In for the Kill [Hawkman Series Book 9] (13 page)

His ears perked at hearing a low rumble. Glancing in the direction of the noise, he could see the beam of headlights bouncing off the tree trunks as it made its way along the rough trail. Hawkman quickly darted into the trees and hid. The jeep stopped in front of the hut, and Jack climbed out with a paper bag. Hawkman wondered where he'd gone, as he certainly hadn't been away long enough to drive into town, and the store at Copco Lake was closed. Jack dumped small pieces of dried timber out of the sack into a small circle of rocks at the side of the building, and lit a small fire. After several trips inside the shanty, he brought out the three legged stool and prepared to roast several wieners over the flame.

Once his hot dogs were well done, Hargrove hurried into the little house, and returned with buns and mustard for his dinner. He snapped open a soda and crunched on chips. Smelling the food and watching the man eat made Hawkman's stomach growl. He quietly slipped a sandwich from his pack.

After eating, Jack collected the remnants, covered the fire with dirt, and disappeared into his makeshift dwelling, closing the door. Within a few minutes, a soft light glowed through the covered windows and stayed on for about half an hour.

Pitch blackness engulfed the area when Jack extinguished the light. Hawkman could have kicked himself for not finding a good place to bed down beforehand. The cloud covered sky kept the stars and moon from throwing forth any brightness. He hoped it wouldn't rain tonight. But just as the wish passed through his mind, he heard drops hitting the leaves and felt splatters on his face.

Only one thing to do. He eased toward the jeep and carefully opened the back door hoping it wouldn't squeal or creak. He quietly crawled inside, moved a stack of stuff to make an area clear enough so he'd have room to curl up and get a few winks. Tugging the night roll out of the pack, he lay down and covered up. Just as he settled, the rain came down in torrents. A few drips came through the cloth top, and he had to move his head to avoid them. At least he didn't get completely soaked.

He'd dozed for a couple of hours when the rocking of the jeep jarred him completely awake. Hargrove had climbed into the vehicle and started it up. Hawkman crunched down and covered his head, in hopes Jack hadn't spotted anything different about the reshuffling of items. He had no idea of the time, but darkness still prevailed, but the rain had stopped. Hargrove backed up the jeep, then drove out the bumpy road to the blacktop. After approximately fifteen minutes, Hawkman thought he heard the rush of the river. When the jeep stopped, Jack jumped out without even glancing back. Hawkman quickly looked out the windshield and realized they were parked in the City's construction lot next to his own house. He hurriedly climbed out the back, tossed his pack and bed roll beside the parked road grader and followed Hargrove as he approached the deck of his house.

Hiding behind the woodpile, Hawkman drew his gun and watched Jack tiptoe up the back stairs. What the hell's he doing, he thought, preparing to move foreword as he watched the man reach down and pull something out of the wall. The moon peeped out from behind the clouds and Hawkman could see Hargrove winding a cord around his hand, then shove it into his pocket. As Jack hastened down the steps, Hawkman moved around the woodpile, never taking his eye off the sneak who now headed toward the jeep. When Hawkman saw him flip open a lighted object in his hand, he realized Hargrove had just used the electrical outlet to charge his cell phone.

"What a cheap SOB,” he muttered under his breath.

Hawkman stayed hidden and watched until the jeep turned around, headed across the bridge, and turned east on Ager Beswick Road. He strolled over and picked up his backpack, and crossed toward the deck where he piled his gear. Checking the electrical outlet, he grumbled. The cover stood open. He flipped it shut, and went around to the front door, where he deactivated the alarm and let himself inside.

He turned on the kitchen light and immediately threw up his hands. Jennifer stood in front of him clutching her gun with the barrel pointed at his chest. “Don't shoot. It's me, your husband."

She dropped her arms to her side and let out a loud sigh. “What are you doing walking in at this hour?"

"Long story. You want to hear it now or later?"

Miss Marple had followed her out of the bedroom, and stood at the sliding glass door, meowing loudly. Jennifer placed her gun on the counter, walked over to the cat and picked her up. “What's with you, baby. You've acted strange for about an hour."

"What do you mean?” Hawkman asked.

"I had her in bed with me, suddenly, she raised up, climbed over me, then looked toward the outside. She did this a couple of times, and even nudged me with her head."

