George limped back to them. “Thanks.”
After Hawkman informed Kevin he wouldn't be needed today, he walked alongside the couple as they traveled toward the front of the building.
“You should be aware we go shopping about once a week, and pick up a batch of snacks. I also like to run by the house to see Pesky. Then we visit the doctor monthly for our checkups.” She flipped a hand in the air. “Furthermore, it's good for me to get away on occasions. Especially like today.” She made a face. “This isn't a prison, you know.”
“How long will you be gone?” Hawkman asked.
“Not more than a couple of hours, three at the most,” George said. “Maggie can't take much longer or she gets too tired.”
“Are you seeing your doctor today?”
“No, just shopping and out to eat.”
Hawkman pushed open the big swinging door and held it as the Hamptons moved outside. “George, are you going to go home when you return?”
“Naw, I'll stay the rest of the evening.”
“I need to talk to you two, so I'll stop by later.”
* * * *
George held open the car door for Maggie, then took her walker and slid it onto the back seat. When he settled under the steering wheel and pushed in the key, Maggie let out a disgusted grumble.
“What's the matter?” George asked, backing out of the parking slot.
“I'm getting a little sick of Tom Casey and that Kevin guy. I don't have a private moment.”
“It won't last long.”
“You and your brainy idea of having me watched every waking hour. It's nerve wracking. Why don't you tell him I don't need a bodyguard?”
“I want them here when I'm not around. If there's a murderer in Morning Glory Haven, I don't want him after you. So be patient.”
“My patience is worn thin. He's so damned nosy. Wants to know everything about us and every move I make.”
“Private investigators make it their business to inquire into every aspect. That's the way they get clues.”
“Are we suspects?”
George rolled his head. “Come on, Maggie, use your brain. It could be someone connected to us. He's just not going to take a chance. Think about it. Sybil died right there in the same apartment you two shared. If someone murdered her, you might be next. That's one reason I wanted you moved into private accommodations.”
She reached over and patted his leg. “I guess you're better at looking after me than I am taking care of myself. Thank you, my honey.”
“No more of this kind of talk. Let's enjoy our outing. What do you want to do first?”
“Let's drop by the house so I can see Pesky, and I need to get a couple of things from my closet.”
“Home it is.”
George pulled into the driveway, and helped Maggie out of the car. While she stood clinging to the door, he retrieved her walker from the back seat. They made their way slowly up the sidewalk to the entry. When they entered the house, Pesky yowled and pranced around Maggie until she giggled.
“I do believe she's missed me.” She reached down and patted the dog's head. “My sweet girl, I wish I could take you with me.”
“You could, you know. For an extra five hundred smackers. Then what would I do? I'd for sure lose my mind without Pesky here.”
“Oh, George, I wouldn't take her away from you. She'd go crazy cooped up in my small apartment.” She laughed. “I miss her, but not that much.”
“Can I help you get what you need from the bedroom?”
“No, give Pesky a treat and I'll tend to my items.” She could hear George playing with the dog as she rummaged in the closet and dresser drawers for the things she wanted. After putting them in a small duffle bag, she stood back and observed the clutter. “Oh, my, George, you are messy.” She returned to the living room, then moved into the kitchen and shook her head. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink, and the table still had crumbs scattered across the surface. “I'm going to look into getting you a housekeeper.”
George frowned. “I don't need one.”
She put a hand on her hip. “When did you last make the bed? The covers are all rumpled and half on the floor.” She pointed at the sink. “There must be a week's worth of dirty dishes in there. How come you don't put them in the dishwasher? Look at the lint on the carpet. It needs vacuuming.”
“Things got ahead of me this week. Thought you said you didn't want any servants in the house.”
“I'm talking about one woman once a week, not a hoard of caretakers running around. It would keep the place presentable. You just make sure you're here when she comes.”
George shrugged. “I don't know who to get.”
“Don't worry; I'll take care of it.” She abruptly turned and scooted toward the front door. “Okay, we better get going while I'm still up to it.”
They shopped and had a light lunch at one of their favorite restaurants, then headed back to Morning Glory Haven.
“This has been a great day, George. I don't tell you enough how much I appreciate you.”
He smiled. “Ahh, that's okay. I love you too.”
They found Hawkman sitting in the large room as they came in the door.
“Hope you haven't been waiting long,” George said, guiding his wife inside.
“No, just got here about ten minutes ago. I went up to your place first, in case I'd missed you. I found Jessie and Margy huddled around your door as if they were picking the lock. I startled them and asked what they were doing.”
George scowled. “What'd they say?”
“They said they were listening to see if you were home. When I asked why they didn't just knock, they said Maggie sometimes didn't answer her door. I told them they should take the hint that maybe she didn't want to be disturbed.”
George threw back his head and laughed. “Good for you.”
Maggie made a face. “I know those two old bags are harmless, but they're regular pests. They're always wanting to borrow something. I told them to go to the store and buy their own stuff.”
Hawkman chuckled. “They both hurried away, mumbling to each other.”
