Hawkman directed him to Jacob's place, and before they got out of the car, he warned the detective of the pungent smell in the house. “Also, he told me he takes care of his father, who is bedridden. Probably, much of the odor comes from such a situation.”
The detective nodded as they walked up to the entry. Flanked by two officers, Chandler stepped upon the stoop and knocked firmly. Hawkman could hear the growling of the dog, then a male voice shouting for him to shut up.
When Jacob opened the door and saw the police officer along with Hawkman, he frowned. “What's up?” he asked.
Chandler displayed his badge. “We'd like to come in and talk to you about Tami Spencer.”
When they stepped into the room, the odor hit the men like a slap in the face. Nonchalantly, they covered their noses with their hands.
“Sorry about the stench,” Jacob said. “My Dad wets and shits on his bed faster than I can clean him up.”
“I'd like to talk to your father,” Chandler said.
Jacob furrowed his brow. “Why, he's not even coherent. He couldn't tell you a thing.”
“Just the same, I want to see him.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he led the detective to a bedroom off the main part of the house. Chandler walked over to the still form, and yanked back the filthy covers. “Dear God,” he murmured. He stormed back into the living room, and spoke to one of the officers. “Go out to the car and call an ambulance. That man needs to be in a hospital. He's skin and bone, with sores all over his body.” He swirled around and pointed a finger at Jacob. “How could you neglect your own father to this point?”
“He's never seemed to be in any pain,” Jacob said.
Chandler scowled. “You stupid man. He's got bed sores all over his body. Do you ever feed him?”
“Yeah, but he won't eat much.”
“He's sick,” Chandler yelled. “He needs medical attention.”
The officer came back from outside. “Ambulance on the way.”
“Good, you two go outside and wait for it,” he instructed the two officers. “When it arrives lead them to the poor man.” Turning back to Jacob Hutchinson, he glowered. “Sit down. I've got some questions for you, and by God you better answer truthfully.”
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
CHAPTER FIFTY
The ambulance arrived and the paramedics rolled the elderly man out on a gurney. A clipboard in hand, the driver approached the detective.
“What's his name?”
Chandler pointed at Jacob. “Ask him.”
“Jacob Ross Hutchinson, Sr. I can't afford no long hospital stay for him.”
Chandler glared at Jacob. “So you're a Jr.? Your father will stay there as long as needed. That poor old fellow has been neglected long enough. You'll find the money.”
Hawkman stepped back and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed as he watched Detective Chandler in action. He also noticed scratches on Jacob's neck and on his right arm where he had his shirt sleeve rolled up.
After reading Jacob, Jr. his Miranda rights, Chandler began his questioning. “How well did you know Tami Spencer?”
“She was Beth's friend. I only saw her a few times.”
“I told you I want the truth, Mr. Hutchinson. I have some indication that you owed Tami Spencer quite a sum of money.”
Jacob shook his head. “I still don't know what the hell you're talking about.”
“When did you install the still on the property near Copco Lake?”
“I ain't put in no still anywhere.”
“Mr. Hutchinson, I can find that out through the company when you ordered it. So I'd advise you to tell me.”
Jacob slammed the end of his cane on the floor. The dog jumped and so did Hawkman. “Five or six years ago. Don't remember the exact month.”
“Did you plan to make moonshine and sell it?”
He stared at Chandler. “Never had the opportunity.”
“I see. So when your son got out of prison and couldn't find a job, you figured this was the time to put the still to work?”
“Beth didn't want him to do it. She didn't like the idea of him going back to jail.”
“You bribed him with a free place to live with his family, didn't you? Along with a little money each month to keep them in staples and ammunition for hunting?”
“I don't have that kind of money.”
“You've got enough to hire someone to be an in-between for moonshine running, even though you didn't pay her.”
