Angels in Disguise (12 page)

He gave her a pat on the back. “You're almost finished."

She finally tossed the empty into the trash can. “Now I've got to dash to the bathroom before going in for the test."

When Jennifer returned to the registration area, an attendant led her to a big enclosed truck sitting in the parking lot. Hawkman followed and stood outside as they entered and closed the door. He trod up and down the sidewalk for close to an hour before she came out. Hurrying to her side, he put an arm around her shoulders. “How'd it go?"

"No big deal. I did feel a sensation of heat flash through my body. It really felt strange, but only lasted a minute or so."

"Did they mention what they saw?"

She shook her head as they ambled toward the SUV. “No, the technicians. said the radiologist would send the results to my doctor and he'd contact me. So I don't expect to hear anything until Monday. Probably late afternoon."

"Dang. We're on hold again."

"Yes, it does try us. But I have to remember I'm not the only patient in this hospital. Many in worse condition than me."

"You're right, but I'm selfish. As far as I'm concerned you're the only one."

She playfully tapped him on the cheek. “Hawkman, be nice."

Saturday morning found Hawkman restless and not able to keep his gaze off of Jennifer's every move. Even while reading the paper, he kept glancing over the top as she sat at her computer.

She finally let out a long sigh. “Why don't you go to the office? You're driving me crazy. I can't stand the idea of you not letting me out of your sight for the next two days."

He folded the paper and placed it on the coffee table. “I'm sorry, you're right. You're definitely on my mind. I have things I need to do and I'm sure working will help me keep from worrying."

"Please go do them,” she pleaded.

He grinned. “You're feeling okay?"

"I'm fine."

He went to the Hawkman corner, plopped on his hat, took his shoulder holster from the hook and placed it on the counter. Feeling his belt for his cell phone, he remembered he had it charging in his office and hurried back to retrieve it. When he returned, he glanced at Jennifer who had her gaze fixed on the computer monitor. “Okay, hon, I'm outta here. I'll see you this evening."

She raised a hand and waved. “Love ya."

He slipped his gun and holster under the driver's seat and backed out of the garage. On the way to Medford, Hawkman phoned Delia. “I spoke with Paul about my talking with Tiffany again. He said it would be fine. I wanted to check and see if she might be available this afternoon?"

"Yes. In fact, I think she'd welcome the visit."

"Would she go for me taking her to lunch?"

"She'd love it."

"Say I'll pick her up about twelve-thirty."

"Sounds great."

When Hawkman arrived at Delia's house, it relieved him to see Tiffany in jeans that hit her waist and a cute flowered tee-shirt that covered her middle.

She'd pulled her hair back in a pony tail with a little butterfly clip and didn't have on make-up. The child actually looked like a cute little ten year old.

"Where would you like to go eat?” he asked, as they walked toward the 4X4.

"McDonald's", she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Are you sure?” he asked, while opening the passenger side door. “I'd be more than happy to take you to a nice walk-in restaurant."

"I love their hamburgers and I don't get them very often."

He laughed. “McDonald's it is.” Then closed the door.

When they reached the fast-food restaurant, Hawkman pulled into the parking lot. “Do you want to go inside, or eat in the car?"

"Inside, maybe some of my friends are there and I want them to see me with the big man with the eye-patch. None of the kids believed me when I told them I knew a private investigator who looked like a cowboy and a pirate all wrapped into one."

Hawkman guffawed. “Okay, good enough.” She had a reason for her request, he thought, pulling into a parking space.

As they sat at the table, Tiffany eyed the room of people. “Darn, I don't see anyone I know."

"We'll eat slow and chat, maybe one of your friends will wander in."

"So what do you want to talk about?” she asked, taking a bite of french fries.

"Tell me about the day your mother disappeared after taking you to your grandmother's."

"Oh, Mom didn't take me over. When I got home from school, she'd already left. There was a note on the table telling me to call Grandma, because she didn't plan on coming home for several days."

Hawkman stared at her. “Really? Do you still have the note?"

She nodded through bites. “Yeah, it's at Grandma's in my jewelry box."