Once George had settled Maggie on the couch and placed her walker on the side, he turned toward Hawkman. “What did you want to talk to us about?”
Hawkman explained he'd like to speak with Dr. Karl Bunker, but knew he wouldn't be able to get anywhere without their permission. “I'd like you to call him and give your approval, plus write me a permission slip to check your files.”
“Why in hell's name do you need to see our health records?” Maggie asked, frowning.
“It's all a part of this type of investigation. Things show up on health records that might help in a murder investigation.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Such as?”
“Pharmacists, nurses, and other doctors who might have a connection to Morning Glory Haven.”
“Really?” she asked. “Why wouldn't we know about it?”
“Because, it wouldn't be of any significance to your health.”
“That sounds strange,” she said.
“I might find nothing, but on the other hand, a clue might appear.”
She shrugged. “George, you better call Dr. Bunker first thing in the morning. I'll write up a permission slip and we can both sign it.”
“Thanks, I appreciate your cooperation,” Hawkman said.
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Wednesday morning, Hawkman went to the office early as he had the surveillance duty from noon until six. He pondered who to talk to next. So far, Kevin's reports had shown nothing to establish any sort of unusual activity around Maggie, other than her being obstinate on occasions.
It would be a few more days before the results of the autopsy came through, so no use fretting about getting hold of Gladys Owens’ daughter, Ms. Wilder, until the end of the week.
He picked up the phone and called the Hamptons’ physician
, Dr. Karl Bunker, and set up an appointment for the next morning just before lunch. Good, he thought, then if we extend a little over the time, it won't matter, unless he has a fetish about eating right at noon.
Placing his notes inside the briefcase, he unplugged the recorder and shoved it into his shirt pocket. He noticed it made a big bulge due to his shoulder holster. Not having a pocket on the other side, he tested the openings on the jeans jacket and discovered they were too shallow. Reluctantly, he placed the small machine in his valise.
He'd grab a sandwich on the way to Morning Glory Haven. Doubting he'd come back to the office, he rinsed out his mug and the coffee pot, picked up his briefcase, then turned out the lights. The cool weather made for a pleasant day as he stepped outside. He brushed a spider off the door, locked up, and headed down the stairs. The aroma of baking pastries circled his head and made his stomach grumble.
After having a bite to eat, he journeyed over to the home and entered the building. Once he embarked from the elevator and turned down the hallway, he heard a familiar loud threatening voice, and hurried toward Maggie's quarters. He found her gripping the walker and barring the entry of her quarters from two women standing on the outside. Her face burned red with rage. He quickly stepped in front of the two females.
“What's going on?” he asked, turning toward Jessie and Margy.
Jessie pointed at Maggie. “She told us she's going to kill us.”
“Why?”
“We don't know,” they said in unison.
Hawkman then faced Maggie. “Did you say that?”
“Yes. When George and I came back from visiting with a friend down the hall, I found these two trying to get into my apartment.”
“What were you looking for?” Hawkman asked the women.
They shrugged. “Just wanted to visit.”
“Can't you take a hint? I'm afraid I agree with Maggie; you've gone a bit too far.”
“She wouldn't invite us in, even if we asked. Maggie doesn't like us. She's snooty, and won't even give us the time of day if we pass in the hall,” Jessie said.
Hawkman shooed the women away. “I think you better get going. I'd suggest you stay away from here.”
They scurried down the hallway, and Hawkman glanced at Maggie. “Where's George?”
“I'm here,” he said, coming out of the bathroom. “I figured my dear wife could handle those busy bodies.”
“Can't you report them to the head people?” Hawkman asked.
He shook his head. “We don't want to cause a problem, nor do we want Maggie to get the reputation as a trouble maker.”
“Yes, but if they're trying to pick your lock, they should be reported.”
Maggie flopped down on the overstuffed chair. “If they ever make it inside, I'll talk to the authorities.”
“Do be careful about threatening people. If something happened to one of those women, you'd be the first the police would question.”
“No one heard me.”
“I could hear you almost the moment I stepped out of the elevator. If I recognized your voice, anyone near this room would have.”
Maggie waved a hand in the air. “I'm not worried. Those two drive us all crazy. It'd be no loss if one of them disappeared.”
George jerked his head around. “Don't talk like that. We've lost enough friends.”
She made a face. “They are not my friends. I can't stand either of them. No one in this wing likes those two. They're crazy, and should be in a mental institution.”
“Settle down Maggie, before your blood pressure goes up.” George said, reaching over and stroking her arm. “You shouldn't get so upset.”
She pushed his hand away. “I'm fine. Don't preach to me. The next time I catch them near my place, I'll clobber them with my walker.”
Hawkman observed George's spouse. He'd never seen her in this state. Margy and Jessie better not come around again, because Maggie sounded like she meant what she said. He'd heard of strange incidents happening in old people's homes, but had never witnessed these problems until he got involved in this case.
“Okay, George, I'm doing the watch today, so you can go home or run your errands.”
