Cause for Murder (18 page)

"Hope I didn't wake you,” Sam said.

"Nope. Didn't hear you at all. In fact, I thought you were still asleep."

"I want to get through early so Richard and I can take in a movie over at the Broadway."

"Sounds like a good plan."

"So what are you going to investigate today?"

Hawkman grinned as he put on a pot of coffee. “You sound like Jennifer with all your questions. I'll let you know in due time."

Sam laughed. “Fair enough."

He pointed toward the yogurt. “Any more left?"

"Oh, yeah. There's a bunch in all different flavors."

When Sam finished eating, he grabbed the duffle bag off the counter and headed toward the door. “Would you tell Jennifer I'll be late?"

Hawkman nodded. “By the way, keep what I told you last night under your hat. Let Detective Williams break the news to Maryann and her mother."

"Don't worry, I won't say a word."

After Sam left, Hawkman poured coffee into an insulated mug, placed his shoulder holster on the counter, then shrugged into his jeans jacket. He had his hat in his hand when Jennifer appeared beside him, still in her robe.

"My gosh, you guys were up at the crack of dawn,” she said, stifling a yawn.

"Sam wanted to get an early start. He and Richard are going to the movies after they finish tonight. He said to tell you he'd be late."

She took a cup from the cupboard. “Okay. So where are you going at this hour?"

"I've got some surveillance to do. If I don't get going, I could miss my target."

She frowned. “Your target? Are you planning on shooting him?"

Hawkman laughed. “No, just a figure of speech. I've got someone I want to watch. And I'm not sure when he'll arrive at the destination I have in mind."

"That's a very vague explanation."

"I know. But right now I'm not mentioning any names or places. Maybe later I'll let you in on it, if my hunch is right."

She let out a sigh. “You sure know how to leave a person in the dark."

He grinned and gave her a hug. “I'm going to be doing some bar-hopping tonight. So, I'll also be late."

She put a hand on her hip. “Looks like it's going to be mighty quiet around here today."

He shrugged. “Well, you're always complaining we're too noisy. Now you'll have a chance to get a lot of writing done without interruption and work way into the night if you so desire.” Giving her a quick kiss, he plopped on his hat, grabbed his gun and coffee, then scooted out the front door before she had time to respond.

Hawkman arrived in Yreka at eight forty-five and headed straight for the courthouse. He slid his gun and holster under the seat, then threw on the alarm before locking the vehicle. He didn't want to explain his weapon when he went through the metal detector.

Taking the stairs two at a time to the second floor, he rounded the corner and entered his friend's office.

Sheila glanced up and smiled. “Well, hello, Hawkman. Good to see you. My goodness, you're up and about early."

"I need some information and hope you can help me locate a piece of property."

"I'll sure give it a try."

He sat down in front of her desk and printed out Madukarahat on a sheet of paper. This is the only name I know of this person. Is there any chance you can tell me if he owns any property in the county?"

"It's common for Native Americans to only go by one name. I'll throw it into the computer and see if anything comes up."

The machine hummed for several seconds as Sheila kept her eyes on the monitor. “This is very interesting."

"What is?"

"Looks like he purchased a small house on a piece of property within the last six months."

"Why do you look puzzled?"

"I don't see a real estate broker or a mortgage company listed. Looks like he paid cash. Of course, the value of these places is not high because of the location."

Hawkman scowled. “Where is it?"

"It's up in the hills with nothing more than a dirt road access. There are a few scattered homes throughout this area, but they're so dispersed that there's usually miles between each piece of property because of the rugged terrain. And it costs a bundle to have a septic tank installed, plus the thoroughfare maintained. However, the electricity and phone lines are in place. I'll print out the map and description."

After she handed him the copy, he stood. “Thanks, Sheila. I owe you lunch."

She laughed. “One of these days I'm going to have to take you up on all those promises. Maybe Jennifer could join us."

"If I can ever get her away from that computer, we'll give you a call."

"By the way, how's her next mystery coming? I love her stories. I wait eagerly for the next book."

