More Harry Hogan stories!
Harry Hogan balanced on one foot just long enough to give the bottom of the office door a swift kick. “Hey, Blackett! Open the door.”
He heard her quick footsteps, and then the door swung open. “Hogan, I…” She stared at him for all of five seconds. “What…?”
He put one foot forward. “Stand aside, woman. There’s more than Styrofoam in these boxes.”
Bertie’s eyebrows scrunched into a frown. “What on earth have you picked up now?”
“One minute.” Harry laid the two boxes on the floor, straightened up, and took a deep breath. “Are you ready to set up your own work station?”
“What are you…?” She paused and shook her head. “Hogan, you didn’t.”
He grinned. “Nope. I got it from a friend of a friend who just installed a new one with all the latest bells and whistles for gaming. This one just needed a new home. All the old gaming stuff was removed and it’s been updated for normal office work and research.”
“But… you don’t need two computers for a one-man operation. And I’m just a volunteer… not an employee.”
Hogan laughed. “Since we only charge enough to cover expenses, basically we’re both volunteers. And two computers look more professional – especially with two desks.”
“I suppose so, but the desk you brought in for me last week was enough.”
“That was a salvage job. The owner was throwing it out,” he replied, rubbing his chin. “I just refinished it.”
“That’s true,” she agreed
“Look at it this way,” he said. “I like solving minor problems for others, things that don’t require police intervention. You also enjoy helping others, especially with research. Am I right?”
She nodded, wondering where this was leading.
“We’re providing a community service… and, with you here, we can expand on what we do.”
“What do you mean – expand?”
“Apart from the little mysteries we solve, there’s also a need for research services, something completely out of my league.”
Bertie frowned. “What kind of research? I’m not exactly an expert.”
“Genealogy,” Harry said. “It’s a big thing these days, and I know you’ve helped a lot of people get started. Now you can do it on office time… for a nominal fee.”
She looked at him, head cocked to one side. “it would be nice not to have people coming to the house at all hours. I’d have evenings for my own projects.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Care to share?”
Much to Bertie’s relief, their conversation was interrupted by the door opening.
A man came in, of medium height, slightly chubby, his face and head cleanly shaven. He looked at Harry. “Are you Mr. Hogan?”
“That’s me,” Harry said, “and this is my associate, Ms Blackett.”
“Nice to meet you both,” the man replied. “I’m Logan, Hugh Logan.”
“What can we do for you, Mr. Logan?”
“I… I know this will sound crazy but… I swear it’s the truth.”
“We’re here to help if we can, Mr. Logan, not to judge,” Bertie said, as she proceeded to unpack and set up the computer on her recently refurbished desk.
Harry pointed to the visitor chairs. “Have a seat and tell us what’s on your mind.”
Mr. Logan took a deep breath. “I saw… that is, I THINK I saw a UFO last night.”
“Time and place?” Harry prompted.
“I was coming back from the city, just after midnight. Looked to me like it was over the multi-purpose field, the one where the kids play all sorts of games and things.”
Harry nodded. “We know the place. Can you describe what you saw?”
