He could almost guess at the thought process going through her mind – if he’d have been approached like this, he’d have made excuses immediately and start running. Leave the state, leave the country, and discard that disguise forever. But there wasn’t a way to approach her without giving away his own secrets – and in a public area such as this, where Lucas or Gina could walk through at any time, he couldn’t risk it.
“I am,” he said, not even attempting a smile. “I’m Xavier Delamere, up in 1003.” He paused. “I don’t mean to startle you, but you see a friend of mine mentioned an Iris once – you resemble her.” It was a struggle to hide his discomfort and the briefcase changed hands again. “Does Evan Harris mean anything to you?”
It had been the name used when around her, pieced together by the government. Evan had been popular when he went to prison and Harris was to remember his Uncle – who had distantly managed to get him out. The lie of a friend was the oldest trick in a book, silly teenage girls used it to hide their own problems when asking for advice. To anyone passing through it wouldn’t look suspicious – but hopefully Iris could see through it.