Shadows in the Night [Hawkman--Book 12] (18 page)

With a smirk, Maggie stood, slipped her feet into her shoes and grabbed the walker. “I'm going to dinner. You can join me if you wish."

"I'm not hungry. Enjoy your meal.” He lumbered out of the room and down the hallway.

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George stepped out of the elevator, then hobbled down the corridor, hardly noticing the nods or greetings of residents heading toward the dining room. He had no idea if Tom Casey still lingered in the building, but he'd do a search to make Maggie happy. Stopping for a moment to rest his knees, he glanced around the large room and immediately recognized the tall, lanky figure with the cowboy hat perched on his head standing near the front door. He and another man appeared to be in a deep conversation. Out of breath, George decided to wait and sat down on one of the plush sofas in the living room area.

The Marketing Director, Carmen Sanders, happened by at the moment. “Are you all right, Mr. Hampton?"

He nodded. “I'm fine. Just waiting for Mr. Casey."

She smiled and headed down one of the corridors.

Soon, Hawkman glanced in his direction, and motioned for the other man to follow. George stood for a moment as he shook his bones into shape, then using his cane for support, limped toward the private investigator.

"Hello, George. Have you met Detective Williams?"

After they shook hands, George addressed Hawkman. “I wonder if I could speak to you a moment in private?"

Detective Williams backed away. “I'll be in the facility headquarters if you need me."

Hawkman waved and turned back to Hampton. “You want to go back to Maggie's room?"

George shook his head. “No, let's go outside."

"It's nippy out there. You think your sweater will keep you warm enough?"

"I'll be fine. This won't take but a minute."

Hawkman noticed Maggie scooting by with her walker, but she didn't even glance in their direction. He held the door open, and they stepped out into a gusty breeze. “Let's stay within the alcove.” Hawkman said. It will protect us from that cold wind."

George leaned against the wall, clutched his walking stick with both hands, and scowled. “I want you to know I'm not happy about what I'm about to say."

Hawkman frowned. “Is there a problem?"

"Yes, Maggie wants me to fire you."

Surprised, Hawkman stepped back and stared at George. “Why?” Then he raised a hand. “Don't tell me, I bet I know. She's sick of being followed."

"Yep,” George nodded, “and she argues I shouldn't have to pay you for protection, when the police will give it to us free."

"Does she realize she won't get the same individual attention from the force as from me?"

"I tried to talk some sense into her, but she waved it off. She's my spouse, and this is all very frustrating for her. I can't have my better half upset, so guess I'm going to have to let you go."

"I'm sorry she feels that way."

"Let me know what I owe you and I'll write out a check."

"I haven't done the paperwork on the case yet. I'll send you a bill if your advance didn't cover all the hours we've put in. Or I'll reimburse you for anything left."

George rubbed his arms. “Thank you, for all you've done."

Hawkman reached over and opened the door. “You better get in out of this cold. Tell Maggie her freedom begins now. I'll get in touch with Kevin and tell him of your decision."

George hobbled inside, glanced toward the dining hall, took a deep breath, and limped toward the eatery.

Hawkman headed out into the parking lot where he'd get a better signal with his cell phone. Holding onto his hat, he braved the gusts of wind and sought shelter behind his 4X4. He dialed Kevin and told him the news. He grumbled a little about not having the easy job anymore, but assured him he wouldn't miss it.

Hurrying back into the building, Hawkman made his way to the detectives’ headquarters where he found Williams bent over some paperwork at his makeshift desk. “Good grief, does the paper trail follow you, even when you're out on an active case?"

Williams glanced up. “It follows me to bed at night.” He placed the pen on top of the stack and leaned back in the chair. “So what did Hampton want?"

"He fired me. Said no need to pay for what the police would do for him free."

The detective threw back his head and guffawed. When he regained his composure, he leaned forward. “Sorry about that my friend, but it just struck my funny bone."

Hawkman grinned. “It hit my wallet."

"I bet it did. Are you going to abandon the case completely?"