"I'll tell her a fan wanted to know. Maybe it will push her to get it finished."

"Great."

Hawkman waved and left. In his vehicle, he slipped on his holster, then drove to Medford to the casino headquarters. He parked across the street and had a good view of the front, plus the small parking area beside the building. If he had Maduk pegged, he'd arrive right at eleven when the clerk said the paychecks would be ready. If he didn't catch him today, he'd have to wait another week.

At five minutes to eleven, a dark black Buick with tinted windows pulled into a parking slot directly in front of the office. Hawkman slipped on his sunglasses. He figured Maduk had his own spies and would know him by sight. Hunching down in the seat, he watched as the Indian climbed out of the car and headed for the front door. Once the man stepped inside, Hawkman slipped out of his vehicle and strolled toward the Buick. Opening his jacket so his gun showed, he leaned against the driver side of the car and waited.

Within a few minutes, Maduk bounded out the front door, but came to a sudden halt when he spotted Hawkman.

"Good morning, Madukarahat."

The Indian pulled himself up straight and sauntered toward the Buick. He stopped at the front end of the car. His hand rested on the handle of the knife hanging from his belt.

"Relax,” Hawkman said. “I just want to talk."

"I've been expecting you."

"Oh? How come?"

"You've been nosing around town asking questions."

"Yes, that's true."

"How'd you find out my name? And how'd you know I'd be here?"

"I'm a private investigator; it's part of my job."

Maduk stared at him. “What do you want to talk about?"

"Lilly, Maryann and Burke Parker."

The Indian's dark eyes narrowed. “Let's go for a ride."

Hawkman shook his head. “No, I don't think so.” He pointed across the street to a small cafe tucked between two buildings. “How about a cup of coffee. It's on me."

Maduk glared at him. “What's wrong? You don't trust me?"

Hawkman met his stare. “How can I trust a man I don't know? If you have nothing to hide, it shouldn't bother you to join me in a public place."

"You're a wise man.” Maduk stepped off the curb and brushed past Hawkman as he headed toward the diner.

Hawkman followed and they sat in a booth near the window. After the waitress set a mug before each man, she placed a coffee carafe on the end of the table.

Maduk's black eyes twinkled as his gaze bore into Hawkman. “I'm listening."

Hawkman poured them each a cup. “I'm not going to beat around the bush. You know I'm aware that you're Maryann Parker's real father."

"Who told you?"

"Your daughter told my son."

His lips curled slightly. “Ah, yes. I should have known."

"Why do you say that?"

"She's sweet on your boy, Sam."

"I don't know about that, but they've known each other for a long time."

Maduk nodded.

"I understand you and Lilly Parker have been lovers for years."

The Indian glowered. “What business is that of yours?"

"The police found Burke Parker dead in a motel room."

Maduk leaned back against the booth. His stare never left Hawkman's face. “Yes, I read about his death in the paper. What does that have to do with me?"

"You had every reason to want him out of the picture."

Maduk raised up out of the seat and leaned across the table, his face within inches of Hawkman's. “You tell me why I wanted him gone."

Hawkman's gaze locked with Maduk's fiery stare. “Sit down and we'll talk about it."

Maduk eased back into the seat and folded his large hands on the table top. “I'm listening."

"Why didn't you take Lilly and Maryann to the reservation when you learned of Burke Parker's abuse?"

"That's none of your damn business."

Hawkman leaned forward. “Your people banned you from the reservation because you killed a man from your own tribe. Isn't that right?” he hissed.

Maduk clenched his hands into fists. “That happened many years ago."

"Doesn't matter. The police will soon find out. Then, they're going to hunt you down and ask many questions."

"Why?"

"Because they've discovered someone murdered Burke Parker."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"You know the herbicide paraquat?"

"Isn't that a man-made poison to kill weeds?"

"Yes. Do you know where to get it?"

"I don't like that question.” Maduk said, rising. “I hated Burke Parker with a passion, and had many opportunities to kill him. But I didn't. If I had, it would have been with this."

Hawkman jumped as Maduk's knife stuck in the table in front of his chest. He felt beads of sweat form on his forehead when he realized he could've been a dead man in a matter of seconds.

