“Come on,” Hawk told Nikki, spotting an empty table near the back.
“Sure,” Nikki sighed miserably. Sitting down at the table, Nikki once again focused on the yearbook photos hanging on the walls. “I'm ruining these people’s lives.”
Hawk waved a hand irritably at the table holding the two snotty women. “Who cares what they think, Nikki? The fact is, no matter where you moved to, Reelington would have tracked you down. It would have been the same in any town.”
“I guess,” Nikki said in a sad voice. “Hawk, I'm going back to Atlanta. I'm not welcome here anymore.”
Hawk stared at Nikki from across the table. “Then run away, you coward.”
“Excuse me?” Nikki asked, shocked.
“Run,” Hawk said and waved his hand toward the front door. “Run like a scalded dog back to Atlanta and hide there like a coward. Hide like a coward among thousands of people with no faces instead of staying here and holding your ground. Man, did I have you pegged wrong! I thought you had guts.”
“Hawk, I only want what’s best for everyone and—”
“You only want what's best for you,” Hawk scolded Nikki. “This is America, isn't it? A person has the freedom to live where they want, don't they? Man, I can just see all the good men who shed their blood and died for your freedom turning over in their graves. Did they back down in the face of danger? No, they held their ground and moved forward. Oh, heck, I'm wasting my breath. Run away, you coward.”
“I'm not a coward,” Nikki said, feeling anger begin to boil in her chest.
“Sure you are.”
“Be quiet,” Nikki demanded. “You don't know what you're saying. You don't know anything about me, Mr. Daily. I'm—”
“A coward,” Hawk said and called for Mira to bring him a cup of coffee.
Steaming, Nikki squeezed her hands together. “If you call me a coward one more time, I'm going to slap the living daylights out of you!”
The tone of Nikki's voice caused people to turn away from their food and look at her. Hawk grinned. “Here you are standing up to me, but what about them?”
Nikki yanked her eyes away from Hawk and locked eyes with everyone staring at her. Before she could prevent her body from moving, she shot to her feet and yelled: “If anyone in this diner doesn't like my presence in this town then they can leave, because I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to stay. My store is here to stay. My cabin is here to stay. Does everyone understand that? Nikki Bates isn't going anywhere, and if that upsets anyone then hit the road, Jack!”
Hawk began clapping. Nikki looked down at him. That's when she realized that Hawk had deliberately angered her in order to bring out a sleeping tiger. “Let's eat, champ.”
Nikki slowly sat back down. Breathing hard, she grabbed a napkin and then, realizing she had no use for it, dropped it. “Okay, so you got me riled up and made me speak my mind. Happy?”
“I sure am, so let me warn you if you talk about leaving again, I'm going to shoot you in both of your legs. Now let's focus on the case,” Hawk told Nikki.
Mira approached the table with two cups of coffee, smiled at Nikki, placed the cups down and walked away as a few people got up from their tables and left. Nikki watched the people pay their checks and storm out of the diner. Mira simply told them to have a nice day and come back real soon. “Hawk,” Nikki admitted, “I don't know how to out-think Reelington this time. Last time...Hawk, last time he didn't even know I was alive. I was a shock to him, which worked to my advantage.”
Hawk sipped on his coffee and nodded for Nikki to begin working on her coffee. “James was able to memorize the tag on the black sedan Reelington is driving. The car is stolen. The gun Zach knocked out of his hand was reported stolen, too.”
“Not surprising,” Nikki said.
Hawk bit his lower lip. “The car was reported stolen by a Judge Matthew Stewart who, by chance, just happens to be a judge in Atlanta, Georgia.”
“Matthew Stewart, he was one of the judges on Reelington's hit list. His daughter was with Reelington the night Detective Dalton captured him,” Nikki said in a strained voice.
“The car belongs to one Tara Stewart,” Hawk continued. “Now I wonder why the judge reported his daughter’s car stolen instead of his daughter filing the report?”
“Dalton did say a girl helped Reelington escape prison,” Nikki told Hawk.
Hawk rubbed his chin. “I'm going to run a background on this girl.”
“Don't,” Nikki told Hawk, taking a sip of her coffee. “Tara Stewart is into the 'bad boy' type. She's also a heavy drinker but stays away from drugs. She's about twenty-two years old, I guess. Long blond hair, dresses in black a lot, black lipstick and eye shadow.”
