Cause for Murder (14 page)

Maduk changed into jeans and a cotton shirt in the master bedroom and hung up his suit. He then went outside to the detached garage. Pulling on a pair of work gloves from the tool bench, he picked a short-handled shovel from the row of hanging tools on the wall. Opening a small box in the corner, he checked the lid on the container inside. After making sure it didn't leak, he picked up the box and carried it out the back door. He meandered out to the border of the property and disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

By the time he returned, the sun had set. He hung the shovel on its respective nail, and tossed the gloves back onto the work bench. Weariness crept over his body. He headed straight to the bedroom, opened the windows, stripped down to his underwear and stretched his long body across the bed. Soon, the crickets lulled him to sleep.

The next morning, Sam rolled over, stretched and stared at the ceiling. He sure didn't look forward to the job today. Thank goodness Richard offered to join him. He hoped Maryann meant what she said when she slammed the door. She probably didn't think he heard, but a voice laced with fire carries through wood.

He sighed, climbed out of bed and rummaged through the box of old clothes in the closet. Tossing the rejects onto the floor, he finally settled on a pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a white wrinkled tee shirt with a stupid picture of a toothless singer across the front.

When he waltzed through the living room on the way to the kitchen, Hawkman glanced up from the paper and surveyed him from head to foot. “Hope you don't plan on wearing that garb on a date."

Sam couldn't resist laughing. “Ah, Hawkman. Darn, I thought this attire would stack up a million points with the girls."

Hawkman shook his head. “Don't count on one."

Sam grimaced. “Gonna do some painting today at the Parker's. Fortunately, Richard's got the day off and offered to help. He's going to pick me up before lunch."

"You sure don't sound very enthused. Looks like this job has become more of a hassle than you expected."

"I don't mind the work. It's Maryann that drives me crazy. She's always there trying to come on to me."

"Take it as a compliment."

"I would, if it came from anyone but her."

Hawkman folded the paper on his lap. “Sounds like she's definitely gotten under your skin. I really don't know how to tell you to discourage her. It's hard to be rude while working in her home."

Sam through up his hands. “I'll be fine. I hoped she'd get a summer job, but she doesn't seem interested in finding one. Which sort of surprises me, as she works at the university all the time."

"How come you know so much about a person you dislike so much?"

"She makes a big pest out of herself at school, and manages to come over to my apartment for some cockeyed reason once or twice a week. Since she lives in the building next to mine, she's always running out of sugar, salt or bread. Always some dumb excuse to knock on my door. If it's not that, she wants to ask me a question about a class I'm taking. I tell you, if it wasn't so hard to find a place to live near the campus, I'd move and never tell her my address."

"What sort of jobs does she do?"

"Everything from slinging hash at the cafeteria, working with a landscaper to helping a chemist in his lab."

"At least she's ambitious."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Don't you think you're judging her pretty harshly?"

Sam shot him a fierce look. “No,” he said, stalking into the kitchen.

Hawkman moved from the living room to the eating bar.

"Where's Jennifer?” Sam asked, opening the refrigerator.

"She had an early morning appointment in town."

He held up a package wrapped in foil. “Do you think she'd mind if I made some sandwiches for me and Richard out of this leftover meat loaf? They'd sure taste better than some fast food stuff."

"I'm sure she'd be pleased that you thought it that good. Help yourself."

"If she gets mad, it's your fault."

Hawkman laughed. “Okay, I'll take the blame."

Sam busied himself making lunches and Hawkman drifted back to the living room to finish reading the paper.

Hawkman heard the beep of Richard's pickup and Sam hurried out the door carrying the lunch bag. After the boys left, he dropped the paper on the coffee table, turned his chair and stared out over the lake. It appeared Maryann had access to all sorts of chemicals. She worked with a gardener who could have introduced her to weed and pest control poisons, and also a chemist. Through those experiences and her classes, she probably learned how the body would react if toxins were ingested. This girl might be one to keep a close eye on. He hoped Sam wasn't in any danger, being in such close proximity to the woman. She obviously had a crush on him and if he riled her, she might feel rejected. The thought sent a shudder through his body. People have killed for less.

