Angels in Disguise (13 page)

Hawkman hurried around to the side where he'd found Delia and Tiffany trying to lure out the kitten. The small crawl space had been secured and fastened with a slide latch. Not wanting to disturb any finger prints, he used the butt of the flashlight to tap the bolt away from the fastener, then pried open the door with his pocketknife. Getting down on his haunches, he peered inside and ran the light beam across the dirt. He stopped when he spotted a square shadow behind a concrete pier. He moved the flashlight ray more slowly and could make out what looked like a suitcase. If his memory served him right, it matched the luggage he'd seen in Carlotta's closet.

He stood, and took his cell phone from his belt. “Hey, Williams, I think I need your evidence van over here at Carlotta Ryan's house. Not sure what I've discovered, but I don't want to touch anything until you've seen it.” Hawkman gave him the address, then sat on the front porch steps to wait. When the van arrived, followed by the detective's unmarked car, he stood and strolled toward the vehicles.

"So what'd you find?” Williams asked, climbing out.

"I don't think it's a body, as there's no odor. But it appears to be a matching suitcase of Carlotta's. Her husband assumed she'd taken it on her trip."

Hawkman directed them to the area and stood back watching as the crew dusted the outside wall for prints. “Doesn't look like there's anything readable on the outside,” one of the men said. He then flashed a large light under the house. He turned toward Hawkman. “Did you go crawl under here?"

"No."

"Good, because there appears to be drag marks. I'm going to take some impressions."

Another technician ventured under the house and made a wide berth around the plaster molds they'd poured. He managed to drag out the suitcase with a hooked apparatus so as not to disturb any evidence that might be on the bag. Once they had it outside the men dusted it with their powder.

"Looks like we have a few prints. You want me to open it?"

Detective Williams nodded. “Yes."

The man unzipped the cover and threw the lid back. Hawkman and Williams squatted on their haunches and studied the contents. The detective took his pen and moved the neatly packed clothes around.

"Looks like some of these items still have tags on them."

Hawkman eyed the new gown, along with several items he recognized on the buying list from the local store. “If my guess is right, most of these were purchased by Carlotta at one of the local shops before she disappeared. I have an itemized list in my files at the office. Want me to go get it?"

Williams shook his head. “Bring a copy by tomorrow. The crew will have to go through the things first. Then we'll check each item individually.” He stood, slid the pen back into his pocket, then instructed the technicians to bag and tag the suitcase. He turned his attention back to Hawkman. “What made you look under the house?"

Hawkman rose from his squatting position and told him about the nagging thought causing him to revisit the house. He couldn't put his finger on it until he did a walk-around the premises.

"So, what do you make of it?"

"It seems highly improbable for a woman to take a journey without her wardrobe."

The detective stared at him. “So you're thinking she's dead?"

"Unfortunately, my suspicions are heading that direction fast. If I find a body, you'll be the first to know."

"Thanks. Any suspects in mind?"

Hawkman kicked a pebble with the toe of his cowboy boot. “Several."

A few moments of silence elapsed. “Are you going to enlighten me?"

"Not yet. I need to narrow my list. If I need help though, I'll give you a call."

They walked toward their cars.

"What's your guess as to a motive for killing this young woman?” Williams asked.

"I think she asked for it. The people I've talked to indicate she's a spitfire. She didn't seek approval for any of her actions, even from her husband, as far as I've learned. Did what she wanted in spite of the consequences."

"Sounds like she might have made a few enemies."

"Yep. Now gotta figure out which one got mad enough to kill her."

Williams slid into driver's seat of his car. “I'll talk to you tomorrow and let you know if we find anything unusual on the suitcase."

"I'm going to be interested in those prints."

Hawkman drove away from the house and headed for Paul's apartment. He circled the complex but didn't see the Lexus in front of the unit. Figuring Paul had probably stopped by his mother's, he decided to wait and talk to him on Sunday. He didn't want to question the man in front of Delia.

