Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14] (20 page)

Laughing, he jumped into the Cruiser and headed for Medford. He knew the taverns would prepare for their nightly crowds a few hours before opening. Not sure what time that might be, he'd just drive by the pubs. Maybe he'd get a glimpse of the owners.

Knowing the location of ‘The Hut', since it'd been there for years, he decided to go by there first. It stood in the middle of a huge lot on the outskirts of Yreka. Its parking lot of two rows extended all the way around the building. He pulled in and circled the structure. As he drove toward the back, he saw one of the cars he recognized from Jeb's hooch run, parked at the back entrance with the trunk open. They were wasting no time to get the brew to the customers.

He drove out of the area and then to the side of the road and programmed “The Big Mug's” address into his GPS. This bar happened to be on the other end of town. When he finally reached it, he found it to be more of an upper class establishment. Fancy door at the entry, professional signs in the windows, also parking in front, on each side and surrounded by a tall redwood fence. He circled the place and found it locked up tight. Searching for a sign giving the hours of business, he spotted it on the front porch stating, “Open-5PM until 2AM". He'd stop later, and see if this Moss Atkins was the man he'd seen at Jeb's Saturday night.

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Jennifer paced the floor. She needed an excuse to go see Beth, but felt offering gifts each time appeared more like charity, than friendship. She didn't want Beth to think she felt sorry for the family, which, in fact, she did, but didn't think it good to expose her feelings.

She finally came upon an idea, shrugged into a hoody, and left the house. When she pulled up to the cabin, Randy ran to her vehicle, and jumped on the running board by her window.

"Hi, Mrs. Casey."

"Hello, Randy, it looks like you're almost healed."

"I think I am. A couple of stitches fell out, so that tells me the scar is almost well."

"Yes, that's a good indicator."

"You come to see Mom?"

"I came to visit all of you. How is everyone?"

Randy ducked his head. “Okay. Mom and Dad argue a lot."

"That happens, I don't think it's anything to worry about."

"Do you and Mr. Casey fuss at each other?"

She smiled. “Sometimes."

He jumped down to the ground. “I'll tell Mom you're here."

"Okay,” Jennifer said, as she climbed out of the Ford.

Beth met her at the door. “Come in. Good to see you. What brings you to our humble abode today?"

"I'm going to town either this afternoon, or tomorrow morning, and thought I'd check to see if you needed anything.” Jennifer immediately headed for the crib. When she approached, Marcy gurgled with glee. “You are so cute and growing like a weed."

Beth walked to one of her cabinets and removed a small jar. She pulled out a couple of dollars, and handed it to Jennifer. “If you'd pick up a box of baby cereal, I'd appreciate it. I want to start Marcy on a little bit at night, so maybe she'd sleep longer in the morning."

"No problem. What kind?” Jennifer asked, stowing the bills in her fanny pack.

"Rice would be fine. I'm in no hurry, so you needn't rush to get it to me."

Jennifer saw an opening and decided to ask Beth a pointed question. “How in the world did you survive while Jeb was in jail?"

She shot a sharp look at Jennifer, then turned away. “I managed."

"Randy told me he'd attended school at one time. Did you live in a town?"

"Yes."

Jennifer felt uncomfortable, as Beth's answers were terse and short. She figured there would be no information given. “I hope you plan to enroll the boys in school next year. They could ride their bikes to our place, catch the school bus, then ride home when they were dropped off after classes."

"If we're still here, I'll for sure enroll Randy. Not sure if Earl will go."

Jennifer studied Beth for a moment. “What do you mean, ‘If you're still here'?"

Beth shrugged. “One never knows."

"Regardless, try to talk Earl into finishing his education. It would help him in later life to at least have a high school diploma."

"I know and I'll definitely try, but it will be between him and his father."

Jennifer headed for the door. “I better get on my way. I'll bring the cereal in a couple of days."

"At the rate Randy is improving, I could send him down on his bike."

"If he's up to it, that will be fine. I'll talk to you soon,” she said, stepping out the door.

Driving home, Jennifer had the distinct feeling Beth had given her the brushoff. She'd definitely not gotten any information, and the look she'd given her made her shrink inside. The woman knew when someone tried to probe where they didn't belong, and immediately put up her guard.

