Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14] (18 page)

"Do you think he'll make the run at night?"

"Yes, especially if he uses the buckboard, which I think he will until he can get himself a truck."

"Have you figured how you're going to follow him?"

"No, but it will come to me."

Jennifer cocked her head and stared at him. “It isn't like you not to have a plan."

"Well, I sort of do, but I'm not telling you."

"Why, because it's dangerous?"

"Let's just say, it isn't real safe, but secure enough."

Jennifer slapped her hands on the desktop. “You certainly know how to make me worry."

He walked behind her and put his arms around her. “Please, don't worry. I'm going to come home safe."

She shoved him away. “Don't try to con me. I'm not falling for it."

He backed off and put his hands in the air. “I tried."

The next couple of days were uneventful as Jennifer stayed busy with the Ladies’ Auxiliary, and Hawkman spent his time catching up at work. Friday evening rolled around and Hawkman prepared to ride the four-wheeler up the back route and check on the progression of the home brew.

Jennifer ignored him and worked at her computer. Finally, she glanced at him as he filled his pockets with several surveillance items. When he took out his pistol and checked it for rounds, she broke the silence. “You obviously feel this trip might warrant the use of your gun? That tells me it's not as safe as you portrayed to me."

"I never venture into new territory without being prepared. If history is right, I could come across some very brutal men surrounding this type of operation."

"Shouldn't you have talked with the detective in Yreka before taking this on by yourself?"

"I need more concrete information before I approach him. All I have right now is circumstantial. I have no proof Jeb is selling his booze."

"Why don't I go with you? I can cover your back."

Hawkman jerked up his head. “Absolutely not. It's out of the question. Don't even pursue the subject."

She shrugged her shoulders. “Just trying to be helpful; you don't have to bite my head off."

"Sorry, didn't mean to. This is a one-man job. In fact, it might not even go down tonight."

He slipped on his jacket, buttoned it up, and went outside. Checking the Polaris for fuel, he topped it off, then headed out. Reaching the parking place, he figured he wouldn't have to go in as far, as long as he could get a view of the corral.

He'd thought earlier to slip a pair of night binoculars into the side pockets of the four-wheeler, and removed them once he'd parked. Threading through the brush, he soon arrived close enough to the pen, and put the glasses to his face. The horses were meandering around, and he could see the buckboard inside the barn. Obviously, no run would take place tonight or the animals would be hitched to the wagon.

Hawkman returned home. “No action tonight,” he said, entering the kitchen. “Have you by any chance seen Tami's car go by?"

"No, and I would've seen the headlights. No one has come over the bridge since you left."

"Good. I'm sure the buckboard is the means of transportation for the hooch. Tomorrow night will tell the tale."

"I'll be glad when this part of the investigation is over,” Jennifer said.

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Saturday, Hawkman tried to stay out of Jennifer's way as she spoke in curt sentences, but mostly ignored him. She definitely didn't seem happy, but he felt she'd get over it as long as he didn't tantalize her. He stayed in the garage, and tinkered with the vehicles.

Dusk soon arrived; he grabbed a sandwich, then prepared to leave. “Honey, I'm taking off; don't worry about me. It'll be late when I get home."

She approached him, put her arms around his neck. “I'm sorry, I've been such a pill. Please be careful, and promise you'll wake me when you get in. Remember, I love you very much."

He held her close for several minutes. “I love you, too. I'd never do anything to hurt you, so yes, I'll wake you when I get home.” He kissed her passionately, then pushed her back and gazed into her face. “You're so beautiful. Don't think for one minute, I'd let anything happen. I'm not about to take the chance of some other man having you."

She grinned. “I'll be waiting."

Feeling much better, Hawkman took off on the four-wheeler. He'd make a quick stop at the Hutchinson's corral to make sure the buckboard would be used, then he'd backtrack to the road leading out. Arriving at the parking spot for the Polaris, he took the binoculars from the side pack, then scurried through the brush. He approached the area where he could see the outline of the corral and put the glasses to his face. The wagon had been moved through the big door to the front side of the barn. He could see the outline with two horses hitched to the front.

