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Authors: Betty Sullivan La Pierre

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BOOK: Angels in Disguise
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Paul snickered. “Thanks. She'll be thrilled. Any new developments?"

"A couple, but I can't really discuss them yet. As soon as I know something positive, I'll let you know."

He sighed. “It seems things are really dragging."

"True, but without any real evidence, we really have to dig. We'll eventually find out where Carlotta is or what's happened. The police are involved now, and that might speed things up, but I can't guarantee it."

"I'm afraid the longer it goes without any word, the more discouraged I get."

"Unfortunately, you're right, but we won't give up hope."

After ending the conversation, Hawkman leaned back in the chair, rubbed his forehead and wondered when he'd be able to talk to Hank Withers.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Hawkman called the two former clients, then set up an appointment with the probable new prospect in an hour at his office. He felt a little reluctant to take on a new case at the moment, but he'd find out what the person needed before turning it down.

He put in a call to Jennifer, who informed him that she and Amelia were in a hot gin rummy game and didn't want to be disturbed. He smiled to himself when he replaced the receiver. At least, she seemed content and feeling okay, but he knew his wife wouldn't tell him if she was dragging butt.

Putting Carlotta's file aside, he flipped the sheets of the yellow pad over to a clean page, checked the coffee and decided to make a fresh brew. He rummaged in the cabinet for some styrofoam cups and placed them in a stack beside the pot, along with a handful of dry creamers and sugar he kept handy in a small basket. The prospective client gave the impression he might be bringing another person, so Hawkman pushed two chairs close to the desk. He gave everything a final inspection, checked his watch and figured he had a few minutes before they'd arrive.

Wandering over to the window with a mug of java, he stared into the parking lot. His mind drifted to the Withers. He'd drive by Mom's Cafe tonight and see if Tulip showed up. The smell of bakery goods drifted through the open window, which reminded him not to forget to stop by and see Clyde before leaving. A car pulled into a vacant spot near the front of the building. A couple got out and pointed toward the shingle hanging at the front of the stairs. Hawkman figured they were the new customers.

Mr. and Mrs. Jim Thompson needed a private investigator to find a long lost aunt on the wife's side After extensive questioning, Hawkman decided to take the case, as most of the work could be handled on the computer. They happily signed the contract and gave him a deposit. When they left, Hawkman dumped the coffee pot, closed the window, grabbed Carlotta's file, and headed downstairs to the bakery. Clyde held out a large box encircled with a bright blue ribbon, topped with a matching bow, and card.

"You tell Ms. Jennifer I've baked all her favorites today. I hope she enjoys them."

"Anything in there for me?” Hawkman asked, with a faked hurt expression.

The baker laughed. “I'm sure she'll share."

"This is very kind of you, Clyde. She'll be thrilled."

He placed the goodies carefully in the passenger seat, making sure the box sat evenly so the contents wouldn't mash against each other. He stopped at the supermarket and picked up the items on Jennifer's list, then drove to Tulip's apartment complex. Circling the parking lot, he still didn't see her car anywhere, so headed for Mom's. He arrived a few minutes before opening time, so parked and waited. Soon, Tulip drove around the corner and found a vacant slot about half way down the block. Hawkman watched her walk with her head down and shoulders slumped. He got out of his vehicle and met her at the door.

"Hi, Tulip. Went by your dad's shop this morning to buy some steaks. He had a closed sign stating there'd been an emergency in the family. It really surprised me as I've never seen his place not open for business."

She nodded. “Yeah, I know. His brother had a massive heart attack and he wanted to be with him. I'm going to run the store tomorrow. I can be there until almost time for me to come to work here. At least he won't lose too much money."

"That's good of you. But it's going to be a lot of work trying to keep up with both jobs."

"I think I can handle it. I have to get up earlier too, because I'm staying out at his place so I can take care of his pets."

"I had no idea Hank liked animals."

She signed. “Oh,my, he's got a cat, bird and a dog. And they're the biggest babies in the world. They have certain routines you have to follow or they aren't happy."

"How long do you think he'll be gone?"

