He wished he could go back to his own room that he shared with Earl, but mom didn't want him back there until his leg had completely healed. Earl liked to tease and carry on; sometimes he would cuff Randy, causing a fight. With him in the kitchen, mom could supervise Earl's actions. His mother's tone of voice brought him out of trying to concentrate on a word for the puzzle.
“I know what's going on, but I don't want to hear any more about it,” Beth said.
Randy glanced at the adults facing each other. His mom had her hands on her hips and stood glaring at Dad.
“It's like talking to a wall,” Jeb said, throwing up his hands and storming out the front door.
“Why do you treat him like that?” Tami said, glancing toward the entry. “I'd give my right hand to have a man like Jeb.”
Beth put her face close to Tami's, almost touching noses. “You've tried before. Do it again and I'll kill you,” she hissed.
Tami stepped back, picked up her big purse from the floor, and threw the strap over her shoulder. “You don't know how to treat a man; that's why you almost lost him,” She swaggered toward the entry.
“I still have him. You don't,” Beth growled as Tami slammed the door.
Being awakened by the loud noise, Marcy let out a howl. Beth wiped her hands across her face, bent over the crib and picked up the baby.
“There, there, my sweet girl. Everything's okay.”
“Mom, how did Tami find out where we lived?”
“Grandpa probably told her. She's working out a business deal with him and your dad.”
“I don't like her, and you don't either. I hope she doesn't come back.”
“You hold your tongue, young man. How do you know my feelings?”
“Your voice was mean when you talked to her, like when you scold Earl and me for getting in a fight.”
She smiled. “But I still like you.”
“Yeah, cause we're your kids. She's not.”
“Don't worry about it. You hear me now?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Randy sighed and turned his attention to the puzzle books. His joints ached from having to be in bed all the time, and he found it hard to get comfortable. He decided tomorrow he'd get up and walk around in the kitchen before he forgot how to move his legs.
Nightfall came and Randy watched his mother light the lamps, then feed Marcy as she sang the haunting lullaby. Soon, Marcy fell asleep and was tucked into her crib. Still humming, Beth moved around the kitchen straightening up.
“Randy, turn your head, I'm going to take a bath.”
The boy rolled to his side.
Beth stripped naked and washed herself from the cistern water she'd heated on the stove. Before slipping on her flannel gown, she tried on the blouses Mrs. Casey had brought and studied herself in the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. She smiled, then took them off, and folded them neatly. After pulling on her night wear, she called to Randy. “Okay, I'm through.”
Randy loved for his mother to brush her long hair. It glistened like black diamonds in the ghostly light thrown from the lanterns around the room. She'd bend over and brush it toward the front, then tilt her head back as she made long strokes on each side, then pull the strands over her shoulder, smoothing it as she finished up. Taking a piece of long soft cloth, she'd tie the tresses together at the nape of her neck, making a lengthy ponytail.
She picked up one of the lamps, came to the cot and kissed him goodnight, then went to her bedroom. Dad and Earl never came in until the wee hours of the morning. When he questioned his mother about what they were doing, she told him not to be bothered by their activities, but he could smell a rat and vowed to find out one of these days.
Randy stared out the window at the pitch black night. It appeared a storm might be moving in with all the clouds. Not a star nor moon in sight. He could hear the whistling of the wind, and cracking tree branches which were slung against the sides of the cabin. A ghostly night like he'd expect around Halloween with witches and goblins.
He pulled the covers around his neck and crunched down into the bed, then stifled a scream when the front door flew open and banged against the wall. His heart raced until he saw his dad and Earl hurry in and push it shut. Randy quickly rolled over to face the wall, not wanting them to see he was still awake.
“Looks like a storm moving in,” his Dad said to Earl, in a hushed voice.
“Yeah, and it's cold.”
Earl went to his room, while his dad stopped at the sink, pumped water into the bucket and washed his hands. Splashing a bit onto his face, he sucked in his breath, “Man, that's freezing,” he hissed.
Taking the towel hanging on the nail next to the pump, he dried, then journeyed into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Randy turned on his back and heard the bed squeak in the other room as his dad sat on the edge, then the clunk of each boot as it hit the wooden floor. His interest perked when his mother's voice came through the thin wall.
“What kind of deal do you have going with Tami?”
“She's got some contacts.”
“I know what's going on, and I don't like her around. She's a slut, and would like to lure you to bed.”
His dad laughed. “No way will I get into that situation again. I almost lost you over the mess.”
“If there's a second time, the kids and I will disappear. I'm not happy with what you're doing.”
“It will give us some money for a change. We can fix up the cabin and make it more livable.”
“I'd rather we go about it legally. If you go back to jail, what will I do?”
“Beth, I don't want to talk no more. I've got to get some rest. Have to get up early.”
Randy could hear the bed creaking, and figured his dad had turned his back to his mom. He let out a sigh, realizing their talk still didn't reveal to him the illegal game his dad was playing. This worried Randy, because he could hear the concern in his mother's voice. He did know one thing: his mom didn't like Tami, and the discovery made him smile to himself. It bothered him Tami had caused problems in the family before. He wondered what kind.
