Angels in Disguise (21 page)

"What did she think of those visits?"

"Not much. She laughed about his attempts to be friendly and thought the old man wanted to date her mother, and found this rather comical. However, Tiffany didn't like his snide remarks, but figured he only made them to keep her mom interested."

Hawkman chuckled. “She's definitely intuitive."

"Nothing gets past her."

"Thanks, Paul, this information helps. I'll be talking with Tiffany this afternoon. I won't need to bring up anything about Mr. Withers."

"Okay, see you then."

After hanging up, Hawkman turned toward Jennifer at the computer, and told her about the butcher visiting Carlotta.

Her expression turned to disgust. “Because some old man has a little money, he gets the idea every young and beautiful thing is going to fall at his feet."

"I'm not sure he had courtship in mind."

Jennifer stared at him a few seconds. “You haven't told me everything, have you?"

"No, and not sure I'm quite ready to share my inner thoughts just yet."

She leaned forward and wiggled a finger at him. “You do this to me on every case."

"Yeah, but I usually end up telling you. Anyway, I've got to go into town and talk to Tiffany."

"Tiffany?"

He rose and plopped on his hat. “Yes, I'm going to ask her more questions about the purse. See if by chance there's any identifying mark which might lead me to believe the bag Tulip's carrying belongs to Carlotta."

Jennifer rose from her chair and followed him to the door. “I have a sneaky idea you suspect the Withers of something."

He turned on the step and shrugged. “Just doin’ my job."

She folded her arms across her chest. “I see."

Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he stepped off the porch and hurriedly headed for the garage. An hour an a half later he parked in front of Delia's house. Tiffany opened the door and her face lit up with a big smile.

"Hi, Mr. Casey. I feel so special. Grandma said you made an appointment to just talk to me."

He smiled. “You are very important, and I wanted to make sure I could see you, so I set up a specific time."

She giggled and curtsied. “Please come in. Have a seat in the living room and I'll get you a tall glass of ice tea."

Hawkman drifted toward the big overstuffed chair. “Sounds great."

Tiffany soon returned with a large plate of cookies and set them on the coffee table in front of Hawkman. Delia trailed behind carrying two large containers of liquid.

"Hello, Mr. Casey.” She examined the glasses in her hand. “Let's see, you ordered tea and Tiffany wanted soda."

"Thank you.” Hawkman said, taking a big swallow. “Very refreshing."

"If you'll excuse me, I have some things to do in the kitchen."

"Certainly."

Tiffany sat on the couch and pushed the platter of goodies toward him. “Grandma makes the most wonderful chocolate chip cookies.” She smacked her lips. “They're so delicious."

Hawkman picked up one and took a bite. “Yes, they're excellent."

She sat back and folded her hands in her lap. “Now what did you want to talk about?"

"Do you recall sometime ago at your house, I asked you to tell me what you noticed missing from your mother's room. Some of the items you mentioned were a couple of dresses, shoes and a black Gucci purse."

She nodded. “Yes, I remember."

Hawkman removed a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out on the table. “Here's a copy of a Gucci purse I printed off the internet. If I'm not mistaken, this is the handbag you described."

Her eyes grew big as she stared at the picture. “Yes, that's it exactly."

"You said you were with your mother when she bought the purse. Where did she buy it?"

"Elaine's Bouquet"

Hawkman leaned forward resting his arms on his thighs. “I want you to think real hard on this question. If we had ten identical purses lined up on a shelf how would you identify your mother's?"

"Can I touch them?"

"Yes, you can handle them and look on every side."

"Oh, then it's easy. On the back of the little gold tab that has ‘Gucci’ on it, mom took our dremel tool and etched her first and last initials."

"CR?"

"Yep."

"Okay, let's say she hadn't done that yet. If you could only look at the handbags without touching, but you could walk all around them. Is there any way you could tell hers from the rest?"

Tiffany closed her eyes in thought, then broke into a big smile and clapped her hands. “Yes."

"How?"