"Probably two weeks, maybe even longer.” Then she took hold of his arm, her eyes wide. “I just heard your wife has cancer. Is she going to die?"

Hawkman stepped back. He'd never let that word enter his thoughts and it shocked him. “Uh, no. She's undergoing chemo treatments and the doctors told her they can knock it into remission."

"That's good news,” she said, as she turned toward the entry. “I better get to work."

Hawkman stared at her as she pushed open the door and went inside.

* * * *

The rest of the week Hawkman stayed home with Jennifer as the chemo played its game of hell. She claimed everything tasted like cardboard, so Hawkman ended up eating most of Clyde's delicious baked goods.

But she made him vow never to tell the likable baker. He worked in his home office on the new case and also talked with Paul, telling him the situation. He expressed his sorrow at hearing about Jennifer and assured Hawkman things were going smoothly with Tiffany since she'd started back to school. There'd been no threats nor had they seen anything suspicious around the house. Delia stayed in the classroom and near her granddaughter most of the day.

About the time Jennifer started feeling better, she had to go in for the stent placement. When she came home from the hospital the doctor had given her the pain pill Vicodin, which made her very sick. She vomited and passed out in the bathroom. It scared Hawkman so badly, he wanted to call the medical helicopter to take her to the hospital, but Jennifer insisted she'd be okay.

"Throw those horrible pills away. How anyone could ever get addicted to them is beyond me,” she grumbled, holding her stomach as she tumbled into bed.

Hawkman felt beside himself, not knowing what to do as he watched his wife spend three days with horrible pain in her back and right flank.

"Let me call the doctor for a stronger pain killer,” he said.

She paced the floor in front of him. “No, I'm going to have him remove this thing. I can't handle this with all the other stuff going on."

"Why don't you lie down and rest?"

"I can't stand to stay in bed. It drives me nuts."

When she called the doctor, he said he couldn't understand the cause of her suffering and ordered an x-ray to make sure the stent hadn't been jarred out of place. The film showed it in perfect position.

Before going to bed, Jennifer decided to ask the surgeon to remove the stent, even though she'd be taking a risk of losing a kidney. But to her surprise, she woke up the next morning with no pain.

"I can't believe it. I think my body has finally decided to accept this thing and quit fighting it. And not only that, I'm hungry."

Hawkman jumped out of bed. “What do you want? I'll go fix it right now."

"Pancakes and bacon sound delicious."

"You got it.” He threw on his jeans and a tee shirt, then hurried to the kitchen.

As he stood over the stove frying bacon, Jennifer strolled in slowly, her head bowed.

"What's the matter, honey?"

She held up a handful of hair. “I'm starting to shed. The doctor hit the nail right on the head. It's three weeks since my treatment. Thank goodness I already have my wig and turbans."

He stared at her for a moment. “I can't tell you've lost any."

"This all came out in my comb. It appears it's just going to thin, instead of falling out in clumps."

"Maybe you should just shave your head. Wouldn't that be easier than going through the misery of watching it come out gradually?"

"No, it will be interesting to see how long it takes and if any hangs in there."

"You're a glutton for punishment."

"Think I'll put a scarf on though; I don't want hair falling into my food."

"That's a good idea."

After they ate, Jennifer took a small plastic bag from the pantry. “I think I'll save my hair and see if it comes back the same color and texture. People have told me it could come back different, maybe even curly. At least it'll be an interesting experiment."

Hawkman gazed at her in amazement. “Whatever turns you on."

"You better take advantage of these next few days while I'm feeling okay and do some work on the Carlotta case. Remember, next week is my second chemo treatment."

"It can't be as bad as this one. At least you won't have a stent put in and suffer with a medication that didn't agree with you."

"True, but you can never tell, I've heard each time it acts differently."

"Are you sure you'll be okay here alone?"

"It seems my brain is working this morning and I'm not running into the walls quite as bad. I don't have any energy, but hopefully I can work on my book at the computer. I'm still freezing, but I can always bundle up."

"Okay, if you're sure you'll be okay. Promise to call if you need anything."

"I will."

