Shadows in the Night [Hawkman--Book 12] (23 page)

[Back to Table of Contents]

Hawkman printed out the information he'd found on Don Jackson. He sat back and thumped his pencil on the desk. Mr. Mackle must have a big heart. Some of the people's reputations are questionable. However, they'd all been employed there for three or more years, obviously doing good work. He saw no complaints recorded in their files. Picking up one of the sheets on Carmen Sanders, he noted Mackle had put her date of birth on the recommendation to hire her. The woman was thirty-one years old.

The note left on Carmen's door by Ms. Montgomery still baffled him. Why would she leave such a warning? He'd have a talk with both these women and discover what they thought about each other. Could turn out very interesting, if they told the truth.

He decided to wrap it up for the day, but first jotted down Ms. Montgomery's address from the information in her folder. Seeing where a person lives sometimes exposes a bit about their character. He'd drive by her place on the way home. He packed the files into his briefcase, unplugged the coffee pot, turned out the lights and left. A cool breeze smacked him in the face as he jogged down the stairs, which made him shiver. Unlocking his vehicle, he quickly climbed inside. “Winter is upon us,” he mumbled, slamming the door.

Familiar with the area where Lisa lived, he didn't have to enter the street into the GPS. The setting sun's bright rays glanced off his windshield, almost blinding him when he turned westward. Happy to locate the main drag to Ms. Montgomery's home, he turned away from the shafts of light and continued slowly, not exactly sure where her street crisscrossed. He soon spotted it and pulled the piece of paper from his pocket to check the numbers. The neighborhood appeared quiet, the homes neat and tidy. He finally found the address and as he drove by Montgomery's house, the electric garage door slid down over two cars parked in the garage. An older woman came out the front door, walked across the lawn, picked up the newspaper, flipped off the rubber band and shook it on her way back into the house.

He picked up speed as he parted the area and turned onto the ramp for the freeway.

When he arrived home, Jennifer asked him a million questions about what all he'd learned so far. He told her about Carmen Sanders’ file, and Lisa Montgomery's note.

"That's really strange,” she said, her eyes wide. “Sounds like the Montgomery woman might be blackmailing Carmen."

"I agree, but what about?"

Jennifer shrugged. “Who knows? You're going to have to find out. She's got something on her. Why leave such a note, if she didn't?"

Hawkman lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Sleep didn't want to come and he envied his pretty wife as her breathing had settled into soft whispers at least two hours ago. He knew he had to get up early in the morning, as he wanted to talk with Ms. Montgomery first thing, and hoped he could corner Carmen Sanders before the Friday night plans of a fall festival kicked into play. They'd be too busy to talk to him then. He finally fell asleep and awoke with a jerk as Miss Marple jumped onto his chest and knocked his chin with her head.

"What the heck do you want, you little pest?"

Jennifer rolled over. “Oh, shoot, I forgot to put any dry food out for her last night. Bet her dish is empty."

"I'll take care of it. I have to get going anyway. Go back to sleep if you can."

"Thanks, hon,” she said, as she rolled over onto her side.

Hawkman grabbed his clothes in one hand and carried the kitten, balanced against his chest, with the other. He managed to close the bedroom door, so the cat couldn't sneak back in and disturb Jennifer. Sure enough, Miss Marple's dish stood empty. He quickly filled it, gave her fresh water, then went to the middle bathroom where he showered, shaved, and dressed.

When he got ready to leave the house, he smiled, as Miss Marple had climbed into his chair, her tail flicking back and forth, as she watched the falcon out the window. Pretty Girl gave her quite a show, flapping her wings and walking about on her perch.

"You're dreaming, little one. That bird would make mincemeat out of you,” he chuckled, as he closed the door.

Driving toward Medford, he thought about how he'd approach Ms. Montgomery concerning her dealings with Carmen Sanders. Something appeared fishy, but he doubted he'd find it out much today; still he'd give it a try. He pulled into the parking lot, found a vacant slot, picked up his briefcase, and exited the vehicle. On his way inside, he flipped on the recorder in his pocket. When he reached her office, he found the door ajar and poked his head inside. Lisa sat at her desk, concentrating on an open ledger. When he cleared his throat, she jerked up her head.