Hawkman returned home and found Jennifer in good spirits. She'd prepared steak, a big salad, and baked potatoes for their dinner.

He folded his arms around her waist. “Boy, you sure know the way to a man's heart."

She grinned. “Your weakness for food showed up before we were ever married."

He looked surprised and poked a thumb into his chest. “Me? Like food?"

Waving him off, she laughed. “Sit down and enjoy. Tell me what you did today."

He hung his hat on a hook in the Hawkman corner, then plopped down at the kitchen bar and related the story of finding the suitcase under the house. “Remember me showing you the list of things Carlotta bought before Paul reported her missing?"

"Yes."

"I'm pretty sure those were the items packed in the bag. We'll know more when we compare them to the list I have."

She reached over and patted his arm. “Mighty ingenious of you to realize something amiss at the house."

"Thanks. Now to find out who hid the suitcase under there and why. I'm hoping Williams finds some readable prints on the handle or sides of the bag. They also took some plaster imprints of drag marks in the soil where it'd been scooted into position."

"How would that help?"

"Not sure, unless they find the print of some type of footwear they could trace and there's the possibility they could estimate the weight of the person."

"This whole scenario is sending shivers down my spine."

"Unfortunately, I'm thinking the same thing.” He finished the steak and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “By the way, I'm staying home Monday. I want to be here when the doctor calls. So don't try shoving me out the door, because I won't go."

She winked. “Okay."

Sunday morning, Hawkman made a quick call to Detective Williams, then took off for the Medford police station. He stopped by his office and picked up the list the clerk had given him at the clothing store. When he arrived at Williams’ office, he found one of the crew members he recognized from Carlotta's house, talking to the detective.

Williams motioned for Hawkman to come in. “Sorry I didn't introduce you last night, but this is Bill Rader, our top lab technician."

After they shook hands, Hawkman noticed the suitcase resting on a table to the side. “You guys find anything of interest?"

Bill scratched the back of his head and made a face. “Yeah, we found a couple of good prints on the handle and one on the metal running down to the wheels. We've run them through the system, but they don't match up with any on file. So, whoever hid this suitcase, doesn't have a record."

"What about those drag marks?"

"We found what we're assuming to be a knee print and were able to estimate the weight of the person to be anywhere from a hundred and thirty to two hundred pounds. We did find an interesting indentation that appeared to come from the toe of a shoe or boot.” Shrugging he continued. “Of course, none of those findings are conclusive and would sure as hell be hard to match."

"So we can eliminate a small child from shoving it under there?"

"Yeah, that's about the only thing it might prove."

The detective turned to Hawkman. “Think we could possibly get a print or two of Carlotta's at the house so we can eliminate her? And we're wondering if you could obtain prints of the family and from some of the suspects you have in mind?"

"Let me call Paul and see if he can meet us at the house. You could also get his prints while there.” Hawkman rubbed his chin. “Since Alfonso has a police record, his would have showed up on the search, so he can be crossed off the list. I certainly don't want the people I suspect to become suspicious, so I'll have to do a little scheming."

Williams grinned. “I doubt you'll have any problem."

"Have you seen enough to get involved in this case?"

The detective scratched his head. “Not yet, but I'm very interested."

Hawkman contacted Paul, explained they needed to dust for Carlotta's prints at the house and made arrangements to meet him there in an hour. When Hawkman, the detective, and the lab van arrived, Paul stood beside his car in the driveway. He dangled a key in front of Hawkman.

"I had an extra one made. This way you can get into the house anytime, as I might not always be available."

"Thanks,” Hawkman said, pocketing it. “Are you going to leave?"

"Do you need me for anything?"

"The detective would like to have your fingerprints too, so he can eliminate them."

Paul looked puzzled. “Eliminate from what?"

"I'm working on the possibility Carlotta might have been abducted. If so, we need the family's prints to distinguish them from any strange ones we might find in the house."

Paul's face turned ashen. “Mr. Casey, why didn't you tell me your suspicions?"

"I'm not sure of anything, and I have to explore every avenue. I've asked for this detective's expertise and the use of his lab."

