Cause for Murder (3 page)

"Yep. There was a short time after Pretty Boy died that he didn't have one, but Jennifer found another bird in Washington and had it flown in for his birthday a couple years ago."

"And I remember Richard. He's the guy whose mother and dog were murdered by that old hermit."

Sam nodded. “Yeah, tragic story. He's really a nice guy."

Maryann frowned. “How do you talk to him?"

"He reads your lips. You just make sure he's looking at you and he can answer you. His voice sounds a little strange, but that's because he can't hear the inflections. His mother never allowed him to learn sign language. She wanted him to be able to fit into society. And he's succeeded there and also made such excellent grades in high school that he got a scholarship to college."

"That's amazing,” Maryann said. “Where does he live now?"

"Still up in the same little house. Except he and his Uncle Joe have completely revamped the place and it really looks nice."

"Interesting. So, how long have you been friends?"

"Years. We used to ride in the hills together when we were younger and didn't even know each other's name.” Sam chuckled. “I have some fond memories of those rides."

Maryann shook her head. “Guys do strange things."

"So what are you planning for the summer?"

"I'm debating about going back for summer school or staying home. It all depends on the situation."

Jennifer strolled into the living room and took a seat opposite Hawkman in the matching swivel chair.

"Do you feel better now that Sam's called?” he asked.

"Yes and no.” She drummed her fingers on the armrest.

"Why, no?"

"Because of who's with him."

He shrugged. “What's wrong with Maryann Parker? School's out and she probably needed a ride home."

"It's not so much her hitching a ride, but the fact Lilly doesn't even know her daughter's coming home. I'd have thought the girl would already be here with her mother. It just seems strange."

"This whole Parker business is getting more bizarre by the minute. It sounds like a dysfunctional family."

Jennifer sighed and shook her head. “I think you've pegged it. Certainly makes one wonder."

"Let's not make any judgments. We don't know the whole story. The girl could have come home then returned for finals. Granted, it's unusual behavior, but let's find out more from Sam."

She snapped her fingers. “Oh, not to change the subject, but don't let me forget to tell Sam Uncle Joe called. He said Richard tried to text message Sam on the cell, but couldn't get a response."

"That's understandable. But it'll go through as soon as Sam's in an area where the signal's stronger."

Hawkman dropped his feet off the ottoman and sat forward in the chair. “Getting back to the Parkers. I think I'm going to drop in on Detective Williams tomorrow and see if he knows anything about Burke's death. It's out of his jurisdiction, but sometimes Yreka calls on him if they need help"

"You think it might be foul play?"

"Do you know the age of Maryann's parents?"

"I'd say in their forties."

"That seems mighty young for a man to die, unless he had severe health problems. Have you heard Burke had any ailments other than alcoholism?"

"No, but that alone could cause a multitude of illnesses."

"True. The autopsy should give some clues."

Jennifer squirmed in her chair. “How horrible for Maryann if they discover her dad had been murdered."

Hawkman picked up the remote control and flipped on the television to the local station. “Let's see if they have any news on that fire."

Both of them focused on the screen.

"Oh good,” Jennifer said. “They've opened the road. Sam should make it home by dark."

When Sam pulled into the driveway at Maryann's home, he could hardly believe his eyes. The house had changed drastically from what he remembered four years ago. Paint had peeled from spots on the exterior walls revealing bare wood. One of the gutters on the side of the house hung precariously in front of a window. The grass in the front yard had given up and dandelions grew in abundance. Brown stems of what used to be colorful flowers stood tall in the pots that lined the sagging porch.

Maryann didn't move for several moments, her gaze fixed on the house. “Looks pretty seedy doesn't it?"

"It definitely needs some attention. Maybe this summer Richard and I can help you get this place back in shape. I'm sure your mom doesn't have the money to hire someone to do it, especially now with no money coming in from your da ... uh, Burke."

She stared into his face. “I can't expect you guys to spend your summer vacation working on a dilapidated old house."

"I'm serious. The place is small. A bit of paint, a few nails, and some grass seeds will do wonders. Why within a few weeks of hitting it hard every day, we'll have it done."

