The Archer [Book 13 of the Hawkman Series] (11 page)

"Man, it's freezing out there,” he said, plopping his briefcase on the counter and rubbing his hands as he moved in front of the fireplace. Jennifer had placed a huge log on the grate and the flames licked up the sides, sending waves of heat into the room.

She sat on the hearth with Miss Marple at her side. “Thought you might enjoy a warm fire when you arrived. The cold front hit really fast. The temperature dipped twenty degrees within an hour.” She shrugged. “Anyway it sure felt like it."

Hawkman reached down and gave her a kiss. “Thanks for making the house so warm and cozy. I hope you realize how much I appreciate you."

She smiled. “It goes both ways."

He reached down and stroked Miss Marple's back, causing her to arch. “Has she been a good girl today?"

Jennifer made a face. “No. She pulled a stunt she hasn't done since she was a kitten."

Hawkman eased himself down on the hearth. “I'm afraid to ask what she did."

"She got into the bathroom and unrolled the toilet paper. Thank goodness it was down to a small bit, so it didn't make a horrible mess."

He chuckled. “What in the world brought that on?"

"She wanted attention. I worked on my book most of the day and didn't give her much, so she decided to find something that would set me off."

Hawkman picked up the cat and looked into her face. “Shame on you."

"Enough about the spoiled pet. How'd your day go?"

He placed the feline on the floor, where she stretched and yawned, then jumped back up on the hearth between the two. “Not too productive. Ended up getting the back window of the SUV shattered."

Jennifer yanked her head around. “What! How?"

He told her about the incident as she stared at him wide eyed.

"I sure don't like the appearance of this hoodlum. You could end up getting hurt or killed."

"I've discovered there's more than one."

"That makes it worse. Do you have any idea who they are?"

"Not yet. Couldn't even get a make on the pickup tonight because of the darkness, and they were too far away, running without lights."

She shook her head. “Where's the Highway Patrol when you need them?"

"Probably just as well they weren't around, as I would have ended up with a hefty speeding ticket."

She stood and folded her arms. “This is getting dangerous. I worry about Laura; as these idiots seem to be getting bolder."

"Me, too. I'm going to find a GPS she can wear on her body in case they do get her cornered and take her in their vehicle."

"That's a great idea."

"By the way, I've got a question for you."

Jennifer sat back down on the hearth. “Okay?"

Hawkman shifted around so he could look at his wife. “Why would an attractive young woman not have anything to do with men of her age?"

"Are you speaking about Laura?"

He nodded. “Yeah. She doesn't have a boyfriend, and doesn't appear interested in getting one. She goes straight to and from school without any sort of social life that I can detect."

"Does she have girlfriends?"

"One or two, but not a bunch. I found one girl's phone number on the records of her cell phone. You'd think there would be a constant hubbub back and forth with girls around her age."

"Hmm,” Jennifer said. “There could be a multitude of reasons. She could be extremely shy."

"She sure doesn't have trouble talking to me."

"You're different. You're more like a father figure or a protector."

"I'm glad you added protector. Otherwise, you'd make me feel mighty old."

She laughed. “There's also the case where she could have been in love with someone and he dropped her. It could have made her not trust men, therefore, she avoids them to keep from getting hurt again. There could be other causes, but from what you've told me about Laura, those two peeled right off the top of my head. If I think of any more, I'll let you know."

"Thanks, you just might be right on both."

Hawkman left for Medford Saturday morning, in hopes he could get the back window of the 4X4 fixed in a couple of hours so he wouldn't have to leave his vehicle; otherwise he'd have to rent a car. He had a shop in mind that he'd used before to replace glass and found them reliable.

As he entered the outskirts of Medford, his cell phone vibrated and he pulled to the side of the road to answer. It turned out to be Laura telling him she and her mother were on their way to town.

"Okay, hold on a minute."

He switched on the GPS, did a couple of adjustments, and smiled. “Yep, you're heading into town.” When he gave her the exact location, she laughed and said she couldn't believe it.

