Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14]

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Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14] Page 15

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre


  Thankful he didn't see Earl, he jammed his hat onto his head, then jogged after the wagon. When he got close enough to grab the tailgate, he swung himself into the back. Happy to see the tarp tossed over the moonshine containers, he quickly slid under it. Knowing when to get out could be a big problem. He had no idea if Jeb planned on going right to the place of business, or if the customer would meet him on the road. The time he needed to jump out of the wagon depended on the situation.

  Hawkman felt his bones being jarred to the core on the hard floor of the buckboard. He peered out from underneath the cover and tried to see in front of the wagon between Jeb's legs and the butt of the rifle perched at his side. So far, the man had shown no indication of slowing down. Suddenly, up ahead, Hawkman noticed car lights blinking off and on. He edged to the back of the buckboard, slithered over the back side, dropped to the ground and rolled to the side of the road. Hunkering down, he ran alongside the edge, staying a few feet behind the wagon.

  When Jeb slowed, and stopped the team of horses, Hawkman slipped behind some bushes and watched a man with a flashlight approach the buckboard. Jeb stepped down from the bench seat onto the tongue, then hopped to the ground. The two men talked for a few minutes, then walked to the side of the cart where Jeb yanked back the tarp. The other man shined the beam from the lantern onto the stash of rotgut.

  “I'd like a taste,” he said.

  Jeb reached down and untied a metal cup from the neck of one of the large containers. He then unscrewed the lid and tilted the jar. When he handed him the cup, the man said, “You first.”

  “Sure.” Jeb downed several gulps, then handed it to the prospective customer, and watched his face as he took a sip.

  “Whoohoo, this is good stuff.”

  “Glad you like my brew,” Jeb said.

  “I'll take the whole batch.”

  The man handed Jeb a roll of cash, and the two men loaded the white lightning into the trunk of the car.

  “If this goes over as well as I think it will, we'll be doing business on a regular basis,” the man said, as they shook hands and he got into his car. Turning around, he sped down the dirt road, heading for Hornbrook.

  Hawkman didn't recognize the man, and wondered where his business was located. He'd do a search on the bars in the immediate area on the computer and see if he could find photos of the owners. He'd know the man if he ever saw him again. It wouldn't be hard to spot someone who weighed over two hundred pounds, and stood only about five foot, six inches tall, with a bald head that glistened by the light of his own flashlight,

  Jeb hopped back on the seat of the buckboard, picked up the reins, and gave a sharp yelp as the horses moved down the road to a wide spot where he turned the wagon around and headed toward home.

  Hawkman followed the carriage until Jeb reached a heavily darkened area with trees

  over-shadowing the road, then he grabbed the tailgate and swung his legs up, slipping into the interior with little noise. He pulled the tarp over himself, figuring if Jeb happened to glance back, he'd be hidden.

  When he felt the wagon turn, bumping over the dirt brim of the road, he bailed out the rear, landed on his feet, then clambered behind the trunk of a large oak tree. He watched the wagon move ahead before he hightailed it through the forest to the hidden four-wheeler.

  Driving back to the lake, he came to the conclusion that following the wagon appeared less dangerous than pursuing someone in a car. He doubted Jeb had any inkling he'd had a passenger in the bed of his buggy. Hawkman rounded the corner of his driveway and parked in the lean-to. Jennifer met him at the door.

  “I'm so relieved to see you home safe,” she said, giving him a hug. “Tell me what happened.”

  He stepped inside, removed his gloves and paraphernalia he had in his pockets, placed them on the kitchen counter, then selected a beer from the refrigerator. “Want a beer?”

  “No, I already have a gin and tonic made.”

  They moved to their matching chairs, and Miss Marple jumped into her mistress’ lap.

  Jennifer swiveled her chair so it faced Hawkman. “Start at the beginning.”

  He gazed at the ceiling. “I stepped out the door, got on my four-wheeler...”

  She reached over and smacked his knee. “Not back that far.”