"You should have paid attention. She sensed someone out there."

She twisted around. “Are you serious?"

"Yes.” He told her about how he ended up in the back of the stolen jeep and slipped out when Hargrove parked by the bridge. “I watched him come up to the deck and would have made a move if he'd tried to get into the house. But I could see he had something else in mind.” He reached over and gave the cat a pat on the head. “Miss Marple may be more of a detective than you imagined."

Jennifer frowned. “I don't understand what Jack Hargrove was doing on our deck?"

"Are you ready for this one?” Hawkman asked, raising a brow. “Charging his cell phone."

"What!"

"Yep. So he can make those harassing calls."

She put her hands on her hips. “Of all the nerve."

Hawkman grinned. “I'd like to fix that plug so he can't get it open or at least give him a shock."

"Not sure it's a good idea either way. You might make him mad enough to throw another rock through the window."

"Good point."

"Oh, before I forget. Peggy caught me coming back from taking you to the hills. She's not happy about you going without Ken."

"I didn't need him. He'll understand."

"I guess it's a man thing.” She shrugged. “I think I'm going to head back to bed and see if I can get some sleep.” She glanced up at the wall clock. “Good grief, it's three in the morning.” Carrying the cat, she put her in the bathroom. “You're going to have to sleep the rest of the night in here, little one. I need some shuteye."

The next morning, Hawkman opened the door and snickered. “Oh, boy, Miss Marple, you're in deep yogurt."

Tying the belt on her robe, Jennifer moved up behind him. “What's she done now?"

"You forgot to take the toilet paper away when you put her to bed, so we're going to have to suffer through a gigantic roll again."

"Oh, shoot, that little rascal. Well, I can't blame her, I should have removed the temptation. I think I'll just put it in a box, it's a heck of a job to roll it back on the spindle."

"Now you're thinking."

She tapped her finger on her chin. “Oh dear, when is Ray Skokie going to be arriving?"

"He'll probably call today and let me know. I figure he'll come tomorrow or the next day."

"I'll have to move her stuff into our bathroom. I didn't think about having a guest when I put her in here."

A mischievous grin played on his lips. “It means he gets a good roll of toilet paper and we have to use it out of a box."

Jennifer gave him a playful punch on the arm. “I don't think Mr. Skokie would appreciate your humor."

Hawkman reached down and picked up one the cat's toys from the floor. His eyes twinkled as he shook the cluster of small bells.

Jennifer glanced at him with a puzzled expression. “What've you got in mind?"

"Not sure, but this might come in mighty handy."

She pushed past him and gathered up the long streams of paper draped across the room. “What a mess,” she mumbled.

Hawkman laughed. “Your fault."

"Don't remind me. One definitely won't gain weight taking care of a kitten.” She carried the bundle into their bedroom and dumped it onto the foot of the bed. “Now to find a box, preferably one with a lid."

While Jennifer busied herself with restoring the bathroom to its original order, Hawkman strolled out on the deck. He bent down on his haunches and studied the flip cover of the electrical outlet. Even though the contraption had a place where he could insert a padlock, he'd rather set a trap for Mr. Hargrove and catch him in the act. He glanced at the stairs and smiled. Heading back inside, he went to the hall closet and pulled out his fishing tackle box. He set it on the kitchen counter and removed an almost invisible fishing line from the contents.

Jennifer studied him as she swished past with an armful of dirty towels. “Are you going fishing?"

"Nope. This is going to be much more fun."

She dropped the laundry on the washer and moved back to where he stood. Scratching her head, she watched him loop the line around the cat's bell toy. “What in the heck are you doing? I hope you're not going to give that to Miss Marple, it could be dangerous."

"Don't worry, I won't.” He held up the string with the toy attached to the end and gave it a shake. It rang with a nice loud jingle. “Perfect."

She wrinkled her forehead. “I think you're losing it."

"I might be. I'll know if it will work tonight when I test it out."

"Okay, quit dodging the issue. What are you up to?"

"I'm going to set a trap for Mr. Jack Hargrove."

"I see. Would you explain a little more, please?"