"Excuse me, Mr. Casey. I didn't hear you knock."

"Actually, I didn't, your door was open, so I just came in."

"What can I do for you?"

He noticed a tone of impatience in her voice. “I'd like to talk to you about Don Jackson and Carmen Sanders."

She took off her reading glasses, dropped her pencil on the desk, and leaned back in the chair. “What do you want to know?"

"Do you and Mr. Foster interview the clients for jobs?"

"Normally, yes. If Perry and I agree the person's a good pick, we give Mr. Mackle our preferences; then he takes it from there. He reviews their applications, our reports, and makes the final decision."

"How did Don Jackson qualify?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've done some research and he was fired from his last job for sexual harassment. Didn't you think having him around here might cause a problem."

Lisa leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk. “Mr. Casey, he's a good looking man and from what I read of the report, a young woman trumped up a charge against him because she couldn't get his attention. These things happen all the time, and it's a shame for it to have to go on a person's record. He told us all about it when we interviewed him."

"You believed him?"

"Yes."

"What if I told you, it wasn't the only time he'd been hit with such a suit."

She frowned. “There was only the one charge on his record."

"Time might have protected him."

"How many are there?"

"Three counting the one you know about."

"Oh, my.” She sat back and rubbed her forehead. “We've had no problems so far."

"I'm glad to hear it. He might never mouth off again. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson and doesn't want to lose this job."

"You've really hit me with baffling news. I guess we should search deeper when we're hiring a person."

"How long have you known Ms. Sanders?"

"For years. Our mothers were the best of friends. Even though I'm a few years older than Carmen, when our mothers would get together, we'd be forced to put up with each other."

"That arrangement obviously didn't suit you."

She shrugged. “I would have preferred being with friends my own age."

"Did you keep in touch with Carmen as you grew older?"

"No, I quit going over to the Sanders home when I got old enough to stay alone."

"Did your mother ever mention Carmen?"

"She thought Mrs. Sanders let her get by with murder. When Carmen hit the teenage years, she got into drugs, then got married right out of high school. However, it didn't last long and Carmen had the marriage annulled. She went into rehab; then when her father died she had a nervous breakdown and spent over five years in and out of a psychiatric ward."

"You seem to know a lot about her."

"Mother kept me updated when I'd come home from college."

"So Carmen never had any formal education other than high school?"

Lisa shook her head. “No. Once her mother had a stroke, Carmen took care of her night and day. When her mother passed away, she had no means of support as it took all the money they had to take care of the medical needs and their upkeep. She grew up quite a bit during that time."

"How did she qualify for this job?"

Lisa squirmed in her chair and exhaled. “I have no idea. Mr. Mackle hired her. You'll have to talk to him about the details. I must say, she's worked out beautifully, and all the residents love her. I really don't understand why you're making such an issue out of how these people got hired."

Hawkman stared at her. “Because I'm investigating a murder, and I need to know their backgrounds. Same as with you. I've researched your resume and you definitely qualify for the job."

"Thank you."

"You said your mother also had a stroke. Is she still alive?"

"Oh, yes. She's fully recovered, drives and does her own thing."

"What does she think about Carmen working here?"

"She thinks it's great."

"You told me the residents love Carmen. What's your opinion?"

"Mr. Casey, my personal judgment isn't important. The girl works here and is doing a good job. That's what counts."

"Why did you have her file at your house?"

She let out a bored breath. “Mr. Mackle needed some statistics, so I took several folders home. Somehow, Carmen's slipped out of the stack and fell behind my desk. I didn't leave it at my house on purpose."

"Did your mother read the file?"

She raised her brows. “What an odd question. I really doubt it, but I don't think you have any right to bring my mother into your investigation. She has nothing to do with Morning Glory Haven."