  Chuckling, he related the saga from the point where he'd checked the Hutchinson's place, then how he'd gone to the road and waited, until the moment he ended up home.

  Her gaze locked onto his face, she barely blinked, listening to the tale. “You really took a chance hiding in the wagon.”

  “I thought it might be dangerous, but it worked out to be safer than if I'd followed him in a vehicle. He had no lights, didn't even carry a flashlight. The other guy had the lantern.”

  “Just one man showed up? Did you recognize him?”

  “Yes, and no. Jeb didn't have a huge batch. At least, not as much as he could make in that huge still. He might have another lot ready to go for tomorrow or he's feeling his way into the market. This man definitely liked the moonshine, and bought the load. I'm going to do some research and see if I can find this guy.”

  “How could you see him in the dark?”

  “The beam of the flashlight hit him in the face several times. His bald head glistened, and he wobbled when he walked. I'd say for a short man, he must have weighed two hundred pounds.”

  “Under what brand name would they use to serve the whiskey?”

  “More than likely they'd classify it as the house brand. A few would know it to be special and pass the word to try it. The news would get out that it had a kick and people would flock to the bar to try it. The owner could make a killing.”

  Jennifer sighed. “Along with Jeb, as he builds a reputation for the best hooch around.”

  “Yep. Time to talk to the detective.”

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  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Jennifer bit her lower lip, and unconsciously stroked Miss Marple's furry back. “Can't you wait awhile? You're not even sure he peddled it to a place of business.”

  “It doesn't matter; I saw money exchange hands. He's sold the white lightning to someone and it's illegal.” He leaned forward. “You act like you want me to skirt the law.”

  She sighed and leaned back in the chair. “I don't know what I want. I'm just worried about Beth and the children. What will they do if Jeb is returned to jail?”

  “The same as they did the last time he was incarcerated.” He shook his head. “You're talking with emotion and not using your head. Think about what you're saying.”

  “You're right. I keep seeing Randy's and Marcy's faces in front of me. I guess it's the mother instinct.”

  “For some reason you've been infatuated with them since the first day you met the family.”

  Jennifer put Miss Marple on the floor and turned toward Hawkman. “It might be because I've never been around destitute people. When I see the barren way they have to live, it tugs at my heart strings.”

  “Honey, I admire your thinking. However, there's nothing you can personally do about it. They've chosen their way of life.”

  “I know everything you say is true. It just bothers me to see innocent children brought up in that type of environment.”

  “You have a big heart, but I'd like you to try to push the Hutchinsons out of it. There's nothing good going on in their household, and you're only putting yourself in a position to get hurt.”

  Jennifer nodded, and glanced up at him with tears rimming her eyes. “I'll try, but I can't guarantee I'll be successful.”

  He reached over and took her hand. “That's all I ask.”

  “I sort of want to change the subject,” she said.

  “Shoot.”

  “You said you were going to research Tami Spencer. Did you find anything of interest?”

  “Strangely, no. All I found was she moved from Portland, Oregon, to Yreka and has lived there two years. Nothing on her empl
oyment or history, just sort of a ho-hum person with no significance.”

  “So she's been in this area about as long as Beth and Jeb. Makes me wonder if she's been keeping track of their whereabouts.”

  “Very possibly, if she still holds a flame for Jeb.”

  “Beth told me, Tami attempted to take him from her some years ago. I have a feeling it happened before he went to prison.”

  Hawkman scratched his sideburn. “It would be interesting to find out where Beth and the boys lived before Jeb was released. I hunted for her too, but couldn't find a thing, like she'd disappeared off the face of the earth. However, she could have been going by an alias for the boys’ sake.”

  Jennifer got up from her chair and paced. “I might go up there next week and see if I can find out any more. I'm afraid though, she's not going to like my line of questions.”

  “All she can do is tell you nothing, or to get out.”

