The Archer [Book 13 of the Hawkman Series] (2 page)

"Hi, Mom."

She listened for a moment, then smiled. “Okay, I'll put it on my list. I made a stop before heading for the store. Took me a little longer than I planned, so I'll be a few minutes late getting home. Talk to you later."

Sliding the phone back into her pack, she scrutinized the area, but didn't see anything suspicious, so climbed out of her car, locked it up and went inside. While pushing the cart down the aisles, she felt a sudden shiver down her spine. She quickly jerked her head around and surveyed the people shopping. No one seemed interested in her choice of bananas. She felt paranoid and shook her head as she continued examining a pile of onions. This feeling couldn't take over or she'd go crazy.

Soon, she had everything needed, plus a few extras, and headed for the cashier's line. She paid for the groceries with the cash her mother had given her and pushed the cart out the automatic door. When she reached her car and unlocked the trunk, the same feeling traveled down her back. Her gaze darted around the parking lot, but she saw nothing frightening. Rolling the rickety cart to a holding place, she hurried back to her vehicle and headed for home.

The road turned to dirt about a mile from her residence and she kept an eye on the rearview mirror. No one appeared to be following her and she relaxed as she made the turn into the long driveway. Laura loved this place, and didn't want to think of ever having to leave it. She smiled to herself as she viewed the old two-story farm house, which stood out on the hilltop like a mansion. Her folks had refurbished it throughout the years, and this past summer she'd helped them spray a coat of fresh paint on the outside. The sun glistened off the panes of each window, and the new oak front door looked majestic.

She parked at the back, and began toting in the bags of groceries. Her mother held open the screen door, and took each one, placing them on the kitchen table as Laura carried them up the three steps. She soon had everything unloaded and helped her mom put things away. They made small talk as they worked. When they finished, Violet King put on the tea kettle and the two sat at the table enjoying the treat.

Laura studied her mom and realized how she'd aged. Her hair had turned white and unfortunately, it had a yellow cast to it. She'd tried to talk her into trying a blue or silver shampoo, but her mom hadn't reached the point of taking her up on it yet, using the excuse she had a lot of old shampoo to use up first. The crows feet and smile wrinkles had deepened the last couple of years, and Laura hated to see her mother's lovely features lose their beauty.

"Okay, you girls, quit your gabbing in there and get your old man some dinner."

Both women laughed.

"Okay, Dad,” Laura said. “Hot dogs for you tonight."

He never failed to grumble when they hit him with the words of a meager dinner. Olly King poked his head into the kitchen. “You are teasing aren't you? I can smell something much better cooking."

Violet ducked her head, put fingers to her mouth and giggled. “Laura, you're so mean to your father.” She then glanced at her husband. “There's a roast in the oven; should be ready in about a half hour, if you're willing to wait. Otherwise, we can fix you a hot dog."

He raised both his hands. “I'll wait, I'll wait.” He then turned back toward the living room where he had the television blasting the news.

"Mom, why don't we get Dad a hearing aid for his birthday? He's turning up the sound louder each day. Soon, he'll run us out of the house, and we'll have to go to the barn to carry on a conversation."

Violet rose from her chair, and patted her daughter's shoulder. “I'd buy one tomorrow, if I thought he'd wear it. You know your dad. He's as stubborn as a mule."

Laura helped her mother fix supper, then set the table and the three had a delightful meal. She observed her father from across the table and had the same thoughts about him as she did concerning her mother earlier. They're growing old. What will I do without them?

The family soon retired and Laura went upstairs to her bedroom. She sat at the window with a literature book propped on her lap, and looked out over the fields in the bright moonlight. Her mind wandered to the man harassing her. Who would do it and why? She wracked her brain trying to remember anyone she'd had a beef with or any old boyfriend. None came to her mind. The only beau she'd had ran off and married her best girlfriend. He certainly couldn't blame her. As far as she knew, they'd moved to another state and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of them since their wedding.