Maduk reached over and pulled the knife from the surface. “I'm through talking to you today. Maybe we'll meet again at another time."

Hawkman watched the big Indian walk out the door.

A flustered waitress hurried toward him. “Sir, are you okay?"

He wiped his face with his hand. “Yeah, I'm fine.” He pulled a ten dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to her. “Keep the change and keep quiet about this incident."

"Oh, thank you, sir. I'll say nothing."

Hawkman rose and left the diner. He didn't believe for a minute the young waitress hadn't hightailed it to the back room to tell her fellow workers what had just happened, but he really didn't care. By the time he reached the street, the Buick had disappeared.

He climbed into the 4X4 and settled on the seat. Resting his hands on the steering wheel, he wondered how he'd missed Maduk's hand reaching for the knife. Having one eye covered didn't help. It'd been a long time since he'd met a man who had such dexterity with a blade. Harley had warned him. He should have paid more attention. Taking a deep breath, he felt lucky to be alive.

He picked up the papers on the passenger seat and studied the map to Maduk's new home. It appeared he could make it there and back before nightfall. He'd be taking a chance if Maduk decided to go home early. If the road had little traffic, the Indian would spot him immediately. Checking the gas gauge, he decided to top off the tank, just in case he needed to make a fast getaway over unknown terrain.

Sam reached the Parker home early and it eased his mind to find Maryann out in the front yard watering the garden she'd planted.

"Look, Sam.” She smiled, pointing toward the wet ground and gesturing toward the flower pots on the porch. “Little green shoots are popping up all over."

He glanced at the new forming plants. “Looks like you have a green thumb."

"Thanks."

"Is your room ready?"

"Yep. Everything's covered, closet is clear and I even taped the windows for you. Don't worry about making any noise, Mom had to go into work early again today. I hate to see her working so hard, but she says she needs the money."

"Thanks for telling me, I wouldn't want to disturb her. By the way, I'm grateful for your help."

"No problem. I'm sure you'll be happy to get it all done."

He nodded, picked up the small ladder from the porch and lugged it into Maryann's room. Slapping on the stiff painter's hat, he pried open a new gallon can, stirred it, poured the paint into the pan, then carefully adjusted it on the ladder before climbing the rungs. He soon finished the ceiling without any interruptions and moved the equipment to one of the corners. His back to the door, he suddenly realized the house had become deathly quiet. An uneasy prickling of his spine made him glance toward the hallway. He almost dropped the paint roller. A huge man stood in the doorway staring at him.

"Hello, Sam."

He gulped, recognizing Maduk from the picture Hawkman had shown him and Richard. His words fumbled from his mouth. “Uh, do I know you?"

"My name's Madukarahat."

"Hello Mr. Madukarahat."

"You may call me Maduk."

Sam took a deep breath, climbed down the ladder and approached the Indian. “I'd offer to shake hands, Mr. Maduk, but mine are covered in paint."

"No problem. Thought I'd let you know I spoke with your father this morning."

Sam felt his mouth drop open. “What about?"

"A number of things. He's a good man, but he needs to learn how to use a knife."

Swallowing hard, Sam felt his stomach constrict. “Is he all right?"

Maryann stepped up beside her father. “Don't let him frighten you, Sam. I'm sure he's fine.” She glanced at Maduk. “Isn't he?"

"Of course. He gave no reason for me to kill him at this time.” He turned his attention back to Sam. “But you might tell your dad I don't like getting pushed into a corner."

Maduk turned to Maryann. “Tell your mother I'll be back. I need to talk to her.” Then he walked out of the house.

Sam hurried to the door and recognized the car as the big man drove away. So it was him in the Buick, Sam thought. He went outside to his small truck and retrieved his cell phone from the glove compartment. Punching in Hawkman's number, he held his breath for several seconds before he breathed a sigh of relief. “Hawkman, are you okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"I'm at the Parker's house and Maduk just paid me a visit. He told me you needed to learn how to use a knife."

"Oh, really."