In for the Kill [Hawkman Series Book 9] (10 page)

"You're missing the point. If I have the desire, I want the freedom to go."

"Bear with me. It won't be long.” He opened the coat closet door and threw the switch to activate the alarm throughout the house. “Just remember it's on."

She grimaced and moved into the kitchen. “How about a big Dagwood sandwich tonight?"

His eyes lit up. “Sounds good."

The next morning, Hawkman arose feeling more like himself. The stitches on his scalp itched and he hoped in another day or two the doctor would remove them. He flipped off the alarm, then picked up the new Stetson hat from the end table and cautiously placed it on his head. Shrugging his shoulders, he smiled to himself as he tugged at the brim until it fit low on his forehead. He strolled out the back door, and examined the area near their bedroom, looking for any telltale signs he might have missed yesterday. After examining the lock again on the slider, he knew whoever opened it had used a pick. This guy was no amateur. It nagged at his mind why this person had chosen him to make life miserable. He hoped his old Agency boss, Bill, would have some answers. If he didn't hear from him soon, he'd call again.

Hawkman checked Pretty Girl and considered taking her hunting. He'd neglected his pet falcon long enough. It would keep him busy and out of Jennifer's hair for at least a couple of hours. He meandered toward the front yard, pulling a weed here or there. When he reached the front fence, he leaned his forearms on the top rung and studied the landscape beyond the fire house.

"Hey, heard you got into a little fray in town."

Hawkman turned his head toward the voice and recognized his neighbor from down the road. “Bob, how's it going? Haven't seen you in awhile. Appears you and the wife do a lot of traveling around the country.” Then he pointed toward the mutts scampering across the grass. “Looks like you've got the dog patrol this morning."

"Yeah, these rascals get fidgety.” He rested against the end post. “And I'm getting tired of driving all over the place. I'm hoping to keep the little woman home for awhile so I can get my energy back.” He laughed. “So what's the scoop?"

Hawkman gave him a quick description of how he'd acquired the head injury. “Have no idea who did it. Not sure if I interrupted a robbery or what. But I sure took a wallop."

"The police don't have any suspects?"

"Nope."

"Well, you take care of yourself. I better get these monsters home."

"Oh, Bob, have there been any house break-ins on your end?"

His neighbor looked at him with concern. “No. Why?"

"We suspect someone tried to get into our house. Just wondered if you've noticed any strangers lingering about or different vehicles?"

"That's a bit scary to hear. Usually the residents don't have those types of problems. It's the ones who only come a few months out of the year and their houses are left vacant the rest of the time. But even then you seldom hear about such incidents.” Bob rubbed his chin while staring at the ground. “You know, I did spot an old red Willys jeep cruising about yesterday. Never seen it before, but the kids go crazy over those types and it might just be a new toy for someone."

"True. Could you tell if the driver was a young person?"

He shook his head. “No. Could have been though; he had on a baseball cap, pulled down low over his eyes."

"Thanks, Bob. If you see the jeep again, will you give me a jingle?"

"Sure.” He gave a wave and whistled for his dogs, then headed down the road toward his place.

Hawkman stood at the fence for several more minutes, thinking about the red vehicle. It could very well have been Hargrove. He walked back toward the garage, stopped at the sprinkler controls and twisted them on. After adjusting a couple of the sprayer heads, he went into the house.

Jennifer sat on the couch, her coffee cup on the table as she tossed the stuffed bunny to Miss Marple. When he walked in, the cat stopped her play immediately, headed straight for his feet and rubbed against the leather of his cowboy boots.

"The little twerp,” Jennifer laughed. “I do think she likes you better than me."

He raised his brows and grinned. “Told ya."

She went into the kitchen with her empty mug. “I saw you talking to Bob. Has he noticed anything unusual?"

"Have you taken lessons from Richard on how to lip read?"

She chuckled. “No, but I know my husband. Any conversation will have some pointed questions."

"You're right, I did ask him if he's seen any strange vehicles in the area."

Filling her mug, she carried it to the kitchen bar and sat down on one of the stools. “Well, what'd he say?"