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Driving home, Hawkman couldn't get Laura Aubrey King out of his thoughts. The girl seemed sincere. He'd never been able to figure out the way women think, so he decided to get his wife, Jennifer's, opinion on the situation. She seemed pretty good at analyzing such incidents.

After dinner, Hawkman and Jennifer sat in the living room in their matching chairs. The fireplace crackled and Miss Marple had stretched out on Jennifer's lap. He glanced at the cat.

"Good grief, her purring is getting louder the older she gets."

"She's just happy and warm,” Jennifer said as she ran her hand down the feline's back.

Hawkman leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “I need your perspective on something."

Jennifer turned off the television and faced him. “Sure. What about?"

He told the story of how Laura literally fell into his office, then what she'd told him.

"I'm not sure I believe her."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Women can be devious, either wanting attention or just flat right out lying to see your reaction."

"What do you know about her?"

Hawkman related what little he'd learned and had checked the phone book, but wasn't sure exactly if he'd located the right Kings. “She told me she'd not confided in her parents over the situation for fear they'd blame her for the man making the advances. Doesn't it sound a bit weird?"

"Not really. The girl told you she had an older sister and brother, who had moved out years ago. So obviously, she came along later in their lives, making her folks quite a bit older than the norm. They've instilled certain behaviors in her and she realizes they might not understand the situation. Also, she's a country girl; they are much more inclined to be truthful. They have a different outlook on things from the city girls."

Hawkman nodded.

Jennifer raised a hand in the air. “However, if you decide to protect this young woman, you might have to touch base with the parents. I'd suggest you and Laura meet them together; that way, you can explain how her actions might not have had anything to do with this man's harassing."

"Good idea. I'm hoping this guy saw me walk out to her car. It might make him back off."

Jennifer frowned. “Or make it worse, if he's jealous. You can never tell about an idiot."

He raised a brow. “True."

"Did she mention any old boyfriends?"

"Said she didn't have any."

Jennifer wrinkled her forehead. “Dig deeper. This sort of sounds like a scorned lover. I can't imagine a twenty year old woman without some man in her past."

He flopped back in the chair and threw up his hands. “All I need is some romance case to delve into."

Jennifer laughed. “It'll be good for you. I'm sure you won't get a penny for it either."

Hawkman shook his head and grinned. “She's already told me she doesn't have any money."

She leaned over and patted his leg. “We've had a good year, so a charity case is okay, and this girl might be well worth it."

Hawkman sat at his desk in the Medford office and had just spoken with a client on his cell phone. When he finished, he placed the small instrument on the wood surface while writing down some notes. Not expecting a call, he jumped when it suddenly rang. He grabbed it and placed the ear piece to the side of his head.

"Tom Casey."

The sound of a woman's hysterical voice pierced his ear. When he recognized Laura's voice, he dropped his pencil and stood.

"Where are you?"

Snatching his hat off the nail next to his work area, he shoved it onto his head and raced out the door. “Do you feel safe enough to stay there?"

He yanked open the SUV door and jumped inside. “I'm on my way.” When the engine turned over, he gunned out of the alley and made a sharp right turn. Knowing the area, he drove down the street parallel to Main, turned into an alley and came out in front of Laura's green Toyota Celica parked in front of the store she'd named. He leaped out and ran to the driver's side where Laura was slumped over the steering wheel. Not knowing if she was hurt, he tried the door, only to find it locked. He knocked on the window and called her name. She raised her head and looked at him with red rimmed eyes, then quickly vaulted from the car, falling into his arms.

"Oh, Mr. Casey, I'm so scared."

He led her to his vehicle and helped her into the passenger side. Once he climbed behind the steering wheel, he pulled away and parked in a neighboring store's parking lot. He glanced around to make sure no one had followed, then turned toward her. “What happened?"

Her voice shook as she spoke. “He called again. This time he told me he had to have me. If I didn't come to him, he'd get my mother.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Hawkman frowned. “I don't like this, Laura. Where did he tell you to meet him?"

