Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14]

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I hope we find the cabin.”

  He gave her a thumbs-up as he revved up the engine, moved down the driveway and turned west. They rode a couple of miles before Hawkman slowed a bit and studied the road. He shook his head. “I don't see a sign of a road or trail.”

  Jennifer pointed. “Is that a clearing up ahead?”

  He glanced toward the area. “Could be. Let's investigate.”

  Hawkman brought the four-wheeler to a stop and hopped off. Without a trained eye, the lay person would never spot the bent grass. He dropped down on his haunches and examined the indentations. “It appears thin wheels with a heavy load have been through here.”

  “Would the mark still show after several days?” Jennifer asked.

  “Very possible.”

  “Could it have been the wagon our neighbor saw?”

  “Yes, especially, if the boys ride their bikes through here; and knowing kids, they'd try to stay in the track, making it a game of skill.”

  He climbed back on the Polaris. “Let's see where it leads.”

  Turning into the forest, the vehicle climbed through the tall grass with little effort. Hawkman followed the path. At times, the trail grew faint, and he made the decision to keep in the area where openings between the trees were wide enough for a trailer to pass. It seemed they bounced over the terrain for a good thirty minutes before Hawkman crested a hill and brought the four-wheeler to an abrupt halt.

  “Why'd you stop?” Jennifer asked.

  “I just saw a reflection up ahead in those trees.”

  “What do you think it is?”

  “Could be a gun.”

  “Maybe we're close to the cabin, and the sun is reflecting off of a window pane.”

  “I don't think so; it moved. This vehicle is not quiet and I'm sure we can be heard a mile away.”

  “Are we going to move on?”

  “You want to take the chance?”

  “If we don't, we'll never find where Randy lives.”

  “Okay, hold on.”

  Jennifer quickly grabbed hold of Hawkman as the vehicle jerked forward and bumped over some stones. He continued to slowly follow what he thought to be a faint trail through the trees, which would break out occasionally into an open area, leaving them vulnerable. Hawkman eyed the region where he'd seen the bright flash of light, but saw nothing which could have caused it. This made him more suspicious and wary of their surroundings.

  “I can smell food cooking,” Jennifer said.

  Hawkman sniffed the air. “Me, too.”

  Suddenly, a shot rang through the air, and Hawkman maneuvered the four-wheeler behind a big oak tree. “Hit the ground!” he ordered.

  Jennifer literally fell off the Polaris. Keeping low, she crawled behind the tree trunk. Hawkman followed suit and rolled in front of her, shielding her from harm.

  “Where'd the shot come from?” she asked, nervously.

  “Up front. It went over our heads like a warning.” He stood and stepped out in the open.

  “Hawkman, be careful,” she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

  He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Who's out there?”

  “What are you doing here?” a loud gruff voice boomed from the shadows.

  “Taking a ride,” Hawkman answered.

  “You're on private land,” the voice said.

  “You the owner?”

  “No, but I have permission to be here. You don't. So get your butts off the property.”

  At that moment, Jennifer whirled around when she heard a branch snap. She sucked in her breath as a long haired young man, dressed in worn jeans, tee shirt, and work boots, moved out of the foliage with a rifle aimed at her head.

  Raising both hands, she pleaded. “Don't shoot. We mean no harm. We're looking for Randy Hutchinson. Do you know him?”

  He lowered the gun. “What you want with Randy? Is he in some sort of trouble?”

  “No, not at all. He just told us his family had recently moved into the area. My husband and I thought we'd ride up and welcome them.”

  Staring at Jennifer, he yelled, “Hey, Dad, they know Randy.”

  A burly man, with a large brimmed straw hat, carrying a long barreled rifle in one hand, stepped into the light and marched toward Hawkman. Noticing the man's determined gait, Hawkman stood perfectly still, figuring the blast from such a weapon would make a huge hole in your chest.

