Read In for the Kill [Hawkman Series Book 9] Online
Authors: Betty Sullivan La Pierre
This one had some duplications, but the lip balm, blister pads and moleskin could come in handy, along with tissues, Handiwipes, surgical gloves and a Mini Maglite. It appeared complete, so he zipped it closed and pushed the two to the corner of the desk. He leaned over toward the cat. “Okay, Miss nosey, you want to see what I have up here?"
She came to her feet and stretched, then meandered over so he could pick her up. He placed her in his lap. She put her front paws on the top of the desk, looked around, then jumped to the floor and stalked out of the room.
Hawkman guffawed. “Not near as interesting as you thought.” He came out of the office laughing as he closed the door behind him.
Jennifer glanced up as she squatted in front of one of the kitchen cabinets. “What's so funny?"
"Miss Marple."
"She can definitely make a person smile with her antics."
He glanced at the counter and picked up some envelopes. “When did you get the mail?"
"A few minutes ago. Don't tell me I'm not allowed to walk to the mailbox?"
"You should be okay in broad daylight with Peggy patrolling the area, but don't count on it. Just make sure you have your gun and take notice of your surroundings."
"Don't worry, you've instilled those instructions into my brain. There wasn't a soul around, not even Peggy."
"It might be best you go right at noon, when everyone is heading for the box to pick up their mail. There's safety in numbers."
"You're probably right. Tomorrow I'll make it a point to go when the neighbors are there."
The jangle of the phone interrupted their conversation. They each looked at one another, then shot a glance toward the instrument.
"I'm ready to unplug that blasted thing,” Jennifer mumbled.
"I'd like to speak with Jim, uh, excuse me, Tom Casey. This is Ray Skokie. Would you please call me..."
Before he could give the number, Hawkman picked up the receiver. “Hello, Ray, this is Tom Casey."
Hawkman replaced the phone and glanced at Jennifer leaning against the counter.
"I couldn't make heads or tails out of the conversation, you didn't say much,” she said.
"Ray wants to come out here next week and help me search for his dad."
"You think that's a good idea?"
"He's very crippled and if we go into the hills. I'm afraid he'll slow me down considerably."
"Maybe he's more agile than you think. After all these years, he might have adjusted to his handicap."
Hawkman rubbed a hand along the back of his neck and grimaced. “I doubt it; the man's leg was badly maimed. I'm not sure if he has an artificial one or they just repaired the limb. But regardless, it's rough terrain and I doubt he could manipulate it very well."
"You're not really sure Jack Hargrove is in the hills, are you?"
"No, I'm not. But lots of evidence points to it. And I have a feeling he's not far away. Since you saw that jeep going toward Topsy Grade and I never saw a sign of it when I came down the road. My guess is he's making his camp close."
She tapped the counter top with her fingernails. “I have a feeling you're right. He wants to be near enough to give us a hard time without having to travel a long distance."
"Plus, if he stole the Willys jeep, he'll keep it hidden and only use it in case he needs a getaway vehicle. Taking into account Rita's and Clyde's description, the man's obviously in good shape. After all, he was with the Agency, and worked in the field, so he'll know how to survive. I figure he'll be on foot most of the time."
Jennifer folded her arms across her waist. “So what's your plan? I hope you're including Ken."
Hawkman shrugged. “I want to find Jack before Skokie gets here."
"How long do you think it'll take? Are you going to be so far away you can't return home in the evening?"
"I don't know, but I won't stop searching, so I might be gone overnight."
"What will you do if you find his hiding place?"
"Nothing. I'll leave, then take Skokie there when he arrives and let him try to talk some sense into his dad. But if Jack discovers me sneaking around and tries anything foolish, I'll have to take him down. I don't want to kill the man, but I might not have a choice."
Jennifer silently crossed the kitchen, bent down in front of the cabinet and removed a couple of items. “I have two flip top cans of pork and beans. Would you like me to pack those?"
"Yes, thanks. I won't need a lot of food, but I'll exert plenty of energy hiking around, and it'll be nice having something to munch."
The next morning, Hawkman went into Medford and stopped by the police station. He poked his head around the door jamb of Detective Williams’ office. “Didn't know if I'd find you in, but took a chance."
"Same old stuff. My autograph is really in demand lately. I'm beginning to feel like a movie star."
Hawkman snickered. “I don't think it's quite the same."