Maybe he should drop by the Parker's every now and then to see how the boys were doing. He didn't have any pressing cases right now, so he could do a little spying without looking too conspicuous. Plopping on his hat, he figured he'd go to the office, leave a bit early, then head over to the Parker house.

Driving toward Medford, he wondered how long it'd take before Detective Williams received the results of those tests. His gut told him Burke Parker died of poisoning, either accidentally or by someone else's hand. When he noticed the scoring of the lips and tongue in the photos of the body, it definitely told him something toxic had been ingested. As an agent, he'd seen more poisonings that he cared to mention. But until they had the tests back, he'd have to keep his opinions to himself. An investigation would damn near include the whole town of Yreka. Everyone he spoke to thought the man a scum bag. They all had a reason to kill him. Along with Maryann, Maduk and Lilly.

When he reached the city limits, he suppressed the urge to stop by the police station. Williams promised he'd call when the results arrived. And he'd learned years ago, one doesn't rush the lab. Unless, of course, it was a high profile case, and this wasn't one.

Hawkman spent a couple of hours at the office answering calls and getting his financial statement caught up. He missed Jennifer popping in now and then to keep his bookkeeping updated, but since she'd signed a contract to do a mystery series, she didn't have the time. He glanced at his watch and decided he'd better get going if he wanted to catch the boys before they called it a day.

A block from the Parker's, he spotted Richard's truck parked in front, but Lilly's car was gone. He figured she'd left for work long ago. As he approached the house, he noticed the windows were open and the front door stood ajar. At least the boys were thinking and had good ventilation while painting.

Hawkman pulled up close to the tailgate of Richard's truck and got out. He moseyed up to the front door and poked his head inside. Sam stood on a ladder which rested on a tarped floor. While he rolled paint across the ceiling, Richard sat on his butt and painted the trim board along the floor. “How you guys doing?"

Sam's painter hat had not protected his whole face, white speckles of paint glistened across his nose and cheeks. “Hi, Hawkman. Need a job? We don't pay well, but we could use any kind of help."

Richard stopped in the middle of a brush stroke and glanced up. A large white smudge graced his neck and a streak iced his dark hair

Hawkman laughed. “Looks like you guys have been in a paint fight."

Sam placed the roller in the pan and climbed down the rungs. “Man, doesn't matter how careful one is, you end up with paint all over your body."

"There's always more to a job than meets the eye.” Hawkman stepped into the room, put his fists on his hips and surveyed the walls. “You guys are doing a good job. Looks nice."

"Thanks."

"Where's Maryann and her mother?"

"They left together. Mrs. Parker had to go to work, and I heard Maryann tell her she'd pick her up, as she needed the car to run some errands. We haven't seen either of them since.” Sam turned his head away from Richard's view. “And that suits me just fine."

Hawkman brushed his hand across his mouth and snickered. “I see.” He sauntered toward the kitchen. “Looks like you have this room ready, too. Are you going to try to do it before you call it a day?"

"Yeah, I think we can get them both done by dark. We're almost finished in here."

Hawkman headed down the short hallway followed by Sam and Richard. He glanced into a room where clothes were strewn across the unmade bed and draped over a chair. Several different pairs of shoes were scattered across the floor. A dirty plate and glass sat on the dresser. “May I make a suggestion?"

"Sure,” Sam said.

"Do one bedroom at a time. That way if the fumes are strong, then the two women can sleep together or one of them can sleep on the couch in the living room."

Richard nodded. “Good idea. And the smell is strong after the first coat. Having everything open helps. But I doubt they'll want to keep the house unlocked at night."

Hawkman turned toward the other bedroom and shoved open the door. He stood in the hallway and noticed a doll placed on the carefully made bed. In the closet, clothes hung neatly and shoes lined the floor. “Is this Maryann's room?"

Sam turned and headed toward the ladder. “Yeah, I think so."

