Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14] (10 page)

Clyde's musical laugh filled the room. “She's a good woman."

Just as Hawkman pushed open the door to leave, causing the small bell at the top to jingle, Clause raised his hand.

"Wait. I almost forgot. An old man came in early this morning, and asked about the location of your office. I directed him, then told him you normally didn't get here until nine or after. He had an envelope in his hand, so he might have deposited it in the mail slot on your door."

Hawkman raised his brows. “What'd he look like?"

Clyde wrinkled his nose. “Dirty. The smell of him lingered and I had to open the door for a few minutes after he left."

"Thanks. Glad I hadn't arrived yet."

Hawkman left the bakery and jogged up the stairs. When he opened the door, the normal mail hadn't been delivered, but a long white envelope lay on the floor. He picked it up, then quickly plugged in the coffee pot, before settling at his desk.

He examined the wrapper, which had no return address, but dirty fingerprints spotted the outside. Slitting it open, he pulled out a sheet of paper, unfolded it, and glanced at the signature. It surprised him to see Jacob Hutchinson scrawled across the bottom. Smoothing out the top, he puzzled over the message written in unsteady handwriting. “Dear Mr. Casey, No need for you to worry about my property anymore. I drove up to check it out and everything is fine. Jeb is taking good care of it.

Thanks for your concern."

Baffled by the note, Hawkman leaned back in the chair, and scratched his sideburn. “Why would he think it necessary to write me?” he murmured.

He twisted around in his chair, stood, and paced the small office. Soon, he stopped and stared out the window, as a question bounced around his brain. Either the guy wants me to continue checking on the place, or he actually means things are okay. Which is it?

Sitting back down, he refolded the letter and stuck it back inside the envelope. He didn't know why it even bothered him, as he planned to keep a close check on the cabin regardless.

The same morning, Randy awoke on the cot in the kitchen, the covers tucked around his chin; he thought about the events of yesterday. His leg ached, and so did his arm. He eyed his mother, a shawl draped across her shoulders. She seemed tired as she stoked the big stove to warm the cabin. A couple of times she wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks. He wondered if she was cleaning off tears or sweat. She didn't seem happy; only when she played a game with him or got Marcy to smile did she laugh.

His dad and Earl stayed outside most of the time. Randy didn't know what they did, other than bring in game for food, or fish from the river. They sure didn't help his mom. She even had to clean the birds, rabbits and small stuff the guys shot. Dad did clean the deer or the occasional wild boar and hung them in the smoke house.

It appeared his dad didn't want him around the small outbuilding. It definitely got him in trouble yesterday when he spotted the padlock hanging loose, and attempted to go inside. His dad whirled around when he heard the door open, grabbed him by the arm, half carried him outside, then shoved him down on that rough log with the nub of a broken branch.

He closed his eyes and shuddered at the thought of how his scream brought Earl and Mom running. Dad shut the door quickly. Mom took one look at the blood soaking up her son's jeans and told Earl to go get Mrs. Casey, and tell her I'd fallen on my bike. I still don't know what's going on in that shed.

Randy suddenly felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, young man, are you having a bad dream?"

Opening his eyes, he looked into the face of his smiling mom. He tried to sit up, but groaned. “Yeah, I was dreaming about yesterday."

"You mustn't think about it. You're going to heal good this time and you're not going to act foolish again. You must never tell Mrs. Casey your dad pushed you down. Promise me."

"I won't tell her, but why didn't Dad want me to see inside the shed?"

"I don't know, and we don't care. Some silly thing men do. I hope you never act that way."

Marcy began to fuss, and Beth moved to the crib and picked her up. Putting the baby to her shoulder, she patted her back and soon Marcy let out a big burp.

Randy laughed. “Good one, Marcy. You should feel better now.” He glanced at his mom, when she quickly put the baby down and put a hand to her stomach. “Mom, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, just had a gas twinge. Maybe I need someone to put me over their shoulder and pat my back,” she said, laughing.

He knew she'd forced the laugh; he could tell by the way she grimaced. “Maybe you should lie down for a while."

