Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14] (2 page)

Wrapped in a robe, Jennifer stood at the door, watching his endeavor. “What do you think occurred? You act like Pretty Girl's food and water could have been poisoned."

Hawkman walked back into the house shaking his head. “I don't know, but didn't want to take any chances."

"Did you see anyone out there?"

He nodded. “Yeah, a person taking off on a bike."

She put a hand to her mouth. “Could you tell who it was?"

"No. The silhouette looked too big to be Randy. However, nighttime can play tricks on your eyesight."

Jennifer pointed at the cabinet. “You better put the falcon's food into some sort of tight container in case it's contaminated. I sure don't want Miss Marple getting into it."

"You're right. I'm going to take it to my office tomorrow and see if I can detect any toxins in the food.” Hawkman placed the falcon's food into a zip plastic bag, slipped it into the jeans jacket he'd be wearing tomorrow, and buttoned the flap. He patted the pocket. “That should keep our nosey feline safe."

She took hold of Hawkman's arm. “If Randy came back, why would he want to scare Pretty Girl?"

"I doubt he figured she'd carry on so. He might have wanted to take her hunting, and found out I'd padlocked the cage. When he tried to force the door, then Pretty Girl let us know. Don't think she wants to be handled by anyone but us. If I'd left the door open, the boy would have discovered the wrath of a falcon."

"I'd hate to see him learn such a lesson, if he's the culprit.” She pulled Hawkman toward the bedroom. “Let's see if we can salvage the rest of the night. Working in the soil yesterday has made me sore all over."

"I'll try; can't say I'm going to get much sleep now."

Monday morning, Hawkman joined Jennifer in the kitchen for a cup of coffee. “I feel like I've been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. My eyes feel full of sand and my body's sluggish."

"I know the feeling."

"Has school dismissed yet for the summer?"

"No, I think they still have one or two more weeks. Why?"

"Think I'll stop by on my way to work, and see if Randy Hutchinson's enrolled."

"Remember, he could be home schooled. Many people participate in our area. They have a large group who meet once a month."

He frowned. “Hadn't thought of that. Still think I'll drop by; since I know Mrs. Simpson, don't think she'll mind my asking."

Jennifer set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. “Oh, she won't. You'll find her very accommodating."

He sat down at the kitchen bar and ate. “If you have a chance, ask around and see if anyone knows about this family."

"It's on my list. I'm attending the women's auxiliary this morning, and it will be a perfect place to gather any information."

"Yep, get a bunch of women together, and you're certain to find out any gossip, true or not."

Jennifer furrowed her brow and glared at her husband. “You act as if men don't gossip."

He glanced at her cautiously between bites. “Well, I didn't mean it quite that strong."

"Regardless, I'll see what I can find out."

"Thanks."

Hawkman got out of the house quickly, as he figured he'd overstepped his bounds. He journeyed up the road toward town, and pulled up the driveway leading to the small school's whitewashed building. No space appeared available, so he parked behind one of the cars he assumed wouldn't need to be moved, and hopped out of his vehicle. His timing seemed perfect, as about ten kids were outside in the small play area, running after balls or swinging on the one monkey bar set.

He found Mrs. Simpson behind the desk of the one-room school, grading papers. She'd been widowed many years ago, and had taken over the job of running the school shortly after the loss of her husband. Her appearance fit the typical schoolmarm: hair pulled back in a small bun, and a solid colored brown dress. She glanced up at Hawkman over the top of her rimmed reading glasses, and her firm mouth broke into a big grin.

"Oh, my goodness, Mr. Casey. It's been a long time since I talked with you. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” She quickly rose, and grabbed an adult size chair from near the wall and scooted it toward him. “Please have a seat."

"I won't take but a minute of your time. There's a young lad who stopped by my house. Says his name is Randy Hutchinson. He acted as if his family had only been in the area for a few months. Is he by any chance registered to attend here?"

She opened a ledger on her desk and ran a finger down the margin. “I didn't think I'd heard of him, but wanted to make sure. There are many families who are home schooling now, and unfortunately, I couldn't tell you which ones. It's really cut down on our enrollment."

