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Hansen stopped with his hand on the door and looked at me like he didn’t know whether to take me seriously or not.
“Come on,” I said and pushed open the door.
“Wait, what kind of answer isnot really?”
I never got to tell him as a smiling Maureen greeted us in what was an unusually empty reception area.
“Oh, Nate. There you are,” she said. “Wait a sec.” She almost ducked behind her large desk, coming up with a stack of papers. “Need you to sign these. And you,” she said and turned to me, her dark curls swinging around her plump and friendly face, “need to sign in.”
I did as told, realizing she thought I was there to help with an interview as usual.
“How’s Bill?” she asked Hansen as he went through whatever papers they were and signed them.
“Better,” he said, surprising me a little. This must have been what the texts were about. “Seems to be over the worst, but keeps going in and out of unconsciousness.”
“That’s good,” she said with genuine relief in her voice. They were a small police department and everyone knew each other. “Rosita and the kids?”
“She’s kept the kids away for the worst of it,” he said, finishing the last of the papers and handing them back.
“Thanks,” she said, and then looked a little surprised. “That was unusually complaint free from you,” she said as she put the papers down behind her desk again. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you got—”
She stopped herself way too late, her cheeks turning red immediately as Hansen stared at her with those damn narrowed eyes. I couldn’t help myself as I started laughing at the sight. Yep, his being disconcerted was the best distraction from my own problems.
“Stop that,” he told me, which didn’t help in the least. I actually doubled over a moment, before straightening up and seeing Maureen’s shocked face as realization dawned on her.
“You two?” she said pointing a finger back and forth between us.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Hansen exclaimed and walked away from us.
“Twice,” I said, holding up an equal amount of fingers, simply to piss him off. It worked like a charm.
“Evans,” he yelled back at me as Maureen broke into a smile as well.
“Gotta go,” I said to her. “That’s how he flirts.”
Her laughter followed me into the station as I ran to catch up with him. He went straight to his desk and told me to sit down. I did, sitting down in one of the chairs next to his and McAllen’s desks as Hansen logged onto his computer.
“Will you stop that?” he said without looking at me. I sat with my hand over my mouth, shoulders shaking as I tried my best to suppress the laughter.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No, you’re not.”
I shook my head. He was right.
The smile was wiped from my face a few moments later, though, as he found what he was looking for, and turned the computer screen in my direction for me to see.
Freddy.
His picture unmistakable, as part of the file the police had on him. Still marked as a fugitive.
I was suddenly aware of Hansen studying my face for any information he could obtain. My silence spoke volumes. He’d caught me completely off guard.
“Why are you showing me this?” I asked.
“You know why.”
“No. Can’t say that I do.”
