Cause for Murder

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  "Ms. Doyle?"

  Her shoulder's slumped. “It's really sad, Mr. Casey. The girl had so much going for her, but her personality really stunk.” She glanced at the other teachers. “Sorry, but that's the way I perceived her. Very arrogant. Girls and boys avoided her like she had a disease. At first, I thought the females were just envious of her mature figure, flawless skin and long beautiful black hair that hung past her waist. She had flirtatious dark brown eyes and lashes that required no makeup. Many girls would kill for those attributes. But then I noticed the boys stayed away too. A siren with no boys panting after her seemed odd. Then one day I overheard a couple of our young men talking. They spoke of Maryann as evil and wicked.” She shook her head. “Such a shame."

  Hawkman shifted his position and took a deep breath. “I want to thank you all for your honesty. I know it's not easy to give a negative report.” He passed a business card to each one. “If you think of anything else, just give me a call. And please keep this meeting to yourselves"

  Mr. Phillips sighed and stood. “Don't worry, Mr. Casey. None of us will say anything. These meetings are not fun, but sometimes necessary."

  Hawkman dumped his coffee in the sink and threw the styrofoam cup in the trash. Once everyone left the room, he flipped off his recorder and strolled out to his vehicle. Maryann appeared as a devious woman on the exterior. Did she feel that way deep inside or did she have a lot of pain? If so, her outward appearance definitely fooled people. Even Sam said Richard saw her as a cold and calculating woman. As he drove to his office in Medford, he couldn't get his mind off what the teachers said about Maryann.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Maryann watched her mother pick at the lunch she'd prepared. “Mom, I thought you liked chili dogs?"

  "Oh, I love them. I'm just not hungry."

  "You've got to eat something before you go to work. I can tell you're losing weight, you're nothing but skin and bones."

  Lilly pushed the plate away. “I've got a lot on my mind. Just put it in the refrigerator and save it for Frank.” She slumped back in the chair. “By the way, have you had any luck in finding employment?"

  She shook her head. “No. You're right about this hick town, it doesn't have much to offer. Any openings are taken by the residents. But I've got a little saved and a job waiting when I get back to the university, so I should be okay for the summer. And don't change the subject, Mother. What's worrying you?"

  "I've been thinking about how stupid I've been by not reporting Burke's beatings.” She let out a long sigh. “Now I can't protect Madukarahat. But Burke scared me so much with his threats, I feared you'd be taken away."

  Maryann pointed a finger at her mother. “Mom, you're letting your imagination get the best of you. How do you know Maduk had any thing to do with Burke's death?"

  Lilly stared at her daughter, tears welling in her eyes. “Just from some of the things he said."

  Maryann slapped her hand on the table. “Mother, think about it. If Maduk had killed Burke, he'd have used his knife. I believe Burke died of natural causes. The idiot probably overdosed on his own medications. The test will show it and we'll all be cleared of any wrong doing. If not, you and I will be the first they put under scrutiny. And I don't think that's going to happen."

  "I wish I felt as certain as you do. Unfortunately, you told the young Casey lad about Maduk. Now it will be all over the community."

  Maryann covered her face with her hands. “Yes, I probably did a dumb thing, but we're just speculating about Burke being murdered."

  "Then why are they doing all the testing?"

  Maryann rose from her chair and paced the room, wringing her hands. “I don't know. Maybe it's just police procedure when they find a dead body."

  "Maduk thinks otherwise. He thinks they suspect murder."

  "He's just guessing. Just like we're doing."

  Lilly shrugged. “I hope for all of us you're right. When this leaks out, I'll probably lose my job. Then what will I do?"

  Maryann narrowed her eyes and stared at her mother. “We'll leave this horrible place and find somewhere else to live. We should have gone a long time ago. It's been hell growing up here."

  Bowing her head, tears trickled down Lilly's cheeks. “I know it's been hard on you. And I'm sorry for the pain you've suffered. All I can say is you were born out of love."

  Going to her mother, Maryann put an arm around Lilly's shoulders and gazed into space. “I know. But please try to eat. Let me warm up your food, so you'll have some energy for work."