Beth seemed distant and very private, not like other women Jennifer knew, who were eager to share their private lives. Of course, the possibility existed she had something to hide. Jennifer felt like Beth would never take her into her confidence and she'd never find out the secrets the woman held within her heart, other than by sheer accident.

When Jennifer reached home, she didn't feel like going to town; it could wait until tomorrow. Instead, she went to her chair. Miss Marple hopped into her lap, then Jennifer swiveled around and stared out the window over the lake as she habitually ran her hand down her pet's back.

In his Medford office, Hawkman pushed back his chair, yawned and stretched his arms above his head. He'd rather be out in the field, than working over books, but he'd found out you do both when you become a private investigator. He had several cases pending, but didn't want to take on much more right now, not until he got a handle on the Hutchinson case. He glanced at the computer clock, and decided to wrap it up, then take a ride over to ‘The Big Mug'. The outside appearance of the establishment made him very curious about the interior, so a beer might just be in order, or possibly, the house drink.

He tacked things up, grabbed his briefcase, shoved on his hat and left. While driving through town, he thought about Jennifer and wondered if she'd had any luck with Beth. He'd tried to warn her not to expect much, but hoped he'd be surprised.

When he reached the tavern, cars were already parked in the lot. He took an empty space and ambled toward the fancy front entry. He pulled the heavy door open, and stepped into a dimly lit foyer. A large room at his left appeared to be a dining room: soft lighting, with large round tables covered with white tablecloths, each set with glassware, utensils and a small vase with a single rose gracing the center. The area to his right revealed the cocktail lounge. A long oak bar followed the wall down one side and across the end of the room. The closed curtain on a stage filled the other side of the chamber. Small square tables lined the small dance floor.

Hawkman strolled into the bar, and hoisted himself onto one of the tall stools next to another patron. The bartender arrived within seconds.

"What can I get you, sir?"

"How about the house liquor?"

"Coming right up."

Hawkman turned to the man next to him. “This is a fancy place. I've never been here."

"It's fairly new,” the fellow said. “I bring my wife occasionally for dinner."

"Do they serve good food?"

"Excellent, but pricey."

"Who owns this establishment?"

"Moss Atkins.” The man glanced around. “He was here just a few minutes ago. I imagine he'll be back shortly. He runs a tight ship."

"I've never heard the name. Has he lived in the area long?"

"About three years. He bought the property and built this place in less than ten months."

"Where does he hail from?"

"Oregon."

"I'd like to meet him.” About that time, the barkeeper set Hawkman's drink before him, and he took a swig. “Whoa, that's good stuff.” He knew exactly where it'd come from.

"Oh, there's Moss,” said his drinking buddy. He gestured at Atkins.

"By the way, my name's Tom.

"I'm Cliff."

The two men shook hands before Moss Atkins had a chance to get to them, due to being stopped several times on the way. When he finally stood in front of them with his bald head glistening under the lights, and his short barrel shaped body, Hawkman knew immediately, this man had bought Jeb's hooch on Saturday night. The thing he hadn't been able to see that evening were pockmarks that riddled the man's face.

Cliff introduced Moss to Hawkman, and they shook hands.

"Great place you have here."

"Thank you. Glad to have you as a customer. Hope you come in often."

Hawkman raised the mug. “Man, this is good stuff you serve as the house brand. Where'd you get it?"

Atkins threw back his head. “Trade secret. Have another on the house."

Hawkman grinned. “I think I'll do that. Thank you."

The bartender brought over another round for Cliff and Hawkman.

Hawkman scooted the mug in front of Cliff. “I've got a drive ahead of me, so I better not have any more. Pleasure meeting you. Have a good night."

After he left the place, it made him wonder why an owner would take the chance to buy moonshine with such an expensive looking establishment. Maybe he was losing money and hoped to get more customers with the rotgut.