"Boy, you sure know how to break a guy's bubble. I was beginning to like the job again.” He tossed his pen on the desk and leaned back. “Now that you've ruined my day, what can I do for you?"
"Wondered if you'd had any stolen vehicle reports?"
"Let me make a quick call.'’ He moved forward, picked up the phone and punched in an extension. “Maggie, Detective Williams. Anything new on stolen vehicles?” He glanced up and whispered. “She's checking."
Hawkman nodded.
"Yeah, thanks. Make a copy and send it over.” He hung up. “You might find this one of interest. By the way, Ken Bronson called this morning and told me you had a talk with him and Peggy. He also wanted to know about Hargrove."
"I like the feeling of having more eyes on the house. I don't like Jennifer there alone."
In a few minutes, a skinny middle-aged woman walked into the office. “Here you go, detective."
"Thanks, Maggie."
He looked it over, then handed the report to Hawkman, who read the description aloud. “A 1954 CJ3B red Willys jeep stolen from the driveway at...” He didn't have to read the rest as he figured the jeep had been spotted at Copco Lake. “I think this is the one Jennifer saw. I haven't spotted it yet, but the description fits. Can I take this printout?"
"Sure. The license plate number is listed, along with all the extras. You think our hit and run man has it?"
"Very probable. I think he's hiding in the hills. I'm going to see if I can find him."
"Let me know, and we'll contact the Bronsons to go capture our villain and recover the vehicle."
"Will do. Thanks, Williams."
Hawkman decided not to tell the detective about Jack's stepson just yet. He left the station, stopped by the grocery store, then headed home.
He parked in the garage, then stumbled inside with his arms laden with sacks. Jennifer quickly grabbed them and put the perishables away.
"So did Williams have anything to report?"
"Yeah, a stolen red jeep. I've got the picture here in my pocket. I want you to take a gander at it and tell me if it resembles the one you saw,” he said, handing her the paper.
She examined the copy. “Yes. It looks just like it. So when do you plan on taking off for the hills?"
"As soon as I can get ready."
He went to the bedroom, changed into hiking boots, and a long sleeved shirt. After fastening his shoulder holster back around his chest, he took a small bedroll from his closet, tucked it inside the backpack along with the stun gun and a box of extra shells for his Beretta Cougar. He decided to wear a medium weight jacket as the nights turned cool. Picking up his sunglasses, he zipped them into the pocket.
He carried the backpack into the kitchen where Jennifer loaded it with sandwiches and water bottles. Miss Marple stood at his feet, but didn't attempt to rub against his boots. In fact, she sneezed and shook her head.
Jennifer laughed. “I don't think she likes your different footwear."
"Probably because of the wild scent. She's a house baby and doesn't recognize the smell."
"Maybe it will make her like me better."
He grinned as he closed and buckled the pack. “I want you to drive me up to fishing access three. I've got a hunch about where Jack might be hanging out."
"Really, where?"
"On the south side of the road, about a half mile into those hills. There's a deserted, run-down shack, and it's well hidden from the road. Sam and I found it on one of our hikes. If I remember right, there's also an old trail a jeep could probably maneuver. I know of two or three vacated places in the area, but I'm going to check out this one first."
She placed the walkie-talkies on the counter. “I've loaded these with new batteries and would feel a lot more comfortable if you took one. I won't try to contact you, but you can call me if you get into any kind of trouble."
"Good idea, I'd forgotten about them.” He placed one in a Velcro fastened pocket of the backpack. “Okay, I think I've got everything, so let's hit the road."
Jennifer dropped him off at the specified spot, made a U-turn and watched him climb up the steep bank. When he disappeared over the crest, she sighed and headed home. She spotted Peggy parked on the road near the house and pulled alongside .
"Where's Hawkman?” Peggy asked. “I saw the two of you leave together."
"I just dropped him off up in the hills. I wanted him to talk with Ken first, but he seemed set on doing this alone. He doesn't want to confront Hargrove, he just wants to find him before Jack's son gets here. Hawkman hopes to take him to his dad and maybe a son to father talk will bring Jack to his senses."
Peggy studied Jennifer, her smoky blue eyes questioning the story. “You say Hargrove's son is coming?"
"Yes."
"That's odd."
"Why don't you come over to the house and I'll tell you about it over a cup of coffee."
"Good idea."
