Angels in Disguise (26 page)

"I know I'm right. If you like, I'll talk to Sam."

"It's okay, I'll tell him.” She got up and traipsed toward the bedroom. “Think I'll shed this wig, it's a bit heavy."

"Aw shucks, thought you'd wear it as your everyday attire."

She turned and stuck out her tongue. “I think not."

When she returned, she had on a scarf tied at the nape of her neck.

"How's the hair shedding?"

"It's coming out in gobs. I'd say in a couple of days it will all be gone. It feels so weird. And that isn't the only hair I'm losing."

"Oh?"

"Don't ask.” She picked up the camera and headed for the computer. “I'm dying to see these pictures. If they come out good, I'll send some copies to Sam. He'll get a kick out of them."

"She sat for a moment, then giggled. “Come here and look. They turned out great."

Hawkman moved behind her and peered over her shoulder. “Those are a riot,” he chortled. “Sam will love them. And you play the role of a clown perfectly."

"I'll print them out later. Right now I want to hear about your day."

"Okay, talk to me while I fix dinner."

"You're really spoiling me, taking over the cooking like you have."

"I figure it's hard enough for you to eat, much less trying to prepare it. It's the least I can do and I enjoy fixing the meals."

She reached up and gave him a kiss. “You're a sweetheart. I thank you for being so thoughtful."

Hawkman unwrapped the filet mignon steaks and held them up. “How do these grab you?"

"Yummy.” She settled on one of the kitchen bar stools. “Okay, tell me about your trip to town."

"Had an interesting day. Talked with Paul and all is well with the family. Delia is keeping a close eye on Tiffany and nothing threatening has occurred."

"That's good."

"I dropped by Withers’ butcher shop to pick up the steaks, and Tulip is holding down the fort. I asked how the two jobs were going. She told me tiring, but things were under control. I thought it odd her having to cut up the meat during business hours, when her dad always seemed to have it done ahead of time."

"Well, she can't stay at her father's store after hours as she has to go to her restaurant job,” Jennifer said. “And she probably doesn't want to get up at four in the morning to do the carving."

"She's staying out at Hank's place taking care of his animals, so I asked if he had a freezer."

"Hank has pets?"

Hawkman nodded. “Yeah, shocked me too. He has a cat, dog and of all things a bird of some sort. Tulip said they were really spoiled and liked a routine."

"Why would you be interested whether he has a freezer or not?"

He scrubbed the potatoes, and placed them in the microwave. “I thought maybe she could prepare the meat at the house, but obviously he doesn't have any equipment there and does all the butchering at the shop. She said he didn't have a freezer at home, only the one in the refrigerator."

Jennifer cocked her head and stared dubiously at Hawkman as he took out the salad makings and cutting board.

"Am I not doing this right?"

"It has nothing to do with your preparations, it's what you just said."

"Oh, and may I ask what I said that sparked your interest?"

"Why are you so concerned about Hank's freezers?"

He avoided looking at her. “Curiosity, I guess."

She narrowed her eyes. “You're not telling me everything."

"You're right. But I'm not sure I'm ready to tell you my theory. Let's wait until after dinner and we'll talk more."

"I'm not going to let you forget."

After dinner, they migrated to the living room, and Hawkman flipped on the television.

"Not yet,” Jennifer said, turning it off. “We're going to talk some more."

He gave her a playful shake. “You do have the memory of an elephant."

"But first I want to tell you, I enjoyed that meal tremendously. Thank you."

"You're more than welcome. Glad it agreed with you."

She snuggled down in her chair and covered herself with an afghan. “Okay, tell me why you're so interested in Hank's freezers."

"Look at you, even the word makes you cold."

"Oh, stop it, you know I've been freezing ever since I started this stupid chemo. Come on, quit stalling."

His expression turned solemn. “This is just my thought, in fact, I hope I'm wrong. But I think Carlotta's been butchered and her body stored in a freezer."

Jennifer's mouth dropped open. “Oh my God!"

Hawkman settled in his chair and raised both hands, palms out. “Now, don't get overly excited. This is only a guess."

"But how did you ever come to such a morbid conclusion?"

