Earl doubled up his fist and waved it in front of Randy's nose. “Don't get smart. She'll cut yours next.”
“Enough, boys,” Beth said walking into the kitchen. She pulled out the shears and motioned for Earl to sit on the stool.
Randy went out and closed the door behind him. A cool breeze swirled around his head and he pulled up the collar to cover his neck. He took a deep breath. “So good to be outside,” he said, aloud. He glanced in all directions, but didn't see his dad, so decided he'd take a chance and venture toward the building where his dad had knocked him down. Maybe he could see inside. Randy knew the contents of those sheds had something to do with whatever made his mother unhappy.
He clomped along on the crutches and it seemed to take forever, even though the structures weren't far from the cabin.
Randy discovered the door was padlocked with a chain and he couldn't get it open. The windows were covered with dark curtains on the inside, forbidding him even a peek. He maneuvered to the next one and found the same predicament, but from this one he could hear a strange sound, like bubbling or something boiling. “What the heck,” he muttered. He moved around the structure but found no peephole.
Figuring he'd been snooping long enough, and Earl would be coming out before long, he moved on to the corral and stood watching the horses. Soon, his older brother joined him.
“What are you doing out here, runt?”
Randy hated being called that, but decided not to cause a problem. “Just watchin’ the horses. I needed some fresh air and Mom said I could go for a walk. So guess I've been out long enough.”
“Yeah, she told me to tell you to get back inside, wimp”
Heading back to the cabin, Randy yelled over his shoulder. “Cute haircut,”
“Shut up, brat.”
Randy snickered as he chugged along. When he got even with the second outbuilding, he glanced back to make sure Earl wasn't watching, then put his ear against the wooden side. He could still hear the bubbling noise and swore the siding felt warm to his skin. A knot hole caught his eye and he tried to see through it, but to no avail. However, a strange smell seeped through the tiny opening. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye a movement caught his attention. He jerked his head around and spotted his dad riding a horse, galloping toward the cabin. Quickly stepping away from the structures, Randy went swinging toward the cabin entry on the crutches.
Jeb came to a stop and dismounted. “Hello, Son, good to see ya out.”
“Hi, Dad. Mom let me go for a walk. Sure feels good to get outside. I went as far as the corral, so thought I better get back before she got worried.”
His father opened the saddle packs and took out several small dead birds. “Take these in to your ma, she might want to fix them tonight for supper.”
Randy managed to slip the small doves into his large jacket pockets.
Jeb mounted the horse and headed for the corral. “I'm going to rub down the horse, then I'll be up.”
Randy noticed the lather on the beast's body, and figured he'd been run hard. His dad's shotgun hung in the scabbard on the side of the saddle. Going toward the front door, he tread a bit slower, so the birds wouldn't fall out. He glanced back toward the outbuildings and still wondered about the strange sound and odor. When he reached the cabin, he shoved open the door with his shoulder. “Hey, Mom, Dad just got home and told me to give you these.” He unloaded the fowl into the sink. “He said he'd be up shortly after he rubbed down the horse. “Boy, that horse was lathered from head to tail. Wonder why Dad ran him so hard?”
“Could be several reasons,” Beth said, examining the kill.
When she didn't explain her comment, Randy removed his jacket and hung it on one of the pegs by the door, stood the crutches in the corner, then went to the crib where Marcy lay on her tummy, babbling at the colorful rag doll propped in the corner. “You know, Mom, she's really adorable.”
“Yes, she is. She's acting more like a person now, and fun to play with.” Beth said, as she stoked the fire in the stove, then set a bucket of water on the top to heat up so she could pluck the feathers from the fowl.
Jeb walked in the door just as Beth plunged one of the doves into the steamy pail. “You gonna fix those for supper?”
“Yes, I like fresh birds.”
“Save one for me, I won't be here to eat.”
Beth raised a brow. “Oh, where will you be?”
“Gotta go into town. Have a meeting.”