"While I've got you on the phone, tell me something. Who's Cindy? I found her number on the phone report."

"She's a friend of mine, and we share a class. She called a couple of times for assignments she'd missed due to illness."

Hawkman bade Laura farewell and turned into the glass repair shop. He recognized several of the workmen, and rolled down his driver's side window.

"Hi, Brad and Jake."

Both men raised their heads and moved towards the vehicle. “Hey, Mr. Casey, who threw a rock at you?"

"Long story, I'll tell you about it sometime. Do you by some chance have a back window that will fit this baby?"

"I'll check,” Brad said, walking into the storage area, as Jake examined the shattered glass.

"Boy, this was done by a lot of force; surprised the glass stayed in place,” Jake said.

"Good thing you taped it down."

Hawkman climbed out of the 4X4 and joined the man at the back. “Surprised me too."

Brad reappeared carrying a large, thin cardboard box. “Yep. We can fix you up."

"Great,” Hawkman said. “How long will it take. I really need my wheels by this afternoon."

"We can have you ready to go by noon."

He handed them the keys. “I knew I could depend on you guys. I've got some errands to do and will be back to pick it up."

"Can I take you somewhere?” Brad asked.

"No, thanks, the walk will do me good. The place I want to go is just up the street a couple of blocks."

Hawkman took off on foot, thankful the wind had died down and the sun shone brightly. The chill still lingered, but it would keep him from working up a sweat. He soon arrived at the Global Navigations Systems and entered the building. It appeared they'd just opened, as he noticed some of the men donning jackets with the logo on the lapels.

Checking some of the display cabinets, Hawkman spotted several GPS items for humans and pets. Booklets lay scattered across the counter and he picked up one.

He studied the index and flipped through several pages trying to find something that would work for what he had in mind.

Soon a young man approached him. “Good morning, Sir, can I help you find something?"

"My mother is getting up there in age and borderline Alzheimer's. I'd like a bracelet or something I can attach to her wrist or leg to let me know where she is, in case she wanders away from the house. Something that would relay a signal to me from at least five to ten miles."

"What's the brand name of your receiver?"

After Hawkman told him, the man smiled. “You're in luck. I think we have just the thing. Follow me.” He led him down the aisle, then went behind the counter and pointed through the glass at a couple of bracelets. He then pulled them out of the locked case and handed them to Hawkman. “Either of these would locate your mother within a ten mile radius. They're quite the “in” thing now for keeping track of wandering parents."

Hawkman examined them both and checked the instructions to make sure they'd work with his receiver. He then chose the more generic looking bracelet and purchased it.

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When Hawkman returned to the repair shop, the workmen told him it would be about thirty minutes before they finished the rear window.

"I'll go into your waiting room and have a cup of coffee,” he said.

He strolled in and found only one other person waiting. The woman appeared engrossed in a novel, and he doubted she even noticed he'd entered the room. Pouring a cup of the hot brew, he took a chair on the opposite side and pulled out the instructions of the GPS he'd just bought. He studied the steps on how he needed to program the receiver so he'd have an accurate calculation of Laura's whereabouts. It seemed simple enough, and he liked the thought of her not having to do a thing but wear the bracelet.

One of the workers poked his head inside the door. “Mr. Casey. Your vehicle is ready."

Hawkman nodded, put the equipment back into the sack, dumped the coffee and threw away the plastic cup, then went out the door. He walked to the rear of the SUV and examined the new window. “Good job,” he said.

"Thanks, Mr. Casey. If you'll sign the bill, then you can take it away."

Hawkman paid with his credit card, then drove out of the garage. He had plenty of time to have a bite to eat before meeting Roy Summers and decided on Sandy's restaurant on main street. When he walked in, it surprised him to see the proprietor behind the cash register. “Hello, Sandy, how's it going?"

She forced a smile. “Mr. Casey, long time no see. I wish I could say good, but the economy is so bad people just aren't going out to eat. I've had to lay off several of my help, which just killed me. My people have been with me for years. I've tried to keep my prices low, but everything costs so much."

