The cover of the book showed a muscular blue humanoid holding a human woman in his arms. The woman’s head was thrown back, and it was clear the illustrator had wanted to create the illusion she’d just been ravished into a near coma by the blue dude.
He ran a hand over his beard. “Um, alien porn?”
A harsh scowl pinched Hannah’s eyebrows together. “Have you been talking to Cesar? It’s notalien porn.It’s science fiction erotica. It has intergalactic intrigue, space travel, and, sure, sex. But the sex isn’t the sundae. The sex is the cherry on top.”
“Who’s Cesar?”
“More importantly,” Greenlee interrupted. “Who areyou?” He narrowed his eyes on Hannah’s face.
She shoved her book back into her pack. “I’m Hannah Blue.”
“What are you doing here, Miss Hannah Blue?” Greenlee pressed. “Are you an attorney or something?”
“Do I look like a lawyer?” She made a face even as she resumed scanning the warrant.
Sam had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing when he saw indecision enter Greenlee’s eyes. He could read Greenlee’s mind as Greenlee tried to determine which answer, ayesor ano, was least likely to offend the prickly little purple-headed imp.
Hannah’s impatience was palpable when she rolled her eyes. “Don’t break yourself trying to answer. I’ll do it for you. No. I’m not an attorney. I’m just here visiting an old friend.” She slapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder.
For a second, he thought he felt a frisson of awareness. But he chalked it up to the delight he felt at her handling of Greenlee.
Physically she might have metamorphosized. But her droll sense of humor and general disdain for authority didn’t seem to have changed.
“And are you aware yourold friend,” Greenlee stressed the two words, “was, or perhaps stillis, harboring a fugitive? A woman suspected of killing a man just last night?”
Sam hadn’t given Hannah many details over the phone. Just that they had a blocked number they needed her to trace and an email account and some phone logs they needed her to hack. So he wasn’t surprised when some of the color drained from her face.
Of course, in the next instant, she lifted her chin defiantly. “You know, despite this fair nation of ours having turned into a complete shitshow over the last few years, one of the great things that hasn’t been flushed down the ol’ poop shoot is that people are still considered innocent until proven guilty. There’s a world of difference between asuspectedmurderer and aconvictedmurderer.”
She pointed to the papers. “Also, you’re wrong about your warrant here. It only covers the factory building. That little house you see behind me.” She turned and indicated the tiny foreman’s cottage visible through the gates. “Off-limits. So are any outbuildings.”
After handing the warrant back to Sam, she looked the trio of Feds up and down. “You’re not CPD. Our local boys wouldn’t be caught dead in those cheugy suits. So who are you?”
The muscle in Greenlee’s jaw had twitched earlier. Now it was positively throbbing.
Sam didn’t remember the last time he’d been more tickled by another man’s discomfort. And he contented himself with crossing his arms and letting Hannah run the show.
“I’m Agent Greenlee, Federal Bureau of Investigations,” Greenlee managed to grit through clenched teeth.
“Mmm.” Hannah nodded. “And these guys beside you are Tweedle Mute and Tweedle Muter? Do either of you speak? Or is your job to stand there and look sus in your shades?”
“Agent Newland, ma’am,” the guy beside Greenlee said. When he pulled off his sunglasses and nonchalantly deposited them in his breast pocket, Sam worked hard not to throw back his head and laugh.
“No need to ma’am me. I’m not your momma.” Hannah turned to the third guy. “And you?”
“Agent Floyd.”
“Well, Agents Greenlee, Newland, and Floyd, it’s too hot to be standing out here on the curb.” She pointed to her snowy complexion. “Even though my main man, Cesar, makes sure I’m slathered in sunscreen, I still try to avoid direct sunlight. I’m nocturnal by nature, you see. Plus, there’s the triple threat of wrinkles, freckles, and skin cancer. So why don’t you guys come inside, do your search, and then go about your day so we can go about ours?”
Sam experienced the oddest pang at her second mention of Cesar.
Who is this guy? Her boyfriend?
He brushed off his odd reaction as fraternal misgivings. A natural protective reaction toward someone he’d once considered a sort of kid sister.
When Rafer, who had been leaning out the guardhouse window blatantly eavesdropping, caught Sam’s eye, Sam gave him a subtle nod.
A second later, the big gates slid open.
