Angels in Disguise (18 page)

"Yes."

Then she went to her grandmother. “Can he sleep in my room?"

"Of course, darling. There's plenty of space to move in the daybed."

Tiffany smiled. “It's really comfortable, Dad. I've slept on it before."

He took her in his arms and gave her a hug. “It'll be fine."

Hawkman removed the CD from the computer. “While I'm here, I might as well talk to you about another problem. Then we can cancel tomorrow's visit."

"Sure,” Delia said.

He turned toward Tiffany. “I understand you made several phone calls to Tulip Withers when you were at the other house. Is this true?"

"Yeah. Mom would leave me money to go eat and when Grandma came to pick me up, she figured I'd get a better meal if she took me to Mom's Cafe. So before we left, I'd call Tulip and find out what specials they had for the day, because some things I didn't like."

Delia smiled. “Carlotta left food money for Tiffany all the time and I didn't think it a healthy habit for her to have a hamburger and french fries so often. But I didn't dare go against Carlotta's wishes, so we worked out this method. Tiffany would at least get a well-balanced meal a couple of times a week.” She laughed and winked at her granddaughter. “But when they didn't have what she liked, off we went to the hamburger joint."

"You hadn't told me this before,” Hawkman said. “And I'd like to impress upon all of you to inform me about everything, even if it seems minute and insignificant. It might lead to a clue toward finding Carlotta."

Tiffany looked down at the floor and scuffed her feet against the carpet. “You're probably going to find my Mom buried in a dirt grave.” She threw her arms around Paul, buried her head in his neck and sobbed. “I'm sorry, Dad, but I think Mom's dead."

Paul squeezed his eyes shut and held his daughter.

When Hawkman left Delia's, he circled the block and cruised through the surrounding areas. Figuring most people would be home from work and errand running, he made a mental note of the cars parked on the streets. Not seeing anything suspicious, he turned toward home.

Jennifer reacted in disgust upon hearing the recording. “That's horrible. Who would threaten a child?"

"A very sick person."

"How did Tiffany react to the news?"

"Very grown-up. But she believes her mother's dead. I think she came to the realization sooner than her father."

Jennifer sat down in the chair and hugged her knees. “Children seem to have an uncanny sense about such things. I hope being threatened doesn't leave a lasting impression and make her frightened of people forever."

Hawkman slumped down on the ottoman in front of her. “I think Delia and Paul are aware of the dangers and will watch her closely. If necessary they can seek professional help. I felt she needed the truth, regardless of the circumstances."

"I agree with you. At least she won't feel betrayed by the only two people she has left. My heart tells me she fears her mother let her down and now she's dead, so no restoration can be made.” She rested her chin on her knees. “Do you have any idea who might have left such a message?"

"None. I feel like I've slid back to square one."

She reached over and touched his shoulder. “Honey, I can tell you've got me on your mind too much. You need to think clearly and it's interfering."

He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “It's a little hard not to think about what you're going through."

"Granted, it's hard. But lay it aside.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, then leaned back in the chair. “You know, there's the chance you're searching in the wrong direction. Go back over every soul you've talked to about Carlotta. That person could be the key."

"You're right. Tomorrow, I'm going to the office and concentrate on the file. I've felt all along I've missed an important factor, but haven't been able to put my finger on it."

"It's because your mind is cluttered."

He patted her knee and stood. “I think I'll hit the sack. How are you doing?"

"Tired, but okay. I'm right behind you."

Helping her out of the chair, he put an arm around her and they headed for the bedroom. “Another day, then we'll find out what the oncologist has to say."

She nodded and forced a smile.

The next morning, Hawkman sat at his desk in his Medford office with Carlotta's file spread out on the surface. He'd decided to go over each tidbit and reevaluate what needed further investigation. Several hours passed as he read through his notes of observations, questions and answers of everyone he'd interrogated. He finally leaned back, stretched his arms, flipped up his eye-patch and rubbed his eyes. Adjusting the patch back over his eye, he got up and poured himself a cup of coffee, then sat down and picked up the phone. He needed to touch base with Jessica Phillips, the lawyer Carlotta had hired to handle the divorce.