Maryann sighed and jumped out of the truck. “I appreciate your offer, Sam. Let me see what my Mom's plans are before you even think about it. Who knows, she might have left the country."

Sam climbed out of the pickup and walked around to the bed of the truck. “Is she working?"

"She's been working as a waitress at a greasy spoon cafe downtown for about six or seven months. I don't even remember the name of the place."

Sam unfastened the tarp and pulled out her suitcase. “Give me a call. If Richard can't help, I'd be more than happy to do what I can.” He turned toward the house, but Maryann took the bag from him.

"I can manage. Thanks for the ride."

Sam climbed into his truck and as he snapped on his seat belt noticed a scroungy looking man step from the narrow alley behind the Parker house. He watched for a moment as the vagabond adjusted the plastic bag he had slung over his shoulder before proceeding down the street. Sam shook his head as he turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. This part of town had its share of outcasts and it made him thankful he didn't live here.

Soon, his sad thoughts of Maryann and her dilemma faded as he drove toward Copco Lake. A feeling of giddiness overtook him and he could hardly wait to see his folks. Even though he'd been home over the Christmas holidays, it seemed like an eternity ago.

Maryann carried her suitcase up the rickety stairs of the porch and dropped it at the entry. She gave Sam a wave as he pulled away from the house. “Mom, it's me. Are you there?” she called, softly rapping on the wooden frame.

When no one answered, she dug into her purse for a set of keys and unlocked the front door. She picked up her bag and stepped into the living room. Tossing the suitcase on the couch, she called again. “Mom, are you here?” Still no answer.

Taking a cigarette from the pack lying on the end table, she lit it, then carried an overflowing ashtray to the kitchen and dumped it into the trash can. The house smelled of stale smoke and food, so she opened a couple of windows to let a breeze blow through. Strolling back into the kitchen, she flipped on the light and let out a sigh as her gaze traveled across a sink full of dirty dishes. Skillets with congealed grease coating their bottoms sat on the stove. When she walked across the room, the soles of her boots stuck to the floor, making a sucking noise. She snuffed out her cigarette in a dirty saucer, left the room in disgust, picked up her suitcase, and headed for the room she called her own.

Not sure what to expect, she hesitated a moment before opening the door. To her surprise, even though a musty smell invaded her nostrils, everything appeared much like she'd left them from her last trip home. The Raggedy Ann doll with the smiling face still graced the pillow on her bed. She dropped her bag on the floor and opened the windows.

While things aired out, Maryann meandered through the rest of the house. When she came to her mother's bedroom, she leaned against the door jamb and stared at the pitiful sight of clothes strewn over the chairs, bed and floor. Her mother had never been very neat, but her housekeeping had gone from bad to worse in just a short time. Things were definitely rough for her mom, but it didn't excuse filth, she thought.

No sense in putting it off. Mother probably won't be home until midnight, since most of the food places stayed open until ten or eleven o'clock on the weekends. And more than likely, she'd stay and help with the cleanup. It will give me time to scour the bathroom and get the kitchen into decent shape so we can fix a meal without the fear of getting sick. Changing into her tennis shoes, Maryann pulled her hair into a pony tail, donned an apron and set to work.

At eleven thirty, she finally finished mopping the kitchen floor. Opening the back door to hasten the drying, she noticed the beam of a flashlight down in the corner of the alley. She let out a disgusted sigh and spoke aloud. “That old vagabond's not about to leave his source of food.” Hanging up the apron on a nail in the small pantry, she turned and smiled to herself as she eyed her handiwork. At least the stove, refrigerator and sink now sparkled. A big difference from what she'd walked into a few hours ago. She pulled the rubber band off her pony tail, ran her fingers through her thick hair and let it billow around her shoulders. “That feels much better,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

When the front door slammed, she jumped. “Mom, is that you?"

A small, tired looking woman walked around the corner of the room. Her pale blue eyes lit up when she saw Maryann. “Honey, I didn't know you were coming home. What a wonderful surprise.” She gave her daughter a hug. “I noticed the lights on in the house, but just figured I'd forgotten to turn them off in my hurry to get to work."