"One day, not long after Mom bought the purse, she had it on the kitchen table while she painted her nails. They weren't quite dry yet when the paper boy came to the door to be paid. She opened the clasp to get her billfold and smudged one of her nails. After she paid him, she realized there was a spot of red on the handle. It made her so mad. She took a cotton swab with some fingernail polish remover on it and dabbed it off, but it left this tiny white mark. Mom tried to hide the small dot with shoe polish, but it never stayed black.” Tiffany made a little circle with her fingers. “It was so tiny, you could hardly see it, and I asked her who would notice it on the inside of the strap. So she finally gave up trying to cover it and decided not to worry about it anymore."

Hawkman grinned. “You are something else, to remember all those little things."

Tiffany's expression turned solemn. “Have you found my mother's purse?"

He gazed at the child for a second. “I'm not sure. But you're like a little angel sent down to give me the clues I needed. I think you'd make a great detective."

Her eyes lit up. “Really? Why?"

"Because you're so observant. And detectives have to notice everything to be any good."

Tiffany crinkled up her nose. “I think I'd rather be a woman private investigator when I grow up.” She picked up Hawkman's half-empty glass and jumped up. “Can I get you some more tea?"

"No, thanks. I think you've told me everything I need to know. So, I'll let you have the rest of your day. By the way, where's Princess?"

"I told her she had to stay in my room while I had this important meeting. I'll go get her really fast. She'd like to see you."

Delia walked in about the time the child dashed toward her bedroom. “Is she okay?"

"Yes, she's getting Princess so I can say goodbye."

Tiffany dashed back into the room with the feline cradled in her arms. “I had to wake her. Guess she decided to nap while I took care of business."

Delia covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Smart cat."

Hawkman stayed a few more minutes and played with the kitten. “You've trained her well."

"Grandma showed me some tricks and we've had good luck with getting her to do what we want.” Tiffany cocked her head and looked up at Hawkman. “When can I go back to school? I'm getting awfully bored."

Hawkman reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “I'm sure you are. Maybe the middle of next week. I'll let your dad know. Right now I want you safe."

She scuffed a shoe on the carpet. “I know. Be sure and tell my Dad or Grandma as soon as you can. I miss my friends."

"I will. And thanks for the cookies and tea"

Hawkman left the Ryan household and headed for the police station. On the way, he punched in Detective Williams’ number on his cell. “Just wanted to check to be sure you're there."

"Hey, this is my first home. Get your butt over here; I need a break."

"I'll be there in less than ten minutes."

Hawkman entered Williams’ office to find the detective buried in paperwork. “I thought all this would end when they got you a helper."

"I still have to sign every damn paper that comes through here."

Pulling up a chair, Hawkman sat down in front of the desk. “First of all, I better clear up something. You're thinking Jennifer and I are having marital problems, right?"

"Yeah, what else can I think? You're a grouch to be around lately."

"I know, but we didn't want to tell anyone until we knew a little more and talked to Sam."

"What the hell are you talking about? Surely, Jennifer's not pregnant."

Hawkman couldn't help but grin. “I wish it were that simple. She's been diagnosed with lymphoma cancer."

Williams flopped back in his chair and blew out a breath of air. “My God! What a blow!"

"Yeah, I know. The doctors have assured us they can knock it into remission and she'll be fine. She starts her chemotherapy on Monday."

The detective placed his arms on the desk. “Oh, man, I'm so sorry to hear such news. But thankful they can do something about it."

"They've done a lot with cancer research and treatments. Of course, we don't know what to expect. Jennifer is taking all this news a hell of a lot better than I am. The doctor told her she'll lose her hair and she's already ordered a wig. Her first treatment will be six or seven hours long and she's prepared for it. I'm walking around like a numbskull. She finally pushed me out of the house and told me to go work on the case."

"Man, with such a heavy load on your mind, have you been able to concentrate?"

"Barely. I'm trying. Otherwise I'd lose my mind.” Hawkman leaned forward putting his elbow on his thighs. “I think I'm onto something, and I'm going to need your help."

Williams dragged a paper pad from under a folder and took a pencil from the glass container. “What have you discovered?"