  * * * *

  Sunday morning, Hawkman arose early and took Pretty Girl for a hunt. While she soared above him, he leaned against the fender of the Cruiser and thought about the Hutchinson situation. The whole mess had really affected Jennifer and it bothered him. He decided to let things simmer for a week or more. What did it matter if Jeb got caught this week or three weeks from now? It would give her a break from having to worry about whether the Hutchinsons’ children would have a home or not. Normally, Jennifer was down-to-earth and realistic, but this family had gotten under her skin. She needed time to sort it out, which he knew she would, in due course.

  He'd calculated that last night, Jeb had only carted out about half the moonshine he'd brewed from the huge still, and therefore, would probably make another run tonight to a different customer. Before going to the detective, he should have a couple of buyers to report. When he finished with Pretty Girl, he'd go online and see if he could find the man who bought the first load. Tonight, maybe he'd recognize the purchaser.

  His beloved falcon had not returned from her hunt, and his gaze studied the tree line. Moving out into the field, he whistled several times to no avail. Advancing toward the area where she'd disappeared, he saw her suddenly emerge from the top of a large oak tree and circle high above his head. She finally descended and perched on his outstretched leather clad arm.

  “What took you so long, girl?”

  When he checked her beak, he could see remnants of brown fur. “Looks like you found yourself a good size prey this time. Bet your tummy is full now.”

  The man and his pet returned home. Hawkman cleaned out the aviary, and placed Pretty Girl on the perch with fresh water and dry food, which he doubted she'd find of interest until tomorrow. Entering the house from the deck, he noticed Miss Marple had hopped onto the large ledge of the window, licking her chops as she viewed the falcon. “You silly feline, that bird would tear you apart in a few seconds. I'd advise you to quit dreaming.”

  Jennifer chuckled from her seat behind the computer. “You'll never convince her.”

  “I'm heading back to my office. Need anything before I leave the room?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Hawkman booted up his machine, removed his hat and stuck it on the fancy hook Jennifer had supplied. She obviously hadn't appreciated the big bare nail he'd hammered into the wall. He clicked on the icon to the special search area he had privy to, then put in his user name and password into the search area. When the web page appeared, he typed in taverns and owners, in Sisikiyou County. Hoping pictures were supplied, he watched the monitor as it went through looking for the information. Soon, the names of many nightclubs popped up on the screen. Some listed owners. Hawkman started with the ones in nearby towns. Clicking on the names of the bars, he found pictures of the buildings, and a few had photos of the owners. Just about the time he was ready to give up, a fuzzy black and white picture emerged of the proprietor of a saloon in Yreka.

  Hawkman enlarged the shot and studied it. Even though he found it hard to define the features, he'd swear they belonged to the man who'd picked up Jeb's load last night. He wrote down the owner's name and the place of business, then printed out the unfocused picture. Narrowing the search down to the local bars, he printed out the list, just in case this one fell through. His gut told him Tami would do business with the locals first, because Jeb had no vehicle to transport his goods, other than the buckboard. Even if Tami had offered her car, Jeb would refuse because it would set off Beth's ire.

  He did a few more searches and still found nothing on Tami Spencer, nor on Beth Hutchinson. It made him wonder how Beth made a living while Jeb did time in prison. Maybe Jennifer could find out, but he doubted it. It would probably remain a mystery forever. Shutting down the computer, he stacked the printed copies at the side and left the room.

  Going to the refrigerator, he rummaged around until Jennifer finally said. “What are you looking for?”

  “Sandwich makings”

  “Hold on a second and I'll come in.”

  “Didn't want to bother you.”

  “It's okay, I'm ready for a bite to eat too.”

  After saving her work, she put the computer into sleep mode and came into the kitchen. Without hesitation, she took out leftover roast, cheese, tomatoes, pickles and other needed condiments.

  “You're something else,” Hawkman said. “You pulled everything out like magic.”

  She smiled. “That's a woman for you.”

  “Glad I have you,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  She put a hand on her hip and looked him in the face. “Why do I have this dark feeling you're going out tonight?”

  “Why do you say ‘dark'?”

