Shadows in the Night [Hawkman--Book 12]

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  “What's going on?” Hawkman called.

  “I need to talk to you. Could you come down here for a moment?”

  “Sure. Want a cup of coffee?”

  “Not this time, I'm going home and have a stiff drink.”

  Hawkman loped down the stairs and joined George at the bottom. “So what's on your mind?”

  George held out his hand with a check in it. “For one thing here's the extra money I owe you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now I want to start all over and hire you back,”

  Hawkman stared at the man. “Did I hear you right? You want to hire me again?”

  A breeze caught the old man's thinning hair and blew it into his face. He took a swat at the strands with his gnarled fingers and shoved them out of his eyes. “Yep, Maggie wants you back.”

  “What in the world changed her mind?”

  “She doesn't like the detective. Says he's mean and she likes you a lot better. At least when you scolded her, you didn't threaten to send her to jail like he did.”

  Hawkman grinned. “Williams has a duty to do and he doesn't show favorites. He's a good man and does a fine job.”

  George leaned on his cane. “She feels like he suspects us as the murderers. To tell the truth, it scares us both.”

  “Why do you think he's suspicious of you two?”

  “Because Maggie keeps my insulin in her room. The police don't seem to think it's necessary, since I'm the diabetic, not Maggie.”

  Hawkman shrugged. “He also knows you were a locksmith and Maggie had the skill too, as she helped you out on occasions. So you could pick one of those locks in the home without leaving a scratch. So he came to a reasonable conclusion. Wouldn't you say?”

  Hampton pointed his cane. “Do you think we're guilty of killing our friends?”

  “I don't know. Are you?”

  George's face turned red and he slammed his cane against the banister. “You're no better than the police. I take it back. I don't want to hire you again.”

  “I'm being the devil's advocate and trying to show you how the detective came to his decision. He hasn't finished his investigation, but right now you two are the prime suspects. It makes sense.”

  “It doesn't to me.” George turned his back to Hawkman. “I'll have to think about this whole mess.”

  “Detective Williams has asked me to stay on the case. He won't be around for a few days and I'm taking over. So I really can't help you out right now. However, I'll do my best on trying to prove your innocence, if it's warranted.”

  George turned and glared at him. “What do you mean, if it's warranted? I've never killed anyone, neither has Maggie. We're not that kind of people.”

  “Seldom does a murderer ever admit it.”

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  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Hawkman watched George as he stormed toward his car at an awkward gait. He kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk, then turned and went upstairs. In his heart, he knew those two people wouldn't hurt anyone intentionally. Their behavior had sent Detective Williams into a tantrum and he could understand why. If you didn't know the Hamptons, the actions and verbal outrages they displayed made them look guiltier than hell. It would be up to him to prove their innocence. He rinsed his cup and coffee pot, picked up his briefcase, locked the door, then left for home. It'd been a long day.

  When he arrived at Copco Lake, Jennifer greeted him with a big kiss, while Ms. Marple twined around his ankles.

  “Glad you're home before midnight. I'm dying to hear the latest on the case.”

  Placing his valise on the counter, he opened the refrigerator and removed a beer. “Want me to fix you a drink?”

  “Not yet, after I eat.” She reached around him and lifted out a platter holding two big marinated steaks.

  “Wow! Those look delicious.”

  “I figured if you didn't make it home in time tonight, I could let them set until tomorrow.”

  “While I'm getting things ready, tell me what you've done all day.”

  “Not a whole lot. George asked me to work for him again.”

  Jennifer twisted her head around. “You're kidding. What brought that on?”

  “Maggie didn't like the way Detective Williams talked to her. He accused her and George, in so many words, of being murderers.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “That doesn't sound like Williams.”

  “Maggie knows how to push people's buttons, and she found the detective's. It sent him off on a tirade.”

  “Boy, she must have punched him hard, as he's usually very patient.”

  “He's got a lot on his mind, plus he's short of men and funds. Some of them have to work double shifts, and he doesn't like to push them to the point of danger. I think that's why he wanted me to help. I could cover Morning Glory Haven while he went out on the drug sting.”

  “You're not taking any pay. At least Hampton wanted to hire you.”

  “I owed Williams.”

  Jennifer threw back her head and laughed. “Right.”

  Hawkman grinned. “You won't let me get by with anything.”

  “Nope,” she said, with a mischievous smile.

  * * * *

  Thursday morning, Hawkman left Copco Lake and drove straight to Morning Glory Haven. He hoisted the briefcase from the passenger seat and carried it inside. When he turned down the hallway toward Ms. Montgomery's office, Julie, the receptionist at the front desk, called out to him.

  “Mr. Casey, you won't find anyone in their offices right now. They're in a staff meeting.”

  He turned on his heel. “How long do they usually last?”

  She shrugged. “All depends on what's on the agenda. Sometimes they get out within thirty minutes, other times they're in there all morning.” She checked her watch. “It looks like a long session today as they've already been in there over an hour.”

  “I knew I should have called ahead of time. I'll drop by after lunch.”

  “You'll have better luck then.”