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Driving home, Hawkman didn't even tune his radio to one of his favorite talk show hosts. Instead, his thoughts seemed focused on the Hutchinsons. If it weren't for Jennifer's attachment to the family, he wouldn't have delayed calling in the law officers. Moonshine, mostly brewed in the Appalachians, rarely emerged in this part of the country. He had a feeling Jeb's dad got him into bootlegging, since the still was ready and available when the Hutchinsons moved in.

Impatient to get home, he thought about pushing the accelerator a bit, but didn't want to take the chance of hitting a deer. Good thing his good sense won out, because when he made a sharp curve, a doe jumped out of the trees onto the pavement. She seemed hypnotized by his headlights and stood in the middle of the road, staring at the vehicle. Hawkman made a screeching stop, inches from the animal. She quickly took off and he exhaled a whistle in relief. He didn't need a dead deer on his hands, or a huge auto repair bill. Going slowly, and keeping a lookout for a fawn, he continued toward the lake.

He finally arrived home, and pulled into the garage. Walking into the kitchen, he noted Jennifer sat in her chair with Miss Marple on her lap, and the television going.

"Hey, why the sullen expression?"

"I'm not happy tonight."

"Oh, why not? Tell me about it,” he said, placing his valise on the counter, and grabbing a beer from the refrigerator. He joined her in the living room.

She related her experience with Beth. “I think in so many words, she told me to get lost."

"I wouldn't go so far as to say she didn't want to see you anymore. It sounds more like her telling you not to tread into her private life."

"Maybe, but what are friends for if you can't confide in them?” she asked.

"Honey, I've tried and tried to tell you, Beth doesn't get close to anyone, not even her husband or kids. She's a very distant person, and will only let you in on what might help her in life."

"I'm beginning to see it now. Don't worry, I'll live through it. Enough about my day, how'd yours go?"

He told her about seeing one of the cars that picked up the liquor from last night unloading its stash behind The Hut. Then he continued about meeting Moss Atkins at his pub. “He's one ugly man, with a very pockmarked face. The tavern is really luxurious. I might even take you there for dinner one night."

She shook her head. “I don't think so. No way will I patronize a man who's contributing to the downfall of a family."

Hawkman raised a hand and slapped his thigh. “Nix that plan.” Then he told her about the man he'd met in the bar. “Cliff told me Atkins came from Oregon. I thought it interesting, because so did Tami. There's the possibility she and Moss knew each other."

Jennifer eyed him questionably. “Isn't that sort of far-fetched; Oregon's a big state."

He shrugged. “Maybe, but I'll look into anything that might give me a clue."

"Why worry about Tami, she's just the in-between. She could deny knowing any of them and no one could prove any different."

"Except Beth."

"You might have something there. She hates the woman.” Jennifer rose from her chair. “It's getting late. Have you eaten?"

"I had plenty of hors d'oeuvres at the tavern, so I'm not hungry."

"I'm hitting the sack."

"I'm right behind you."

Tuesday, Jennifer decided to go to town and do her weekly shopping. She'd get the rice cereal for Marcy, and if Randy didn't come to get it, she'd take it to Beth on Thursday. While driving into Yreka, thoughts of the Hutchinsons lay heavy on Jennifer's mind. She couldn't figure out why Beth had gotten so under her skin, like no other female acquaintance. Maybe because she tended to be so distant, or was it her American Indian heritage? Regardless, she didn't know how to cope with it; but deep in her heart, she knew the thought of an enduring friendship had ended.

Walking the aisles of the grocery store, Jennifer concentrated on her list and stood at one of the bins checking the bananas when her gaze drifted to the woman opposite her. She quickly closed her mouth before speaking. “Tami."

The woman looked up. “Pardon."

"Aren't you Tami?” Jennifer asked.

The woman dropped the apple in her hand. “No, my name's not Tami.” She abruptly turned and walked away.

Staring at the woman's back, Jennifer watched her exit the sliding doors. Why would Tami deny her identity? Jennifer felt rattled after the encounter. Not dilly-dallying like she sometimes did, she hurried through her shopping, and left.

Reaching home, Jennifer put away the groceries, then paced the floor. She knew the woman at the grocery store was Tami Spencer. No one could duplicate her looks. Why did she repudiate it? Did she recognize me? Jennifer wondered. Did she feel threatened?