Maple Hills Mystery Box Set Vol. 2
Includes Books 5 - 8
Wendy Meadows
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Contents
Georgia Peach Truffle Murder
Gold Flake Chocolate Murder
Coconut Chocolate Murder
Turkey Truffle Murder
Thanks for Reading
About the Author
Read more by Wendy
Georgia Peach Truffle Murder
Book Five
1
Hawk wasn't happy his friend transferred to Atlanta, Georgia from Manhattan; Nikki, on the other hand, was excited. “Oh come on,” she told Hawk, sitting in a traffic jam on I-75 heading into Atlanta, “stop being a grouch, Hawk. After we see your friend, we can drive to my hometown, see my parents, and I can show you around.”
Hawk rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't want Nikki showing her old stomping grounds to him. He was bothered. Jack Mills was brought to Atlanta under the lie that he needed a special cardiologist that worked at St. Joseph's Hospital. Hawk knew better. Sure, Jack had gone into heart failure while the surgeons back in New York were digging a bullet out of his chest, but that didn't mean the man had a heart problem. Jack's heart had stopped due to an allergic reaction from the anesthesia; or so Hawk was told. Even if Jack did need a cardiologist, New York had plenty of qualified doctors. No, something was wrong; Jack was shipped into the Deep South because his life was still in danger.
Banging on the horn, Hawk raised his hand at a white BMW sitting in front of him. “Move it!” he yelled. Sweating from the heat and choking from vehicle fumes, Hawk glanced at Nikki. “Sorry about the AC,” he said.
Even though Nikki was sweating, she felt comfortable. The soft, cotton, blue dress she was wearing was keeping her body cool. She also had her long hair tied up in a tight bun, keeping her neck open to any hopeful breeze. Hawk, on the other hand, was wearing a brown button-up shirt that was obviously hot and uncomfortable. Nikki held back a giggle. “You look like a baked potato.”
Hawk glanced down at his shirt. “I want to look presentable when I see Jack, okay?” he said. Reaching down, he snatched up a warm bottle of water sitting in the cup holder. “We're already an hour late,” he complained, chugging the water.
“Will you relax?” Nikki said, picking up her own bottle of water. “We called the hospital. Your friend knows we're going to be late. Morning work traffic is a disease around here.”
“Is it always this hot? It's barely nine in the morning,” Hawk grumped, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“Georgia is in a heat wave,” Nikki replied. To her relief, the traffic began to ease forward some. “Hawk...” Nikki said, looking up at the beautiful Atlanta skyline, “what's bothering you? Your friend Jack is alive. You were told he's going to make a full recovery. I would expect you to be thrilled with that kind of good news.”
Hawk began to chew on his bottom lip. He still had to fight his way down I-75 just to get to the 285 bypass. Sticking his left elbow out the driver's window, he eased the jeep forward while absorbing the sights and sounds of Atlanta. The city itself, he thought, was truly amazing. There was something distinct and mysterious about being in the Deep South. Sure, the south had its own share of crime (hadn't crime from the south invaded his cozy hometown in Vermont?). But still, Atlanta felt...well...southern, and all the small southern towns sitting outside of Atlanta, like little children swimming in a cold pond on a hot day, felt...inviting. “Nikki,” Hawk said as a semi-truck eased up on his left, “I...”
Nikki looked at Hawk. She waited. When Hawk didn't finish his sentence, she gently rubbed his arm. “Hawk?”
Hawk waited until a green Honda eased past the jeep on the right before answering. The Honda was blaring some kind of street music that seemed to shake the ground. A kid who looked no older than sixteen was sitting behind the steering wheel of the Honda talking on a cell phone. Hawk shook his head. “How can he even hear himself think?”
Nikki shrugged his shoulders. “Kids today will make hearing aid companies very rich in the future. Now, Hawk, what's bothering you?”
Hawk put down the bottle of water in his hand. “We nearly died on a cruise ship, Nikki; we're lucky to be alive. We could be living at the bottom of the sea right now. The last thing you or I both need is to be thrown into another case.”