Jacob jerked up his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Mr. Hutchinson, I did a search on your son, Jeb, when I found out we had an ex-con in the area, and guess what else I found? A whole lot about the Hutchinson clan. Your dad made a fortune, but it's still in his name. You've been skimming off the top, just enough to not draw attention to yourself. When the old man dies, you'll inherit the whole shebang, but you know it has to be a normal death or your son, next in line for the inheritance will get all his money.”
Hawkman listened intently to Detective Chandler, and liked the way this man worked. He'd definitely done his homework.
Jacob fidgeted with his cane, never making eye contact with the detective. “What are you trying to say?”
“When Tami Spencer approached you about the money you owed her for finding customers to buy the moonshine, you told her to meet you at Jeb's place, where you'd be getting cash. You instructed her not come to the cabin, but park in a cluster of trees. That's where you killed her, making it look like Beth had done the deed.”
Jerking up his head, Jacob narrowed his eyes. “You're crazy. There's no proof I did anything to Tami. I hardly knew her. I ain't answering no more of your questions.”
“It's up to you Mr. Hutchinson, but I'm putting you under arrest for the abuse of an elderly person. Please stand up so my officer can put on the cuffs.”
“I treated my Dad good. He's still alive.”
Chandler scowled. “Barely.”
“I can't walk without my cane.”
“My officers will assist you to the car.”
“What about my dog?”
“Has he got a name?”
“I call him Mutt.”
The detective eyed the thin, dirty dog on the floor beside the couch. “I'll get the SPCA out here to take him in. He definitely needs help too. Doesn't look like you take good care of living things that supposedly mean something to you.”
“How much will it cost me to get him out?”
Chandler shot a look at him. “Get him out of my sight before I pull my gun. Take him in and book him for elderly abuse for now.”
The two officers got on each side of Jacob and practically carried him outside. The dog watched with soulful eyes, but didn't move to object to his owner being carted out. The detective closed his notebook, then turned to Hawkman. “Let's get out of this hell hole. Would you mind going with me to check the hospital to make sure the poor old man is being looked after?”
“Sure,” Hawkman said, as he stepped outside and gulped in the fresh air.
On the way over, Chandler called the SPCA and told them to pick up the dog. The door was unlocked. He gave a little history of the animal's malnutrition, its name, and told them the owner was being incarcerated for a while.
After hanging up, he shook his head. “Boy, this guy is one loser. The DNA should prove he's the murderer.”
“Did you notice the scratches on his neck and right arm?” Hawkman asked.
“Vaguely. He made me so mad, I couldn't see anything but red. Glad you spotted them; We'll take pictures at the jail.”
They arrived at the hospital and went straight to the emergency room where Detective Chandler did all the talking. One of the nurses led them into one of the rooms where Jacob Hutchinson, Sr. lay on a bed with an intravenous tube in his arm. His eyes were closed and Hawkman noticed Chandler's lip quivered as he stared at him. He quickly regained his composure and said, “How could anyone s
tarve his own father.”
Before Hawkman could respond, the doctor strolled into the room. “Hello, Detective Chandler. You sent us a good one this time. I think we can save him, even though he's in bad shape. He told us to get him well; he had a score to settle. The old fellow's got spunk”
“Really. Good for him,” Chandler said, with a grin. “I knew I liked this old codger. You tell him I'll be back to see him in a couple of days. We need to talk.”
The detective and Hawkman walked back to the car. On the way to the station, Chandler shot a look at Hawkman. “What did you think about everything that went down today?”
“I thought you did a great job. The one thing that baffles me is I didn't know the old fellow's name, so just assumed the Jacob, Jr., the land where Jeb and family had set up housekeeping. Now, I'm doubting it. I'm going to go back to the courthouse and recheck the title.”
“You think Jacob, Sr., is really the owner?”
“I have my suspicions.”
“Let me know if you get verification. I'd like to add another abuse charge against Jacob, Jr.”
They reached the station lot where Hawkman hopped out of the police car and went to his own vehicle. He waved at Detective Chandler as he drove out of the lot and headed for the courthouse.