"So you've never heard of this family?"

"No, I'm sorry I can't help you. Is there a problem?"

"I'm not sure. However, that's not your concern. Thank you for your help."

She stood and took his hand. “So good to see you. Please drop by more often. Maybe even bring your falcon for the children to see. You still have one, don't you?"

"Yes, I just might do that. I'll let you know first."

"Is Jennifer still writing mysteries? I hardly have time to read for pleasure with all the paper grading, and my eyes are not what they used to be."

Hawkman smiled. “Jennifer is still glued to her computer, compiling her stories."

"Give her my regards."

Hawkman left the school house when a loud bell rang, and the children filed back inside from the playground. He wondered, as he drove toward Medford, if pursuing this boy and his family would be worthwhile. So far, nothing bad had really happened, except the incident last night, which could have been no more than curiosity for a young lad from anywhere. Yet, something gnawed at Hawkman's gut, and he decided, when he got home from work, to venture up in the hills to see if he could find where they lived.

When he reached the office, the first thing he did was run some test on Pretty Girl's food. He found nothing indicating it had been tainted, and felt relieved.

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Hawkman remained in his office all day, going over the notes he needed for a court case coming up tomorrow. He didn't like testifying, but it came with the job. It also meant he'd have to wear a suit and tie, which always reminded him of his days in the Agency.

Clyde, owner of the doughnut shop below, had the ovens at full bore, and the aroma of delicious pastries wrapped around Hawkman's nose. Finally, when he couldn't stand the temptation any longer, he went down to the bakery.

The jingle of the bell on the entry door caused Clyde to look up, and a smile wrinkled the flour spattered face. “I wondered how long it would take before you arrived."

Hawkman grinned, as he noticed the dab of flour on the proprietor's nose, and his usual dark eyebrows were now white. “When you're baking, you must put your whole body and soul into the procedure."

Clyde laughed. “Yep, I love it."

"I can tell."

"What can I do for you?"

Hawkman made his choices, paid, and went back to the office. Pouring himself a hot cup of coffee, he munched on the goodies as he reviewed the case. He decided to leave a little early, as he wanted to make a run up into the hills before dark, and see if he could spot the cabin where Randy said they lived.

He unplugged the coffee pot, rinsed out his cup and placed the trash into a sack. Picking up his briefcase, he left the office, tossed the debris into the dumpster behind the building, and climbed into his vehicle. On the way home, he kept trying to picture the area west of his house where he might find a hidden cabin tucked into the trees. The only place he could figure would be near the old abandoned railroad tracks where supplies were brought in during the building of the Copco Dam back in the 1920s. Some of the workers might have thrown up a structure to stay protected from the elements and wild animals while the construction took place.

The back road, a shortcut to Highway 66, was narrow and overgrown with weeds, plus a locked gate across a private area kept people from using this route. He might have to use the four-wheeler, as he doubted he could get through the rugged terrain with his big SUV. Tonight might be a dry run, since he hadn't been up in the area since Sam, his son, went off to college.

His mind wandered back to those good times. Sam used to straddle the fender of the old truck with his gun, and as they drove along the road, he'd shoot ground or “digger” squirrels, as they called them. Hawkman chuckled out loud at the memories. Those were the fun days.

He finally drove over the bridge and wondered if Jennifer had talked with the women about this new family. Leaving the Land Cruiser in the driveway, he took his briefcase and went inside. Miss Marple sat on the ledge of the big window overlooking the lake. Her gaze seemed focused past the falcon, out to the dock where her mistress stood sweeping. This surprised Hawkman, as the breezes were still too nippy in May for Jennifer to enjoy fishing. He glanced out and watched her spread red pepper around the edges. Laughing, he poked his head out the sliding glass door.

"Are the otters messing up your fishing area again?"

"I wish they'd move these blasted little devils back to the ocean where they belong.” She stomped up the gangplank, placed the broom on the deck, and the pepper on the table, then came inside. “They've made such a mess. If we had a warm day, I'd want to go down and fish, but I don't like wading through their poop."