Hawk's words confirmed Nikki's suspicion. “Hawk, you believe your friend Jack was transferred to Atlanta because his life is in danger, don't you?”
“Yes,” Hawk confessed. “Nikki, Jack was shot by a man in a suit, not some street thug. He was investigating the human trafficking of illegal immigrants into Manhattan. Now, I'm all for sending illegal immigrants back to the country they came from and making them enter this country legally, the same way our ancestors did, but regardless if people are here legally or illegally, they’re still people with rights.”
“Forcing illegal immigrants to become forced slave laborers is horrible,” Nikki agreed soberly.
Hawk jerked his head sideways and looked at Nikki. “How did you know...why even ask? You heard me speaking to Jack's partner, didn't you?”
Nikki innocently shrugged her shoulders. “Hawk, I didn't mean to hear your conversation, honestly.”
“Sure you didn't,” Hawk said and grinned. “You little sneak.”
“I was worried, okay?” Nikki confessed. “And it's obvious you're still worried. Do you believe the person who tried to kill your friend will try and finish the job?”
“It's possible,” Hawk told Nikki. Looking over at the semi-truck sitting next to his jeep, Hawk shook his head. “What I wouldn't give to trade places with the driver of that rig. Sitting tall in your saddle, America opened up before you, going where the road leads; a man can breathe that way, you know?”
“Maybe on the drive back to Vermont we can take a few detours?” Nikki suggested. Examining Hawk's face, she saw fatigue eating through the man's eyes. “Hawk, you look so tired. Honey, after we see your friend, I'll drive us to my parents’ home. We'll have a good dinner, rest, and tomorrow we'll spend the entire day walking around my hometown. We'll even have lunch at Mrs. Owens’ Café. She makes the best fried okra in the south.”
Hawk liked that Nikki called him “Honey.” It felt right. Reaching over, he patted Nikki’s knee. “Sound's good, Nikki. I guess I am a little tired. I didn't sleep well in the hotel last night; the bed was all lumpy. I think the desk clerk gave you the good room and me the bad room on purpose.”
Nikki smirked. “The desk clerk was an eighteen-year-old boy who wanted to marry me and saw you as the big lug standing in his way,” she told Hawk. “Poor kid seemed like he had never had a date in his life. I felt sorry for him.”
“Feel sorry for my aching back,” Hawk fussed. Finally, to his relief, the traffic began moving at a steady pace. “About time,” Hawk growled, pushing his jeep past the second gear.
“We could move to Atlanta,” Nikki began to tease. Old memories of her life in Atlanta began flooding her mind. Leaning back in her seat, she grew silent and looked out the passenger's window at the tall buildings. So many memories, Nikki thought...so many memories.
Hawk glanced at Nikki. Noticing her eyes become sad, he began to say something but decided to remain silent. Sometimes a woman needed to be left alone.
2
After fighting through traffic and arriving at the hospital, Hawk and Nikki walked into a comfortably sized hospital room that appeared to b
e more of a luxury suite than a room meant to house sick people. “Hey, Jack,” Hawk said, admiring the room, “I see they're letting you really live it up.”
Nikki stood near the door and watched Hawk shake the hand of a man his own age. She was surprised to see that Jack Mills was a very short, overweight man with thick, curly black hair and a thick, black mustache. She had expected to see a tough looking New York cop that went around saying “Forget about it, we cracked that case years ago.” Jack spotted Nikki. “Say, who is the hot pepper?”
Hawk laughed. “Cool it, Jack,” he said, “or that woman will skin your hide. Nikki, come over here and say hello to Jack Mills.”
Nikki politely walked over to the hospital bed Jack was lying in. She noticed that it didn’t seem as if Jack had any family there; she didn't spot any get well cards or balloons either. The flat screen TV, hanging on the wall in front of the hospital bed, was off. Jack wasn't even attached to an IV. The man was wearing personal gray pajamas and had a crossword book open in his lap. “Forgive me for saying this,” she said, shaking Jack's hand, “but you look well for a man who just had a bullet removed from his chest.”