“Are you riding one of the horses? Or taking the wagon?”
“Neither.”
She glanced at him. “Then pray tell me how you're going to get there, walk?”
“Tami's picking me up in about an hour.”
Beth jerked her head around and glared at her husband. “Tami? When did you make this arrangement?”
“The other day when she visited us. You got so mad I didn't tell you.”
“You think this is making me happy?”
Randy stared at his mother and he knew that angry look. Her eyes narrowed and flickered with specks of red fire. The corners of her mouth had turned down, and she dunked those birds one at a time in the hot water, then ripped off the feathers with one swoop of her hand.
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* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Randy edged over to his cot and pretended to be reading the puzzle books, but shifted his body so he could watch his parents out of the corner of his eye. His mother's fury only blossomed as she worked. She banged a big skillet onto the top of the stove, slammed the cabinet door when she removed the can of lard from the shelf. Her mannerisms were swift and jerky as she took her anger out on cooking.
His dad leaned back in a straight chair, the two front legs lifted from the floor, smoking a corn cob pipe as he watched her. “Beth, I'll probably be back before you go to bed. This meeting can't take long.”
“Why can't your dad take you?”
“Tami made the connection.”
“I see,” she said, never looking at him.
He leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. “If I can get some money coming in, I can buy an older pickup and we'd have our own wheels, so we don't have to depend on others.”
She pointed a flour laden finger at him. “We do just fine with the horses and the buckboard. Emergencies, like Randy getting shot in the leg, were the only times we needed help.”
He nodded. “I know, but I need a truck for the business.”
Beth remained quiet as she coated the birds in flour. The carcass of each one sizzled as she carefully slid it into the big skillet full of hot grease.
When the sound of a horn honking came from outside, Jeb stood, put on his hat, and slipped on a jacket. “I'll see you in a few hours.”
Randy observed his mother, and could see the set line of her jaw. She wasn't at all happy about this situation. He decided to say nothing, as he knew he'd be told not to question grown-ups’ business.
* * * *
The Caseys had eaten an early dinner and Jennifer happened to be at the kitchen sink cleaning up when she spotted Tami's car drive by.
“Looks like that woman I told you about is heading for the Hutchinson's place,” she said, over her shoulder,
Hawkman walked to the window with the newspaper in his hand. “You mean the sexy Tami?” he said, glancing out the window.
“Yes.”
“Let's keep a watch for when she drives back by.”
“It could be hours.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I'll watch the bridge. It was an older tan Corolla, right?”
“Right.”
Hawkman meandered back to his chair and pivoted it so he faced the lake. Miss Marple sat at his feet begging for attention. “Okay, girl, get up here,” he said, patting his thigh. The cat hopped up, nestled in his lap, and immediately began purring.
Jennifer finished up in the kitchen and spread the dish towels out on the counter to dry. When she looked out the window, her mout
h dropped open. “Get your binoculars and check the passenger in Tami's car. It sure looks like Jeb.”
He dropped the paper and put the glasses to his face. “Yep. It's him.”
She walked to the kitchen bar, and drummed her fingers on the counter. “What in the heck are those two doing together? I thought Tami was Beth's friend.”
“You said she had eyes for Jeb.”
“I wonder if Beth knows he's with her?”
Hawkman watched the car until it drove out of sight going toward town, then placed the binoculars back on the table. “How could she not know?”
“He could have met Tami in the field. There's quite a stretch between the road and the cabin.”
“True. Don't you think he's taking a chance? Earl would have probably spotted him getting in the car.”
“Maybe we're making something out of nothing. This could all be very innocent.”
“I doubt it,” Hawkman said. “There's nothing blameless here, but how is it all tied together?”
“You think Tami has something to do with the moonshining mess?”
“Give me a good reason why you think she doesn't.”
“How would a woman fit into the picture?”
Hawkman held up a finger. “Number one, she has a vehicle.”
“So does Jeb's father.”