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  * * *

  CHAPTER SIX

  When Randy heard the blast from his father's gun, he dropped the tiny airplane he'd made out of a piece of paper, and glanced at his mother who sat at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes over a bucket. His baby sister lay in a handmade cradle by her side. The half-peeled spud in his mother's hand fell into the container as she quickly stood and looked out the window. Randy ran past her, flung open the door and dashed outside.

  “Randy, wait,” she called.

  Not heeding her words, he took off in the direction of the discharge. He hoped to find a dead buck, which meant meat on the table. Instead, he saw his father step out of the dense brush and walk toward a tall man with a patch over his eye. Randy recognized his new friend, Mr. Casey, and cut back into the brush. He stayed hidden, and quietly moved along just behind the sight of his dad. Randy wanted to yell out and tell him he knew this man, but knew by his father's stubborn gait, he wouldn't be impressed with such news.

  The boy had to cut back into the forest due to an open space in the trees, but he kept advancing. Suddenly, he heard his brother talking, and stopped in his tracks when he heard a woman's voice responding. He hunkered down behind a bush, peeked around the edge and there stood Earl, with his rifle pointed at Mrs. Casey's head.

  Randy's heart pounded against his ribs so hard it made his chest hurt. “No!” he screamed, as he sprang from his hiding place and dived into his brother head first.

  The weapon flew from Earl's hands, crashed to the ground and went off. Randy let out a cry as he crumbled to the ground.

  Jennifer stood paralyzed in shock for a few seconds before she realized what had happened. “Oh, my God,” she said, as she raced to the boy's side. “Hawkman, help,” she cried.

  Crashing through the brush, Hawkman dashed toward Jennifer, thinking something had happened to her. He found her kneeling over Randy, who lay in a puddle of blood.

  “He's been hit in the thigh, and I need to stop the bleeding,” she said.

  Hawkman yanked off his belt and wrapped it around the boy's leg above the wound. “We've got to get him to the hospital or he might die. Have you got your cell phone?”

  Jennifer reached into her fanny pack. “Yes.”

  “See if you can get a signal and call 911. Have them send in the helicopter behind the fire station.” Hawkman picked up the boy in his arms, and jogged toward the four-wheeler, with Jennifer at his heels. “You'll have to drive; he's too heavy for you to carry.”

  He slid onto the back, holding the boy in his arms.

  “I reached emergency,” she said, as she jumped into the driver's seat, and pushed the starter.

  The man who'd pursued Hawkman, stepped in front of the four-wheeler. “I'm his father. Where you takin’ my boy?”

  “Get out of my way, Mr. Hutchinson, or I'll run you over,” Jennifer yelled, with narrowed eyes.

  “If we don't get your son to a doctor, he'll die due to the loss of blood.”

  “How'd he get shot?”

  “Ask the young man back in the brush,” she said, pointing, as she turned the machine around and headed toward the lake as fast as the Polaris could go. The siren at the fire station had already spewed out several rounds of long wails by the time they pulled in front. A couple of the volunteer paramedics had arrived and took Randy from Hawkman's arms and began administering First Aid.

  Soon, they heard the rotors of the helicopter hovering over the building, and using expert maneuvers, landed behind the station on the des
ignated pad. Randy groaned as the men moved him onto the gurney and slid it into the chopper. Soon it lifted off, swung clear of the high lines and climbed into the sky.

  Jennifer watched, then glanced at Hawkman who stood covered in Randy's blood. “Honey, you better go shower and change clothes.”

  He pointed west up the road. “I will, after we talk to them.”

  She turned her gaze toward the two people on horseback, racing toward the fire station. “I hope there's not a problem.”

  “It's a little late, Randy's on his way to get help. Let's pray he survives.”

  The two riders pulled their steeds to a quick stop, and jumped down. They tied their horses to the fence and confronted Hawkman and Jennifer.

  “What have you done with Randy?”

  Jennifer's mouth dropped open when she realized the dark brown eyes belonged to a woman.

  “He's on his way to the Medford Hospital in the Medevac helicopter. We had to get him help fast. Are you his mother?”