"I'm fine. Probably need to get some food down me. Bet you're hungry too."

Randy didn't like the way his mother went about the business of cooking this morning. Instead of her normal quick self, her steps were slow and she kept putting her hand to her waist. A couple of times she even jerked a little, then took a deep breath. He knew she was experiencing some pains. Maybe Mrs. Casey would come by today. He'd tell her about his Mom. He closed his eyes and wished Mrs. Casey would get his message. His mother had told him many times if you want something really bad, close your eyes and wish as hard as you can. Let the gods take your message freely in the air, and they'll deliver it. He knew it was an Indian legend, but he wished really hard and prayed the gods would deliver.

"Randy, have you gone back to sleep?"

He opened his eyes to find his mother standing over him with a platter of food. “I was just making a wish."

"You need to eat so you'll heal strong. Can you sit up okay?"

He pushed up his upper body with his elbows and gently moved his legs so his feet were on the floor. “Hey, I did, without it hurting."

"That's good news.” She set the plate on a wooden box next to him.

Soon his dad and Earl were at the table, chowing down like they hadn't eaten in a week. Randy watched then out of the corner of his eye, and wondered if they'd leave anything for Mom.

When Marcy began to whimper, Randy wanted to pick her up, but was afraid to move due to his injury. “Mom, put her on my bed, and I'll play with her so you can eat."

Beth smiled. “Good idea. You can usually make her laugh."

"You're such a sweet boy,” Earl said, mockingly.

Whirling around, Beth, pointed a finger at him. “Enough out of you."

Jeb cuffed Earl on the shoulder. “Let's get outside before you get into trouble. I need you to keep guard."

When they left, Randy exhaled a long breath and concentrated on keeping Marcy happy while his mother ate. He didn't mind taking care of Marcy; he adored his little sister. She had a cute smile and had just started to laugh out loud. It was fun to watch her kick and flap her arms when he made silly faces. Not only had she learned to laugh, but also had learned to roll over and he had to make sure he'd bunched up the quilt to her side so she wouldn't fall off his cot. When he glanced over at his mom, he noticed she'd only picked at her food.

"Mom, why aren't you eating?"

"My stomach seems to be upset, and I'm not hungry. Don't worry. It will pass."

Randy observed his mother as she finished cleaning up the kitchen. Once she even stumbled, and grimaced as she brought the dirty utensils from the table to the sink. He couldn't close his eyes, but in his mind, he sent off his wishes again.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Jennifer stood at the kitchen sink, and stared out the window, searching for any sign of the Killdeer bird. She so hoped it would be back this year. It built its nest on the ground among the gravel or rocky soil. You couldn't see the eggs, as they blended into the background and appeared as rocks. Such a clever little creature. It had its own defense system, pretending to be injured, it dragged its wing and fluttered away from the nest to distract the enemy. So far, she hadn't seen any evidence of the small fowl.

Even with the fledgling on her mind, Randy kept popping into her head as if he were summoning her. She brushed the thought away, since she and Hawkman had been there for the biggest part of last night. Surely, if some sort of emergency arose, Beth would send Earl to fetch her.

Settling at her computer, Jennifer vowed to get another chapter written on her latest book. She felt so far behind, and a deadline loomed in the very near future. The manuscript popped up on the monitor, and her mind went blank. She even reread the last chapter in hopes it would help her focus on the story, but nothing seemed to work. Closing her eyes, she massaged her temples with the tips of her fingers, but Randy's face kept floating before her. Finally, she stood, went to the kitchen, filled a glass with ice, and dug out a soda from the refrigerator.

"Maybe a bit of sugar will perk me up,” she said to Miss Marple, as the cat rubbed against her legs.

Heading back to the machine, she tried again to concentrate, but this time she swore she could hear Randy's voice calling. “This is getting weird,” she said to her pet, who'd managed to jump onto the table beside the keyboard. “It would certainly be convenient if Beth had a phone; I could just call and see if everything was okay."

Finally, she gave up trying to write, and decided to drive to the cabin. It would take her no more than an hour to check on Randy, and return home. Then maybe she could work with a clear head. She scribbled a note to Hawkman, left it on the kitchen bar, picked up her fanny pack, and buckled it around her waist. Snatching the keys off the rack, she headed out the door.

