Page 35 of Heart and Soul
“You ask me, foxes seem a lot more like cats than dogs.”
“It’s true. More crafty. More calculating. More precise.”
She opens the door for me. “I was thinking more fussy.”
We enter a long, warm hallway with bright lights that make me squint. Hillerman leads me through a door into a mess hall echoing with the clatter of metal trays being set out on a counter by the cafeteria staff.
“Full service. Coffee, eggs, donuts, whatever. If you need anything before we head downstairs.”
One of the cafeteria workers is a pretty woman, maybe a few years younger than me. She’s got dark hair and smokey eyes, which gives me an idea. “They’re getting meals ready for the prisoners?”
“That’s right.”
“Who takes it in? These people?”
“No. Cafeteria staff isn’t authorized downstairs. Why?”
“None of the prisoners have ever seen any of these people?”
“That’s what I just said.”
“Perfect. I’ll take that one.” I point to the good-looking brunette. She catches us looking at her and freezes.
Hillerman is baffled. “What, her?”
“Her, yeah. But not dressed like that. Tell her to wear street clothes—”
“I’m not telling her anything unless you tell me what for.”
“You can’t know, or this won’t work. I don’t get to see your script, and you don’t get to see mine.”
“What script? There is no script.”
“Exactly. I’m going to play my hand, and you’re just going to have to read the table, be on your toes, and improvise. We need natural reactions. It can’t seem rehearsed.”
“And for your part, you need her?” Hillerman points at the girl, who is now starting to raise her hands, as though under arrest.
“Her, yes. You said I could order anything. But not dressed like that.” I shout across the mess hall. “You got anything else to wear? Street clothes?”
The girl looks to Hillerman for permission to speak.
“What’s your name?” Hillerman asks her.
“Mandy.”
“Mandy, stop what you’re doing and change into your street clothes—”
I interrupt. “Ask her if she’s got a hoodie.”
“She can hear you.”
“You got a hoodie?”
“Yes.”
“Wear that. Oh! How about makeup. Got makeup?”
“Er…a little.”
