going to watch the Yankees during spring training.”
Hansen forced a smile. “Have a good time.”
He shifted away and went over to Gillespie. “You all right?”
She nodded and said, “I don’t want any time off. I’m going back to the situation room to go over the intel.”
“That’s a mistake. Grim won’t let you in.”
“How do you know?”
“I know.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
He hoisted a brow. “You like Texas barbecue?”
Grim tensed as Kovac stormed into the room and raised his voice, his gray brows knitting in fury. “I just heard you pulled the team out of Germany! They’re already back here in the States?”
“Fisher’s trail had gone cold, which is to say, we believe he’s dead.”
Kovac took a deep breath, and his words came out in a growl: “I’ll believe he’s dead when his pale and bloated body is lying across my desk… ”
“Sir, please calm down.”
“Oh, I’m calm.”
“Look, my people have been running on overdrive for days. If we get a new lead, I’ll have them back out there ASAP. You’re the deputy director, sir, but this, I believe, is my call.”
“Your predecessor wouldn’t have been as careless… or as bold.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“Maybe you need to take a little vacation yourself.”
Grim removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I wouldn’t go there, sir. I’ve already brought the director up to speed on this, and we’ve got his full support. And since he’s your boss, you might want to talk to him directly about this… ”
He took a step toward her. “Let’s cut to the chase.”
She smiled, nodded, moved to the door, and opened it. “Sounds great. This is the part where you leave.”
“Whatever you’re up to, Grim, I urge you to remain cautious.”
“Is that a threat?”
“I’m just concerned about your future here.”
“Well, that makes two of us. Enjoy the rest of your day, sir.”
He left. The door closed behind him.
And Grim nearly passed out.
Hansen and his father — who resembled a bespectacled, gray-haired scarecrow — were out on the front porch of his parents’ three-bedroom ranch house, about two miles down the road from the school where his dad taught. They’d just finished having dinner — barbecued ribs, along with Mom’s homemade macaroni and cheese and some baked potatoes, and were now nursing some beers and staring up at the night sky while seated in their rocking chairs. Mom and Gillespie insisted upon doing the dishes, even though that was Dad’s job: She cooked it; he cleaned it up. But since Hansen was visiting, the rules had changed, and Gillespie was having fun chatting with Mom, so she’d volunteered to help clean up. The conversation seemed to lift her spirits.
“This was such a great surprise, Ben,” Buck Hansen said. “And it gets me out of KP duty.”
“Like I said, Pop, sometimes they just throw us some time off. Good to be home. Just to smell it, you know?” He took a long breath through his nose and sighed.
The older Hansen laughed. “The ribs smelled great. But if you’re talking about all the horse dung and Joey Reynolds’s old pickup truck, the one that’s still burning oil…”
“Yeah, I actually was.”
“Well, then you’re nuts.”
“Just smells like home. So how’s it going?”
“Same old, same old.” His father squinted into the night sky, rubbing the gray stubble on his chin.
“I’m afraid to ask what you’re looking for.”
His dad turned suddenly and faced him. “Two nights ago I was out here, and I saw something again.”
Hansen took a long pull on his beer. “I believe you, Dad.”
“You know, I was thinking, what with you working for the government all this time, maybe you’d be willing to change your mind about this. I’ve got some pictures I can show you.”
After tensing, Hansen sighed and said, “Dad, I’m just a low-level analyst. So is Kim. We can’t be hacking into government computers looking for UFO encounters and cover-ups. If I have any close encounters with hacking the system, I’ll be fired.”
“I know that, Son, I know it. But you can’t blame your old man for trying.”
“Why is this so important to you?”
“Well, it’s like Charlton Heston said in
“Why?”
“Because we’re all doomed to destroy ourselves.”
“I like your positive outlook on life.”
He took a sip of his beer. “And I like your taste in women. I do love a redhead.”
“She’s just a friend from work.”
“Good kisser?”
“Dad, come on.”
“You’re no fun.”
Hansen thought for a moment, then said, “Can I ask you something? You ever know anyone who killed himself?”
“Yeah, I knew a fella once.”
“Why’d he do it?”
“Wife left him. Took the kids. He got depressed. Starting messing up on the job. Got fired. Then one night we heard the gunshot, not that anyone was surprised. Why you asking me this?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not depressed, are you?”
“Me?”
“Well, yeah.”
“No, I’ve been busy with work, but we had a guy who might’ve done that.”
“Why you say that? Could’ve been murder.”
“No, he just kind of vanished. Might be dead or not. No body.”
Dad leaned forward in his chair. “There are certain members of our government who are more susceptible to alien abduction, you know that, Son, right?”
Hansen repressed the desire to roll his eyes, sipped his beer, and said, “Good point, Dad. Good point.”
“All I’m saying is that you cannot rule out the possibility.”
“No, sir.”
Gillespie came out onto the porch, beer in hand. “Mr. Hansen, I want to thank you for dinner. I really enjoyed it.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. Anytime. Now, I’d better close my mouth because anything else I say is going to deeply embarrass my son.”
Hansen smiled at his father. “Dad, after all these years, you’re finally learning.”
He winked. “Sometimes we teachers are the worst students.”