She arrived at the cabin without incident, even though, she'd seen Earl sitting on a fallen limb in the shadows, his rifle resting across his thighs. Knocking softly on the door, she called Beth's name. To her surprise, Randy responded loudly.

"Mrs. Casey, hurry, come in."

Jennifer opened the door and stepped inside. “What is it, Randy?"

"Mom, she's really sick.” He pointed at the floor.

Jennifer had to scurry around the iron stove to see where he'd aimed his finger. Beth lay curled in a fetal position, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Beth!” Jennifer cried, dropping to her knees and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm hurting so bad."

"Where's the pain?"

Beth made a circular movement with her hand over her abdomen. “It comes and goes, but the last pain really hit hard and I just had to lie down where I stood.” She glanced at Jennifer. “I certainly didn't expect you today."

"I kept having these flashes of Randy running through my mind, like he was calling me."

Randy jerked his head around, his eyes wide. “Mom, it works."

Beth pushed herself up to a sitting position. “What?"

"Wishing for something really hard. You'd said it was an old Indian legend. I've been closing my eyes every chance I had and wished for Mrs. Casey to come. I started early this morning when I knew you weren't feeling good.” He waved a hand in the air. “Now look, she's here."

Beth forced a smile. “Yes, it must have worked."

"I think I should take you to the doctor,” Jennifer said.

"No, it will go away, Probably just something I ate that disagreed with me."

"Is any one else in the family ill?"

"No, but that doesn't mean anything. I'm the only female, besides Marcy, and she's too young. These men can eat anything. Even if it's tainted."

Beth pulled herself to a standing position and slowly walked over to a chair. “I'm going to be fine, believe me."

"I hate to leave you like this."

"Don't worry, tomorrow is a new day."

Jennifer frowned. “I wish you had a phone so I could call and find out."

Beth glanced at Randy and smiled. “I'll have him send a message through his mind, if I need you."

"It sure worked today, so it should work tomorrow. However, I might drive up just to satisfy myself."

"Whatever you wish."

Jennifer said her goodbyes and left. Driving home, she still had concerns, but Beth seemed to know for sure she'd be okay. Did the woman know what was causing the pain? Jennifer had the feeling she did.

When she arrived home, she went to the computer, and found her mind clear enough to get some work done on her book. She'd throw her idea at Hawkman tonight and see if he agreed with the conclusion she'd come to about Beth's strange condition.

Hawkman sat at his desk, and studied the monitor. Trying to find a missing person wasn't an easy job, especially when one hasn't had much sleep the night before. He leaned back in the chair, flipped up his eye-patch and rubbed his eyes. This new case he'd just taken on, was a woman in her fifties, looking for her biological parent. He never could understand why people wanted to find someone who'd given them up at birth. This woman had been raised by a loving family, and now she wanted to hunt down her real mother. He'd try, but his heart wasn't in it. After another hour of searching, he shut down the computer and left the office. Tonight he planned on an early bedtime. He prayed there wouldn't be another adventure at the Hutchinsons'.

It seemed the drive home took forever, but he finally pulled into the garage, took his briefcase from the passenger seat and walked inside. When he placed his attache case on the counter, he noticed a note from Jennifer stating she'd gone to the cabin. He frowned, but her Ford was parked in the garage. Before any horrible thoughts could come to his mind, she appeared from the back of the house.

"Hi, Hon, I didn't hear you drive up.” She stood on her toes and planted a kiss on his chin. “So how was your day? You look tired."

"Strange. Yes, I'm pooped.” He held up the note. “Did you go to the Hutchinsons’ place again?"

"Yes, I'll tell you all about it."

"It seems this family isn't going to leave us alone."

"Oh, why do you say that?"

"I received a letter from Jacob Hutchinson today. He even hand-delivered it to my office.” He removed the envelope from the briefcase and handed it to her. “I'd like your translation of what it means."

"Did you talk to the man?” she asked, as she went to her chair by the window.