"He said he'd call later and give me the time and place."

"We're going to have to talk to your folks. They have to be aware of what's happening, so they can be on guard."

She took a used tissue and dabbed her eyes. “I can't tell them about these horrible messages. They'll think I'm a terrible girl and have done something to warrant them."

"I don't think they'll come to such a conclusion. Regardless, we're going to have to take the chance. I'll go with you. Maybe they'll see things a little differently if a private investigator is at your side."

She glanced at him. “I don't know, they're pretty stubborn."

"We've got to convince them that you've done nothing wrong."

Reluctantly, she nodded. “I can't bear the thought of this person mentioning my mother in such a horrible way. She's old and I couldn't bear something happening to her. I love my folks dearly."

"All the more reason we've got to talk to them."

She looked at him with fear in her eyes. “When?"

"As soon as possible."

"You mean today?"

"Yes."

Laura bit her lower lip, as she clenched her hands in her lap. “I'm not sure I'm ready. Besides, I told Mom I'd pick up her list of groceries after my class."

"I'll take you back to your car, follow you to the store, then you can lead me out to your house."

She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “You sure don't leave me much choice."

"If we talk to your folks, it'll prove you're telling me the truth about these episodes."

"I had the feeling you didn't believe me. My story sounds absurd, but I'll swear to God it's true."

Hawkman turned on the ignition. “Okay, let's go back to your car. After you finish shopping we'll go to your house."

She nodded. “Okay."

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When Laura came out of the grocery store, Hawkman helped her load the bags into the car. As he returned from rolling the cart to a holding cage, he found her still standing outside the vehicle, her expression clouded.

"Are you having second thoughts about talking to your folks?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, but I realize I'm going to have to confide in them eventually. It just worries me."

"Letting them know what's happening is better than leaving them in the dark. They need to be made aware of the situation."

Laura sighed and unlocked the car door, then climbed inside. “Okay, follow me."

As Hawkman tailed her through town and past the city limits, he tried to analyze the young woman's personality. She seemed reserved and mature, not like a bubbly teenager. It appeared she'd grown up under strict rules guided by her parents. However, he realized he'd only seen her under stressful circumstances. He didn't have the vaguest idea what she might be like among her peers.

He glanced around the countryside as they bounced off the pavement onto a dirt road. The homes were scattered several miles apart, each with their own acreage. After about two miles, Laura turned into a gravel driveway and drove up to a neat looking

two-story frame house. She pulled around to the back, but Hawkman decided the gentlemanly thing to do was park in the front. He hoped both parents were in the house, as sometimes the men stayed in the fields until dark.

Laura trotted around the corner, with a bag of groceries in her arms, and motioned for Hawkman to follow her up the stairs of the front porch. She pushed open the door, and led him into a modest, neat living room, decorated with spindle-legged furniture, faded floral upholstery, and crocheted doilies adorning the backs of each piece. Family pictures in metal frames were lined up on end tables and propped on a book shelf made into the wall. He could hear a television blasting the world news from a nearby room.

"Mom, Dad, I've brought a visitor,” Laura called, putting the sack on the couch.

Mrs. King came out of the kitchen, removed her apron, dropped it on the back of a chair, smoothed out her hair on each side and stood in the doorway. Laura scurried past her.

"I'll get Dad,” she said, touching her mother's shoulder.

Hawkman noticed the older woman seemed a bit nervous as she clasped her hands in front of her and kept glancing over her shoulder. She had a gentle face, with smile wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Her short white hair had a tinge of yellow, and appeared to have a natural wave as it turned under near the collar line. She had a stout build, but not big, probably a woman who'd spent time in the fields. Her dress appeared homemade with a small pastel blue and white stripe, mid-sleeved, and hung to mid-calf. She wore slip-on shoes with a thick rubber sole, and warm socks which would not only protect her feet from hours of standing, but keep them warm from a drafty floor.