  * * * *

  Sam found the drop cloths in the garage and stuffed them into a big garbage bag, then tied them down in the bed of the truck. He looked over the interior paint colors and thought they ‘d be quite attractive for the rooms of Mrs. Parker's house. He needed to check with her and find out whether she'd like the outside or the inside painted first. It made no difference to him, except they'd need a whole day for draping the furniture, removing pictures and shelves off the walls. He figured doing a couple of rooms at a time would be best and he could do the preparation without Richard's help. Maybe Maryann would lend a hand. Even though he hesitated about working beside her, he wanted to get this job finished so he'd have some of the summer left to play. He hoped she'd remembered to water the sod.

  Jennifer helped Sam gather up paint rollers and other supplies he needed from the storage shed. She handed him some paint hats and several rolls of masking tape. “I hope you haven't taken on a bigger job than you can handle. The way things are going, you're not going to have any free time left to fish or ride your new bike before you have to return to school."

  "The house is small. It won't take long. If I can get things prepared before the weekend, Richard and I can get most of the inside painted in a couple of days."

  She patted him on the back as he climbed into the cab of his truck. “I admire what you're doing. I hope Lilly and Maryann appreciate your efforts."

  Sam shrugged. “I think Mrs. Parker does. Can't tell about Maryann."

  He arrived at the Parker home about one o'clock. Lilly's old station wagon sat under the carport and the sprinklers were watering the new grass which appeared healthy. He noticed flowers had been planted in the pots that lined the front porch.

  Glad Lilly's home, Sam thought. I'll talk to her before she goes to work. He strolled up to the front entry and picked up a small bouquet of flowers lying on the porch, then knocked lightly. Maryann opened the door.

  "Hi, Sam.” Her gaze dropped to the drooping stems in his hand. “I think those need water."

  "Oh, I found these on the porch."

  She rolled her eyes and took them. “I bet they're from Frank. Probably picked from someone's garden."

  "A new beau?"

  Maryann shook her head and laughed. “No, Mom feeds a homeless man. I'm sure this is his way of thanking her. Anyway, what brings you here during the week? Thought you guys just worked on the weekends."

  "I want to talk with your mom about whether she wants us to paint the inside. If so, I want her to pick the colors for the rooms, plus I need to find out a good time to drape the furniture and remove stuff off the walls. Then it shouldn't take Richard and me more than a couple of days to paint. In fact, If I can manage to get a couple of the rooms ready, I'll start before the weekend. The outside doesn't require as much preparation."

  Lilly meandered up behind Maryann and touched the plants in her daughter's hand. “Oh, honey, put those pretty blooms in water before they're beyond help.” She then turned her attention to Sam. “It sounds like a splendid idea. Show me the colors you have."

  "Sure, come on out to my truck."

  Sam jumped up into the bed and lifted the gallon cans to the tailgate, so Lilly could inspect them.

  "Oh my, you have quite a variety."

  "Yes, but there's at least three gallons of every hue, so it's plenty to cover one room.” He thumped the top of one of the cans. “In fact, this one called Oyster has four gallons. So you mig
ht want it for your living room. I also thought this pale blue enamel might be nice for your kitchen. And there's another enamel in a light yellow, which would be good in the bathroom. The rest are flat paints in shades of white. Here's an Eggshell, perfect for a bedroom. He waved his hand over the tops. “They're all water based, so it will be easy to clean up."

  As Lilly made the choices for each room, Sam took out an indelible marking pen and wrote on the tops of the cans. “I'll start in the living room, if that's all right with you. I need to tape around the windows and remove any pictures or shelves you have attached to the walls."

  She nodded, then frowned. “I'm worried about the fumes."

  "I'll keep the windows open for ventilation. Fortunately, the weather is mild."

  "That's true.” Lilly smiled. “This is going to be so nice to have a fresh and clean house.” She turned toward Maryann who'd follow them out. “See what you can do to help the boy. I've got to get ready for work."

  She left the two young people standing at the back of the truck.