“A real smudge on the Judge's plate, huh?”
Nikki told Hawk yes. “She has a criminal record, too. Mostly she's been arrested for assault.” Nikki looked down at her coffee. “Oh Hawk, I should have guessed it might have been Tara Stewart that helped Reelington. She stood by him in court, against Judge Stewart's wishes. I'm not batting too well on this one.”
“Your mind is focused on your son,” Hawk pointed out. “I can read your face, Nikki. You're extremely worried about your son, and I don't blame you. My mind would be on my family, too, if I were in your shoes.”
“I'm just worried Reelington might go after him,” Nikki confessed. “Hawk, we have to take this killer down.”
As Hawk began to speak, the front door to the diner opened. A tall, thin, man in his early thirties walked in. Hawk raised his head and looked at him. The man appeared normal enough. His short blond hair was combed neatly. The white and green striped shirt he was wearing was tucked into a pair of nice jeans. As far as Hawk could see, the man appeared to be a tourist. “We need a plan,” Hawk said, ignoring the man and returning his attention to Nikki.
“I'm flat broke in that area,” Nikki confessed. “Hawk, maybe I can lead Reelington out of town somehow? I mean, he is after me. We could pick a certain motel—a small one, you know—and use it as bait. I could pretend to hide there and hope Reelington will show up, and then you could grab him.”
Hawk considered Nikki's plan. He liked it. “Any motel in particular?”
“Well,” Nikki said biting down on her lip, “there is that old motel south of town.”
“The Guitar Inn?” Hawk laughed to himself, “Nikki, that place has been closed for years. A bunch of hippies opened it back in the day. After the hippies floated away into the wind, a man from China bought the motel and made a run at it but failed. Those rooms have been sitting empty for years.”
“Exactly,” Nikki told Hawk. “I'm going into hiding, remember? I'm not going to go check into a Hampton Inn, am I?”
“No, I guess not,” Hawk said following Nikki's lead. “Well...” Hawk was forced to make a quick decision, “I think we have a plan. I'll get word around town that you left and that someone spotted you hiding at the Guitar Inn.”
Mira walked up to the table carrying two plates holding delicious cheeseburgers and salted fries. “I know what you need,” she smiled at Nikki.
“Thanks, Mira. Say, can you do me a favor?” Nikki asked.
Hawk began to object but Nikki shook her head at him. “I need you to casually get word around that I'm leaving town.”
“But you said—”
“Please,” Nikki pleaded.
“Okay,” Mira promised and looked at Hawk. Hawk nodded his head. Mira sighed and walked away.
“Let's eat and get you out of town,” Hawk told Nikki.
As Nikki began to eat, a heavy rain started to fall from the sky outside. The afternoon turned dark and dangerous. Nikki looked toward the front door. “It's really starting to pour outside.”
“Yep,” Hawk said chewing a bite of cheeseburger, “weatherman said it's going to rain for a few days. Eat, okay? We have a lot of work to do. Someone out there—”
Before Hawk could finish, Chief Daily entered the diner, spotted Hawk, and hurried to the table.
“Reelington has been found dead. Come on,” he told Hawk and Nikki.
Chapter Fourteen
“What?” Nikki gasped.
“Someone called the station and said they found a dead body out behind Millin’s Gas Station, about two miles back on the old trail. I sent James out there to investigate. He found Reelington's body,” Chief Daily told Nikki in an exhausted voice. “My, what a mess. At least I got a shower and a fresh change of clothes, though.”
“And a cheeseburger,” Nikki said, handing Chief Daily her food. “I'm not hungry anymore.”
“Why? This is good news,” Chief Daily said, confused. Looking at the cheeseburger in his hand he decided to take a bite. “Hey, Mira, bring me a diet soda,” he yelled. “I need something to wash this burger down with.”
“Chief Daily, whoever killed Reelington will still come after me,” Nikki explained, feeling a horrible fear grip her chest.
“Could it be Tara Stewart?” Hawk suggested.
“Maybe,” Nikki agreed, “or maybe not.”
Mira ran a diet soda over to Chief Daily. “Food is on the house, you guys,” she said, reading the worry on Nikki's face. “Oh dear, not another one?”