"I'm sorry to hear it."

"I'm praying I can keep the doors open and if business picks up, I can offer them back their jobs."

"Sure hope things work out."

"Let's get you seated. We have a good lunch special. I think you'll enjoy it."

As Hawkman walked back to a booth, he vowed to try to stop in at least once a week. He'd hate to see this cafe close.

When seated, Sandy handed him a menu and pointed out the steak special. “We got a good buy on these. I'll guarantee it will melt in your mouth. It also comes with a wonderful sourdough bread"

"No need for me to read any farther. I'll take it.” He chose a baked potato, and green beans for the side vegetables. “I'll also have a tall glass of iced tea."

When he finished the meal, he left a hefty tip, then went to the register. “You were right, Sandy, delicious meal. I'll try to get by more often. I don't want to see this wonderful restaurant disappear."

"Thanks, Mr. Casey. Encourage your friends to pay us a visit."

"I'll do it."

Leaving the restaurant, he still had a good hour and a half to kill before his meeting with Roy Summers. He decided to drive out to Arrow Point and people watch. He never knew what he might see.

Hawkman soon arrived at the archery facility and noticed a class practicing at the outside range. The weather felt nippy, but no wind, which probably made for favorable conditions in learning how to set the arrow. There were no parking places close, so he had to maneuver into a third row of assorted vehicles. He cut off the engine, glanced around the lot and spotted several black pickups. Taking his binoculars from the glove compartment, he put them to his face and concentrated on the group. He immediately recognized Summers pacing back and forth behind the participants, stopping occasionally to adjust someone's stance or grip on the bow.

He then went back and focused on each student. It surprised Hawkman to see several females in the crowd. As he moved the glasses down the line of people, he suddenly straightened. He swore the man he had in his sight, shooting an arrow, was Clay Hicks, one of Olly King's hired men who lived on the property. How come Olly never mentioned Clay as an archery enthusiast? However, this could be a beginning class and Laura's dad might not have known this man had taken up the sport. It probably wasn't any of Olly's business how the help used their personal time. However, Hawkman would keep this in mind, since Clay lived so close to Laura.

He continued the search down the line, but didn't see any others who caught his attention. The black pickups in the parking lot did draw his interest. He got out with a piece of paper and jotted down the license plates of each one. As the students left the range, he'd make note of who took those particular trucks, before he went into the building.

The class soon left the outdoor range and filed inside. Hawkman lowered the binoculars and placed them back in the glove compartment. Thirty minutes elapsed before people began to file out of the building. He noted each person as he or she entered a vehicle. When Clay Hicks climbed into one of the black pickups, Hawkman circled the license number and wrote Clay's name beside it. He also jotted down male or female alongside the rest. Hawkman didn't suspect a female in this caper, but decided not to take a chance of missing a clue.

The parking lot soon emptied, except for a few vehicles, so Hawkman made his way into the building, and flipped on the recorder he carried in his pocket. He found Roy Summers at the back of the inside range, sitting on a bench, eating a sandwich and sipping on a fruit drink. “Hello, Mr. Summers."

Roy turned and smiled. “Have a seat."

Hawkman folded his lanky frame onto the bench. “Don't let me interrupt your dinner.

We can talk after you've finished."

Summers finally wadded up the wrapper and stuffed it into the sack, then tossed the debris into a trash can nearby. “How can I help you?"

"I'm not sure you can, but I'm hoping. I didn't realize you taught any classes other than the ones from the store."

"I couldn't make much of a living if I didn't."

"I can imagine it would be a bit hard. To get to the point. The class that just left, were they beginners?"

"Yes, most of them, I have a couple who came in to sharpen their skills."

"What about Clay Hicks?"

"He's new. Nice guy. Said his buddies had been after him to learn, so he decided to try it. He's a little awkward handling the compound bow, but I think he'll do okay."

"I'm really interested in learning about young men around their late twenties who have excelled in the archery field. They might not even be students at this time, but I have a feeling they've attended your classes in previous years. Do you recall any outstanding archer, say in the last five years?"