In for the Kill [Hawkman Series Book 9] (2 page)

Hawkman raised a brow. “Yeah, like a piece of cloth."

"The name ‘Ragdoll’ comes from that trait. Very easy to cuddle."

"Right,” he laughed. “But you have to catch her first."

"She'll settle down eventually; she's just excited about exploring her new home."

"I have a feeling she's going to run you ragged for awhile."

"I'll call Marie and find out a little more about this breed's disposition, also, what I need to do as far as shots and getting her spayed."

"Speaking of Marie, would you mind filling me in on why she gave you this animal?"

"Last year when I took the chemotherapy treatments, I met her in the infusion room. She had the chair next to mine, and she looked so frightened. We talked for a long time until I sensed her relaxing. When I asked about her cancer, it turned out she had the same as mine. Based on my research, I informed her about the chances of survival and how lymphoma could be knocked into remission. The woman's whole demeanor changed and tears flowed down her cheeks in relief. She'd lost her husband in a construction accident a couple of years before, has three little girls, and thought her life had come to an end."

Hawkman reached over and patted her hand. “Sounds like you gave her courage."

"Whenever we met during treatment, we talked and laughed constantly. The last time I saw her, she asked if I liked cats and explained how she raised the Ragdoll breed. She told me I'd handed her a new lease on life and wanted to give me something personal. Marie promised when her best cat gave birth, I'd get one of the litter."

"I like the story. And the feisty little lion has now stolen my heart."

Jennifer grinned. “I understand they make wonderful pets."

"We'll soon know,” he said, picking up their empty plates and heading for the kitchen.

Later they retired to the living room. Jennifer retrieved the kitten and played with her while Hawkman tried to watch the news.

"Are you calling Bill tomorrow?"

"I think so."

"What are you going to ask him?"

About that time, the phone rang. Hawkman raised his hand. “Let the answering machine pick up."

"I know you're there. Your lights are on in the house. I saw you eating dinner. What a great target.” Then the line went dead.

Hawkman jumped out of his chair, and closed the drapes.

Clutching the cat to her chest, Jennifer stared at him in horror. “The voice sounded the same."

"Hit the floor,” he said, flipping off the lamp next to his chair, leaving only the light from the flickering television to illuminate the room. His gun drawn and in a crouched position, he made his way to the kitchen window. Keeping to the side of the sashes, so his silhouette couldn't be seen, he peered out at the street. Seeing nothing, he hurried back to the bedroom, and grabbed his night binoculars off the dresser. He stepped out on the deck, and slipped his gun into the waistband of his jeans. Putting the glasses to his eyes, he surveyed the bridge and the land across the lake.

Jennifer followed. “Anything?"

"Nothing. No parked or moving vehicle anywhere."

"He must have driven by while we were having dinner, then called from down the road."

Hawkman moved back into the house, closed the sliding glass door, and pulled the drapes shut. He replaced the gun into the shoulder holster, then put an arm around her shoulders. “Again, I want to remind you to keep the house locked and the alarm on at all times. Don't answer the phone or the door unless you know who it is.” He grimaced. “In fact, I'd like you out of here for a few days."

She tilted her head and looked at him sideways. “You know better than to even think along those lines."

He gave her a squeeze. “I knew you'd say that. But this guy sounds awfully close."

Jennifer pulled away, placed the cat on the floor and went to the bedroom. Even though her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she had to rummage through the dresser drawers until she found the small holster fanny pack and buckled it around her waist. Hawkman came in, then followed her to his office. She took the flashlight he always kept on the top of the gun vault, worked the combination and opened the safe. She found her Beretta and a box of shells, then placed them on the desk before closing the heavy door. “I know how to shoot. I'll carry my weapon until we get this resolved."

She loaded the gun, put on the safety and slid it into the pack. “There, I'm ready for anything."

Hawkman stood beside her, clenched fists resting on his hips, his expression sober. “I don't like the idea of you being home alone."

Her eyes lit up and she grinned as she swooped up the kitten. “I won't be."

Frowning, he headed for the kitchen. “You think the little beast can save you?"