Hawkman gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Let's hope your remedy will keep those little varmints off your favorite place."

"I'm not sure anything will work, but it's worth a try."

They walked over to the kitchen bar together. “Did you have the meeting today with the women's firehouse auxiliary?"

"Yes, I have a few tidbits to tell you."

"Should I hear you out, or make a run to the area before dark?"

"I think you need to listen to this first."

He sat down at the kitchen bar. “Before I forget, Pretty Girl's food was clean. Now, I'm all ears."

"This mysterious family took up most of the discussion. We barely had time for the business part. It appears several of the members have encountered one or more of the Hutchinsons."

Hawkman raised a brow. “How many are there?"

"One of the women met Randy and described him as very charming. However, she couldn't get a straight answer out of the boy about where he lived, except in a cabin up in the hills. The same thing he told us.” Jennifer raised a hand. “Oh, and he asked her where Mr. Hawkman lived."

"Interesting."

"Then one of the other ladies saw an older boy, who appeared to be around sixteen. He took off when she came out of the house."

"What was he doing?"

"Hanging around her chicken coup."

"How does she know he belongs to the same family?"

"She doesn't, but she'd never seen him before."

"Doesn't mean a thing."

"Except, he headed west at breakneck speed."

"On foot?"

"No, on a bicycle."

"It's still hard to connect the two boys as possible brothers. With school out in certain parts of the country, he could have been a visitor."

Jennifer nodded. “True. However, several of the women have seen these two boys at one time or another riding around. A couple said they were missing a few things in their yards."

"Such as?"

"A small black pot on her front porch she used for plants. Another said she had her canvas wood carrier by the back door with a couple of logs in it to use the next day. When she went to get it the morning, she couldn't find it."

"It sounds like we might have a family of thieves among us."

Jennifer shrugged. “Hard to say. These women could be absentminded."

Hawkman grinned. “Very possibly."

"Anything else I might find of interest?"

"Yes. Ike and June were out taking a walk; they noticed a narrow plume of smoke coming through the trees to the West. They knew there were no homes in that area, but it looked like it came from a chimney. Worried about a forest fire, they kept an eye on it for several minutes, then it dissipated. They have no idea what caused it, and remain baffled."

"Wonder if they've seen it again?"

"She didn't mention they had."

Hawkman rose from the bar stool. “Looks like we have a mystery on our hands. I'd thought about taking the four-wheeler out and searching the area near the old railroad track, but I think I'll just take a dry run up the back area in the Land Cruiser and do a little scouting first."

"I'll go with you."

"Okay."

Jennifer threw on a lightweight jacket and they left in Hawkman's vehicle. As they drove westward, Hawkman told her about the memory he had of Sam on the fender of his truck shooting digger squirrels.

She laughed. “We had some fun times with Sam as he grew up."

The road became more difficult to maneuver and finally Hawkman stopped. “If we go much farther, I won't have a place to turn around. We're not far from the gate. Why don't we get out and hike to it? Maybe we'll see some signs of life."

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Hawkman and Jennifer trudged up the hill, each looking for signs of human activity on the ground or nearby.

Jennifer stopped to catch her breath. “It will be hard to see any bike trail, unless the boys use the same one. The weeds would pop right back up if they didn't go over the same spot each trip. I don't see a thing indicating people have walked or ridden up this way in a long time"

Hawkman stopped, and wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. “I think you're right. It depends on where the cabin is located. I figure it's near the old railroad tracks, and used to house the workers when they built the Copco Dam. Since the boys always head west, we're probably too far north."

"Kids will find the shortest route to wherever they're going."

"Let's head back. No sense in hiking any farther."

They trooped back down the hill to the SUV, and went home.

Jennifer bounded out of the vehicle. “I enjoyed our adventure, even though it didn't produce any answers. It's been a long time since I've been up that road. Maybe you can take the four-wheeler up the other way tomorrow."