"Not if you don't mind me hanging around. I'm in this pretty deep and would like to see what else I can find out."

"Glad to have you, but unfortunately can't put you on the payroll."

"No problem.” A shadow caught Hawkman's eye, and he glanced at the door, then lowered his voice. “The doctor's here. I'll leave you two and stroll the halls for a bit."

Dr. Grahm slowly moved inside the doorway. “Hello, Mr. Casey. I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all. I'm just leaving."

Hawkman stepped out into the stream of residents leaving the dining hall. He crossed through the group where he didn't have to worry about being slowed by someone pushing a walker or using a cane. Not seeing Maggie, he assumed George had joined her and they were going to be a bit late getting out. He'd like to have one last chat with her before deleting the case from his books.

He stood in the corridor awaiting the Hamptons return when he noted Margy and Jessie coming back from dinner. As they moved past him, he wondered if the women were related. They had the same gestures and even resembled each other in their facial features. He'd stop by Lisa's office one of these days and ask her.

"What are you doing hanging around my door?"

Hawkman jerked around to find Maggie standing in the arms of her walker, her face contorted in a frown.

"Waiting for you."

"I thought George let you go?"

"He did. I just came by to tell you Kevin won't be bothering you anymore. I called and relieved him of his duties."

"Thank goodness. I'll have an evening of peace. I can hardly wait to tell my friends, so they'll feel comfortable in coming around again."

"Remember Maggie, everyone is confined to their rooms after dinner."

She waved a hand. “That's a bunch of baloney. Do they suspect any of us old cronies are killers?"

"Very possible, so I wouldn't cause any problems. The police are not patient and might haul you off to spend the night in a jail cell."

She tossed her head, hitched the walker around, and headed into her room.

"Oh, by the way, where's George?"

"I sent him home. He drives me as batty as you and your helper."

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Hawkman shook his head as Maggie disappeared into her room. He strolled to the elevator, and as he stepped onto the main floor, the smell of food made his stomach growl. He decided to go grab a sandwich and return later. First, he checked the bulletin board, and observed no event had been scheduled for today, so that would help keep the traffic down. Making his way toward the front door, he noticed the large room stood empty of residents who usually lingered and chatted after dinner. He figured they'd gone directly to their rooms.

When he went outside, the wind had died down considerably. At least he wouldn't have to hold onto his hat, or end up chasing it across the parking lot. He drove to a fast food place, ordered a hamburger, fries, and soda to go. Deciding to eat on the premises, he found a vacant slot at the front of the building and parked.

As he headed back to Morning Glory Haven, he tried to evaluate what he'd learned so far. It made him a little on edge to know Maggie had insulin in her room, and he wouldn't be there to protect her. He realized the murderer could be diabetic, and have plenty of insulin on hand to carry out a horrible deed. If he or she wasn't diabetic, they'd have to get the insulin from another source. George seemed to lose his pens or mess up a dose fairly often, and Hawkman doubted Maggie kept track of the amount on hand except when it got low. How many people had she complained to about her husband's carelessness?

If the guilty party had heard her rants, and observed her behavior, the person would know how often she left the room. Now, with George her only guardian, it wouldn't take long for the perp to discover things were back to normal. The minute the Hamptons disappeared down the hallway, it would only take a minute to pick the lock on Maggie's quarters, and take the insulin without ever getting caught.

Hawkman decided to talk to Detective Williams about checking the amount of insulin the diabetics had stored in their apartments against a next day count, minus what they'd used; then they'd know if any had disappeared. It would also help in knowing who had insulin available. It might help in tracking down the culprit. He was willing to try anything, as he didn't want another unnecessary death to occur. These people deserved every day of life they could muster.

When he reached Morning Glory Haven, he immediately went to find Williams, only to find the door locked. Searching through the first floor, he came across an officer guarding the corridor and asked where the detective had gone.

"He was called out on an emergency and should be back shortly,” he said.

"Are the residents cooperating?"

"So far, except for the Hampton woman on the second floor. She doesn't want to stay in her quarters."

