Chapter 3Wolfe looked down at the resume on his desk. “You worked for the Open-Hands Center downtown?” He glanced up at the man sitting across him.
The man, whose name was Richard, blew his nose loudly and shrugged. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said, stuffing the used tissue into his sleeve. He was Wolfe’s second interview today. Late fifties, thin, well-dressed, with dark, somewhat malicious eyes. Something about the man felt off. “For five years, son.”
Son? Wolfe shot Zack a look of disbelief.
Zack who was assisting him in the interview process, leaned in closer to the desk. “So,” he asked the man, “you must know Nancy, then?”
“Nancy, yeah, of course I know her. I worked for that cunt for two years.”
“Well,” Wolfe said, looking over at Zack, “I appreciate you coming down here to meet us