Hawkman explained about Tiffany describing the Gucci purse her mother had purchased. Then about how he'd discovered Tulip carrying an identical handbag. When he inquired where she'd bought it, she informed him her dad gave it to her for a birthday gift. “I'm going to try and examine it more closely, then check with Elaine's Bouquet. From what Jennifer told me, this shop doesn't carry duplicate styles. I could be wrong, but if I can trace this purse back to Carlotta, we've got a hot case brewing."

"Sounds like you have this line of investigation under control. How do you need my help?"

"If suspicions arise concerning this item, we'll need to confiscate it. Then I'm going to need a court order to search Hank Withers’ house and store."

"What do you expect to find?"

Hawkman aired his gruesome thoughts to the detective and watched his reaction.

Williams grimaced. “Man, that's pretty gross stuff."

Hawkman nodded. “I hope it doesn't come about, but my gut tells me I'm getting closer all the time."

The detective stood and crossed the room to the coffee maker. Dumping his cup of cold brew into the waste basket, he turned to Hawkman. “Wanta a mug of java?"

"Sure. Thanks."

Once settled back at his desk, Williams placed his elbow on the surface and rested his chin on the pedestal of his hand. “This case could get sticky. You've got to be certain before we make a move. We're talking about someone who's been in this community for years and has the highest respect from the people who live here."

"I know, but sometimes people crack if they have pressures in their lives."

"Do you think Tulip's involved in this caper?"

Hawkman sighed. “Right off the top of my head, I'm not sure. But it will come out sooner or later whether she is or not."

"What about Carlotta's husband or his mother?"

"I can't see Paul involved in murder.” Hawkman waved his hand in a hovering motion. “But Delia's another story. I'm keeping an open book on her."

"You have your work cut out. As I told you, we have the Carlotta case in our open files now, so if you get some good evidence, I can approach a judge and get a court order to search the Withers’ properties."

Hawkman stood. “Thanks, Williams. I'll keep you updated."

"Tell Jennifer my thoughts and prayers are with her. I hear chemo is hell. Be sure and support her through this ordeal. It's not going to be pleasant."

"I intend to."

Hawkman left the detective's office and drove to the cottage containing Elaine's Bouquet. He climbed out of his vehicle with a small paper pad and went to the front entry where the business hours were posted. It stated she opened Monday through Saturday from ten until six. After jotting down the information, he returned to the SUV and tossed the pad on the dashboard. Maybe he'd run by tomorrow while waiting for Jennifer. He had a couple of things on his agenda to help keep his mind off his sweet wife undergoing chemotherapy.

He dropped by the office to retrieve the Carlotta file before returning home. When he entered the room, he noted the red message light blinking on the phone. He hit the button, then stopped in his tracks.

"You don't pay attention. I told you to forget about Carlotta, but you just keep digging. She's gone forever. Let it go. Otherwise, someone's going to get hurt."

Same muffled voice, but the intent came through loud and clear. The caller ID stated it again initiated from a pay phone on Main Street. He burned the information onto a CD and stuck it into the file. Then called Paul.

"I just received another message. Don't let up your guard on Tiffany. I think we better keep her out of school another week. I know she'll be disappointed, but it's better to be safe than sorry. And by all means keep her in your sight; don't let her go out with anyone, even someone you think you can trust."

"I hear you,” Paul said in a strained voice. “This is getting mighty scary."

"Yes, it is. I'm working on a lead right now and hope it develops so we can bring this case to a close. I'll keep you informed. Just keep a sharp eye on our little girl."

Picking up the file, he left the office and headed home. When he arrived, it pleased him to see Jennifer behind the computer in the dining room area. He strolled over and gave her a peck on the cheek, then pointed to a piece of tape on her arm. “What's with the Band-Aid?"

She glanced down and laughed. “Oh, I neglected to take it off. I almost forgot I had to have a blood test before the chemo, so had to drive all the way into Medford to the lab. Fortunately, they're open on Sunday. Also picked up my prescription for the oral chemo. You won't believe it, but I have to take fifteen pills a day for five days."

"What!"