“True, but Jacob doesn't like Beth. Supposedly, Tami is her friend.”
“Why would Jeb care? I get the feeling the man does as he pleases, regardless of what Beth thinks.”
Hawkman made a face. “You got me on that one. Maybe I should have followed them.” Then he snapped his fingers. “I bet she's a contact for potential customers.”
“Oh, Hawkman, you've lost it. A woman running an in-between for buyers?”
“Sure, a perfect setup. No one would suspect her.”
Jennifer twisted the ring on her finger. “I don't know; it really seems far-fetched. I'd think hooch buyers would be tough old men, who'd want to deal with males only.”
“Face it, none of them want to get caught, so they're protecting their butts by doing business with a woman.” He put the feline on the floor and joined Jennifer at the kitchen bar. “I think I've hit on something.”
“Do you think she'll haul the white lightning in her Toyota?”
“No. When Jeb is financially able, he'll buy a truck. Right now he's broke, so he'll use the buckboard and go out the back way. I have a feeling he's only been selling a little bit at a time, to ranchers and farmers, just enough for his supplies. I think Tami is the key to bigger hauls. I wish I knew the woman's last name, and where she lives, so I could find out more about her.”
Jennifer picked up a pencil and wrote Tami's name on a sheet of paper. “I'll go up to see Beth next week, and I'll ask her about Tami.”
“She might get suspicious.”
“I'll be careful how I approach the topic.” Jennifer tapped her pencil on the palm of her other hand. “I had a question right on the tip of my tongue. Oh, yes, now I remember. Beth told me they had a smoke house. Did you see it?”
He nodded. “It sits directly behind the cabin, surrounded by trees. I could smell smoked meat when I approached the corral. Didn't have time to enjoy the aroma since other things occupied my mind.”
“The family seems to have plenty of meat to supply their needs, but what about vegetables?”
“There's plenty of land for them to plant a garden. It wouldn't have to be a big plot for a family of five. Their biggest problem would be getting water to the plants.”
Jennifer shook her head. “Another thing bothers me about Jeb. I'm sure he shoots game out of season. Couldn't he get in trouble?”
“If he got caught. However, if he slaughters and butchers it immediately, then hangs it in the smoke house, it would be hard to prove he took a deer out of season.”
“Changing the subject,” Jennifer said. “Are you going to try to follow Jeb when he makes his next run?”
“I'd like to, but not sure how I'll handle it. I can almost bet he's using the cover of night to hide what he's doing. It'd be easier if he'd just take the buckboard into town during daylight hours, but I doubt he'd take the risk. So to follow at night using the four-wheeler means I'll have to get there early and hide on the back road. Unfortunately, if I tag along behind, the noise of the machine will give me away. I could hoof it, but have no idea how far I'd have to go, and that could be mighty tiring.”
“Could you stake out where the back road dumps onto the highway?”
“If his client meets him before then, I'd lose out. My other alternative is to wait until Jeb gets a better means of transportation. However, who knows how long it could take.”
“Sounds like a predicament to me.”
“First, I have to go back to the cabin and snoop around those outbuildings. If he's started making a batch of moonshine, I'll have to calculate when he'll be taking out a load.”
“How will you know?”
“As I explained to you earlier about the fermenting of the mash.”
“Yes.”
“It takes several days; when it quits working, it'll be transferred to the still. Then I'll figure a couple of days for him to get it bottled and loaded into the buckboard, which he'll probably do at night.”
“So you plan to spy on him? What if he catches you?”
“Fortunately, there are no dogs, just the stupid horse who makes noise. I spotted a couple of good hiding places where I can see the building containing the still. If he loads the rotgut earlier than I calculate, don't expect me home until the next morning.”
“When are you going to start this surveillance?”
“Tonight. When it gets dark.”
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* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Once you park the four-wheeler, you'll be hoofing it into unknown territory. How do you plan to maneuver in the dark?” Jennifer asked.