She shrugged. “Maybe I can teach her to be a watch-cat."

He chuckled as he surveyed the outside before closing the window blinds, then flipped on the light. “You're making something small out of this, but it could be very serious."

"I don't doubt the gravity of this situation. In fact, it scares me to death,” she said, trailing behind him. “But we can't let it ruin our lives."

Hoping to change the subject, he turned and flipped a curl on her forehead. “I really like the way your hair is growing in. It's so curly, and with the blond highlights it gives you the appearance of a pixie."

"Thanks. I'm enjoying its easy care. But I understand it will go back to the original texture in a couple of years."

"Good. Two years is long enough for you to be an elf."

The ringing phone made them both start and stare at the machine.

"No need for you to turn off all your lights. I'm long gone, but I'll return. So watch your back,
Hawk Man
."

Jennifer cringed. “I don't like his threats. And this time, he called you Hawkman."

"It appears he's done his research.” He picked up the phone and punched in a number.

She moved to his side. “Who are you calling?"

"The office. I want to see if he's left any messages there. If he has, he knows I'm now Tom Casey."

She stepped back and watched his jaw tighten as he gripped the receiver. When he hung up, the cat wiggled to get free of Jennifer's tight hold. She put her on the floor, then touched Hawkman's arm as he glared at the machine. “Obviously, he left a message. What did he say?"

"I can't escape. He knows all about us: where we live, your name is Jennifer, and I have an office over a doughnut shop.” He glanced down at the kitten rubbing against his leg. “And you've received a kitten as a gift from Marie."

Jennifer's looked at him wide eyed. “Oh my, God!"

Jennifer tucked the kitten into the wicker bed, and she seemed content with the bathroom surroundings. Until this little girl could be trusted with the run of the house, it appeared a good remedy. Jennifer flipped on the night light, put down the toilet bowl lid and closed the door.

Hawkman had already slipped into bed, but left on the lamp. His eye-patch and gun lay on the end table next to his head. Even though his eyes were closed, she knew he hadn't fallen asleep. The covers came only to his waist and she could see the tense muscles of his chest and the shiny line of the scar running down his left arm. She remembered the agony he'd gone through while attending therapy classes, but he'd succeeded in getting back full control of the muscles. So well, no one would ever guess how badly he'd been cut by the horrible murderess, Tulip Withers. Jennifer donned her gown and crawled in beside him.

Leaning on her elbow, she put a hand on his arm. “Honey, how would he have known I received a kitten for a gift?"

He opened his eyes. “I'm not sure. It baffles me. I might need to question Marie."

She gasped. “Surely you don't think she has anything to do with this person?"

"It could be very innocent. Someone asking questions or looking over the litter, pretending he wanted to buy one. She could have told him she'd saved this particular feline for you. I wish I'd paid more attention in the pet shop. I blurted out to the workers I knew nothing about cats, and this one had been given to my wife as a gift from Marie. They created such a commotion over the little creature, it never entered my mind someone nearby might have been eavesdropping on the conversation."

"Do you want me to give her a call?"

"No. I need a little more time before I approach her."

Jennifer rolled over on her back and pulled up the cover. “Let's try to get some sleep; maybe we'll think more clearly in the morning."

She awoke early to an empty bed, and assumed her husband hadn't slept well. Letting out a sigh, she pushed her feet into her slippers and shrugged on the robe she'd tossed over the chair last night. She quickly ran a brush through her curly locks, then hurried to the other bathroom and opened the door. The kitten, playing with the small stuffed rabbit Hawkman had bought, batted it with her paw, then raised up and bounced on it with all four feet. Jennifer giggled as she picked up the feline and toy, then carried them down the hallway.

Hawkman had opened the drape covering the sliding glass door just enough so he could look out. He stood staring at the lake with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Good morning. How long have you been up?"

"A long time."

"I figured you wouldn't get much rest.” She knelt and put the cat on the floor. “By the way, she loves the toy you bought."

Hawkman glanced her way. “Oh, yeah, which one?"

"The stuffed bunny. Watch her go after it."