"I'll stop at the butcher shop and see if Hank's home yet. If Tulip has the store open, I could pick up a couple of steaks if you think you could eat one."

She tapped a finger on her chin. “Now that sounds mighty good."

"Great. But if you don't feel like eating a big hunk of beef, I'll freeze them for a later time.” He buckled on his shoulder holster and turned to give her a kiss. “Wonder how Tulip's managing her father's store and the waitress job?"

"She's probably doing just fine."

Hawkman left the house, and headed for Medford. He didn't want to be gone long, so drove straight to the butcher shop. The bell jingled as he opened the door.

"Be right with you,” Tulip called over the buzz of the saw. She had a hair net over her head and hovered over the cutting board, the saw grinding at a bone in the hunk of meat she steadied with her gloved hand.

The saw finally hushed and she turned toward the counter. “Hi, Mr. Casey, what can I get you today?"

Hawkman stood in front of the glass display cabinets and pointed at the filet mignon. “I think I'll take a couple of those."

She pulled two from the tray and held them up. “These okay?"

"They look fine. Have you heard from your dad?"

"Yes, I talked to him last night. His brother's not in good shape. He might be gone longer."

"Sorry to hear it. I notice you're cutting meat here. Doesn't he have a set up at the house where you could do it?"

"No, he doesn't even have a separate freezer, other than the one in his refrigerator. He just uses the big one here to store his own meat."

Hawkman paid his bill. “Makes sense. How are you doing holding down two jobs?"

"It's very tiring. I drop into bed and sleep like a log. But I really haven't minded it too much. I think because I know it won't be forever."

He picked up his bundle and change. “Thanks. I'll be talking to you."

Hawkman drove to his office in deep thought. “Very interesting, Hank doesn't have a freezer at his house."

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Hawkman removed the two steaks he'd bought earlier from the small refrigerator, left the office and headed home. When he opened the front door, he could hear peals of laughter coming from the living room. Then it stopped abruptly as he stepped into the kitchen and put the meat away. Amelia looked his way, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I thought I recognized your laugh,” Hawkman said. “What's so funny."

"Come in here and sit down. Jennifer's going to model her new wig."

Puzzled, he meandered over to his chair near the window.

"Okay, you can come out now,” Amelia called.

Jennifer waltzed into the room with a red, yellow, green and white clown wig on her head. She had a red round ball stuck on her nose, and bounced around the room like a jester as Amelia snapped pictures. Soon, out of breath, she flopped down on Hawkman's lap. “How do you like it? Thought I'd wear it to the next infusion."

Hawkman guffawed as the red nose fell off and she attempted to catch it. “Where'd you get that crazy thing?"

"It came by United Parcel, and guess who sent it?"

"I haven't the vaguest idea."

"Sam, with a note saying, ‘You need to be creative'. Can you believe our kid?"

He grinned. “Yep, he has a great sense of humor."

"I called Amelia as soon as it arrived and had her come over to view my new style."

Standing, Amelia placed the camera on the coffee table. “I needed a good laugh today. Now I better get home and put my supper together."

Jennifer jumped up from Hawkman's lap and gave her a hug. “Thanks for being such a great friend."

She smiled. “Goodnight, you little clown. Glad you're feeling better. Hope the second treatment is easier."

"Me too, I'll talk to you later."

After she left, Jennifer took Sam's letter from the counter and handed it to Hawkman. “I never dreamed he'd remember when I told him I'd lose my hair in about three weeks."

"Kids hear what they want and let the rest slide off their backs."

"He wants to come home, but I'm not sure I'm ready. I feel so lousy during chemo, I don't want him seeing me so sick."

"Tell him to hold off for awhile. You'll let him know when you feel like company. He'll understand."

"I don't want to hurt his feelings."

Hawkman pulled her into his lap again. “Honey, during this time you have to think about yourself. You've spent your whole life thinking about others. But now, it's different. You have to get well, and you can't if you're stressed out. We have to do what's best for you. Your health is the most important thing right now."

She sighed. “You're probably right, but it's hard."

BOOK: Angels in Disguise
6.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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