"I'm trying to hit all bases, because there's something going on that doesn't fit the picture. Believe me, I'm going to find out what it is.” He picked up the briefcase and headed toward the door, then turned. “I'll be talking to you again."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Hawkman plopped down on the large couch in the lounge area opposite the recreation room. He pulled Lisa's file from his briefcase, and glanced down through the application. Her tone during the interview appeared impatient through the whole session. She definitely had animosity toward Ms. Sanders. He'd sure like to know the reason; it might answer the question of why she left such a note in Carmen's mailbox.

A movement caught Hawkman's eye and he turned to see Don Jackson talking to one of the residents. While watching the two converse, he noticed when Jackson reached into his back pocket for something, what looked like a diabetic pump hung from the belt of his trousers. When he removed his hand, the tail of his coat caught on the instrument. He stepped away from the person and Hawkman called out.

"Mr. Jackson."

"Hello, Mr. Casey. Didn't see you."

He pointed to the small machine. “You diabetic?"

He twisted around, and flipped the tail of his coat. “Yeah, and the darn thing gets hung up on my clothes all the time. However, it's a life saver, otherwise I'd be jabbing myself constantly."

"You have a minute?” Hawkman asked.

"Just a quickie, I've got a doctor's appointment, and when Ms. Sanders arrives, I've got to take off. What do you need?"

"Do you like your job?"

"Yeah, a lot."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"Can't afford one right now."

"I'd like to talk to you about the harassment charges on your record."

Don's smile disappeared and he turned pale. “Mr. Casey, please keep those to yourself. My life has turned around and I've learned a big lesson. I need this employment."

"Keep your nose clean, and you'll keep it. We'll talk when you have more time."

Jackson crossed the room toward the corridor, ran a hand along the side of his head and disappeared around the corner toward his office.

Soon, Carmen Sanders entered the wing, and headed down the hallway. Hawkman waited until Don came down the corridor and hurried out the door before he rose and went to Ms. Sander's office. He knocked and heard her say ‘come in'. When he opened the door, her face fell. She dropped the mail she held in her hand onto the desk and took a deep breath.

"Oh, it's you."

"Sorry, I'm not who you'd like to see, but I've got to talk to you."

"I have nothing else to tell you."

"You know you haven't leveled with me, so I'm going to keep asking questions until you do. Otherwise, the police will be back next week with their own version, and I don't think you want them harassing you."

"I don't know what you mean."

Hawkman sat down in front of her desk. “I'm sure Mr. Jackson took care of most of the duties before he had to leave, so why don't you relax and let's talk."

She eased down into her desk chair, but remained rigid. “What more do you want to know?"

"What's the beef between you and Lisa Montgomery?"

She stared at him. “What are you talking about?"

"Something's going on between you two. I followed her to your house and read the note she left in your mailbox."

Immediately, she jumped up, her eyes wide. “How dare you? It's a federal offense to read other people's mail."

"It didn't have a stamp on it. If you want to get technical about it, she shouldn't have put it in your box, as that is a federal offense also. Especially, a threatening note. Have you talked to her since she left it?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't she want you to talk to me?"

"She doesn't want me to say anything that might get her into trouble."

"What's she afraid of?"

"Losing her job."

"How could you influence the security of her employment?"

"Because Mr. Mackle is my uncle, and she thinks I might say something to him that could jeopardize it."

"So you're saying she's blackmailing you?"

A flash of fear crossed her face, as she dropped back into her seat. “Yes."

"What has she got against you?"

"Lots of stuff, so she thinks. Lisa and her mother are evil. My mother warned me about them years ago."

"Tell me more."

Carmen took a deep breath. “For one, you can't imagine how happy Lisa was when she heard Mrs. Owens had died of an overdose of insulin. It gave her something else to add to her list against me."

"What does that have to do with you?"

"I'm sure you've discovered in your investigation, I'm diabetic and so was my mom. When she had the stroke, things got very complicated because of her diabetes. She had to take medications, plus insulin. I had to run to the pharmacy to pick up some of her medicine and thought she was asleep. When I returned she was in insulin shock. She'd gone to the refrigerator, taken out two syringes, one of mine and one of hers, and injected them both. I called emergency, but she was already dead. It was horrible to watch one you loved so much, die in such a way. To this day Lisa Montgomery accuses me of murdering my mother."