When he entered the section of properties, he saw the young woman who'd helped him before and walked straight to her desk.
“Hi, Mr. Casey. What can I do for you today?”
He explained what he needed and her fingers flew over the keyboard of her computer. Within in a matter of seconds, she had the title in front of her and turned the monitor so Hawkman could see it. She pointed out the owner of the property.
“It's owned by Jacob Ross Hutchinson.” She paused. “Wait a minute. On the second line is ‘Sr.'. Looks like there wasn't enough room to put that on the first line.”
“All I needed to know. Could you make a copy of the deed?
“Sure. Give me a few minutes,” she said, leaving her desk. She soon returned and handed him the papers.
“Thank you.” He got up and left the room.
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Hawkman drove back to the police station and went inside. The receptionist told him to wait in Detective Chandler's office as he'd be there shortly. Within a few minutes, the detective came in and sat down at his desk. “Sorry for making you wait. Been at the holding cell where we have Hutchinson. We took pictures of those scratches. She clawed him bad; doc said a couple of them were infected. Then I had to give the doctor instructions about getting a vial of blood for me to send out for the DNA test, so had to sign some papers. Got a message from the SPCA; they've picked up Mutt and taken him straight to the veterinarian. They said the poor animal was in bad shape. What news did you find?”
Hawkman leaned forward. “The property is owned by Jacob Hutchinson, Sr.” He handed the copy of the deed to the detective.
After he studied the document, he glanced at Hawkman. “Wonder if Jeb knows?”
“I doubt he'd even question the consent to his living there, even if he knew his dad didn't own it. He probably figured his grandfather had said it was fine.” Hawkman shrugged. “ Who knows, maybe he did. Sometimes it pays to have people on your property, rather than have it available to vandals.”
Chandler brushed back the sandy colored hair that had fallen across his forehead. “This has been quite a day.”
Hawkman rose from the chair. “It's moved along at a rapid rate. Let me know about the DNA.”
“I'm putting a rush on it. I can keep him behind bars for a while with the abuse charges, hopefully until I receive the report.”
“Has Jacob hired a lawyer?”
“Not yet. I don't think he realizes he's in a pot of boiling water.”
“Keep me informed.”
“Will do.”
Hawkman left the station and drove home. He and Jennifer talked for hours over what had happened and the repercussions it could have on Jeb and Beth.
“How will they know what's occurred?” Jennifer asked.
“We'll take it a step at a time. It'll work itself out, and we'll know what to do to help.”
* * * *
Several days passed. Hawkman kept his regular routine of going to the office in Medford, trying not to think about the Hutchinsons, but working on cases he'd taken on in the past two weeks. The phone rang just as he sat down at the desk with a cup of coffee. He punched on the speaker.
“Tom Casey, Private Investigator.”
“Tom, this is Detective Chandler. Where are you right now?”
“Medford, at my office.”
“How soon could you get to Yreka?”
“In forty-five minutes to an hour.”
“Would it be too much to ask you to come to the station right away?”
“Not at all. I can leave now.”
“Great, I'll explain everything when you get here.”
Hawkman closed down shop and headed for Yreka on Interstate 5. Since there was little traffic, he made the trip in record time, and walked into the police station in about forty minutes.
Chandler looked surprised. “My word, man, did you fly?”
“Want to thank you for clearing the freeway. Had it all to myself,” Hawkman said, grinning.
The detective chuckled. “I'm sure you're wondering why I wanted you here. Two things. The first is the DNA report came back a perfect match. So we have our murderer behind bars. The
second thing is, I received a phone call from Jacob, Sr.'s lawyer. He wants you and me to meet him at the hospital.”
“Why me?” Hawkman asked.
“The old man requested it. Says he knows you've been involved with his family. Now, don't ask me if that's good or bad; we'll soon find out.” Chandler stood. “You ready?”
“Why not.”
They climbed into the police car and drove to the hospital. On the way over, Hawkman asked about how the older Hutchinson was doing.
