her purse before resuming her work.
"How late are you staying?" Fiona, the perky administrative assistant, asked her twenty minutes later.
Madison glanced at her watch. "Not much longer. Just trying to work ahead so that the sites won't have to be updated for a few days. I'm gone Thursday and Friday, remember?"
"Oh yeah. Where are they playing?"
"San Diego and Seattle. After that, they're on their own," she said with a grin. "Can't hold their hands forever, you know."
"You mean that wasn't listed in your 'web mistress/promotions/everything-else-because-it's-an-indie-label' job description?" Fiona asked innocently.
"Nope. In fact—" she was cut off by a beeping noise. She reached down and grabbed her phone. One new text message, unidentified caller. Go.
"Everything okay?" Fiona asked.
"Yeah. Just a friend in need," Madison hurriedly explained as she shut her computer down. "You know, I think I will call it a night. You should get going too," she added as she placed the cap on her ballpoint pen, depositing it in the canister on her spotless desk.
"Yes, Mom," she teased, rolling her eyes. "Have a good night. Good luck with your friend," she added as Madison walked down the hallway.
"Thanks," she called back, willing her stomach to calm down as she stepped out into the cool night air. She walked towards the parking garage next door, eyes carefully trained for anything amiss.
And then she saw them. A man and woman, walking directly towards her. His right arm around her shoulders, her left arm around his waist. Talking and laughing as if they were the only two people in the world. She noticed the woman slip her hand into her purse, then use the same hand to cup the man's face as their lips met. He reached up to grab her hand, their fingers entwining for a brief moment before the pair continued on their journey.
Madison continued walking, her purse slung over her right shoulder, her left arm down by her side, her hand open. She smiled and nodded at the happy couple, noticing her dimples and wide smile, his green eyes and furrowed brow, as she accepted the small piece of paper from the man. Her hand curled into a tight fist as she entered the parking garage, taking the elevator to the fourth floor. She quickly unlocked her car and stepped inside, putting the key in the ignition immediately. Only then did she uncurl her hand and flatten out the folded sheet of paper. She breathed deeply as she read the address, trying to calm her nerves, then sped out of the garage and out into the busy streets of Los Angeles.
*****
"The brush pass was a success," Devlin heard when he picked up his phone. "Bookworm has the location and is on her way."
"Are you sure?" he asked as he stared at the mounds of papers on his desk.
"Positive. She pulled out of the garage five minutes ago."
"All right. Good work." He hung up the phone and looked back at his desk. Sighing, he lifted the receiver again and dialed a familiar number. "Honey, I don't think I'll be home for another few hours . . ."
*****
"Good evening, miss. Do you need any assistance?" a clerk asked courteously as Madison stepped through the door.
She turned to him and smiled. "No thanks. I'm just browsing for now. This is an adorable store," she said honestly.
"Your first visit, I presume?"
She nodded. "But definitely not my last." She grinned ruefully. "I have a slight obsession with children's books. And the multitude of unpacked boxes to prove it."
"Well, if you need anything, just let me know," he said as he continued to organize the books in the display window.
"Thanks," she replied as she walked through the store. There were several customers—mostly mothers with small children—but Burke was nowhere to be seen. She wandered through the entire store twice, stopping periodically to glance at a title or check a price sticker. He wasn't here—yet his car was in the parking lot. She rolled her eyes heavenward, frustrated.
"Mom, I'm going upstairs!" Madison whirled around towards the voice in time to see a girl, perhaps ten or eleven, skip to the back of the store and open a door that Madison had presumed to be a closet. Bingo. She followed the girl's path to the door and found herself at the bottom of a staircase. She quickly climbed the stairs and found herself in what appeared to be the young adult section. Several children sat in bean bags reading or wandered the aisles. And there, standing in the middle of one of the aisles, was Burke, reading the back of a paperback novel.
Heart pounding, she ran a hand through her hair and began browsing the aisles, periodically checking to make sure he was there. After several minutes she wandered over to his aisle.
"Excuse me," she said, brushing past him. He quickly stepped back, allowing her to step in front of him.
The two perused titles for a few minutes in silence. Madison opened her mouth to speak when she was interrupted.
"What did you read when you were eight?" he blurted out. Surprised, she turned to face him. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me. It's just that my niece's birthday is this week and I have no idea . . ." He trailed off, and she smiled encouragingly. Maybe this will be easier than I thought.
He held out his hand. "My name's Christopher. Christopher Burke."
She extended her hand and shook his. "Madison Greene."
"Madison," Christopher repeated slowly, a smile spreading across his face. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Her smile matched his as she replied, "The pleasure is all mine."
