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I let out a grunt of frustration and sighed. Then I pushed back from my desk and stood. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I’ll figure it out on the way. Bottom line, I’m not going to risk seeing something happen to Hanna.”
“You want me to go with you?” he offered.
I shook my head. Knowing what I knew about Hanna, I didn’t think she’d respond well to anyone else being there, especially someone she didn’t know. “I’ve got it.”
“If that changes, let me know.”
With that, I walked toward the exit and left.
And throughout the entire drive to Hanna’s place, I kept trying to come up with a million logical explanations. Nothing made much sense, but I knew I was going to have to get to the bottom of this, because one thing was for certain.
Hanna couldn’t be kept safe if I didn’t know what I was dealing with. And on the off chance that her connection to each individual was discovered, nobody was simply going to accept that Hanna wasn’t involved merely because I had a feeling about it.
Unfortunately, by the time I made it to Short and Sweet, it was too late. Because just as I pulled up, Hanna was being escorted out the front door in a pair of handcuffs and tears were streaming down her face.
SEVENTEEN
Hanna
“Are you sure you don’t want a lawyer?”
A lawyer.
Why would I want a lawyer? Why would Ineeda lawyer? I hadn’t done anything wrong.
But the fact that I was sitting here at the police station after being hauled out of my home said otherwise.
And all of it happened within hours of me learning about Archie.
God, Archie.
A tear slid out of the corner of my eye, and I hated that. Not because I didn’t want to grieve for a guy who’d been like a big brother to me, but because I didn’t want to do it here.
“Do I need one?” I countered, my voice raspy.
Officer Hudson Webber returned, “Most people would suggest that you have your attorney present in a situation like this.”
A situation like this. I wondered exactly what a situation like this was, considering I had not a clue why I was here.
“Am I being charged with something?” I asked, figuring that was the best place to start.
Officer Webber offered a slight shake of his head and replied, “Not at this time. We just want to ask you some questions.”
Right.
Questions.
And depending on how I answered those questions, they might wind up deciding to charge me then.
Maybe I did need a lawyer.
“Questions about what?” I pressed.
“Ms. Briggs—”
“Hanna,” I corrected him.
He dipped his chin. “Right. Hanna. Can you tell me where you were last night between the hours of eight and midnight?”