"A red Willys jeep."

Jennifer eyed him over her cup as she blew on the hot brew. “Bet it's Jack Hargrove."

Hawkman frowned. “What makes you think so?"

"Because, I have a feeling he's going to hide out in the hills. And he needs a four-wheel drive."

He stared at her in silence.

"Why are you looking at me like that?” Jennifer asked.

Hawkman rubbed his mustache. “Sometimes you scare me."

She smiled. “How?"

"You come up with these uncanny scenarios and they make sense. Do you realize how many times you've helped me solve a case?"

"I just blurted out the first thought that popped into my head. Do you really think he might do such a thing?"

"Yes. The police are on his tail. He either wants to kill me or make me suffer. Since he hasn't accomplished either, he's got to hide until he achieves his goal.” Hawkman crossed the room, opened the dining room drapes and pointed. “He wants to be close enough to hassle us, and there's no better place to hang out than up in those hills. I think you might have well hit on his plan."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to track him."

She wrinkled her forehead and stood. “Honey, you can't until you've recovered completely."

"It'll be a couple of days before I do anything, and I want to talk to the Bronsons."

She refilled her mug and sat back down. “Well, that's a relief."

"Tomorrow I'll try to contact Bill Blackwell at the Agency and see if he has any more information, I've got to figure out what beef Hargrove has with me. Also, maybe Detective Williams will have some information. If a Willys jeep has been stolen, then we can pretty well bet Hargrove's behind it.” He reached up toward his head. “And I've got to get these stitches out. The itching is driving me crazy."

"Let me take a look."

He removed his hat and bent his head forward. “I took off the bandage so it could get some air."

"The cut looks real clean and smooth. Hair is already growing back. You seem to heal fast. Today's Wednesday, so I'd bet by Friday the doctor would remove them."

"Could you make an appointment for me? I doubt they'd take a walk-in. Doctors are so busy these days, they don't have fifteen minutes to spare."

"Sure."

"I think I'll take Pretty Girl out for a hunt today. I've neglected her badly."

"That's a good idea."

Jennifer gazed out the window as Hawkman prepared to take the falcon from the aviary. The bird appeared to sense the hunt. She flapped her wings and made a loud pitched noise as she climbed onto the long leather glove protecting Hawkman's arm.

He carried her to the old pickup parked in the side yard where he'd installed a permanent perch inside the cab. Jennifer watched until the truck disappeared up the road toward Topsy Grade. Before he left, he'd thrown on the alarm, and checked to make sure all the doors and windows were locked. His last words were ‘stay inside'. She could keep the drapes open during the daylight hours, but still felt like a prisoner inside her own home. It must be a psychological thing she thought, as she headed for her computer. There are many days I don't leave this house while I'm writing. She let out a sigh. But let someone tell me I can't leave, and I rebel.

In her heart, she knew Hawkman had more than one objective in mind when he left. She figured he planned on scouting the area while Pretty Girl hunted.

Jennifer started to sit down at her computer, but put a hand to her mouth and tittered. “Miss Marple, you're in my seat. Since your master isn't here, you decided to pay attention to me.” She lifted the ball of fur and looked into her eyes. “You know, you're pretty fickle, but you're still a doll."

Placing the cat on the floor, she turned on the computer. While it booted up, Miss Marple jumped upon the chair next to Jennifer, then hopped upon the table and settled across some of the notepads.

Jennifer studied her for a few seconds. “My gosh, I think you've grown three or four inches in just a few days.” She ran a hand down the cat's furry back. “Okay, if you promise to be still, I'll let you stay there."

It didn't take long before Jennifer's fingers flying across the keyboard caught Miss Marple's eye. She literally pounced on her hand, causing a row of unreadable print across the page. Jennifer burst into laughter. “Oh, you little rascal. I'll never get anything written.” She transferred the playful feline to the floor, moved the chair out of range, fetched the stuffed bunny, along with several other toys, and took a few minutes to play with the kitten. Once she had her distracted, Jennifer returned to her work. She found it hard not to peek around the computer to watch the cat's antics as she pounced on the toys. This animal had definitely proved herself to be a delight.