"Jessica Phillips, please."

"May I ask who's calling?"

"Tom Casey, private investigator."

After a few moments, a female voice came across the line. “Hello, Mr. Casey. Good hearing from you again. I hope you have some good news about Carlotta."

"Wish it were true, but I wanted to check and see if by some chance you've had any communication with her."

"I'm sorry. Not a word, telephone or otherwise."

"Thank you. That's all I needed to know."

Hawkman hung up with a sigh and again glanced at the papers strewn across his desk. Then his gaze fell upon a notation he'd made in the margin of one of the sheets of notes. He raised his brows, grabbed a pencil and circled the words. Hoping to catch Ms. Withers before she left for work, he jumped up, ran his fingers through his hair, plopped on his cowboy hat and left the office.

When he reached her apartment, he saw her through the same routine of peeking out the window before letting him in.

"Hello, Mr. Casey.” She motioned toward the living room. “Have a seat. Your visits are getting rather frequent. Is there a reason?"

"I'm investigating a missing person and have to cover every avenue."

"Carlotta's been gone a long time without any word. I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach she's met with foul play."

Hawkman sat down on the same hardback chair. “Do you know for a fact she hasn't contacted anyone?"

Tulip shrugged. “Well, no. But I have this impression you think I know where she is."

"Do you?"

She wrinkled her forehead into a frown. “No."

"Tell me a little bit about your family."

"Why my family?” she scowled, sitting down on the couch.

"Do you have brothers or sisters?"

"No. I'm an only child."

"Your father mentioned your mother died. How long has she been gone?"

"About eight years."

"Why didn't you leave the area, since you weren't going into business with your father?"

"Because he wanted me to stay in town. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to see me much, as he wouldn't close the shop any length of time for a visit."

"Sounds a little selfish."

Her gaze drifted to the floor. “Dad's very possessive."

"Where does he live?"

"In a beautiful home on the west side, near the foothills. He wanted me to share it with him, but I knew I couldn't stand to be under the same roof with all his ranting."

"Oh? What does he carry on about?"

"Me, mostly. How I've screwed up my life. Never got married. That sort of thing."

"Do you see him often?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Yes, at least two or three times a week. He stops by after I get off work."

"What does he do during the time he closes shop and you get off?"

"He cuts up the meat, then scrubs that butcher shop down until it sparkles. No germ could live there when he's through. It takes him several hours to prepare for the following day. If he finishes early, he comes by the cafe and has a cup of coffee."

"You sound as if you resent his attention."

"It gets a bit old,” she said, bitterly. “I wish he'd leave me alone and get a life of his own."

Hawkman noticed she had her hands clenched tightly in her lap. “Does your dad know the Ryan family?"

She rolled her eyes. “He's lived here most of his life and knows everyone in this town.” Then she glared at Hawkman. “Why are you asking me such questions? Do you think my Dad had something to do with Carlotta's disappearance?"

He placed his hands on his thighs. “I'm doing my job."

Tulip stood and put her hands on her hips. “Well, I think you're way out of line and I'm not going to answer any more."

"That's your prerogative, but the police are getting involved and they will probably question you and your dad."

A flash of fear crossed her face. “So be it."

Hawkman arose and crossed the room to the front door. With his hand on the knob, he turned back to Tulip. “You might even consider getting a lawyer."

Her mouth dropped open. “Am I a suspect?"

"Everyone who knew Carlotta is under investigation. The woman's been missing for over two weeks and it doesn't look good."

Hawkman left the apartment and climbed into his vehicle as she watched from the entry.

Tulip stood in the doorway for several minutes after Hawkman left the premises, the questions referring to her father ricocheting through her mind. She slowly closed and locked the door, then headed for the phone.

Her fingers trembling, she punched in the number. “Dad, I need to talk to you as soon as possible."