  “Thanks,” he said, moving toward the entry.

  Just as he grabbed the handle of the front door, he heard someone calling his name. He swiveled around and saw Maggie pushing her walker from the dining room area, waving a hand.

  “Mr. Casey, wait a minute.”

  He met her half way and she pointed to the couch in one of the sitting areas.

  “Let's chat a minute,” she said, plopping down on the sofa.

  Hawkman took the overstuffed chair across from her and placed his briefcase on the coffee table. “Okay, what do you want to talk about.”

  She had a very demure expression, and folded her hands in her lap. “George called me last night after talking to you. He said you were now investigating for the police and he'd decided he didn't want you working for him again after all. I disagreed with him completely, and want you to let us hire you back.”

  “You didn't like the way I did things, so why the change of mind?”

  She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Because I'm scared the detective is going to put George and me in jail. We need your help.”

  “If you haven't done anything wrong, he's not going to do that.”

  She kept wringing her hands. “He thinks I have no business storing George's insulin in my room.” Her teary eyes immediately turned fiery. “It's none of his business what sort of things George and I have worked out. It's in our best interest.”

  “Did you explain the situation?”

  Throwing her hands up in exasperation, she clamored, “No, he didn't give me a chance. He just kept threatening us.”

  “Right now, Maggie, I can't take George's money while I'm helping out the police. When the detective returns, I'll bring him to your apartment and you can explain to him why you have the insulin in your room. If you still want me to pick up where I left off, then we'll talk about it again.”

  She nodded. “Okay. How long will it be before he's ba
ck?”

  “Next week.”

  Heaving herself off the couch, she grabbed her walker. “Maybe you'll find the killer beforehand.”

  “If there is one.”

  “I hope, regardless or not, you can end this problem before it ruins me.”

  “I'll do the best I can.”

  Hawkman watched Maggie, her shoulders slumped, scoot toward the elevator. She didn't appear as the vibrant woman of a few days ago. He exhaled loudly, picked up his valise and exited the building. Driving to his office, he couldn't get the Hamptons off his mind. They were going through a rough time, and he didn't like seeing what it was doing to them.

  He detoured to the bakery before climbing the stairs to the office. A cup of coffee and a bear claw would satisfy his appetite for several hours. He booted up the computer and went to the special search site which he was registered to use due to his employment in the Agency. He threw up Robert Mackle's name first and it came up with no problem. The man's record appeared impeccable. Hawkman could see why this investigation made Mackle nervous. A black mark on his record could keep him from getting other employment in his field.

  Next he typed in Carmen Sanders. It stopped him in his tracks as he read with interest the history of this woman. He printed out the background that started in high school and ended the day she took the job at Morning Glory Haven. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the sheets in his hand. Marking several passages in red, he rubbed a hand across his chin. This case was starting to take on a completely new look. It really made him curious to see her file.

  He placed the paper aside and returned to the computer. He hadn't looked up Lisa Montgomery yet, so he typed in her name. It appeared to be quite a common handle, so he had to scroll several pages and read many introductions before coming across her history. He printed out what he found. As questions formed in his mind, he glanced at the clock on his computer. Taking a couple of folders from his desk drawer, he marked them with Carmen's and Lisa's names. Sliding the separate papers into each one, he placed the files into his briefcase, left the office, and headed back to Morning Glory Haven.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Briefcase in hand, Hawkman crossed the large recreation room in long strides, then turned down the hallway toward the head offices. When he reached Foster's, he knocked, then stepped inside when he heard the instructions to come in.

  Immediately upon seeing Hawkman, Foster slapped his forehead. “Oh, my gosh, I completely forgot to touch base with Ms. Montgomery on Ms. Sanders’ file. Have a seat and I'll go check right now.”

  When he entered Lisa's cubicle, she glanced up, removed the reading glasses perched on her nose, and placed them on the desk.

  “Hi. What can I do for you?”

  “Do you have a few minutes? I need to discuss an important matter.”

  “Certainly.” She gestured toward the chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat.”

  “Mr. Casey is doing some serious investigation, and we discovered yesterday the application file of Carmen Sanders is missing. Do you have it or know where it went?”

  She frowned and rose from her desk. “Gee, I haven't had to look at those files for a long time. Let me check.” After rummaging through her cabinet, she turned. “I certainly don't have it here.” She tapped her chin. “You know I might have left it at my house, as I remember now, I needed some information for Mr. Mackle and took several folders home over a weekend. I'll run and check. I know right where it might be, if it's there.”

  “Great, I'd appreciate it.” He stood and went back to his office.

  * * * *

  Lisa waited until Perry shut the door, then opened the top drawer of her desk and withdrew the portable intercom. She punched the number and the small screen flashed ‘no response'. Knowing this meant the machine was turned off, she checked the duty roster and noted Carmen wasn't scheduled to come in until one in the afternoon. She flipped through the Rolodex, picked up the phone and dialed. This time she heard the answering machine.