Nikki didn't reply. Instead, she stood up, excused herself, and walked away to the bathroom. “Is she okay?” Chief Daily asked, sitting down.
“Nikki is under a lot of strain. We all are, Pop,” Hawk sighed. “You look tired out. I can go out to the scene if you need to grab a few winks.”
“I can sleep tonight,” Chief Daily told Hawk. He finished off his cheeseburger and then drained his glass of diet soda. “Who is this Tara Stewart you mentioned?”
Hawk quickly explained to Chief Daily about who Tara Stewart was. “Pop, run her for me, okay? I'll go out to the scene.”
“Well,” Chief Daily said, fighting back a yawn, “okay, son. But be careful. We still got a killer loose.”
“I know,” Hawk said standing up. “Pop, call Judge Stewart, too. Tell him what's going on here and that we've found his daughter's car. Stay under the radar on this, okay. We need to operate in the shadows for now.”
“You're telling me,” Chief Daily agreed. “Tell Ms. Bates that we're going to solve this case, okay?”
“You don't sound so sure.”
“I wish I could,” Chief Daily answered his son and left the diner.
When Nikki returned from the bathroom, Hawk dropped a ten-dollar tip on the table and walked Nikki outside. “You don't have to come,” he said, standing under a green metal awning.
Nikki studied the heavy falling rain. She felt cold even though the temperature was well above seventy degrees. “When you stick your nose where it doesn't belong, you have to be prepared to face the consequences,” she told Hawk. “I made enemies. My ex-husband warned me that I would make enemies, but I didn't listen. I've put my son's life in danger. I have to catch this killer, Hawk, for my son's sake.”
“After you, then,” Hawk said pointing to his jeep.
Nikki pushed her fear aside. She had work to do. “Let's go, Hawk.”
“Yes ma’am,” Hawk said. Leaving the protection of the awning, he jogged to his jeep and snatched open the driver's side door. Nikki followed close behind. Ignoring the rain, she ran to the jeep and jumped into the passenger's seat. “Seems to always rain on us, doesn't it?” Hawk asked as they pulled away from the diner.
“Yes, it does,” Nikki replied and grew silent as her mind began to chew on something. The rain was reminding her of something, but she couldn't remember what.
Hawk let Nikki sit in silence and think. He needed to think, too. By the time he reached Millin’s burned down gas station, the rain had let up some. Easing his jeep around the gas station and down the old trail, he glanced at Nikki. “Get your gun out and keep it at the ready.”
Nikki did as Hawk asked. They saw James standing in front of a cop car wearing an orange rain poncho and waving a flashlight in the air. Hawk pulled up to James and rolled down the driver-side window. “Where's the body?” he asked.
Wet from the rain, James tossed a thumb over his shoulder at the black sedan. On the other side of the car, under the tarp. Guy took a bullet to his chest,” James explained, using his left hand to wipe rain from his thin mustache. “Hawk, this guy has been out here a while. Good hiding place, too.”
“I bet,” Hawk agreed, turning off his jeep. Reaching around into the back seat, he fished out a black umbrella and handed it to Nikki. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Nikki said, desperately trying to recall a memory that was tugging at her gut. Getting out of the jeep, she opened the umbrella and placed it in her left hand while holding her gun in her right hand. Following Hawk around the black sedan, she saw a dead body lying next to an overturned white five-gallon bucket. Pausing, she examined the camp site. She spotted a propane stove, a sleeping bag, plastic bags holding canned groceries, and other assorted items that clearly told Nikki that Reelington had been around for a few weeks. When she spotted the .38 special lying on the ground next to Reelington's dead body, she shivered.
“Did you check the car?” Hawk asked James kneeling down next to the dead body.
“Yeah,” James said, standing next to Hawk, “found two suitcases in the trunk. One with men's clothing, the other with women's clothing. The glove compartment had a map. Nothing else.”
Hawk looked down into Larry Reelington's dead face. “Okay, who killed you?” he asked, biting the corner of his lip.
“Clean shot,” James pointed out. “I'd say the kill shot was made by a hunting rifle.”
