Page 45 of The Liar

“It won’t.” Obviously, the only way through this conversation was by being firm and redirecting. “Since we’rehaving a heart to heart, what’s up with you and Neal? You got something against him?”

Hanson grunted again. “Nothing like that. He just sticks his nose into places it has no right to be.”

I cocked my head. “You don’t like nosiness?”

“There’s never a good reason for it.” He looked left and right, then dropped his voice until it was barely audible. “I’m not stupid, Gallo. I know you’re somehow involved in Sasha Sloane’s death. Perhaps I wouldn’t have put two and two together otherwise, but your wife isn’t as sneaky as she thinks.”

My stomach clenched, but I refused to let him see that he’d gotten to me. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t try to play me, kid. I’ve been bullshitting since before you were born. Lee needed a private word with one of our witnesses, who described a man friend of Sloane’s who looked a lot like you. Next thing I know, she’s taking off, and when she comes back, it’s with the news that our vic was a mob boss’s girlfriend. I’m willing to bet you told her that.”

I opened my mouth to scoff and make a joke about how he was pulling a bunch of random things together to make an image that didn’t fit, but he cut me off.

“If you’re going to spout more crap, then don’t say anything. I’m letting you know where things stand. Somehow, you knew our victim. A beautiful exotic dancer. I don’t know how, and I don’t want to, but if there’s anything you know that might help our investigation—things you aren’t willing to share with your wife—you have my number.”

“I got it.” Even if I was a bit confused. First, he’d warned me not to upset Joanna, and now, I got the feeling he thought I was seeing strippers behind her back, but he was willing to hide it from her for the good of the investigation. What was I supposed to make of that?

“West, I need help,” Dean called.

“Be there in a sec.” I nodded to Hanson, who drained half his beer in one go. “We’ll talk later.”

I reported to Dean for instructions and poured drinks while he took orders and payment. As I worked, I mulled over Joanna’s decision to tell Hanson about Sasha’s relationship with Ortez. It was interesting that she’d shared that information with him but hadn’t said where she’d learned it from, even if he’d put two and two together.

Did that mean she didn’t trust Hanson? Or was she just trying to protect me as best she could without putting the investigation on hold?

When business died down, I looked around for Hanson, but he’d gone.

“What were you and Hanson talking about?” Neal asked. He’d resumed his position near the cash register and had been steadily downing beers. “He looked even angrier than usual.”

“I think that’s your effect on him,” I teased, deflecting the question. “He didn’t get all surly until after you started asking about his case.”

Neal sneered. “It should bemycase. It’s my area.”

I shrugged, hoping to make my interest seem casual. “Why do you care? Isn’t it one less thing for you to do?”

“Because it’s my patch,” he growled, slurring slightly. “People know that I work the area. They expect to see me, and they know I like things done a certain way. Hanson and Lee will barge in and change things up, and then I’ll have to train everyone to do it right all over again. No offense,” he added, as if recalling at the last minute that Joanna was my wife.

I rested my elbows on the bar. “If you tell them your usual protocol, perhaps they’ll follow it, and you can avoid the hassle.”

I didn’t believe his claims about why he was unhappy with losing the Sloane investigation, but I was curious to find out how committed he was to the lie.

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Hanson is set in his ways, and can you really tell me you think Lee would be open to changing anything just because of my preferences?”

“She might surprise you.”

He swirled the beer in his pint glass. “Is she always so straitlaced?”

I stiffened. “What do you mean?”

His face twisted into one of those expressions that said, “Come on, tell me everything. We’re all boys here.”

“I mean, someone that repressed, she must be kinky as hell in the sack, right?”

Fury knifed through me. If not for the fact that his tongue had tripped over itself so much he was clearly drunk, I might’ve hit him.

“I think you’ve had enough.” I took his drink off him, my hands trembling with rage. I ached to wipe the smirk off his smarmy face.

You can’t beat up the people you’re trying to get close to,I told myself.No matter what kind of dirtbag they are.

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