  Her mouth trembled. “Yes. How bad is he hurt?”

  “We're not doctors, but knew he was losing a lot of blood.”

  She glanced at Hawkman. “I can see from your clothes, my boy might not live.”

  “He's young and healthy,” he said. “He has a good chance of pulling through just fine.”

  Turning to the man beside her, she said, “Jeb, I've got to go to him.”

  He raised his hands in frustration. “Beth, how do you plan to get there? We have no means of transportation except the horse drawn wagon.”

  “I want you to take me into town and I'll catch a bus.” She headed for the steed she'd ridden.

  “Mrs. Hutchinson,” Jennifer said, stepping forward. “I'll take you to Medford.”

  “That's very kind of you. I first have to fetch my baby girl I left at home with her older brother. Jeb will bring me back as soon as I can get ready. Where do you live?”

  Jennifer pointed across the street. “I'll be waiting.”

  Beth untied the horse, threw the reins over its head, put her foot in the stirrup and flung her other leg across the saddle. She kicked the mount in the flanks and took off in a full gallop up the road.

  Jeb glared at Hawkman. “I will talk to you later,” he said, jumping on his horse and taking off after his wife.

  “You're doing quite a favor for strangers who had guns at our heads just an hour ago,” Hawkman said.

  “She's a mother. I can relate to the feeling.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “Only if Mr. Hutchinson decides to go. He tends to frighten me.”

  “Okay, I better get home and clean up, just in case.”

  Hawkman drove the Polaris back to the house and put it under the lean-to. Jennifer walked across the street, went inside and rummaged through the refrigerator pulling out condiments.

  By the time Hawkman had showered and dressed, Jennifer had several sandwiches made and put two in a paper bag along with chips, sodas and candy bars. He furrowed his brow. “How long do you plan to stay in Medford?”

  “These are for Mrs. Hutchinson. I doubt she's had time to prepare any food to take. As far as answering your question. I have no idea. It will depend on Randy's condition.”

  They'd no more chugged down their own sandwiches, when the noise of snorting and pawing of horses sounded outside. Jennifer watched out the window as Beth, with no help from her husband, and clinging to the small bundle in her arms, climbed out of the wagon. He did reach down and toss a small duffle bag to the ground. The minute she got out of the way, he turned the wagon around and headed back up the road.

  Jennifer opened the front door. “Please come in out of the cold while I throw a few things together; then we'll get on the road.”

  Beth stepped inside and her eyes grew wide. “Oh, my, you have a nice place.”

  “Thank you,” Jennifer said, as she reached over and pushed back the flap of the blanket covering the baby's face and smiled. “She's beautiful. What's her name?”

  “Marcy. She's my pride.”

  Jennifer hooked her fanny pack around her waist, took a jacket from the cloak closet, and grabbed the bag of sandwiches. “I've made sandwiches for you, as I figured you didn't have time to eat.”

  “You're very kind.”

  “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, I'm really worried about my boy. I hope he's still alive.”

  Hawkman followed the two women out to Jennifer's Ford Escape. “Mrs. Hutchinson, try not to worry too much about Randy. I'm sure he'll be fine,” he said, helping her into the vehicle.

  “Call me Beth. I don't cotton to the Mrs. Hutchinson stuff.”

  “Very well, Beth it is.”

  Jennifer backed out of the garage, waved at Hawkman, drove down the driveway, and just as she started over the bridge, a beeping sound penetrated the interior. She pulled to the side and stopped. “You forgot to put on your seat belt.”

  “My what?”

  She reached across the woman and pulled the belt across her body, making sure she didn't have the baby caught, then clicked it into place. “There, now we're ready. Let's just pray we don't get pulled over by the police, as the baby should be in an infant car seat.”

  She glanced at Jennifer with fear in her eyes. “Would they take my Marcy away?”

  “No, but we'd probably get a hefty ticket.”