He counted off on his fingers. “For one thing, we've found no body. Another, there's no record of Carlotta leaving on a plane, bus or taxi. Thirdly, no one outside Medford has seen or heard from her. And fourth, we have a suitcase full of her clothes with fingerprints all over it. Now, all of a sudden a suspected purse shows up in the hands of Tulip. And she tells us her dad gave it to her as a birthday present."

"That handbag could've come from anywhere, but go on, I can tell there's more."

"No police record of Carlotta Ryan involved in any accidents, and she's not been admitted into any local hospital with amnesia. It also seems odd to me, she hasn't tried to make contact with her daughter, regardless of what type of mother people may consider her. In my opinion, the woman's dead."

Jennifer sighed. “It makes sense. But tell me what gives you the idea Hank Withers might be involved? Other than Tulip's statement he gave her the Gucci. Did he have a motive to kill Carlotta?"

"Yes, he'd like to see his daughter married to Paul."

Jennifer's gazed at the ceiling and exhaled loudly. “You've got to be kidding! I doubt a good-looking man like Paul would give Tulip a second look."

"Hard to say. He might want a normal mother for his daughter instead of a high-fashion model, someone who would treat her like a growing child instead of an adult."

"Did Paul tell you this?"

Hawkman shook his head. “No. Those are my own ideas coming from what I've observed."

Jennifer pulled the afghan up around her neck. “Tell me how Paul has reacted to Carlotta's disappearance."

He pursed his lips. “I guess like any man. Disappointed and scared. But remember, he's been separated from her for some time and living in his own apartment. Not like they were living together as man and wife under the same roof."

"Did you ever inform him Carlotta had been to see a lawyer about a divorce?"

"No, because Ms. Phillips hadn't even started the paperwork. She spent a lot of time trying to persuade the woman to see a marriage counselor before making a decision. The papers hadn't been drawn up, so I figured Paul didn't need such news right after his wife's disappearance."

"What if he did find out beforehand and knew Carlotta would wipe him out financially if she followed through?” She raised her brows. “Maybe he got rid of her.” She leaned forward. “And then there's Delia. A strange grandmother with a weird reading taste for her age. Didn't you tell me she could hardly stand her daughter-in-law? Maybe Carlotta's buried under one of those strange statues around the pool you described.” Jennifer shivered. “Makes me even colder when I think of all the people with motives."

About that time Hawkman's cell phone rang. He glanced at the clock. Who'd be calling at ten thirty at night? Snatching it from his belt, he put it to his ear.

"Hello."

A woman's sobbing voice came over the line.

"Slow down, I can't understand you. Who is this?"

"It's Delia. Tiffany's gone."

Hawkman jumped out of his chair. “What do you mean, she's gone?"

"Princess dashed out the front door when a neighbor came by to return some books. And ... and Tiffany flew out the door after the cat before I could stop her."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"About an hour ago. We've called the police."

"Are they there?"

"Yes, and they've searched the entire area and found no sign of her or the cat. We've checked with all the neighbors and no one has seen anything. What are we going to do?” Delia cried.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Get a hold of yourself. We'll find her."

Hawkman hung up and headed for the front door.

"Wait,” Jennifer threw off the afghan and hurried to his side. “What's happened?"

He quickly gave her a run down of Delia's story. “I don't know when I'll be back. Will you be okay?"

Jennifer gave him a slight push. “Of course, just go. Oh, my. I hope you find her."

"The child could be up in a tree after her precious Princess or crawling through a storm drain after her. Let's pray she'll have returned home by the time I get there."

On the freeway to Medford, Hawkman pushed the accelerator as fast as he dared. He didn't need to be pulled over, but he sure didn't want to waste any time either. When he reached Delia's house, black and whites were parked on both sides of the street. The front yard, bathed in light, stood out from the neighboring homes. Just as he stepped out of his vehicle, an ambulance swerved around the corner and came to a screeching halt in front. His heart skipped a beat as he hurried to the entry ahead of the paramedics. When Paul opened the door, his face had the eerie look of a ghost as he directed the emergency crew into the living room. Delia lay on the couch, her skin ashen as the men and women surrounded her with their load of equipment.