It took Hawkman a moment to digest what Tiffany had just told him. He'd never doubted Paul's word about Carlotta taking the child to her grandmother's. Did he intentionally lie? He took several bites of his hamburger before continuing. “Tell me a little about your mom."

Tiffany cocked her head. “Not much to tell. She didn't like me having kids over or me going to visit anyone at their house. I had the feeling Mom didn't like little people. The only reason she paid any attention to me was because I belonged to her. She hoped to make me more grown up, I guess. I really didn't like wearing make-up or showing my belly button. Made me feel funny. And none of my friends wore clothes like she wanted me to wear. But I did it because she thought they were great."

"What about your mom's buddies?"

"She doesn't have many friends."

"Doesn't she see Tulip often?"

Tiffany threw back her head, covering her mouth as she laughed. “Oh, the flower."

"Is that what you call her?"

"Yeah, more as a joke. Tulip's okay, but Mom calls her dowdy, because she doesn't know how to dress or fix her hair."

"Do they visit a lot?"

"I'm not sure what Mom does when I'm in school. But I do know when she has a fight with Dad, she invites the withered flower over just to aggravate him."

"Does your dad like Tulip?"

"He's always nice, but I think it's because he feels sorry for her. Mom said they'd all been friends since high school and Tulip always had a crush on my Dad"

"I guess he knows she likes him?"

Tiffany giggled. “It's pretty obvious. When she's around him, she really gushes."

"What do you mean?"

"She tells him what a wonderful man he is by making enough money so Mom and I can have anything we want. If she had a man like him, she'd be in heaven.” Tiffany laughed out loud again. “Tulip really carries on until it makes Mom sick."

Hawkman stifled a smile. “I'm surprised your dad puts up with it."

She made a funny face. “He just brushes it off."

"So, tell me how your mom has been these past few months. Did she ever yell at you?"

Tiffany wiped her mouth with a napkin and the corners of her mouth turned down into a pout. “Yeah, she got kinda mean just before she left."

"How?"

"One day she slapped me real hard and made me cry."

"Had you done something wrong?"

"I told her she'd been acting funny."

"And she hit you for saying so?"

"I guess. It's the only thing I could figure out."

"What do you mean by her acting funny?"

Tiffany's chin quivered. “Oh, like a drunk person. Almost falling into stuff. And she'd quit putting on her make-up or dressing up. She looked sick. I know she hurt her back real bad a long time ago and she told me the pills made her act strange. But that didn't make sense, because she'd healed."

Hawkman decided not to pursue the medication bit. He'd already gotten the picture. And Tiffany had figured out quite a bit on her own. No need for him to add wood to the fire. “Did you see your mother pack a suitcase?"

"No."

"Did she mention going on a trip?"

Tears welled in the youngster's eyes. “No."

He felt he better stay off that topic, too. It certainly didn't make the child happy to talk about it. “Tell me about Princess. How's she doing?"

"She's just fine.” Then her mouth broke into a big grin and she whispered, “Some of my friends just came in the door."

He straightened. “What should I do?"

"Nothing, just slurp on your soda."

Three little girls bounded to the table and stared at Hawkman.

Tiffany gestured toward him with a dainty flip of her hand. “This is Mr. Tom Casey, the private investigator I told you about."

"Nice meeting you, Mr. Casey,” they said in unison, then scurried off to their own table, whispering and giggling as they looked over their shoulders.

Tiffany's eyes glowed as she wadded up the food wrappers. “We can go now."

"How do you like staying with your grandmother?” Hawkman asked, as they drove back toward Delia's.

"It's fun. She's really sweet and we do a lot of neat stuff, plus, I get to see my Dad more often.” She ducked her head and a tear slid down her cheek. “But I miss my Mom. I think she's dead."

Hawkman yanked his head around. “What makes you think such a thing?"

She picked at a spot on her jeans. “Mostly because she hasn't called or sent me a postcard."

"Maybe she hasn't had time."

"We always promised, if we were gone from each other for more than two days, we'd be sure to call or write."

"I see. That's a good promise.” Hawkman felt her tension and decided to change the subject. “Would you mind if I borrowed the note your mom left. I'll make a duplicate of it and bring it back tomorrow."

She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Grandma's got a scanner. I can make a copy at her house."