  “Carmen, if you're there, please pick up. This is Lisa at work.” She chewed on her lower lip for several seconds before dropping the receiver on the cradle. “Damn!” she hissed. She then tried Carmen's cell phone and it kept giving her a bad signal alert.

  Getting out of her chair, she paced the office floor. This could become a big mess if that private investigator digs any deeper. She left the office, carrying her purse, and stopped at the receptionist's desk. “I'll be gone about a half hour.” Lisa went out to the parking lot, climbed into her car and drove off.

  * * * *

  Hawkman had checked with Perry Foster and knew Carmen Sanders wouldn't be on duty until later, so he went to his vehicle, deciding to catch her when she came into work. It appeared the employees tended to park all in one area, and he found an empty slot. He saw Lisa Montgomery go to her car, and figured she was going to search for Carmen Sanders’ file; Perry said she could have it at home. Since he had time, he decided to follow her and see where she lived. The woman had no idea what type of vehicle he drove, so he didn't worry about her spotting him if he stayed at a distance, and better yet, if he removed his cowboy hat. He knew it changed his whole appearance, so he placed it on the passenger seat.

  Lisa definitely had a destination in mind as Hawkman tailed her. When she stopped in front of an address, he had the idea it wasn't her home because she parked in the street and not in the driveway. He pulled behind a parked van a block away. Taking his binoculars from the glove compartment, he watched her hurry to the front door. She rang the bell, stood for several seconds, then removed a pad of paper and pen from her purse. After writing something, she peered into the mailbox hanging beside the front door, then dropped the piece of paper inside, and hastened back to her car.

  Hawkman now became more interested in what Lisa wrote than following her. He waited until she turned the corner before he parked in front of the house. He strolled up the sidewalk and knocked. Knowing his height would shield the mailbox from the street's view, he lifted out the paper and quickly read the content. ‘URGENT! I need to speak to you immediately. Do NOT talk to Mr. Casey before seeing me. Lisa.’ He dropped the note back inside, and stepped off the small porch. Why would she leave such a message? It might be best to wait right here and catch Ms. Sanders before she had a chance to read her mail.

  Hawkman stayed in his vehicle and watched Carmen's house until twenty minutes before she was due at work. He doubted now she'd come home, but would go straight to Morning Glory Haven. Turning the key, he drove away.

  Driving back to the facility, he had second thoughts about hitting Carmen immediately about the note. He didn't want to turn her off completely and decided it might be best for him to question her about what he'd found on the internet and how she qualified for the job. Laying a little ground work might be best.

  When he arrived at the home, he parked in the same slot as before, and noticed Lisa Montgomery had returned. Not knowing the make of Ms. Sanders’ car, he decided to go inside and check her office. If she hadn't shown up, he'd wait in the lobby. She'd have to pass through there first.

  Pushing on his hat, Hawkman grabbed the briefcase, hopped out of the SUV and went to the front door. The recreation room had several people reading the paper, talking and playing cards or checkers. This time they didn't pay much attention to him, which made him feel less conspicuous. He went to Carmen's office, and tried the door, only to find it locked. He detoured back to the main waiting room, and stopped at the receptionist's desk.

  “Hi, Julie. Could you tell me if Carmen Sanders is in?”

  She glanced at the roster. “No, she hasn't signed in yet, but is due any minute.”

  “Thank you. I'll wait.” He drifted over to the large couch, but before he could sit down, Ms. Sanders came hurrying through the entry. Waiting for her to check in, he then stepped in front of her. “Ms. Sanders, I need to talk with you. It's of utmost importance.
”

  Her expression turned solemn. “What about?”

  “I'd rather talk in private. Could we go to your office?”

  “I guess, but I don't have much time. I've been running late all morning and must get to my duties.”

  “It will only take a few minutes.”

  He followed her down the corridor and into her small cubicle. She instantly went to her desk, removed the portable intercom, turned it on, picked up a clipboard and stood, glaring at him. “Well, what is it you want to see me about?”

  “How'd you get this job?”

  She furrowed her forehead. “Pardon?”

  “From what I've read about you, you're not qualified. How'd you land this position?”

  “Why is that important? That was three years ago. I thought you were investigating a murder.”

  “I research anyone I hold as a suspect.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You think I'm a murderer?”

  “I'm suspicious of everyone who works here. Now please answer my question.”

  She dropped into her desk chair, gripped a pencil until her fingers turned white. “Mr. Casey, I've well proven myself. I'm not only very good at my job, I love working here. I'd never do anything to jeopardize it.”

  “I don't doubt your good intentions. I just need information. Who helped you get this employment?”

  “I hope it was on my own merit.”

  Hawkman reached down, opened his briefcase and handed her a sheet of paper. “I found this about you on the internet. I see nothing indicating you're qualified.”

  Carmen read the content, and handed it back to him. “Mr. Casey, I had a rough time growing up and am not too proud of my past. Those years are all behind me now.” She stood and picked up her clipboard and intercom. “If you'll excuse me, I really must get to my duties.”

  “Someone had to pull some strings for you to get this job. Who?”

  “If you must know, Mr. Mackle is my uncle. He's my deceased mother's brother.”