“I've made a few calls, checking his progress, but haven't seen him. The doctor told me, he's been amazed at Jacob's recovery. He said, he definitely has a will to live.”
They reached the hospital and found out the room number, and were soon sitting around the bed of the senior Jacob Hutchinson. Hawkman couldn't keep from staring at the old fellow. He could hardly believe he was the same man he'd seen taken out on a gurney from that filthy house. He'd been cleaned up, his blue eyes sparkled, his face had some color and he smiled at Hawkman.
“You didn't think this old man would make it, did you?”
“Sir, to be honest, no. I'm looking at a miracle.”
He introduced Hawkman and Detective Chandler to his attorney. “This man has been my lawyer for many years. Jacob never let him come and see me after he put me in that rat infested room. Always made up some excuse, especially when I got so weak I couldn't do anything about it. Then you two men entered my life. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. You came just in time; otherwise, I would have died for sure.”
Detective Chandler reached over and took the man's hand. “When I saw you, I wasn't leaving until I could get you to the hospital.”
Jacob patted his arm. “I've got a few things to do in this world before I leave it, and one thing is, to make life easier for Jeb and Beth. My son was greedy and mean. From what I understand, he'll be spending the rest of his life in jail. Good riddance as far as I'm concerned. He won't be around to tempt Jeb into doing wrong things. Jeb's a good man; he didn't intend to kill anyone. His wife is wonderful. I've always loved Beth.” He pointed a not so feeble finger at Hawkman. “You know where they disappeared to, don't you?”
“Yes,” Hawkman said.
“Good. I've got a job for you, Hawkman, and I'll pay you nicely. I want you to tell them I said to get back to the cabin. Let them know about Jacob, Jr. and tell them Great Grandpa will come and see them soon. Tell Jeb to destroy the still and get it out
of there. We're going to raise cattle, not moonshine.”
Hawkman smiled. “I'll do that, but I won't take a dime for it. It will give me much pleasure to follow your orders. Tell me, how did you know to call me Hawkman?”
Jacob chuckled. “You'll never get rich that way. To answer your question. I've lived in this area a long time, and when I saw you at Jacob's house, sporting the eye-patch, I knew exactly who you were. You'd worked for the Agency, then married that petite little widow, Jennifer, that lived at Copco Lake. I know lots more about you, but now is not the time to go into it.” Then he turned to the detective. “I want you to tell my son, he's no longer in my will. I've had my lawyer write up a new one. That'll take the starch out of him real fast.”
“I'll do it,” Chandler said, nodding.
“Okay, gentlemen, that's all I have to say right now. I need my rest, so I'm in good shape to go to the cabin to see my grandson and his sweet wife. I want them to look upon me as strong and able. Hawkman, you let me know when they're back.”
“I'll certainly do that.” Hawkman said, shaking his hand.
The two men left the hospital, and on the way back to the police station, Hawkman noticed Chandler's stern expression. “You okay?” he asked.
The detective slapped his hand against the steering wheel. “Just makes me so mad to think his son let him get in such bad shape. I'm sure he's not much over eighty years old, but when I saw him in that bed, I'd have sworn he was a hundred. Thank God, we found him in time.”
“True,” Hawkman said. “After a few months of good nourishment, and some physical therapy, I'd say he'll be like a new man.”
“I lost my Dad when I was ten years old, and I've missed him all my life. Just so hard for me to see anyone treat their Dad so badly. When I'd give my eye teeth to have mine back.”
Hawkman now knew why Chandler got so angry when he saw Jacob in the filthy bed with sores all over him. “I have a feeling it's going to give you a great deal of pleasure to tell Jacob, Jr. he's no longer in his dad's will.”
Chandler smirked. “Oh, you bet.” Then he glanced at Hawkman. “By the way, Jacob, Sr. sure knew a lot about you. So your nickname is Hawkman. How'd you come by that handle?”
Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14] Page 23