  "Let's put the cans of paint on the front porch,” Sam said, as he lifted a couple of the gallons and headed toward the entry.

  Maryann grabbed two of the cans. “Let me get an old sheet or tarp to set them on. I don't want our nice front porch decorated with paint rings."

  "Good idea."

  After they'd removed all the cans needed, Sam lifted the bag of drop cloths and miscellaneous supplies from the truck bed. He carried them into the living room and placed them in a corner. Glancing around, he decided the room would be a piece of cake to prepare. Only two pictures on the walls and the rest of the furniture just needed to be scooted toward the center and covered.

  To his amazement, Maryann turned out to be a good assistant. She helped him move the couch and bigger items, then took the pictures to a safe haven somewhere in the back of the house. She cleared off the small bookshelf, putting the items into brown grocery bags, and carried them to another room. Taping the windows proved the biggest challenge.

  During the midst of their work, Lilly stepped into the living room in her waitress uniform. “Oh my goodness, you kids have already got a lot done."

  "What's a good time tomorrow for me to start painting?” Sam asked.

  Lilly touched a finger to her chin. “How about noon."

  "That sounds fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

  She waved and went out the front door. Sam heard the old car engine groan, but then fire up. He glanced out the window and noticed the black exhaust as she pulled into the street. “Wonder how long your mom's car is going to last?"

  Maryann laughed. “It's old, but still moves when you put it into gear. The engine sounds rough, but it always starts."

  Sam finishing taping the last window and turned around to put the masking tape away. Maryann stood behind him. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders,and her eyes glistened. She held up the beer in her hand.

  "Want one?"

  He shook his head. “Uh, no thanks. I have to drive home."

  "Oh, come on Sam. Loosen up. It's been fun working together.” She unbuttoned her blouse, her face glowing with passion as she moved closer to him. Taking his hand, she slid it inside her bra, a sly grin curling the corners of her mouth. “Don't tell me you don't like women?"

  Sam yanked his hand away and glared at her. “I love women, Maryann, but I don't trust you."

  She stepped back. “What do you mean by that statement? I've never done anything to you."

  He dropped the tape into the sack. “It's not what you've done to me, it's how you've treated my friends. You're fickle and can't be trusted. No man wants to get involved with a woman who turns on him.” He moved the supplies to the corner and headed for the door. “Thanks for your help. I'll see you tomorrow."

  When Sam walked out onto the porch, Maryann slammed the door. “Like hell you will. I won't be here,” she hissed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sam jumped into his truck and left the Parker's house. He flipped on the radio, turned up the volume to a loud rock station and tried singing along to wipe the image of Maryann's sexual advance from his mind. But it didn't work. He hit the steering wheel with his fist. Why did she pull such a stunt? It only made him dislike her more. How he wished he'd never offered to fix up their place. He'd see the job through, but he'd learned a vital lesson. Keep your big mouth shut.

  As he drove over the bridge crossing the Klamath River where it dumped into Copco Lake, his anxiety eased. He spotted Hawkman's 4X4 in front of the garage as he turned the corner. His thoughts leaped to Burke Parker. Maybe Hawkman had some news.

  Parking at the side of the house, so not to block the driveway, Sam hurried toward the front door. But before he reached the entry, the crunch of tires on gravel caused him to glance around.

  "Hey, Richard, what's up? You just get off work?” he asked, strolling toward the driver's side.

  "Yeah, and I have tomorrow off, as they're taking the horses into town to get them shod and vaccinated against the West Nile virus. It's cheaper than having the vet come out. So, you wanta do something?"

  Sam grimaced. “Wish I'd known. I've spent the day at the Parkers’ taping and draping the living room. Told her I'd paint it tomorrow."

  "Didn't know you were working during the week on the house."

  "I want to get it done, so I'll have a little summer left to fish and ride my new bike."

  "Okay, I'll pick you up. What time?"

  Sam jerked up his head. “Hey, you don't have to take your day off to help me with this dumb project."

  Richard threw back his head and laughed. “I don't mind. Guess I'm being selfish, but with two of us working, we can get things done a lot faster and have more time to play."