“In case it's pitch black, I'm taking my Surefire LED flashlight. If I keep it pointed toward the ground, the beam should be hidden by the heavy foliage. Once I'm close to the corral, I'll turn it off.”
“Why are you even going tonight? We just saw Jeb leaving the area with Tami.”
“It'll be a perfect time for me to see if he's started a new batch.”
“How, if the door's padlocked?”
“I'm taking my lock-picking kit.”
“Sounds like you've thought of everything, except an escape route.”
Hawkman grinned. “I'll find one when I need it.”
“Earl would shoot you first and ask questions later,” Jennifer said.
“I know. I'll watch for him. If we had better cell phone connections, I'd have you call me if you spotted Jeb and Tami coming back.”
“Afraid you'll just have to watch for the headlight beams. It should give you time to get out of sight.”
“Better get my stuff together and get going.”
Jennifer glanced out the window. “It's not completely dark yet.”
“It won't matter until I get there, which will take about thirty minutes. Should be perfect.”
He slipped on a heavy jacket, then shoved the small lock pick set into one of the zippered pockets, the flashlight into another, and his small camera into the inside pocket. Pulling on a pair of gloves, he went out the front door.
Tooling up the road, Hawkman felt the same surge of excitement go through him when he started on a dangerous mission in the Agency. He loved the thrill of uncertainty, not knowing if he'd be able to accomplish the job, or get shot at. If things moved along right, he'd eventually talk to Detective Williams, even though he didn't have jurisdiction in this area, he could maybe recommend someone.
Hawkman soon came to the spot he'd marked earlier to park the four-wheeler. Darkness had fallen, but with no clouds in sight, a big moon lit up the countryside. It helped him find his way, but he'd have to be careful so his shadow didn't give him away.
The corral came into
sight, and he detoured in a wide circle so as not to disturb the horses. He hoped Earl was inside, but with Jeb gone, he could well be policing the area. Cautiously making his way toward the back of the cabin, he cut across the ground. A big bird squawked and flew from a tree branch over his head. He ducked and remained still for several minutes, then continued. Inside the cozy home, the soft glow of the lanterns filtered through the glass, weaving a weird, flickering shadow on the ground outside. The windows at the back of the house were dark. Hawkman had not seen this side of the cabin and took a mental picture of it.
He eased out of the protection of the forest surrounding the cabin and hurried into the shadows of the outbuildings. Since he knew what the first building contained, he scurried to the side of the second structure. As he leaned against the boards, he could hear a gurgling noise coming from inside. He moved around to the front, keeping a lookout toward the cabin and the path leading toward it from the road. Working quickly with the lock pick, he opened the padlock and leaving it hooked onto the chain, guided it with his hand so it rested on the door without banging against the wood. The hinges creaked loudly, so he only opened it enough to slip through. Warmth engulfed him, and the putrid smell of fermentation hit his nostrils.
Pulling the door closed, he removed the camera from his pocket and shot some pictures of the barrels. He then pulled out the flashlight, shined the beam into the bubbling yeast and wished he knew more about the stages of making the moonshine. From what he'd read, it took a few days for the fermenting, and it had to stop fizzing before being poured into the still; then one more day before it would be ready to bootleg.
He turned off the flashlight when he heard the distinct sound of a car engine. Reaching up to his shoulder holster, he loosened the flap covering his gun. Peeking through the slit in the door, he could see the glow of headlights coming up the road. He should have time to get out before the vehicle made the turn and cast the headlight beams onto the structures.
Just as he stepped out of the building, Earl came out the front of the cabin, carrying a shotgun. Hawkman stood frozen to the spot, in hopes the boy wouldn't look his way. Fortunately, the young man's attention went to the oncoming car, and he pulled the rifle up to his jaw and took aim. Hawkman took the moment to slip around the side of the shack before the shafts of light hit the wood siding. He heard Jeb's booming voice. “Earl, lower the damn gun, it's your dad.”
Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14] Page 12