Hawk had made the same observation as Nikki, but felt it was better for Jack to take the lead before asking any questions. “Yeah, you look real good, Jack.”
Jack Mills stared up at Hawk. “I was wearing my vest,” he told Hawk, his eyes becoming serious. “Hawk, I was set up.”
Hawk stared down into his friend's face. He and Jack had made their way through the academy together, eventually becoming partners for two years before Hawk made detective. Jack wasn't a liar or the type of man to play games. The man was a top cop in Hawk's book. And as Hawk looked into his eyes, he saw a fear that only a true cop could present to another cop. “What's going on, Jack?”
Jack nodded his head at Nikki. “Is she okay?”
“She's my partner,” Hawk assured Jack. “We work as a team in Vermont.”
Jack studied Nikki's beautiful face. Behind the beauty, he saw a brilliance that set him at ease. “Okay, she's good in my book, then.”
Hawk sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. “Talk to me, Jack. What's going on?”
“I don't know,” Jack confessed. “Hawk, you know I had Stan, my partner, call you. Stan's a good guy. Did he pass along the information?”
Hawk nodded his head. “A little on the reluctant side, but yeah. He explained you two were investigating a company that was using illegal immigrants as slave labor. Human trafficking straight from the border.”
“Yeah, Stan is scared stiff. But he owes me, Hawk. I saved his butt, not once, but twice,” Jack explained, holding up two fingers. “Before I left New York, I slipped him a note with instructions to call you.”
“Was your partner with you when you got shot?” Nikki asked Jack.
Jack shook his head. “No, I was solo.”
Hawk bit his lower lip. “Jack, let's take it slow. To begin with, Stan refused to release the name of the company you two were investigating. Let's begin there, okay?”
Jack stared at Hawk. “Hawk, I called you because I need your help; you're a good man. Honest and loyal to your Oath. Stan...he's a good cop, but his backbone is made of jelly. He has brains, but no guts, if you catch my drift.”
“I understand,” Hawk said in a tired voice. “Let's walk down the tracks slowly, Jack. What company were you investigating?”
Jack hesitated. “Hawk, if I tell you, I'll be putting your life in danger. But...if I don't...” Jack struggled to find steady ground to stand on. “Oh man, I'm in it deep, Hawk; I need a real partner, not a guy with a jellyfish backbone. We weren't partners for very long in the old days, but Hawk, you were the best partner a cop could ask for. Cops like you are a dying breed.”
Hawk patted Jack's ankle. “I'm here, Jack. I'll stand by you, just like we stood by each other in the old days. You can trust me on that. If your life is in danger, don't expect me to stick to the shallow end of the pool, okay?”
“Same thing applies to me,” Nikki assured Jack with a comforting smile.
Jack let out a grateful smile. “Guys,” he said, “you have no idea what that means to me. Okay,” Jack steadied himself, “the company I was investigating is a construction firm called Dellington and Haim. These guys are located in the Sour Apple, Los Angeles, Denver, Seattle, Dallas, Boston, and right here in Atlanta. Hawk, we're talking billions of dollars, here...mostly blood money. Criminal politicians love to line their pockets and pass corrupt laws that support the bad guys, but hey, you know that.”
“Yeah,” Hawk said in a disgusted voice. “So Jack, Dellington and Haim, they're—”
“Buying people at discount prices,” Jack interrupted Hawk and glanced up at Nikki. “There's people who gather up groups of illegal immigrants like cattle...poor people just wanting to come to America and have a better life, but illegally. So these slugs gather these poor people up, smuggle them across the border and sell them. Dellington and Haim save billions on cheap, forced slave labor. Imagine paying a poor sap just enough money to buy a bag of rice rather than pay a professional worker top salary. We're talking entire families, too...dad, mom, kids, all put to work while living in conditions a rat wouldn't live in. And if they try to escape...well, thugs with guns make sure no escapes take place. Ever look closely at a construction site?”
Nikki glanced at Hawk with sad eyes and then focused back on Jack. “You must have made a few people worried,” she said.