"So you're still waitressing at that cafe?"

Lilly nodded. “There isn't anything else available. Believe me, I've tried. But with Burke giving me less and less as time went by, I had to take what I could get. And now that he's dead, there's nothing coming in and I need to survive."

Maryann nodded. “Can I fix you something to eat or drink?"

Her mother glanced around the kitchen. “Oh my, you've cleaned this place until it's gleaming.” Then she waved a hand and shook her head. “I'm not hungry. Had a meal at the restaurant, but I'd love a whiskey and water."

"Sure. Go sit down and take off your shoes. I'll fix us both one and join you in a minute."

Lilly snapped her fingers. “Oh, first, let me put my leftovers out on the porch for Frank."

Maryann shook her head. “Mother, why are you still feeding that old homeless man when you hardly have enough to eat yourself?"

"Frank walks the streets day and night looking for food. Bless his heart, he needs some nourishment. And he's surprised me several times by doing little odd jobs around here when I've been at work."

Maryann put a hand on her hip. “Like what?"

"Last week he raked up a bunch of debris that had gathered under the porch and carport, then put it in the dumpster. But it doesn't matter, the restaurant would have just thrown this good food out anyway.” She took the plastic container out of the bag she'd carried into the kitchen and hurried to the front door. Within a few seconds she came back in and flopped down on the couch.

Maryann thought about scolding her mother for the risk she might be taking as a woman living alone, but decided tonight wasn't the time. She wanted to find out more about Burke's death and her dad, Maduk.

The sun had barely set when Sam drove over the bridge, and heard the sound of the Klamath River cascading beneath his truck. The air smelled sweet and pure making him yelp with joy at finally being home. The lights were on inside and he could see Jennifer peeking out the kitchen window as his headlight beams hit the glass. She ran out the door and greeted him before he managed to get out of the truck. He embraced her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then glanced up at a grinning Hawkman standing in the doorway.

"Glad you arrived safe and sound,” he said, giving Sam a big hug and pat on the back.

"Oh, man, I've so looked forward to getting here. That danged fire held us up for a couple of hours."

They unloaded the truck and carried the items to the boy's room.

"This place looks great,” Sam said, dumping a load of stuff on the bed.

Hawkman eyed the pile of dirty clothes and grinned. “Yep, there's nothing like coming home."

After dinner, they settled in the living room.

"Catch us up on your news,” Jennifer said.

"What do you want to know?” Sam asked.

"Do you have plans for the summer, or are you going to hang around here?"

"I plan on hanging out right here, fishing, riding my bike and relaxing."

Hawkman chuckled. “Sounds like you plan on being down right lazy."

Sam laughed. “Well, it's a nice thought. But when I saw the house that Maryann's mom lives in, I offered my services to help get it back in shape. Maybe I'll be doing a bit of hard labor, too."

Jennifer looked puzzled. “What do you mean?"

"The Parker place is falling apart. I thought I'd talk to Richard and encourage him to help, at least on the weekends."

Hawkman leaned forward. “What kind of repairs are you talking about?"

Sam shrugged. “Oh, painting the outside, fixing gutters that are hanging loose from their brackets. And the porch is sagging, it needs some shoring up or someone's going to get hurt. In fact, the house looks like it's in shambles. Even the lawn is burned to a crisp and taken over by weeds."

Hawkman raised a brow. “You might have offered more than you can do. Sounds like it could take a hunk of money."

"I thought I'd talk to some of the merchants I know in town. Maybe they'd be willing to donate some paint and stuff, if I did the labor. Especially, since Mr. Parker just passed away.” Sam sat up straight in the chair and faced Hawkman. “By the way, how'd he die?"

"We don't know,” Hawkman said. “They found him in a motel room, and the autopsy report isn't out yet."

"He couldn't have been very old,” Sam said.

"Did Maryann say anything about her dad?” Jennifer asked.

"Yeah, more than I really wanted to know."