She flipped the rabbit a few feet away and the cat lunged, bounced on it, then rolled over with the ear in its mouth.

Hawkman chuckled. “Glad the little varmint likes to play. I have to say her antics are comical. Have you thought of a name yet?"

Jennifer went into the kitchen where she poured herself a mug of the hot brew. “No. It's got to be something catchy. It will come in time.” She slid onto one of the kitchen bar stools. “What are your plans for today?"

"I've already called Bill."

She glanced at him in surprise. “Boy, I must've been sleeping like a log. I never heard you talking. So what'd he say?"

"He'll get back to me. Right now he has no idea who this guy could be. Said he'd do some research and give me a call in a day or two."

"Are you going into the office?"

"Yes. I have some work to do on a couple of cases.” He raised a brow. “What are your plans?"

"I've got to check with Marie and find out if the kitten is old enough to get neutered. I want to get her spayed as soon as possible."

"Good idea. Lock yourself in and keep the alarm on. You can probably open the drapes during the day, but the minute the sun goes down, close them."

She nodded, took a sip of coffee, then narrowed her eyes. “Hawkman, I'm not going to barricade myself in this house for days on end. I'll take precautions and be alert, but if I want to go to the dock or town, I'm going. I certainly don't see you staying locked inside, even though you're obviously the target."

He sighed. “I figured you'd say that."

She shrugged. “Well, isn't it reasonable I go by the same rules?"

"Since you put it in such a manner, I guess so."

After her husband left the house, Jennifer couldn't find the kitten. Calling, she went through all the rooms, looked under the beds, in the corners, inside closets, behind books, then she panicked at the thought the cat might have dashed outside when Hawkman opened the front door. She hurried over to the dining room window near her computer area, pushed back the drape and scanned the side yard. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the little bundle of fur draped across the seat of her desk chair, sound asleep.

Hawkman chewed on a toothpick as he drove toward Medford. He'd racked his brain for an answer to who could be causing the torment. Should he consider the threats seriously, or could this just be a crackpot getting his kicks? Regardless, he felt like he should investigate the situation to make sure. He didn't like the idea the guy knew his original name and had mentioned the cat as a gift. These two items bothered him considerably. He hoped to hear from Bill Broadwell soon. Maybe he'd be able to give him a hint. Hawkman felt in his gut this person existed in his past life at the Agency. He had enemies, but who held such a vendetta that he'd come searching after all these years? The question baffled him.

When he reached the office, he popped into the bakery to buy a couple of pastries since he'd skipped breakfast.

Clyde, the baker, met him at the counter with a broad grin and a pan full of goodies. “You're in early today. These delicacies are right out of the oven. Take your choice."

Hawkman sniffed the air. “It always smells delicious in here. When I'm upstairs and you have those ovens pumped up, the aroma comes floating into my windows and through every crack in the walls. Makes my stomach grumble. You know I'm hooked."

The baker laughed. “Ah, yes. I'm glad you enjoy our goods. By the way, how is Ms. Jennifer?"

"She's doing great and still in remission."

"The last time she came by, she had on a turban. Has her hair grown back?

"Yes. It's curly and she looks like a mischievous little pixie. It's very becoming."

After Hawkman chose a couple of the sweet treats, Clyde put the rest into the display counter. “I'd heard hair can come back quite differently after chemotherapy."

"Yep, she thought it would never grow.” He folded the sack top, started toward the door, then stopped and moved back to the counter. “Say, while I'm here, I need to ask you a question. Have you had any new customers lately, or noticed any strangers lingering around in the past couple of weeks?"

Clyde rubbed a flour covered hand down his apron and put the empty pan on a ledge behind him. “Let me think.” He drummed his fingers on the counter for a moment, then raised his index finger. “I remember a man and woman came in the end of last week. I'd never seen them before."

Hawkman's interest piqued. “Did they come in together?"

"I'm not sure. I was tending to one of the ovens in the back.” He pointed above the door. “That bell rings and alerts me of a customer, so I didn't actually see them walk inside. By the time I got out here, they were standing in front of the case chatting about the baked goods. But I don't think they knew each other."