Cause for Murder (15 page)

Hawkman wished he could've searched both the bedrooms, but thought it a bit out of line at this point. He really didn't know what to look for, but figured if he'd found anything out of the ordinary, it would be worth noting. For instance, that cabinet outside. Near the back of the first shelf, he'd spotted a clean square area where something had recently been removed. It might be nothing of importance, but he'd remember it just in case.

When he arrived home, Jennifer sat at the computer, but immediately shut down the machine. “I need to talk to you."

He studied her expression. “Everything okay?"

She waved a hand and stood. “Yes. It's about Lilly and Maryann."

He hung up his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and stood at the end of the kitchen bar. “I'm all ears."

"I went into Yreka this afternoon, and spotted Maryann dropping Lilly off at that greasy spoon restaurant at the end of Carb Street."

Hawkman raised a brow. “So?"

"Why is she working there?"

"Maybe it's the only place she could find employment. Jobs are hard to come by right now."

Jennifer shuddered. “But it's a dive. Does she work there weekends too?"

"I don't know. But more than likely."

"Poor woman. That place is wild from what I understand.” She wrinkled her forehead in thought. “Wish I knew somebody who needed help. Maybe they'd hire Lilly."

Hawkman pointed at her. “You stay out of it right now. If Burke Parker was murdered, Lilly's going to come under heavy investigation. And it's best you're not involved."

She moved away from the computer toward him and touched his arm. “Hawkman, anybody in Yreka could have killed that man. No one liked him."

"It's a matter the police will have to sort out. Did you by any chance see which direction Maryann went?"

"No, I didn't even notice. I'd just come out of that little bookstore on the corner when I spotted Lilly in a waitress type uniform getting out of the car and going into that horrible place. I could hardly believe my eyes."

"Don't fret about Lilly. There's nothing you can do. And obviously, she needs the money."

Jennifer sighed. “I guess you're right. Maybe it's just temporary until she can find something better."

Hawkman meandered into the living room and sat down. “Sam won't be home for dinner. He and Richard want to finish painting a couple of rooms before they quit, so I went out and got them burgers. They're doing a good job."

She stood staring at him with a hand on her hip. “How do you know? I hope you weren't spying on the boys."

Hawkman laughed. “I guess I'm guilty.” He held up a hand. “Don't get me wrong. I'm not concerned about their work. Just wanted to do a little snooping on my own and with them there, it seemed the opportune time."

Jennifer sat on the edge of the couch, her arms resting on her knees with hands clasped. “Why? Is there something you haven't told me?"

He shook his head. “No, just curious. Trying to stay a jump ahead."

She frowned. “But you don't even know the cause of Burke's death yet."

"I saw the pictures of his body. Fortunately, Williams has a good staff. The photographer didn't miss a thing and neither did the coroner. I think they suspected something from the beginning."

"What did you see?"

"Scoring around and inside his mouth. I'm sure when the tests come back, we're going to find out that Burke ingested poison. And I doubt very seriously his medications killed him."

"Wouldn't he have realized he'd swallowed something toxic?"

Hawkman raised his hands, palms up. “Depends on how much liquor he'd consumed. From what I understand, he didn't hold his booze well. Williams said they found a couple of empty whisky bottles in his room. They've sent those to the lab for evaluation.” He stared at the floor a moment. “Wonder if he bought his liquor or someone gave it to him?"

"Are you thinking out loud?"

He glanced at her as if shaken out of a deep sleep and grinned. “I think you've got me pegged."

She smiled. “It doesn't mean he drank a whole bottle the night he died."

"That's true."

"Getting back to you prying around Lilly's place. Are you looking for anything specific?"

"Not yet. I wanted to see how she and Maryann live. It gives me some background on their personalities and what they're capable of doing."

"Come to any conclusions?"

"No. But I can see why Sam doesn't trust Maryann. I think the girl definitely has some deep seated problems. Whether she's capable of murder is hard to say."

"What about Lilly?"