Jack shrugged his shoulders. “I went undercover after I received an anonymous tip. Dellington and Haim were constructing a new Cloud Sniffer a few blocks from the Empire State Building. The foreman in charge, some jerk named Matting, hired me when I pretended to be a drunk who would work day labor for a bottle of booze.”
Hawk chewed on the information Jack had presented to him so far. “Okay, so you wedged your way in, then what?”
Jack leaned forward, threw his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. “I played it cool for a few days, and then, casually started talking to a few workers, asking questions in a way that seemed natural, you know. Now, unknown to me, there was a man named José who was mighty upset that he and his family were working as slaves. One day, this José comes up to me at lunch and begins to blabber his mouth off...venting, you know? I really hit the jackpot.”
“What did this man tell you?” Nikki asked.
Jack stretched his arms. “He told me all about the slugs rounding up illegals and selling them to Dellington and Haim. José was told that he and his family would be sent to New York to work for a construction company who would pay them while assisting them in becoming legal citizens. He told me the slugs that rounded him and his family up were real smooth talkers...I mean these people could talk slime off a snail, from José's point of view. Anyway, José began naming certain people and—” Jack paused.
“What?” Hawk asked, alarmed. Nikki tensed up.
“Hawk, Dellington and Haim have no idea where I am. If they find out I'm alive, well, you can send flowers to my funeral. I was sent to this hospital by Agent Norris...Agent Norris turned up dead,” Jack explained, his voice wavering. “Agent Norris wanted me out of New York, so he set up this whole deal.”
Hawk stood up from the hospital bed. “Jack,” he said, “Nikki and I walked right in here. There was no security anywhere to be seen. I would suspect that if an FBI agent was killed because of his involvement with you, the FBI would have security all over this hospital.”
Nikki caught on to Hawk's statement. Jack slowly nodded at her. “Dellington and Haim want to know where I am. Luckily for me, Agent Norris kept my location secret from everyone. Agent Norris acted alone, you two.”
Nikki read Jack's face. “This Agent Norris, he walked outside the line, didn't he?”
Jack sighed. “Guys, Agent Norris was married to a woman from Mexico. This woman's brother was killed at a construction site belonging to Dellington and Haim. Needless to say, the man's death was no accident. Agent
Norris becomes involved, begins to uncover the truth; shortly after I come walking along, find out information Agent Norris is hungering for, and then I get shot. But, as you can both see, I'm very much alive. So what does Agent Norris do? He jumps into the gray zone, drives me to this hospital because he has a doctor friend here, and tells me to stay put. No calls, no contact with anyone, no nothing. So yesterday I sneak into a patient's room...some guy who was unconscious...rummage through his clothes, find a cell phone, make a call to Norris's wife, and find out the bad news.”
“Agent Norris was killed after your partner called me, too.” Hawk pointed out.
Jack shrugged his hands in the air. “Hawk, I'm sitting here on ice. I don't know what to do. I figured Agent Norris was driving weary minded. The man has a personal vendetta that was blurring his vision. But what could I do? Agent Norris told me the FBI was protecting Dellington and Haim. If I wanted to stay alive, well, Agent Norris was my only exit door to take.”
“Get dressed,” Hawk ordered Jack. “We're leaving.”
“Wait,” Nikki said, organizing the information in her mind. “Jack, who is this doctor friend of Agent Norris?”
“Dr. Fred Falton. Nice guy, a little stuffy. And let me tell you, Dr. Falton went to the mat for Agent Norris when he brought me here. But, as far as I could tell, the two of them went way back, so Dr. Falton admitted me under the pretense that I required numerous testing done on my ticker.”
Nikki studied the fancy hospital room. “They sure housed you in a nice room.”
“Agent Norris's idea,” Jack explained. “Dr. Falton wanted to stuff me in a crummy room, but Agent Norris insisted that I be admitted to this floor. Don't ask me why. I should have asked questions, but Agent Norris was already working on fumes, Hawk. After I was admitted, he told me to stay put, rushed back to the airport and took off for New York. I never saw the guy again.”
Maple Hills Mystery Box Set Page 1