Hawkman picked up the roll of fishing line, took the toy off the end and crossed to the dining room. “I'm going to run the string out the window, attach it to the railing and run it across the stair walkway. I'm hoping the line won't glisten in the dark. I'll tie the toy to the end inside the house and hope Mr. Hargrove walks into the taut line. The ringing of the bells will alert me when he's on the deck."

"You know he'll run the minute he feels it."

"True, but it will do my heart good to let him know I've caught on to his using my electricity to charge his cell phone."

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Men! I'll never understand the way you think. I thought you wanted to catch him."

"Not just yet. I'll wait until Skokie gets here. I think he wants the opportunity to reason with his dad before Williams arrests him."

"From what Bill told you, it doesn't sound like Ray has had much luck so far."

"No, and it's probably going to be a wasted trip. But I think he'd like one more chance."

She grimaced. “It must be awful to have to cope with a father who's doing bad things."

Hawkman nodded as he threaded the string through the window. He poked a pencil into the middle of the container and handed Jennifer the roll. “Could you hold on to this while I go out on the deck and measure how much I'll need?"

"Sure."

He marched outside, took the line hanging from the window, and pulled it toward the end post. After wrapping several extra feet around the wood, he went back inside and cut the thread with his pocket knife. “Thanks, that should do it."

"I've got work to do before I can get to my writing.” She headed toward the bedroom. “Good luck with your project."

Hawkman continued working on the trap. He kept going in and out the sliding glass door until Jennifer strolled into the living room.

"Have you seen Miss Marple?"

He looked at her in shock. “Dang, I haven't paid attention and left the slider open several times."

Jennifer dashed onto the deck . “I don't want her to get fleas. She'll carry them into the house and then we'll have an infestation of those horrible pests."

"Wait!” he yelled as Jennifer headed down the stairs, hit the fishing line with her legs and fortunately grabbed the wooden handrail before she fell the rest of the way down the steps.

Hawkman hurried to her side and helped her up. “You all right?"

She dusted off her hands, wiped them down her jeans and glared at him. “Yes. I might have a few splinters, but otherwise, I'm okay."

He took her by the shoulders, turned her toward the aviary and pointed. “Miss Marple is very interested in Pretty Girl. It doesn't look like she's moved from that spot for several minutes.” He tucked his thumbs into his front jeans pockets. “It appears she's in a trance."

Jennifer stood back and watched the cat as she stared at the falcon. Miss Marple never moved so much as a hair on her head, but her tail twitched back and forth. “Now what do you suppose she's thinking?” she whispered.

"If her mind's on food, she might as well forget it. The falcon would make a meal out of her in a matter of minutes."

"I don't think we ever want to take them out together."

Hawkman turned back to his project. “Hope you didn't hurt yourself."

"No, the jeans saved me from getting cut, but I could have broken my neck."

He shook his head. “Naw, you're too agile. You caught yourself the minute you felt your body falling."

"What do you think will happen to Jack if he stumbles over it?"

He pointed toward the yard. “He'll be coming up the stairs, it's a bit different. He wouldn't get hurt, he'd just sprawl out on the deck with a big thud. And it wouldn't bother me a bit if he acquired a few bruises, especially after what he did to my head."

She walked over and picked up Miss Marple. “Do you think he'll attempt to come tonight?"

"Not sure. All depends on how well his cell phone holds a charge or how much he's talked on it today."

"What if this makes him really mad and he does something bad, like break another window, or hurt the falcon."

Hawkman jerked up his head. “He better not even think about injuring my bird."

Hawkman worked in silence as he looped the fishing line over the last post and threaded it into the window. He couldn't help but think about Jennifer's comment. Would Jack be mean enough to harm the falcon? If he just turned the bird loose, no harm. Pretty Girl would return. But if he hurt her, it would make Hawkman very upset.

He glanced at the aviary, wondering if he shouldn't move the bird to the truck for the next couple of nights. It couldn't hurt, and might save her life. He'd drive the pickup to the other side of the house near his bedroom; then he'd hear her squawk if anyone bothered her. There was a problem with the aviary: the back, nearest their bedroom, was solid and made of heavy wood. The front part was screen which faced the sliding glass door off the dining room. All sounds went in that direction. He or Jennifer had never heard her make any noises at night. But he knew she must have scolded raccoons when they ambled onto the deck.