  “Because it's been like a black cloud hanging over my head all day. I kept waiting for you to say something, but you never did.”

  “Guess I just assumed you'd know. I'd bet my last dollar Jeb didn't take all the hooch last night. That still will brew double what he had in the wagon. He'll make a run tonight to sell to another buyer.”

  “Did you find out anything about the one last night?”

  “I think I've found my man, but the picture is hazy, so I'm going into town next week and see if I can spot him in his tavern.”

  “Is he local?”

  Hawkman nodded. “Yreka”

  They ate their sandwiches, and made small talk as twilight fell. Hawkman prepared for his trip into the woods, then left on the four-wheeler. He made a quick run by the back of the Hutchinsons’ place to make sure the buckboard was hitched to the horses. Finding it as he expected, he journeyed on to the spot he'd gone the night before, parked the machine and waited in the moonless night for Jeb to come rolling by.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Hawkman didn't have to wait long before he heard the snorting of horses, and the rolling of wooden wheels over rough ground. He hunkered down in the shadows until Jeb passed, then ran behind the wagon, grabbed the tailgate, swung himself into the wagon and slipped under the tarp. Everything went as routine until suddenly bright lights lit up the whole dirt road.

  “What the hell,” Hawkman muttered. He stole a peek from under the tarp and two cars appeared, one on each side of the road, equipped with spot lights pointed at the wagon. The horses became frightened. One reared, as they yanked against the reins, causing the buckboard to jerk back and forth.

  “Turn those damn things off,” Jeb roared. “You're scaring the horses.” He fought to get the animals under control, when finally the beams went off.

  Hawkman quickly scooted over the rear and dropped to the ground. He stayed crouched for a second behind the carriage, then hightailed toward the wooded area. Car doors slammed, and suddenly, Hawkman spotted a shaft of light sweeping across the area. Dropping to the ground behind some brush, he lay very still and watched the flash pass over him. Fortunately, it kept going, and didn't move back toward his hiding place.

  “Thought I heard a rustling sound,” the man said, fanning his fla
shlight beam behind the buckboard.

  The horses had settled, and Jeb jumped down from the seat. “There're all sorts of animals out here. You probably frightened one with those bright lights.”

  “You sure no one followed you?” he said.

  The other man tapped his shoulder. “Quit worrying, Claude. Who the hell would trail a horse-driven cart?”

  “Can't be too careful, Luke,” the man said, walking to the side of the wagon, and peering under the cover.

  Hawkman could hear the men's conversation clearly, and figuring they were preoccupied with the hidden contents, he took the risk of raising his head. The lantern glow reflected off the tarp, and made the men's faces look distorted, but he recognized both men.

  Feeling a cramp forming in his neck, Hawkman quietly crawled back to the tree line where he rose to his feet behind a cedar. He could watch the men's actions between the thick limbs. They went through the ritual of tasting the brew, nodding their heads, handed Jeb a roll of bills, then carried their merchandise to the trunks of their cars.

  “We'll let Tami know if we want more,” Luke said, as he slammed the lid, and climbed into his vehicle.

  Jeb gave a wave, and climbed back onto the bench seat of the wagon. The whole meeting took all of twenty minutes, and Jeb was on his way back to the cabin.

  Hawkman jogged along the bank behind the cart, but stayed in the shadows, as Jeb kept turning around and looking into the bed of the wagon. Something bothered him. Hawkman wondered if he'd noticed the mussed up tarp. When he'd jumped out in haste, the rope tied to the cover had tangled on his boot, and he didn't have time to toss the end back into the bed. He hated to think he'd have to hoof it all the way to the Polaris, but it might come to that.

  Suddenly, Jeb stopped the horses, reached around and tried to pull the canvas toward him, but it hung up on the tailgate. He finally climbed from the seat, carrying his rifle, and walked around to the back of the trailer, untangled the rope, then rolled it several times until it rested against the front board. Hopping back into the seat, he placed his gun next to his leg, picked up the reins and continued his journey.

 

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