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* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sunday morning Hawkman mowed the lawn, then decide to take Pretty Girl out to hunt. When he entered the kitchen, Jennifer glanced up from her computer.
“So have you devised a plan on how you're going to catch Jeb?”
“Ideas are forming in my mind, but I have a few days as the still was cold when I found it, so I have time before they'll be taking any into town.” He patted her on the shoulder. “I'm going to take the falcon out; she hasn't hunted in a while. It will also give me time to think.”
Jennifer nodded, and focused on the monitor.
Hawkman carried the perch he'd made to fit the Cruiser, adjusted it on the inside, then went around to the aviary. When he slipped on the leather glove, and opened the cage, the falcon squawked and flapped her wings, almost knocking off his hat. “Simmer down, girl, I know you're excited.”
Her claws grasped onto the glove without any coaching and he carried her to his vehicle. The man and his bird drove down the driveway. Hawkman at first thought he'd take her toward the Hutchinsons’ place, but decided against it, as he didn't trust Earl and his gun. He turned right, went over the bridge, then veered to the left and headed up Ager Beswick Rd., toward the house where the deaf boy, Richard, used to live. He soon parked on the side of the road, took his pet into the field, which was wet from last night's rain, and let her fly. It always amazed him to watch her soar upward, then take a sharp turn toward a cluster of trees where she'd disappear for a spell. The wind had died down, but the breeze that swept across his cheeks had a stinging chill to it.
He strolled back to the SUV and leaned against the fender while waiting for her return. Having to catch Jeb in the act of selling booze, could be very dangerous. He didn't think he should tell Jennifer about his idea until afterward, as she wouldn't go f
or it at all. The details were filtering through his brain when he heard the squawk of his pet. Strolling out to the center of the meadow, he whistled his call to her, and held up his arm. She circled several times before making a smooth landing on his forearm. Her beak showed evidence she'd found her kill.
Hawkman returned home and put the falcon into her cage. She appeared much more content. He swept out the aviary, filled the water tin, and put some dried grain into the food container. He dropped the clear protector down around the sides as the wind had kicked up and had turned quite nippy. He then went inside through the sliding door leading to the deck.
“Bet she enjoyed her trip,” Jennifer said, looking up from her computer and smiling.
“She's always much calmer when we get home from a hunt.”
Jennifer twisted in her chair. “I've got a question.”
“Okay, shoot,” he said, pushing Miss Marple off the seat next to Jennifer and lowered his lanky body.
“If Jeb takes his hooch into one of the nearby towns, do you think he'll use the buckboard or borrow Tami's car?”
“Interesting question. Why do you think Tami would lend him her car?”
Jennifer tapped her chin with a pencil. “I'm not sure. There's something about her sudden appearance that makes me wonder about her relationship with the family. Maybe she's a moonshine runner. Or what about Jacob making a trip out to the cabin and transporting the liquor?”
“You're full of good ones today. You've given me a few more things to worry about. Let's talk about all the options you've brought up.”
“Okay, where do you want to start?”
“Did you ever get Tami's last name?”
“No.”
“Hmm, makes it a little hard to research, especially since her first name could be a shortened handle. Not knowing where she lives makes it twice as hard.”
“Sorry, at the moment, knowing you were charging up the back way, and then my finding a stranger at the cabin, made it difficult for me to concentrate on my objective.”
He patted her on the arm. “I'm not scolding you. Everything went just fine. You did good.”
She bowed her head. “Thank you, kind sir.”
“You told me a little about the reactions of everyone; have you thought of anything to add?”
“No, other than she appeared very distant or cocky. I wouldn't classify her as shy, more like secretive.”
“Let's skip her right now and go to why you think Jacob might come and haul out the booze.”
“You said the still was obviously put in before the Hutchinsons moved in, and copper stills are very expensive. Knowing Jeb has no money, you assumed since the dad owned the property, he probably installed them.” She cocked her head toward Hawkman. “What if Jeb hadn't moved up here; did Jacob have plans to make the moonshine himself?”
“Hard to say. Since he's playing caregiver to his father, he probably wouldn't leave him at night, especially since the man's apparently bedridden. It's possible he had the still or stills brought to the property. Not sure what's in the other outbuilding, but it's tall enough for another one. Anyway, he could have planned to do it himself earlier, and later decided to hire men to make the rotgut.”
“I'm curious about how this moonshine is made.”
“It's really an easy process, but first you need a copper still. There are all different sizes, but the one in Jeb's outbuilding is huge. You can go on the computer and find pictures of them. To make the mash, the recipe can vary, but commonly they mix corn meal and hot water in ‘mash barrels'. Next they add scoops of sugar as well as yeast and malt. This mixture begins to bubble furiously and will continue to do so for several days as fermentation takes place.”
Jennifer sat with her chin resting on her hands, giving Hawkman her full attention. “What next?”