“When the coroner digs out the bullet, we'll know,” Hawk told James, “but yeah, I have to say it seems that way.” Hawk remained kneeling down. Taking his eyes off Reelington, he examined the ground. “You see the extra set of footprints?”
“I did,” James told Hawk. “They disappear about a hundred meters west. They end near a spot that was heavily disturbed. I hunt a lot, Hawk. I know these woods. I figure someone was waiting for this guy, crouched down out of sight. When he got a clear shot, he took it.”
Hawk continued to examine the ground. “These prints were made by boots...say size eleven.”
“Judge Stewart's daughter doesn't wear a size eleven,” Nikki told Hawk, kneeling down next to him. “I saw this woman, Hawk. There's no way she wears a size eleven.”
“What does that mean?” James asked.
“It means that a woman didn't kill Reelington,” Hawk explained standing up.
“Or maybe Tara Stewart has someone with her?” Nikki also suggested. “Officer, can you show me where you think the shooter was hiding?”
“This way,” James pointed. Grateful the rain was letting up, he turned off his flashlight and led Nikki and Hawk to the spot that showed signs of disturbance. “See the grass, and those branches...and over there, not meaning to be rude ma’am, but there's scent of urine.”
Nikki floated her eyes around the woods, spotted broken branches, and then she looked down at the ground. A grassy area clearly told her that someone had been kneeling down in that spot. She saw more boot prints and even a used match on the ground. “What do you think?” she asked Hawk.
“You're the smart one,” Hawk replied. “Nikki, does Tara have a brother?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Nikki told Hawk forcing her mind to dip into old files and gather dusty information. “I believe she is an only child. Could it be that Tara wanted to make it appear like the shooter was a man?”
“Boot prints are too heavy,” James told Nikki. “See how the toe of the boot is equal to the heel?”
Nikki bent down and ran her finger over a boot print. “Yes, I see.”
“Millin doesn't have any relatives here, so this is not a revenge killing,” Hawk pointed out. “All right, no sense standing out here making easy targets of ourselves. James, go call the coroner and tell him to get his butt out here. Nikki and I will look around some more.”
“I'm at a loss,” Nikki confessed, handing Hawk the umbrell
a. Raising her face up into the soft falling rain, she closed her eyes. “Hawk, if Tara Stewart did not kill Larry Reelington, who did?”
“I have no idea,” Hawk said, closing the umbrella.
Nikki opened her eyes. Shaking some rain off of her face, she walked to the used match, bent down, and picked it up. “Box match,” she told Hawk. “Look around for a cigarette butt or a smoked cigar.”
Hawk began to search the ground. Nikki looked around, shoved her gun down into the ankle holster, and then, against her own desire, walked to the spot that had a scent of urine oozing up from the ground. Bending down, she began to move a few bushes aside. “I'll bleach my hands afterward,” she promised herself. Holding her breath, she searched the ground with her hands more than her eyes. The ground was wet from the rain, muddy in some spots, thick with brush and bushes in other spots. Overhead, tall trees that would blossom into beautiful colors once autumn arrived stared down at her with curious eyes. “Come on...be here...be here...” Nikki whispered as she searched the ground. Just when she was about ready to give up, her hand came across a cigarette butt lying under a bush. “Yes,” she said, cupping her hand over the cigarette butt. “Hawk, I got it!”
Hawk jogged over to Nikki and bent down. Nikki removed her hand. “You're a gem,” he said, smiling, and he quickly kissed Nikki on the cheek before he could stop himself. Nikki simply smiled. “Yeah, well,” Hawk said, blushing, “we better get back to the station and see if we can grab some prints off this cigarette butt. James, bring me a plastic evidence bag!”
James didn't respond. Nikki looked at Hawk. “He might not have heard you. Maybe I better go—”
Hawk froze. With stealthy eyes, he told Nikki to be quiet. “Stay right here, and do not move,” he whispered. “Get your gun out, too.” Staying low, Hawk moved through the woods until the black sedan came into view. Using a tree for cover, Hawk searched for James. James was nowhere to be seen. Not wasting any time, Hawk made his way back to Nikki. Only Nikki was now missing, too. Panicked, Hawk held back the urge to yell out Nikki's name. “Stay calm,” he told himself as the sky overhead opened up and heavy rain began to pour down.
Blueberry Truffle Murder (A Maple Hills Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 6