  “I'd kill someone if they'd try to take my child.”

  Feeling uneasy about the topic, Jennifer continued across the bridge, and decided to change the subject. “When did you move to the area?”

  “Two or so months ago.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “No, I hate it.”

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  * * *

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Not sure how to take Beth's response, Jennifer squirmed in the seat. “What don't you like?”

  “All of it. I don't have running water or electricity. It's hard. Especially with a baby. We have little money, and our clothes are threadbare. However, Jeb seems to find the cash to buy ammunition. Guess I shouldn't complain; at least he puts meat on the table.”

  “Where did you live before moving here?”

  Beth stared out the side window. “I've said enough. How much farther before we reach the hospital?”

  “We'll be there within thirty minutes.” Jennifer stole a glance toward the woman with the large knitted shawl draped over her head which fell across her shoulders. She wondered if this was the warmest garment she owned. “Marcy is certainly a good baby. She hasn't made a sound since we left.”

  “She's starting to squirm. I'll feed her before we go in to see Randy.” She shot a glance toward Jennifer. “You will go in with me, won't you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank goodness. I wouldn't know the first thing about finding my boy.”

  Darkness had fallen by the time they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Jennifer found an empty slot near the front entrance and the women went inside. Taking matters into her own hands, Jennifer went straight to the information desk and asked about Randy Hutchinson. The woman keyed up her computer, then glanced at her.

  “Are you the boy's mother?”

  “No, but I have her with me.”

  “I will need to speak with Mrs. Hutchinson.”

  Jennifer motioned for Beth to come to the desk.

  “May I have your full name, please.”

  “Beth Marie Hutchinson.”

  “Mrs. Hutchinson, your son is still in ICU. You may go see him, but the baby won't be allowed inside.”

  She nodded. “Where's the ICU?”

  The receptionist gave instructions, and the two women headed down the hallway. When they reached the big double doors, they stopped outside.

  “Let me have Marcy and you go ahead,” Jennifer said.

  “She might fuss a little because she won't be used to your arms.”

  Jennifer smiled. “That's okay, we'll manage.”<
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  Beth pushed the shawl off her head and ran her fingers through her hair. “I probably look a mess.”

  “You're a worried mother. Now, go find your son.”

  Jennifer noticed a window on the other side of the door and walked over, as she gently rocked the baby. From here she could view the patients in the ward and spotted Randy about the same time as Beth. When the boy realized his mother stood by his side, he raised both arms and embraced her. Jennifer could tell immediately, by the smile on his face, that the two shared quite a bond.

  She walked down to the end of the hallway as Marcy made fussing noises. When she found a seat, she sat down and placed the baby on her thighs so she could see her better. The child opened big blue eyes and stared at her. “You are certainly a pretty little thing.”

  Not impressed, Marcy stuck out her lower lip, closed her eyes and whimpered. Jennifer rose and realized the baby needed changing. Since Beth had not left any diapers, Jennifer nabbed a nurse, who immediately brought her a couple. Going into the restroom, she found a changing table and unwound the blanket from around the baby. It amazed her to find the child dressed only in a flimsy wrap with a rag for a diaper. Her small body appeared rash free, and she looked very healthy. “No wonder your mother holds you so close. Keeps you warm, doesn't it, pretty little girl?”

  Marcy flapped her arms as if giving thanks for the dry cloth. Jennifer wrapped the small body back into the blanket and tucked the extra diaper into one of the folds. “Okay, little one, glad you feel better. Now, let's go find your mama.”

  When she returned to the ICU, Beth had not left Randy's side. A chair had been supplied and she sat beside the bed, holding her son's hand. A doctor stood talking to them. Jennifer wondered about the diagnosis.

  Soon the physician left and Beth stood. She spoke briefly to Randy and pointed toward the door. When she came out, Jennifer handed her Marcy. “She's been as good as gold. Especially after I changed her.”

  Beth's cheeks flushed. “How foolish of me, I didn't bring any clean diapers.”