Hawkman suppressed a grin. “Figures. Where does she want to go?"

"I walked with her up and down the hallway as she knocked on almost every door and said goodnight."

"Sounds mighty calm so far. By the way, do you know if Detective Williams got a list of the diabetics?"

"Yes, he got them on all floors and we've talked with each person. They all keep extra insulin in their rooms. We recorded the amounts and the detective has the information in his files."

"Good. How about Maggie Hampton?"

He nodded.

Since Williams had already gotten the information, he didn't need to bother Maggie again. She didn't appear in the best of moods, and he didn't particularly care about hearing her tirade again. He headed toward the front door and since the lab had found sleep inducing chemicals in Mrs. Owens’ body, he wondered if she'd taken an extra dose on her own? He needed to talk to her daughter. Tomorrow he'd speak to Ms. Montgomery and ask if Sidney Wilder had come to pick up her mother's things yet.

His thoughts were interrupted when he spotted Detective Williams hurrying toward the makeshift headquarters. He motioned for Hawkman to follow. After turning on the lights, Williams flopped down in the chair at the table and opened the file he had in his hands.

"I received the full autopsy report on Gladys Owens. We now have the brand of insulin administered. The problem is, it's very popular and every pharmacy in town carries it, plus the mail-in places where it would be almost impossible to check, unless we found a receipt."

"Did the report tell what kind of sleeping aid they found? Hawkman asked.

"Yes, a prescription drug called Halcion. Very strong medication. I'm going to check with her physician and see if it was prescribed."

"She must have had trouble getting a good night's rest."

Williams nodded. “Sure sounds like it."

"Have you scheduled a follow up on the insulin each person has in his or her personal stash?"

"Yes, we'll compare it with the record we have each day, minus new prescriptions and the amount used."

"Good. Of course, until we have another death, which I hate to think about, we might not find our scoundrel."

"Unless we can catch the perp in the act."

Hawkman rose. “I'm going to call it a night and head out of here. I'll see you in the morning."

Williams raked his fingers across the stubble on his chin. “Soon as the fresh crew checks in, I hope to take off, get a shower and a few winks of sleep myself."

"See ya tomorrow."

Hawkman left the building, climbed into his SUV and journeyed home.

Tuesday morning, Hawkman arrived at his office before the donut baker had the ovens fired up. He made a pot of coffee and sat down at his desk to go over the Hamptons’ financial statement. After writing out the hours Kevin had documented and his part of the fee, he discovered George would owe about five hundred extra dollars over the initial payment. He leaned back in his chair and wondered if Maggie had figured this out herself, and decided they'd paid him enough. Grinning at the thought, he wrote out a check for Kevin, addressed an envelope, and planned to mail it on his way to Morning Glory Haven. He tucked the invoice for George into his pocket and had just unplugged the coffee urn when the phone rang.

Punching on the speaker, he gave his usual greeting.

"Hawkman, Detective Williams. I'm glad you're at the office. I need your help in trying to talk some sense into your ex-client."

"The Hamptons?"

"Yeah, the Mrs., she's a spitfire and won't cooperate with my officers."

"Okay, I'll be right over, but not sure I can do any good. Is George there yet?"

"No, and I can't reach him on the phone. Tried several times, but no answer."

Hawkman frowned. “That's odd. He's usually there by now. I think I'll run by his place and check on him."

"You think there might be a problem?"

"He's diabetic and not good about checking his blood sugar. His doctor told me he worried about him. I better make sure he's okay. Has Maggie tried to reach him?"

"Yeah, but she doesn't seem too concerned. Says he might be in the shower or running an errand."

"I'll be there after I run by his place."

Hawkman hurried out of the office and drove to the Hamptons’ home. When he pulled up in front, he noticed the white Cadillac sitting in the driveway and not tucked in the garage. “Looks like he's been out this morning,” he mumbled, heading for the entry.

He heard Pesky barking as the doorbell chimed. It sounded as if she was running back and forth for George to hurry.