“When the mash quits working it has the kick of a mule and is ready to be transferred to the still. A fire is stoked underneath, and the alcohol vapor rises to the top and condenses into liquid as it passes through the coiled worm submerged in the cooling barrel. A potent rivulet, a little larger than a pencil trickles from the end of the worm into half-gallon fruit jars. The first part is high-proof while the adulterated end of the batch is known as “singlings” or “low wine", which is set aside, poured back into the still, and cooked again. So the first drops were followed by a flow of decreasing strength, or proof. If you poured some of the lower stuff on the fire and it flashed up, it would be kept running; but if it put out the fire like water, it's time to quit. Any hot liquid remaining in the still is recovered and poured over new grain in the mash barrels to repeat the process.”
“I don't get this ‘worm’ thing.”
Gesturing with his hands, Hawkman drew a picture in the air. “From the top of the still an elbow-shaped pipe juts out and tapers from around four inches to about one-inch in diameter. Attached to the end of this outlet is a twenty-foot coiled copper pipe known as the “worm". It's looped inside an adjacent barrel kept full of cold water during distillation of the sour mash.”
“Why does everything have to be copper?”
“Other metals can be toxic to the human body.”
“How does a buyer know he's getting good stuff?”
“A moonshiner might advertise the quality of his brew by pouring some into a metal spoon and set it afire. Safe moonshine burns with a blue flame. If its dirty the flame will be yellow. A reddish flare indicates lead in the mixture.”
“I've read where some of these moonshiners have blown themselves to kingdom come.”
“There has to be good ventilation, because alcohol vapor is more explosive than TNT.”
“I hope Jeb is a careful moonshiner. Those building are not too far from the cabin.”
“If you noticed in the pictures I took of the still, there are vents all around the top, plus a pipe that goes out the roof. That's why they do most of their distilling at night, so the smoke can't be seen by authorities, or others who might turn them in.”
Jennifer leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms above her head. “You're a good teacher, I could picture the whole thing in my mind.”
“Thank you,” Hawkman said. “Getting back to Jacob. I don't think he is, or will be, Jeb's runner. So it leaves our mysterious Tami's car, or the buckboard.”
“It also appears that Jeb entered the picture right on time for Jacob,” she said.
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* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Randy awoke early Sunday morning. The dawn still provided enough light for him to see the outlines of the furniture in the room. He decided to try walking around. It delighted him when he carefully stood and felt no tenderness. Taking a few steps, he smiled to himself; still no pain. He moved slowly at first, then picked up the gait and before he knew it, he galloped in a circle. Not hearing his mother open the bedroom door, he came to an abrupt halt as she stood staring at him with her hands on her hips.
“What do you think you're doing?” she asked.
“Mom, it doesn't hurt. I had to get out of bed before I forgot how to move my legs.”
She smiled. “I'm glad you decided to try it. It looks like you're on your way to getting well, but I don't want you to overdo.”
“I promise. If I use my crutches, can I go outside for a little while?”
She sighed. “You can't be happy with walking around inside?”
He shook his head. “Not the same.”
“Let's see how you feel after breakfast.”
He grinned. His mom wouldn't make such a statement, if it didn't mean she'd probably consent. Otherwise, she'd have said ‘no’ right off the bat.
Beth stoked the fire in the stove and had it burning before Marcy let out a cry. Picking up the baby, she sat down and began feeding her.
Earl came out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. “What's to eat, Mom?”
She pointed toward the cabinet. “Cold biscuits wrapped in a cloth; and there should be s
ome leftover pieces of pheasant, if your dad didn't eat it before he took off this morning. Take one of those metal plates and warm the food on the stove. Leave some for your brother.”
“Yeah, and for Mom too,” Randy cut in.
“Don't worry, there's plenty here,” Earl said, taking his share. “Where'd Dad go?”
“I don't know. He got up before daylight,” Beth said.
“How come he never tells us where he's going?” Earl asked, between bites.
“He's the head of the household, and we don't question his actions,” Beth said, looking at Earl and frowning. “I need to cut your hair. It's hanging in your eyes and touching your shoulders.”
Earl made a face. “Aah, Mom, today?”
“Why not? Have you got something special planned?”
“Thought I'd go fishing, if Dad doesn't need me, and see if I couldn't get a batch for dinner.”
“That's a good one; you can go after I trim your long locks.”
Earl scowled and finished his food. “I'll go check the horses and be back shortly.”
Beth nodded, and put Marcy back in her crib. She placed the toys around her, then watched the baby babble and grin. “You are so cute,” she said.
Meanwhile Randy went to the cabinet and brought out the remainder of food for him and his mom. “You want yours warmed, Mom?”
“Yes, that would be good.”
Randy didn't want to act too eager to get outside, as his mom might get suspicious of his motive, so he took his time eating, and played with Marcy a while. When his mother went into the bedroom to dress, he thought enough time had elapsed, so he slipped on a pair of jeans and the tee shirt Mrs. Casey had given him. He took a jacket off the peg near the door, and grabbed the crutches. “Mom, I'm going outside for a while,” he called.
About that time, Earl came in the door.
“Did you find Dad?” Randy asked.
“No, he took one of the horses, so he's probably out in the field. Where's Mom?”
“She'll be out in a minute to cut your hair,” Randy said, with a grin.
Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14] Page 11