Jennifer ran into a block on her story and stared out over the lake, trying to think where she wanted to go with the plot. She straightened in her seat as she spotted a red jeep coming down the road on the other side of the lake. Hastening to the window, she watched it lumber pass the bridge and head toward Topsy Grade. It definitely looked like an old model. She knew she'd never seen it before.

Hawkman stopped at the Miller Ranch, but found no one home. They must have all been out in the fields or at work in town. He'd kept his eyes peeled at every turnoff and open space in hopes of spotting the red jeep, but so far had seen nothing resembling such a vehicle. Driving on up the grade, he headed for Richard's place, knowing Pretty Girl liked to hunt from the knoll behind their house. Surrounded by trees, the area thrived with ground squirrels and other varmints. Uncle Joe, who worked in town, told him he had permission to come anytime. Richard no longer lived at home, as he had a job in another state and only came back on holidays.

Hawkman chewed on a toothpick and shook his head. “Pretty Girl, these boys grow up fast."

The bird let out a squawk as if she understood. Hawkman bounced across the rough road leading up to the small hill. The falcon ruffled her wings, moving her head up and down, as if she recognized the landscape.

They were soon situated at the top, and Hawkman turned the Peregrine loose. She took off and disappeared into a cluster of oaks. He pulled off the glove, and reached under the seat for his binoculars. Setting the glasses to his face, he scanned the surrounding area as far as he could see in all directions. The countryside seemed mighty quiet. Not even a dust cloud appeared in the sky. Soon the falcon returned and soared above his head playing in the wind current. He observed the beautiful bird for several minutes before he pulled on the long leather glove and whistled. She took several sharp turns then came down and landed softly onto his arm.

"You were a little messy with your dinner,” Hawkman said, as he took a soft cloth from under the driver's seat, and wiped blood specks from her chest feathers. After tethering her to the perch, he turned the key in the ignition.

When they returned home, the sun sat low in the sky and the breeze had a cool nip. He put the bird into the aviary, gave her fresh water and filled her food tray, even though he knew she wouldn't need any nourishment tonight. Cold air whipped around the corner of the house, so he drew the tarp down over the cage. He glanced at the big window overlooking the lake and chuckled. Miss Marple sat on the inside ledge, watching his every move.

He had to go around to the front door to deactivate the alarm, and as he headed down the steps, he noticed the cover on the electric socket stood open again. Reaching over and flipping it shut, he frowned. Jennifer knows better than to leave it open, he thought as he headed around the house.

When he stepped inside, she glanced up from preparing some hors d’ oeuvres for their expected company. “I can see Pretty Girl looks mighty content, and noticed you flipped the tarp down. It must be getting cold outside as I definitely felt the draft across my feet when you opened the door."

"Yep, it's pretty nippy tonight; feels like an Alaskan front moving in.” He pointed toward the deck. “Before I forget, I wanted to ask why you aren't closing the cover on the electric outlet."

She looked puzzled as she carried a platter to the living room and placed it on the coffee table. “I haven't touched it in ages."

"That's odd. I've closed it twice in the past week."

"Maybe some curious raccoon has been investigating."

He scratched his sideburn. “I doubt the animal could open it. The spring's pretty tight. But it's possible. Their nimble little paws can do lots of mischief. However, they might get quite a shock if they poke a finger into the socket."

"I saw something interesting today."

"Oh yeah, what?"

"A red jeep."

His curiosity piqued, he followed her to the computer center. She shut down the machine and reached over to move the chair she'd scooted aside.

"Why's that clear over here?"

"Miss Marple decided to use it to get up on my desk. The little stinker is fascinated with my fingers on the keyboard. She wouldn't leave me alone, so I removed her ladder."

"I see. Okay, back to the jeep. When did you see it?"

"Shortly after you left."

"Where did it go?"

"Up the same road you did. I thought maybe you'd spot it."

"No, I didn't. And I kept an eye out for anything red. I stopped by the ranch, but didn't find anyone home."

"They're all working at other jobs just to make ends meet. It's really rough on people right now. They can't make a living off the land anymore."