When Hawkman drove out of the apartment complex, he figured Tulip would head straight for the phone. Her show of fear gave him reason to question Mr. Withers.

He headed downtown, found a parking spot in front of the butcher shop and meandered inside. There were a couple of customers at the counter and Hank raised his head and smiled.

"Be right with you."

"No hurry, take your time,” Hawkman said, watching the man's calm demeanor as he wrapped the peoples’ choices in white paper. The area finally cleared and Hank wiped his hands on a towel hanging off the counter.

"Now, what can I get you?"

"Nothing today. I want to talk to you about Carlotta Ryan."

"Oh. Tulip told me the girl has been missing for some time now."

"Yes. How well did you know her?"

"I didn't see much of the little lady, but her husband, Paul, bought meat here often. Gave me the feeling he did most of the cooking in the backyard.” He chuckled. “You can pretty well tell by the cuts they buy. He's a nice guy. I've always liked him."

"Did you ever meet Carlotta?"

He waddled his head. “Oh, sure. She grew up here. I know about every soul in this town. Pretty sad when her folks were killed in a horrible head-on car crash. Some drunk clobbered them."

"Yes, terrible tragedy. What do you think of Carlotta?"

Hank shrugged. “Not sure what you mean. I don't know her well, but run across her here and there in town. In high school, she appeared to be, what would you call it, sort of an air head? Tulip ran with the same gang of kids. But how Carlotta ever latched onto Paul Ryan, I'll never know. He could have done so much better."

"What do you mean?"

"Tulip tells me Carlotta kicked him out of the house. Stupid move if you ask me. Wonder what she thought that would accomplish? Plenty of women in this town would give their eye teeth for his attention.” He pulled a paper towel from a roll hanging on the wall, sprayed the counter with ammonia and wiped it down. Stopping in the middle of a swipe, he peered at Hawkman and let out a sigh. “How I'd love to have that pretty little Tiffany as my granddaughter. Looks like I'll never be a grandpa. Tulip has no prospects for marriage and looks like she's going to be an old maid. And her child bearing years are almost over."

"I've heard she's always had a crush on Paul Ryan."

Withers nodded. “Yep and I tried to encourage her to fix herself up. Put on a little make-up and do something with her mane. She has pretty hair, but never does anything to it. Just braids it and let's it hang. That won't catch a man.” He sighed and threw the debris into a bag hanging on the counter edge.

"Do you know Delia Ryan?

"Oh, yeah, she's been a regular customer for years. Fine woman.” He laughed. “Except for her attraction to fantasy and horror books. She does have some strange furnishings in her house. It would give me nightmares to wake up and see some of those statutes or pictures staring me in the face."

"So, you've been in her house?"

Hank rubbed a hand over his chin. “Yeah, being we've both been widowed, I tried to court her some years back. Didn't work. I'm not her type, and the truth be known, she's too independent for me."

"You like to have control?"

"I guess you'd say I like to have some say in how my household's run. But that woman is in full command and won't tolerate interference. She has Paul under her fingertips and I think that's one of the reason Carlotta kicked him out. She didn't like the competition."

"That's an interesting perspective. What gave you such an idea?"

Hank moved down the counter and checked his meat supply. “Guess by some of the things Tulip told me. Delia was very much against the marriage from the beginning. But Paul bucked her and the wedding took place. Carlotta gave birth to Tiffany exactly nine months later so they say. So you can come to your own conclusion there."

"Did Tulip ever mention how Carlotta and Paul got along?"

"She said they fought a lot, and thought the woman had lost her mind when she told him to get out. Tulip tried to talk her out of taking such a drastic move, but Carlotta said she'd fallen out of love and wanted a divorce."

"Is there another man involved?"

"I don't rightly know. But it's possible. She may have run off with some loner and you may never find her."

"You think she'd just up and leave Tiffany without so much as a word?"

"Hard to say. To hear Tulip talk about the situation, Carlotta seemed more interested in her own life rather than her daughter's. She had the child dress like a teenager instead of letting her grow up in her own time."