"That's a great idea."

Hawkman parked in front and they strolled toward the front door making small talk. When they entered the house, Delia met them in the hallway.

"Well, now, where did you two eat lunch?"

"McDonald's,” Tiffany said, as she raced to her room.

Hawkman held up his hands and shrugged. “I offered to take her any place she wanted to go and that's what she chose."

Delia rolled her eyes and laughed. “I should have known. She loves that place.” Then she glanced toward the child's room. “What's she up to in such a hurry?"

"Tiffany told me her mother had left a note the day she went away telling her to call you when she got home from school. She's going to make a copy for me. Paul told me Carlotta dropped Tiffany off here."

Delia looked surprised. “Wonder where he got such an idea? I thought I told him I'd picked her up. Maybe I didn't, under the circumstances."

Tiffany came running back and handed Hawkman a sheet of paper. He glanced at it, then folded and stuck it into his pocket.

She turned to her grandmother, her big brown eyes twinkling. “We had a great time. Joanne, Kathy and Denise all came while we were there. They got to meet Mr. Casey.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Now, maybe they'll believe me."

Delia smiled. “Good. Did you thank Mr. Casey for taking you out?"

"Thank you, Mr. Casey. I enjoyed our lunch. I hope we can do it again soon."

"You're more than welcome,” he said, touching his hat. He turned to Delia. “Enjoyed the encounter with your granddaughter. She's a very bright and personable little lady."

She winked. “I think so too."

Delia stood at the front door, gnawing her lip as she watched Hawkman drive away. She wondered what Tiffany had told him about Carlotta. She decided to talk to Paul and clarify that she'd picked up Tiffany.

Closing the door, she headed toward her granddaughter's bedroom. “Sweetheart, can I see that note your mom left. You never showed it to me."

"Sure.” She jumped up from playing with Princess and snatched a crumbled piece of paper off the dresser. “Here it is.” After handing it to her, she dropped down onto her knees and moved a small ball on a string across the floor, then burst into giggles when the cat hunched and attacked it.

Delia sat down on the bed and smoothed out the sheet. She read in silence.

"Tiffany, Call Grandma to come and get you.

I'll be gone for several days.

Love, Mom"

—

She furrowed her brow. It didn't even look like Carlotta's handwriting.

Hawkman went to his office, reviewed the notes he'd taken on Carlotta's case, then added more about Tiffany and the one she'd copied from her mother. He circled Delia's, Paul's, Tulip's and Alfonso's names. He felt Paul hadn't leveled with him and now he had suspicions about Delia. Also, he'd chat with Tulip again, as she seemed more in the picture than he'd originally thought. Alfonso appeared a toss-up. Even though he felt it a coincidence the man lived in the same complex as Tulip, he didn't want to mark him off the list just yet.

Thumbing through Carlotta's diary, he saw many references to ‘the flower'. Tulip left the impression she and Carlotta only had occasional contact. But from the entries, it appeared they talked on the phone or saw each other at least once or twice a week, especially in the past two or three months. He wondered about a drug connection. He added a talk with Tulip to his priority list, along with Paul, since his story didn't jibe with his daughter's. But that could have been a misunderstanding with all the trauma involved. The circle tightened, but didn't come together like Hawkman wanted. Too many gaps.

He leaned back in his chair. His mind drifted to who might have killed Carlotta. So far no evidence indicated foul play. No body had been uncovered, but his gut told him this woman had been murdered. Hawkman figured it wouldn't be long before he'd need to pull Detective Williams into the investigation. He had several suspects in mind who had a motive. He felt the time had come to weed them out and find out which one actually got rid of Tiffany's mother and where they'd disposed of the corpse.

He decided to drive by Carlotta's house again before going home. Something about the place nagged at him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe walking around the premises would shake up his mind.

When he reached the cul-de-sac, the street lights lit up the area. He parked in the driveway and took the large flashlight from the satchel he had behind the seat. He ambled around one side of the house, then headed toward the back yard. Then it struck him like a swat between the eyes as he swung the light beam along the foundation. Normally crawl spaces going under houses were covered to keep out rodents, but on the day he rescued the cat, he remembered the opening had been wide open.