Quite a difference in the housekeeping, Hawkman thought, as he studied the interior for several moments. He closed the door and strolled back into the living room. “If you guys are going to paint the kitchen tonight, you're going to get hungry. I'm sure you've already eaten those sandwiches you brought. Want me to go grab you some hamburgers before I head home?"

Richard dug into his pocket and handed Hawkman a five dollar bill. “That'd be great."

Hawkman waved a hand. “Put your money away, it's on me."

"Thanks, Mr. Casey."

The boys were taking the paint gear into the kitchen as Hawkman stepped out onto the front porch. He decided to look around the exterior of the house to see what might be required for the outside job. If the boys needed anything, he could pick it up while in town. At least, they wouldn't have furniture to cover. He walked around to the backyard and eyed the level of the roof line. After some mental calculations, he decided the two ladders Sam had brought were tall enough. As he came around to the car port where Lilly parked her car, he noticed a storage cabinet built along the wall. He opened the doors, squatted on his haunches and studied the contents.

Sam peeked out the back door as Hawkman rounded the corner of the house. He knew his dad had something on his mind, like scouting the area. That made him a good private investigator when he took advantage of every opportunity. He wondered if there'd been any news from Detective Williams.

As much as Sam disliked Maryann, he didn't want her or her mother to go through any unnecessary trauma. It nagged at him that they might be under heavy suspicion. He felt they'd been through enough.

After several moments, Sam wondered why he hadn't heard Hawkman leave. Placing the paint roller into the pan, he wiped his hands with a rag, then touched his friend on the shoulder. “I'll be back in a minute."

Richard nodded and continued painting.

Sam strolled around the side of the house and spotted Hawkman kneeling in front of the cabinet under the carport.

"What are you looking for?” Sam asked.

Hawkman glanced up. “Nothing in particular. Just nosing around."

"Did you hear anything from Williams today?"

"Nope. Not a word,” Hawkman said, closing the cabinet and brushing off his hands. “I'll go get your sandwiches now. Be back shortly."

Sam watched as he drove away, then glanced at the cupboard. His curiosity made him flip open the doors with his fingers. He crouched down so he could scan the inside. Seeing nothing but old cans and bottles, he shrugged, closed the cabinet, and went back into the house.

The boys moved into the kitchen and found painting this small area more tedious than the living room. They were constantly getting themselves into odd positions.

"Man, I bet I'll be sore tomorrow,” Richard said, straightening and rubbing his back after leaning over the stove for several minutes.

Sam scooted out from behind the refrigerator. “Yep, we're straining muscles that haven't been worked in a while.” He checked the small copper pipe leading into the appliance. “Sure hope we don't cause a leak in the ice maker. That tube is stretched to the max."

Hawkman soon returned with two large sacks. “Okay, boys, break time."

Sniffing the aroma of french fries and hamburgers, both boys immediately set down their painting gear.

"Oh man, does that smell good,” Richard said, grinning as he scrubbed over the sink.

They took their food from Hawkman, exited to the front porch away from the fumes, and sat on the steps, where they unwrapped the juicy burgers.

"I'm taking off,” Hawkman said. “I'll tell Jennifer you won't be home for dinner. Richard, want me to call your uncle and tell him not to expect you until late?"

He nodded. “Yeah, thanks. That'd be great."

After Hawkman left the premises, he called Uncle Joe on his cell phone; then his thoughts went to the things he'd observed at the Parker's. Maryann appeared abnormally fastidious for a girl her age. He'd seen the apartments at the college when he and Jennifer had searched for Sam's living quarters between his freshman and sophomore year. They were amazed at the clutter left behind in both the girls’ and boys’ places. No wonder Jennifer found strange towels and shirts in Sam's laundry. The kids were oblivious to ownership, and grabbed whatever happened to be handy. It surprised them Sam hadn't come down sick more often since the kitchens were definitely not clean. Guess they build up an immunity.

Lilly's room appeared more like a college student's than Maryann's. Strange how they were so opposite. But maybe the girl's mother hadn't always been that messy. She'd definitely not led a life of leisure.