"Yep, the run is tonight,” he mumbled under his breath. He headed back to his machine, hopped onto the seat, turned the ignition, flipped on the lights and headed toward the back path. Hawkman soon jockeyed upon the road and drove until he came to the padlocked gate. He debated whether to hide his four-wheeler in the brush nearby, and hoof it, or go farther. Pushing his luck at being spotted, he decided to steer around the gate and conceal the machine closer to where he figured Jeb would bring the buckboard onto the trail.

Turning off the lights, he geared the machine down so it wouldn't be so noisy. His sight adjusted to the night and he could see his way without any danger. Approaching the area he suspected Jeb would use, he searched for a spot to hide the four-wheeler and soon found a small cluster of trees surrounded by high brush. When he pulled into the thicket, he could hear the scurrying of animals and the flight of birds overhead. He'd definitely interrupted a nighttime den. Shutting down the engine, he dismounted and crept toward the path which led to the Hutchinsons’ place. He reasoned the sound of the horses and wagon would carry a distance in the quiet night. Searching for a good place to conceal himself, he soon discovered a gully surrounded by shrubs. He slid into it and hunkered down. It wasn't long before he realized the ground underneath his boots was soggy. Obviously, an underground stream flowed directly under his feet.

The same moment he climbed out of the mire, he heard a whinny. He quickly looked around and dove behind a fallen log. Jerking off his hat, he put it underneath him and kept his head down. It seemed forever before he heard the grunts of the horses and the thud of the wagon as the heavy cart bumped over the side ridge of the road. He finally peeked over the large oak branch and could see the silhouette of Jeb poised on the bench, reins in hand.

Thankful he didn't see Earl, he jammed his hat onto his head, then jogged after the wagon. When he got close enough to grab the tailgate, he swung himself into the back. Happy to see the tarp tossed over the moonshine containers, he quickly slid under it. Knowing when to get out could be a big problem. He had no idea if Jeb planned on going right to the place of business, or if the customer would meet him on the road. The time he needed to jump out of the wagon depended on the situation.

Hawkman felt his bones being jarred to the core on the hard floor of the buckboard. He peered out from underneath the cover and tried to see in front of the wagon between Jeb's legs and the butt of the rifle perched at his side. So far, the man had shown no indication of slowing down. Suddenly, up ahead, Hawkman noticed car lights blinking off and on. He edged to the back of the buckboard, slithered over the back side, dropped to the ground and rolled to the side of the road. Hunkering down, he ran alongside the edge, staying a few feet behind the wagon.

When Jeb slowed, and stopped the team of horses, Hawkman slipped behind some bushes and watched a man with a flashlight approach the buckboard. Jeb stepped down from the bench seat onto the tongue, then hopped to the ground. The two men talked for a few minutes, then walked to the side of the cart where Jeb yanked back the tarp. The other man shined the beam from the lantern onto the stash of rotgut.

"I'd like a taste,” he said.

Jeb reached down and untied a metal cup from the neck of one of the large containers. He then unscrewed the lid and tilted the jar. When he handed him the cup, the man said, “You first."

"Sure.” Jeb downed several gulps, then handed it to the prospective customer, and watched his face as he took a sip.

"Whoohoo, this is good stuff."

"Glad you like my brew,” Jeb said.

"I'll take the whole batch."

The man handed Jeb a roll of cash, and the two men loaded the white lightning into the trunk of the car.

"If this goes over as well as I think it will, we'll be doing business on a regular basis,” the man said, as they shook hands and he got into his car. Turning around, he sped down the dirt road, heading for Hornbrook.

Hawkman didn't recognize the man, and wondered where his business was located. He'd do a search on the bars in the immediate area on the computer and see if he could find photos of the owners. He'd know the man if he ever saw him again. It wouldn't be hard to spot someone who weighed over two hundred pounds, and stood only about five foot, six inches tall, with a bald head that glistened by the light of his own flashlight,

Jeb hopped back on the seat of the buckboard, picked up the reins, and gave a sharp yelp as the horses moved down the road to a wide spot where he turned the wagon around and headed toward home.