"No opinion. I haven't had the opportunity to talk to her or observe her behavior. I've only seen her messy bedroom. Every time I stopped by to see the boys, she'd already left for work. So this weekend I'm going to hit that greasy spoon where she's employed."

"Why are you waiting until then?"

"Because I want to see if she also works in the bar. It's only open on Friday and Saturday evenings."

By the time Sam and Richard cleaned their equipment, capped the paint cans, pulled off the tape around the windows and removed the drop cloths protecting the furniture, darkness had set in. Both boys stretched and groaned at the same time, then laughed at each other.

"Bet I sleep good tonight,” Sam said.

"Me, too.” Richard stepped back and inspected the walls. “You know the fresh coat of paint really helped lighten these two rooms."

Sam stacked the supplies on the front porch. “Sure did. Tomorrow I'll come over and get one of the bedrooms ready. If you can't help me paint on Thursday, don't worry about it. Maybe I can get the rest of the inside done by Saturday and we can start on the outside."

"Okay. I'll check and see how things are going at the stables. I might be able to leave early. If so, I'll give you a call. Be sure you have your cell phone charged."

"Right.” Sam snapped his fingers. “I better leave a note for Mrs. Parker. I didn't mention I'd be over tomorrow.” He scribbled on a paper pad he found near the phone, asking Mrs. Parker to call if it wasn't convenient for him to come. He propped it against a small lamp on the end table. “We better close the windows and lock up before we leave."

The boys secured the house and turned out the lights, except the one where Sam had left the message. They hopped into Richard's pickup and drove away from the house. They rode pretty much in silence as Richard couldn't see Sam's mouth in the dark. After a few minutes, Richard broke the quiet.

"Don't look out the back, but check the mirror on the outside. There's been a car following us ever since we left the Parker place."

Sam quickly glanced out the passenger window. They weren't out of town yet, so he touched Richard's arm and made a gesture of getting something to drink, then pointed in the direction of Raley's. Richard nodded and turned at the next corner.

When they arrived in the lighted parking lot, he pulled into an empty space and stopped. They watched the vehicle behind them swerve off onto a side street.

"Did you recognize that car?” Richard asked.

"Yeah. It's the same one we saw a couple of weeks ago circling the block around the Parkers'."

Richard nodded. “That's what I thought. Do you think it's Maduk?"

"Who else could it be?"

"Why would he be interested in us?"

Sam shook his head. “Beats me.” Then he frowned. “Unless he thinks Maryann's talked to us."

"About what?"

"Maybe Maryann killed Burke and he wants to protect her. And you were with her over the Memorial Day holiday."

Richard rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh God. He might want to kill me to shut me up."

"You got a tire iron handy?"

"Yeah.” He pointed. “Under your seat."

Sam groped the floor until his fingers wrapped around the long piece of pipe. He dragged it out, took a deep breath and slapped it against the palm of his hand.

"Do you want to chance heading home?” Richard asked.

"We can't stay here all night. You got plenty of gas in case we have to detour?"

Richard glanced at the gauge. “Almost a full tank."

"Good. You concentrate on driving and I'll watch our tail."

Easing out of the parking lot, Richard headed for Copco Lake. He checked every intersection and watched the mirrors, even though he trusted Sam to keep a close eye on the rear. They traveled the twenty miles to the turnoff without anyone following them. They both breathed a sigh of relief as Richard made the turn toward the lake. Then, suddenly, Sam touched his arm and thumbed toward the back. Headlights were rapidly approaching.

Richard wiped the sweat from his forehead. His first impulse was to hit the accelerator, but he knew how dangerous that could be if a deer darted in front of the truck on these winding roads. He took several deep breaths to calm his nerves, then gripped the steering wheel. Keeping his gaze straight ahead, he drove at the speed limit.

As the lights grew close, he felt Sam's tension, along with his own. Suddenly, the vehicle started flashing its bright lights on and off. “Can you tell if that's a car or truck?"

Sam shook his head. “The beams are too bright, I can't see the front end."