"What going on?” Hawkman asked.

Paul pulled him aside and whispered. “She passed out on me. Scared me half to death. I don't know if she's having a heart attack or the stress has gotten to her."

"Where are the police?"

They're combing the area, but so far have found nothing.

"Is Detective Williams with them?"

"Yes. He's helping with the search.” He glanced toward Delia. “I think mother feels guilty for letting Tiffany out of her sight for those few minutes."

One of the paramedics moved toward Paul. “Are you the one who called?"

"Yes, I'm her son."

"Has she been under some stress?"

"Yes. My ten year old daughter has disappeared."

The man put his fist on his hips. “I see. That pretty much explains it. According to the EKG, we don't suspect a heart attack at this time, but she seems very distraught. Does she have any tranquilizers in the house?"

Paul peered over at his mother and threw up his hands. “I haven't any idea."

"I don't see any need to take her into the hospital, but I do suggest you reach her doctor right away and get something to relax her."

"Thanks, I'll do that."

The young man moved back to Delia's side, and Hawkman turned to Paul.

"I'm going out to do a little combing of the area myself. It doesn't appear like you're going to get much rest tonight. I'll return and let you know if I find anything."

Paul rubbed the back of his neck. “I'd appreciate it. I wanted to go out with Detective Williams, but he thought it best I stay here at the house in case Tiffany tried to call.” He gestured toward Delia. “And also to be with Mom. I'm going to try and get her to bed, but I doubt I'll have much luck."

Hawkman patted him on the shoulder. “I'll get back to you soon, either in person or by phone.” He hurried to his vehicle. Driving around the block, Hawkman spotted several uniformed men going from house to house, but didn't see Williams. Searching each side as he drove down the street, he came to a sudden stop when he noticed a small carcass on the edge of the pavement. He grabbed the flashlight from the glove compartment and jumped out of the truck. To his relief, he discovered a squirrel had met its fate, and not Princess. He widened the area to several blocks surrounding Delia's residence, but found no clues to what had happened to Tiffany or her cat.

He drove back to the house and spotted Williams getting out of his car. Hawkman quickly parked, and hurried toward the entry to catch up with the detective. “Williams, hold up,” he called, trying not to be too loud and wake the neighbors.

The detective swiveled on his heel. “Hawkman, when did you get here?"

"An hour or so ago. I've been driving around to see if you guys missed anything. I hope you have good news."

Williams face showed nothing but gloom. “You know how hard it is to tell a father and grandmother that we have no idea what's happened to their child. There's not a person in this neighborhood who saw Tiffany."

Hawkman looked back toward the street. “Boy, that's hard to believe. Usually a lot of people walk in the evening or take out their dogs."

"Unfortunately, this all happened between nine-thirty and ten o'clock. People usually walk before dark, and are inside watching the news by then. Mrs. Ryan said she'd just stopped by Tiffany's room and scolded her for not being ready for bed when her friend stopped by to return some books. The cat followed her down the hall and when she opened the door the feline hightailed it outside. I guess Tiffany went screaming after the animal. Mrs. Ryan, being preoccupied, couldn't chase her down. A bad set of events taking place all at once."

"Did Delia go out after the person left?"

"Yes, but she couldn't find any sign of the child or the cat."

"How much time had elapsed?"

"Not more than fifteen minutes, she says."

"And she didn't see any cars or anything suspicious?” Hawkman asked.

"She was focused on the child and not much else. That's why the woman is in such a state of panic right now. She feels it's all her fault."

"You know Paul had to call the paramedics?"

"Yes, I checked in with him shortly after they came.” Williams scratched the back of his head. “You got any ideas?"

Hawkman grumbled. “My main suspect is back east for a couple of weeks or longer visiting a sick relative. You think we've got some outsider who happened to see a little girl out in the night?"

Williams scowled and hit his fist into the other hand. “I hate to think it, but that's how it appears."

"How was Tiffany dressed?"

"In a nightgown."

Hawkman kicked a pebble and sent it skittering across the sidewalk. “Dear God, that makes things even worse."