"No," Hanson said, holding the 'o' for a couple seconds too many, smacking on his gum with a smirk.
Penhall let out one bemused laugh, "You wanna bet, buddy boy?"
His partner plopped down into his chair and rolled it up to his desk, "How much?"
Judy walked up to them, sighing before taking a sip of her coffee. "Who is it this time?"
Penhall shook his head, about to brush it off but Hanson answered her, "A shy girl, behind the counter of a greasy spoon diner."
"How shy?" Judy asked, intrigued.
"Wouldn't look into his eyes." Hanson said, continuing to smack on his gum.
Judy looked around to make sure that no one could hear her, she moved closer to the desk. "Usually, I don't partake in gambling, but I think this one has potential."
Penhall's mouth formed an O. "What?" he demanded, loudly. "You don't think I can get girl?"
She thought it over before turning to Hanson, "Put me down for $150." Then she picked up her coffee from Penhall's desk and walked away.
Hanson chuckled, and wrote it down on a piece of paper. Along with $100 for himself.
Before Penhall could object, a girl came up behind him and coughed, "Excuse me, are you Tom Hanson and Doug Penhall?"
Hanson looked up at the girl. She had dark, brunette hair, that was in loose curls down her back. Her eyes were brown, but not just any brown. They were the color of hersey's chocolate with specks of green in them. He nodded, "And you are?"
"My name is Andie. Andie Fisher."
Penhall extended his hand towards her, and she quickly cowered back, "Whoa, whoa" he chuckled, "Just a handshake."
She nodded, and shakily shook his hand.
Hanson got up from his desk and looked down at her, surprised by her short, petite shape. "Where have I heard that name?"
Penhall shrugged and Andie looked at him from under her lashes, "Do you read?"
Tom laughed, "Got quite an attitude, wouldn't have expected that."
"No, I meant do you read novels?"
He shook his head, "I'm not a big fan of reading, actually." He smacked his gum and grinned at her.
She cautiously smiled back, "I'm a writer."
He moved back and looked her up and down. "You don't look old enough to be a writer."
"Oh!" Penhall cried, "I knew I had heard that name. Andie Fisher, The Scarlett File." He walked over to Tom and smacked his chest. "This girl is amazing. And she's only," He thought it over..
"17" she said with a tiny grin, obviously flattered by the recognition.
He nodded, "And, what?, 6 books in the series?"
She coughed, growing uncomfortable. "19."
Hanson's smile fell, "What's wrong?" She shook her head, "Why did you come to us, Andie?"
"You are police officers." She stated.
"Yes, we are." replied Hanson, causing her to flinch.
"Then, you follow the crimes going on." She said and Penhall nodded, "The recent murders, do you know of them?"
"Which ones?" asked Hanson.
"All of them."
"All 5?"
She nodded.
"What about them?"
"They were taken from my books."
Penhall cocked his head, "Wait, so are you telling me that this guy is reading you're books and committing the murders being done in them."
She flinched again, "There is only one murder per book. And yes."
Hanson sat down, "So, you know who the next victims are?"
She shook her head, "I know the M.O. and a very vague description."
He cursed, "19 books? So, 19 victims?"
She nodded.
"This guy really has the public spooked," Penhall stated, I tiny smiled creeped onto her face for a second before falling,
"I'm really sorry."
Hanson shook his head, "It's not you're fault." then he looked up, "But why did you come to us?"
She sighed and sat down, "Book 19." she swallowed hard, "I killed off the author." Hanson and Penhall exchanged looks.
"So this guy is gonna try to kill you." Penhall stated.
She nodded.
Penhall hesitated, "May I ask the M.O.?"
She looked down to the floor and a tear fell from her eyes. "Decapitation."