  "If you're sure,” Sam said grinning. “Mrs. Parker said come about noon, so pick me up around eleven fifteen. That will give us plenty of time."

  "Okay, see ya then.” Richard threw the truck into reverse and backed out to the street."

  When Sam entered the house, Jennifer and Hawkman were sitting at the breakfast bar talking. A delicious aroma swirled about his nose. Then he spotted the blackberry pie cooling on the cabinet. He bent his head over the pastry and rubbed his stomach. “Oh, man, does that ever smell wonderful."

  Jennifer smiled. “I froze those berries last year. Hawkman and I picked them up at the Miller ranch. That's the last batch. I wish we'd get a good crop from our own bushes. They just don't seem to do well.” She rolled her eyes. “And the deer love them."

  "Heard anything on Burke Parker?” Sam asked, scooting onto the stool next to Hawkman.

  "No, but had a nice conference with four of Maryann's teachers."

  Sam grimaced. “I'm afraid to ask what they said."

  "Not very positive, other than they all agreed the girl is very smart and pretty. But it seems all of them think she's very aloof."

  Sam shook his head. “I've already told you that."

  Hawkman leaned forward, placing his elbows on the counter top. “I'm sure the girl aches inside. And being on the defensive, she makes sure no one can hurt her."

  "Burke did a lot of damage to her mentally,” Jennifer said. “That takes years to overcome."

  "I don't think she's tried.” Sam stood. “I'm going to shower before dinner.” On his way back to his room, he'd pulled his shirt out of his jeans, then called over his shoulder. “Jennifer, do I still have those old clothes I left here when I went off to college? I'm going to be painting tomorrow and might as well wear them."

  "Yes, they're stored in a box on the floor of your closet."

  "Thanks."

  * * * *

  When Jennifer heard the shower running, she buried her face in her hands. “I might as well get ready for clothes strewn all over that room tomorrow."

  Hawkman laughed. “Now, honey, didn't you raise a neat kid?"

  She pointed a finger at him. “Are you kidding? He took after you.” Then she glanced toward the hallway. “You notice how he d
idn't want to talk about Maryann?"

  He nodded. “It sort of surprised me that he didn't ask any questions. I'm sure he saw her today, but I get the distinct feeling he definitely doesn't like that girl."

  Jennifer frowned. “After what you told me the teachers said, Maryann must have had problems for years. If you checked, you'd more than likely find her troubles go all the way back to the primary grades."

  Hawkman nodded. “Especially after what Sam told us about Burke's abuse."

  "I can't even imagine that horror."

  * * * *

  Madukarahat drove the back roads as much as possible when going to the different areas where he had to obtain reports on the casinos. At this point in time, he didn't want anyone seeing him around Yreka or connecting him with Lilly. He had lots of time to think about what he'd heard through his sources. A tall cowboy with an eye-patch had frequented the bars and asked questions about him. Maduk recognized the description of the man the locals called Hawkman, a well respected private investigator who had once worked for the Agency. He wondered what interest he had in the death of a nobody like Burke Parker? Or did he want to find out something else? Maduk had never met Hawkman personally, but figured he'd have no trouble recognizing him. There weren't many men roaming around Yreka with a patch over their eye.

  He also knew that the man's son and the deaf boy had taken on the job of fixing up Lilly's house as a charitable gesture. Having the boys nosing around made Maduk uncomfortable. He couldn't even sneak in a visit, afraid the lads might appear. And the deaf one had sharp senses like an animal. He wondered how much the two young men knew. Did they know about him? He knew Maryann had eyes for the one called Sam. How much had she confided to him?

  All these questions made Maduk uneasy. His daughter had almost become a stranger. No longer innocent and naive. She'd grown into a beautiful woman. Any warrior would sell his soul for her. But she had a sharp tongue. And he worried about the coldness in her eyes. He sensed she'd not forgiven him for leaving her and Lilly in the clutches of Burke Parker. He gripped the steering wheel. At least the bastard was dead now and would never lay a hand on either one of his women again.