Hawkman noticed beads of sweat popping out on Paul's brow. “Do you object to letting the police take your prints?"

His mouth twitched. “Uh, no, of course not. But it scares me to think someone might have taken her from the house. Especially with Tiffany so close. Have you found other evidence that might support this theory?"

"Like a struggle or blood?” Hawkman asked.

Paul gulped and nodded.

"No."

"I don't like the sound of all of this,” Paul muttered.

Williams walked by him and patted him on the shoulder. “Let's get inside, before your neighbors start giving us curious stares."

Bill Rader and his assistant followed them inside. “Where's the washer and dryer?” Bill asked.

Paul looked at him with a puzzled expression. “The washer?"

"Yes."

"Why would you be interested in it?"

"I'd imagine Mrs. Ryan usually did the laundry. We'd more than likely find a set of good prints on the detergent bottle or measuring cup. Even on the lid of the machine."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense."

"We'll check other areas of the house to make sure they match.” He gestured toward his aid. “Mike will take your prints now."

Bill crossed through the kitchen toward the laundry area, while the other technician opened his kit on the table. “If you'll step over here, Mr. Ryan, we'll get this out of the way."

Afterwards Paul wiped his fingers with an alcohol cloth. “Do you need me any longer?"

"No. You may leave,” Williams said. “But, we may want to talk to you later."

"Mr. Casey knows where to find me."

Hawkman accompanied Paul out to his car. “I understand Tulip Withers works in town at Mom's Cafe."

"Yeah. Why are you interested in her?"

"I'm contacting anyone who has known or talked to Carlotta in the past few months."

"She's worked there for years. Need directions?"

"No. I know where it is. Thanks."

When Hawkman strolled back inside, Williams was staring out the window as Paul drove away. “The man seems mighty nervous."

"He's scared his wife is dead,” Hawkman said.

"Has he told you this?"

"No, but I've observed it in his face and actions."

"You sure it's not guilt?"

Hawkman pushed back his cowboy hat with his finger. “I'm not positive about anything at this point.” He turned toward Mike. “Do you have an extra kit I could borrow. Left mine at home."

"Sure. There's one in the van. I'll get it."

The crew soon finished, and Hawkman locked up the house, then walked out to the vehicles with the detective. “I won't be at the office tomorrow, so I'll call you late afternoon. I'm going to see if I can't secure some prints tonight, but it might be a day or two before I can get them to you."

"No problem,” Williams said, as he climbed into the car.

Hawkman drove to Delia's house in hopes of finding her and Tiffany. He parked in front and carried the printing kit under his arm. Delia answered the door with a surprised expression.

"Well, hi. Didn't expect to see you today."

"Didn't have time to call. I've been over at Carlotta's house with the police."

She frowned. “That doesn't sound too good."

"We're fingerprinting the area in case someone abducted Carlotta. I want to rule out the family's prints since they could be all over the house. Especially Tiffany's. To do so, I need to get both your fingerprints on file."

"Sure, let me get her."

Hawkman left the house, a job completed with more ease than he expected.

He drove downtown, and turned off Main street where he found a parking spot near the front of Mom's Cafe. He dug into the bag of stuff he had behind the seat until he found the small duffle bag. Carrying it into the cafe, he slid into a booth, and picked up one of the menus stuck in a rack at the end of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Tulip wiping off one of the tables. She soon approached and gave him a weak smile.

"Hello, Mr. Casey. Fancy seeing you here."

"Ms. Withers, I didn't realize you worked at Mom's."

"Been here for years. What can I get for you today?"

"First off, I'd like a canned Pepsi and a glass of ice. Then give me a minute to glance over the menu."

She stuck her small tablet into the pocket of her uniform. “Sure. Be back in a moment."

Within a few minutes, she'd returned carrying the can of soda and glass of ice. “There you go. Had time to make your decision?"

"Yes. I'll go for the number five, braised chicken breast, mashed potatoes and vegetables."