Hawkman followed the carriage until Jeb reached a heavily darkened area with trees

over-shadowing the road, then he grabbed the tailgate and swung his legs up, slipping into the interior with little noise. He pulled the tarp over himself, figuring if Jeb happened to glance back, he'd be hidden.

When he felt the wagon turn, bumping over the dirt brim of the road, he bailed out the rear, landed on his feet, then clambered behind the trunk of a large oak tree. He watched the wagon move ahead before he hightailed it through the forest to the hidden four-wheeler.

Driving back to the lake, he came to the conclusion that following the wagon appeared less dangerous than pursuing someone in a car. He doubted Jeb had any inkling he'd had a passenger in the bed of his buggy. Hawkman rounded the corner of his driveway and parked in the lean-to. Jennifer met him at the door.

"I'm so relieved to see you home safe,” she said, giving him a hug. “Tell me what happened."

He stepped inside, removed his gloves and paraphernalia he had in his pockets, placed them on the kitchen counter, then selected a beer from the refrigerator. “Want a beer?"

"No, I already have a gin and tonic made."

They moved to their matching chairs, and Miss Marple jumped into her mistress’ lap.

Jennifer swiveled her chair so it faced Hawkman. “Start at the beginning."

He gazed at the ceiling. “I stepped out the door, got on my four-wheeler..."

She reached over and smacked his knee. “Not back that far."

Chuckling, he related the saga from the point where he'd checked the Hutchinson's place, then how he'd gone to the road and waited, until the moment he ended up home.

Her gaze locked onto his face, she barely blinked, listening to the tale. “You really took a chance hiding in the wagon."

"I thought it might be dangerous, but it worked out to be safer than if I'd followed him in a vehicle. He had no lights, didn't even carry a flashlight. The other guy had the lantern."

"Just one man showed up? Did you recognize him?"

"Yes, and no. Jeb didn't have a huge batch. At least, not as much as he could make in that huge still. He might have another lot ready to go for tomorrow or he's feeling his way into the market. This man definitely liked the moonshine, and bought the load. I'm going to do some research and see if I can find this guy."

"How could you see him in the dark?"

"The beam of the flashlight hit him in the face several times. His bald head glistened, and he wobbled when he walked. I'd say for a short man, he must have weighed two hundred pounds."

"Under what brand name would they use to serve the whiskey?"

"More than likely they'd classify it as the house brand. A few would know it to be special and pass the word to try it. The news would get out that it had a kick and people would flock to the bar to try it. The owner could make a killing."

Jennifer sighed. “Along with Jeb, as he builds a reputation for the best hooch around."

"Yep. Time to talk to the detective."

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Jennifer bit her lower lip, and unconsciously stroked Miss Marple's furry back. “Can't you wait awhile? You're not even sure he peddled it to a place of business."

"It doesn't matter; I saw money exchange hands. He's sold the white lightning to someone and it's illegal.” He leaned forward. “You act like you want me to skirt the law."

She sighed and leaned back in the chair. “I don't know what I want. I'm just worried about Beth and the children. What will they do if Jeb is returned to jail?"

"The same as they did the last time he was incarcerated.” He shook his head. “You're talking with emotion and not using your head. Think about what you're saying."

"You're right. I keep seeing Randy's and Marcy's faces in front of me. I guess it's the mother instinct."

"For some reason you've been infatuated with them since the first day you met the family."

Jennifer put Miss Marple on the floor and turned toward Hawkman. “It might be because I've never been around destitute people. When I see the barren way they have to live, it tugs at my heart strings."

"Honey, I admire your thinking. However, there's nothing you can personally do about it. They've chosen their way of life."

"I know everything you say is true. It just bothers me to see innocent children brought up in that type of environment."

"You have a big heart, but I'd like you to try to push the Hutchinsons out of it. There's nothing good going on in their household, and you're only putting yourself in a position to get hurt."

Jennifer nodded, and glanced up at him with tears rimming her eyes. “I'll try, but I can't guarantee I'll be successful."