“Sorry you had to come upon this situation. Hopefully, it will settle down for the rest of the afternoon, and you can enjoy some peace.”
“Don't bet on it,” Maggie grumbled. “I'll have a dozen people poking their heads in the door, and asking about the commotion.”
“It'll keep you busy,” Hawkman said, smiling.
George gave Maggie a kiss on the cheek. “Be a good girl, my darling. I'll see you tonight. Is there anything you'd like me to pick up before I return?”
“No, I'm fine.”
Once George left, Maggie headed for the bathroom. “Got to freshen up a bit, Mr. Hawkman.” She suddenly stopped, jerked her head around and nodded her approval. “You look okay to attend a lecture on aging gracefully.”
Hawkman groaned. “Whatever you want to do.”
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY
George returned shortly after six and Hawkman greeted him with a grin. “You missed a great lecture on aging gracefully.”
Hampton wrinkled his forehead. “I don't believe a word you say.”
“Have a good evening,” Hawkman said, chuckling. “I don't think Maggie has anything else planned.”
He left the premises and headed toward Copco Lake. It bothered him having no clue at what might be going on at Morning Glory Haven. When he arrived home, Jennifer met him at the door and frowned.
“What's the matter?” he asked.
She ran her fingers across his forehead and down his cheek. “Your worry wrinkles are showing. They don't do your strong, tanned face justice. Even the little dimple in your chin doesn't show. So what's going on?”
“Have you taken up a new hobby of face reading?”
She gave him a hug. “No, but a woman can read her man's expression after so many years. I could tell the minute you walked in the door things weren't right.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “Guess, I better always stay on the straight and narrow, as I wouldn't have a chance telling you any white lies.”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“What's cooking? It smells delicious.”
“A roast, but it won't be ready for another thirty minutes. I didn't expect you home quite so early. So you've got time to tell me what's going on.” She took the valise from his hands and placed it on the counter. “Where do you want to sit?”
“The living room. Let me get a beer, first.”
They settled in their matching chairs and their cat, Miss Marple, strolled in and wound her way around Hawkman's boots. “Okay, Miss Prissy, what do you want?”
She jumped upon his lap, banged her head against his chin a couple of times, then settled on his thighs.
“I wish she'd find another way of expressing love. Sure glad you don't do that.”
Jennifer laughed. “That's our kitty.”
He flipped up his eye-patch and rubbed his eyes. “This is the most clueless case I've ever encountered. In fact, I'm not sure any murders have been committed. I'm eager to hear the results on Mrs. Owens’ autopsy.”
“How long do you think it'll take?”
“Probably won't hear anything until next week, and those reports will just be the preliminaries. I don't know how deep of an examination they'll do. I'm lucky Dr. Grahm even told me he'd put in a request to Ms. Owens’ physician.”
“So you didn't hit it off with him very well?”
Hawkman looked at the ceiling. “Not at all. He showed his disgust at the first meeting we had. I have a gut feeling he isn't a competent doctor, and he knew I'd already figured it out. I think he's covering his butt.”
“What do you think he's done?”
“Probably nothing. He's just a fill-in, which tells me he's probably getting a salary for his services, even though he says he volunt
eers. What's hard for me to swallow is believing all those people died of heart failure and none of the relatives were aware of any cardiac problems. Mighty fishy, if you ask me.”
“You think this doctor is afraid of getting sued?”
“I'm sure it's entered his mind that I might suggest to the family of any of the deceased patients he'd seen, to throw a malpractice charge against him.”
Jennifer slid to the front of the chair, concern written across her face. “That's a pretty strong statement.”
He exhaled loudly. “He knows I'm an investigator, and he gave the impression he's not comfortable with any type of law officer.”
“I don't imagine any physician would be, under the circumstances. Are you any closer to figuring out what's happening?”
Stretching his arms above his head, he let his hands drop to the armrest with a loud slap, sending Miss Marple fleeing from his lap. “No, and it's really bugging me.”
“What's on your schedule for tomorrow?”
“I have an appointment with George and Maggie's doctor.”
She furrowed her brows. “Why do you want to see their doctor?”
“I need to know about their medical conditions. It still puzzles me why Maggie is at Morning Glory Haven and not at her own home with round the clock nurses to take care of her needs. Money is no problem.”
“Have you talked to George about it?”
“He gives me a song and dance story about Maggie not wanting strangers in the house. She supposedly doesn't like young women combing through her stuff. However, she told me this afternoon she's going to hire a cleaning woman, as George doesn't keep the house like she thinks it should be. A bunch of nonsense if you ask me, but he's fallen for it hard.”
Jennifer shrugged and rose. “Let's eat.”
Hawkman watched her cross the room and into the kitchen. He moved to the bar and slid onto one of the stools. “I figured you'd have a comment.”
She took the roast out of the oven and placed the hot pan on a cold burner on top of the stove. Her mouth was set in a straight line as she took a couple of plates from the cabinet. The solemn expression indicated to Hawkman she had some deep thoughts on the subject.
Shadows in the Night [Hawkman--Book 12] Page 10