What the hell does he want?” Richard asked', glancing into the rear view mirror. “I can't pull over, the shoulder's too narrow and we'd crash down that embankment.” Sweat ran down the middle of his back and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He shot a look at Sam's profile. His friend motioned for him just to drive straight ahead as he sat rigid, grasping the tire iron resting across his knees.

The vehicle behind them jerked into the left lane and sped past. Empty beer cans flew through the air and bounced off Richard's pickup. As he watched the small sedan go by, a couple of young men hung out the window making obscene gestures.

Richard's hands slipped down the steering wheel and he took a deep breath.

Glancing at his friend, he noticed Sam had dropped one end of the tire iron to the floorboard and wiped his face with the free hand.

Soon, Richard pulled into Hawkman's driveway. Sam shoved the makeshift weapon back under the seat, and motioned for Richard to come inside.

When the boys entered the house, Jennifer glanced up from the computer, then came to her feet. “Sam, what's the matter, you're white as a sheet. And you don't look much better, Richard."

Hawkman turned off the television with the remote control. “Want to tell us about it?"

They all sat in the living room, as Sam related the story. “We thought for sure Maduk was out to kill us. Then when that car full of drunks showed up; it almost did us in."

Hawkman slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “You boys might be jumping to conclusions. You can't be sure you were being followed. Could have been a coincidence that someone happened to be traveling the same direction. I think you're letting your imaginations run away over the death of Burke Parker."

Sam stiffened. “Richard and I both swear it's the same car we saw circling the block on our first day we went to the house. It's the same color and make with tinted windows."

"I'm not saying it wasn't the same car. But you don't know anything about Maduk.” Hawkman pulled a picture out of his pocket. “Could you tell me if this is the man you saw in the car that first time?” He held it in front of the boys.

"Is this Maduk?” Richard asked.

"Yes."

He took the photo and studied it for several seconds, then shook his head. “All I could see was a dark silhouette, but I don't think the man had long hair. There's no way I could tell what he looked like straight on.” He passed it to Sam.

After examining the portrait, he glanced at Hawkman. “I couldn't tell anything about the person inside the car, except he looked big. But I do remember the Buick as it passed the house several times. And I'm sure that was the same car tonight."

"Okay, fair enough,” Hawkman said, pocketing the picture. “Now you know what the man looks like. I'm sure it gave you a shock when you saw the same car traveling behind you. Let me know if you spot it again and try to get the license plate number. And I can imagine how a vehicle full of drunks upset you. Did you come across them again before you got home?"

Both boys shook their heads.

"I'd feel much better if you'd spend the night here, Richard,” Jennifer said.

Sam playfully punched his friend on the arm. “That's a great idea. I'll call your Uncle Joe and tell him you'll just go to work from here in the morning. Then he won't worry about you."

Richard smiled. “Okay. I sure wouldn't cherish the idea of running into that bunch of goons by myself. And they could well be up in that picnic area living it up."

Sam made a quick call to Uncle Joe. He didn't relate their scary incidents, figuring Richard could tell him when he got home the next day. After he hung up, he turned to his buddy. “You can shower first. Hope that paint comes out of your hair. You look mighty weird with that colorful frosting across the top of your head."

Richard glanced at his reflection in the window and laughed. “Man, I forgot all about what I might look like after painting."

"You can borrow some clean clothes for work."

"It won't hurt for me to wear these. My job at the ranch involves dirty labor, so I never wear good stuff."

The boys hustled off to Sam's room.

Hawkman leaned back in the chair. His thoughts went to the big black Buick. His gut told him Maduk drove that car. But why would he be interested in the boys? He figured the Indian knew Sam and Richard were friends of Maryann. He might be concerned about how much she'd confided in them.

Jennifer sat down on the hassock next to Hawkman's feet. “What do you think about their story?"

"Not sure. They're two young men associated with a possible murder case. Their imaginations can run wild."

"True, but I don't think I've ever seen Sam so pale."

"It definitely scared them both. But don't worry. Nothing happened, except they got terribly frightened. At least they'll be watching their backs."

Jennifer slapped his thigh. “That doesn't make me feel any better."