She followed Jennifer home and parked in the driveway.
"You sure look sharp in your uniform,” Jennifer said, deactivating the alarm and opening the door.
"Thanks.” She walked straight to the phone and called Dispatch. “I'm 10-6. Here's the phone number.” After hanging up, she sat down at the kitchen bar. Okay, tell me about this son
Jennifer poured them a cup of coffee and sat opposite Peggy, then related the story about Ray Skokie.
"So, he's a stepson raised by Jack?"
"Yes."
Peggy scowled. “They must have been very close, yet something about the story doesn't fit."
Jennifer raised her brows. “What?"
"Not sure, can't put my finger on it. But I'll think about this turn of events and talk to Ken. I'll get his reaction and get back to you. By the way, has Hawkman got some way to contact you if he gets into trouble?"
"Yes, he's got a walkie-talkie."
"Good, if you get any distress signals, contact me immediately.” Peggy stood and headed for the door. “Lock up,” she yelled over her shoulder.
Jennifer waved, shut the door, set the alarm, closed the drapes, then picked up Miss Marple and cuddled the cat in her lap. Blowing out a breath of air which rippled her bangs, she settled in for what she figured would be a forty-eight hour prison term.
Hawkman continued to climb and felt the tension in his legs. The forest had thickened and the trees grown quite tall since he and Sam discovered this hideout several years ago during one of their hikes. If he found the old place still standing, at least he'd have an advantage of staying hidden.
He ducked behind a row of bushes and got his bearings. If his memory served him right, the shack stood huddled in a stand of trees several yards ahead.
Even though he saw no evidence of jeep tracks in the grass, he skirted close to the tree line, and stayed in the shadows as he surveyed the area. When he spotted a pile of fallen lumber among the big oaks, he hesitated, then moved closer, and cautiously ventured inside the grove. There he discovered the small building had rotted and toppled over. No way could it be used for any type of shelter. He sat down on a partially decaying stump, took out one of the water bottles, and calculated his next move.
He still had plenty of light, and decided to go east toward Topsy Grade. There were several buildings still standing near the ruins of the old hotel and hot springs. Hawkman figured Hargrove wouldn't want to be spotted, and some of the structures were too close to the road. But he remembered a few shacks deeper into the hills, used by workmen during the era when the recreation area thrived. Some of those might still be usable, and could be easily reached by the jeep. Also, there'd be plenty of places to hide the vehicle.
He soon topped a hill overlooking the back of the hotel. Plopping down on the ground at the base of a big oak, he studied the area with his binoculars, but could only see a short distance before the forest closed in. He scanned the adjacent grounds for any signs of activity. Not seeing any movement, he searched for other clues. Near the edge of the trees, he detected parallel lines of fresh crushed grass leading into a shadowed opening. They looked very much like fresh tire tracks. He decided to investigate.
Bears and mountain lions were often seen in this area, so he pushed the stun gun into his belt. He didn't know if it would stop the furry beast, but it'd be worth a try if one surprised him. He'd use his .45 only if he needed to protect his life.
It would be dark within the hour, and so as not to lose sight of the trail, he made his way down the hill and followed the tracks into the woods. The darkness, silence and coolness enveloped him the deeper he trod. Suddenly, in the stillness, he heard an engine turn over. He quickly jumped behind the thick brush and hunkered down. After several seconds, Hawkman could tell by the sound, the vehicle had started moving. He stole a peek, as the red Willys jeep bounced past him. Jack Hargrove sat in the driver's seat.
Hawkman waited until the vehicle moved out of sight, then jogged down the trail. He soon approached a small building with a chimney. The shack had probably housed a workman or two for the hotel. He examined the door and found it securely fastened with a new padlock. Walking around the outside, he noted the windows had long since lost their glass, and were covered with towel-like cloths. Poking at one, he realized they'd been tacked to the frame on the inside. He shoved his finger into the corner and pushed back the material enough to view the inside. The gloominess forced him to use his Maglite to see the interior. A cot sat on one end, topped with a sleeping bag and pillow. In the corner stood a covered potty bucket. A rickety table sat on the opposite side holding a box of crackers, bottle of water, bag of chips and a kerosene lantern. A three-legged milk stool served as a chair. He couldn't see directly under the window where he stood, but figured it didn't matter as the man had set up living quarters. And from the looks of things, he planned on staying awhile.