The Archer [Book 13 of the Hawkman Series] (9 page)

"Thank you. You've answered my questions."

"Glad I could be of help."

Hawkman left the building and walked around to the side so he could get a better view of the outdoor range. The lawns were well kept, the targets were set up in a neat row and lots of foliage protection prevented arrows from going astray. An excellent arrangement, he thought.

He strolled over to his vehicle, climbed in, and drove back to the office. He sat at his desk, read through the brochures he'd picked up at the range and scribbled some notes about what he'd learned. It looked like he'd have to make an appointment to talk to Roy Summers. The man ran a full blown business with his classes. He must have caught him between lessons when he spoke with him at the store.

Checking the time, he noted it was still too early to call Laura, so he went on the internet and did some research on archery. He discovered if a person privately ordered his arrows, he could specify the color of feather fletching he wanted. So it leaned more toward a preference, and not an indication of how good a bowman you were by a certain color. Also, it might have been easier to keep track of your own personal stash if they were all the same.

He visited several sites about the sport, and they all said about the same thing. He felt when he finished, he had a good insight on compound bows. He wondered what the American Indians would think about these new contraptions. They'd really evolved into quite a technical piece of machinery since the buffalo days.

Closing down the sites, he picked up the receiver and dialed Laura's cell phone. She answered immediately, and said she was on her way to her car, then straight home. He asked if it would be all right for him to come out to her place and she told him it would be fine. No, she hadn't heard from the harasser today, and she didn't know if her dad had gotten the phone records yet, but imagined he would have them tonight for sure.

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As Hawkman drove out toward the King's ranch, he paid close attention to any vehicle behind him. He planned on informing the family where he would place the tracker on Laura's car, but didn't want any prying eyes to observe the undertaking.

When he turned onto the gravel driveway leading up to the house, he noted a black pickup in front. He hoped a neighbor had just dropped by for a quick visit. It sure seemed like there were a lot of black vehicles on the road lately. It must be the “in” color for trucks right now.

Hawkman spotted the rear end of Laura's green Toyota parked at the back. It tempted him to drive around, but still thought it might be a bit presumptuous, so he pulled behind the black Ford. He carried his briefcase with the GPS inside and knocked on the front door.

Olly answered. “Hello, Mr. Casey. Come in. Have you met the Higgins boys?"

"Only Joey."

"Meet Jim and Jerry, they're John's older twin sons."

Both boys smiled and stuck out their hands. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Casey."

"I saw you two riding in from the field when I left your place the other night, but I couldn't tell you were twins. Happy to make your acquaintance."

One of the boys turned to Olly. “We'll be on our way. Mom wanted us to drop off the pie for you guys. She got crazy in the kitchen and made more pastries than we can handle."

Violet came out of the kitchen drying her hands on a tea towel. “You tell your mom, we're very grateful for her thinking of us. We love her pies."

The boys waved. “Sure will, Mrs. King. You all have a good evening."

After the brothers left, Mrs. King nodded at Hawkman. “How are you Mr. Casey? Laura's out tending to her baby lamb; she'll be in shortly."

"No problem,” Hawkman said, placing his valise on a chair.

Olly picked up a folder from the dining room table. “I got the telephone records for Laura's phone. I can't make heads or tails out of them, but I'm sure you'll know what to look for."

"Good,” Hawkman said, and flipped open the folder. He glanced through the pages. “Is it okay if I take these back to my office?"

"Sure, I got the list for you. I have no use for them."

Hawkman placed the sheets in his briefcase and when he turned back around, Olly had hooked his fingers into his jeans and stood with a lowered head. “I owe you an apology, Mr. Casey. Violet and Laura both scolded me the other night for putting a limit on how soon I expected you to find this man who's threatening my women. I realize now, it might take longer than a week to find this guy, but it scared me to think about my daughter being run through with an arrow. I won't put a limit on you; just find this crazy person before he does my Laura harm."

"I plan on it, Mr. King. I'm here this afternoon to tell your family my next move. When Laura gets through with tending her pet, I'll explain."

"Let me get those gals in here,” Olly said as he turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen.

Hawkman could hear him order his wife to get Laura and come into the living room. Within a few minutes, the Kings were huddled together on the couch as Hawkman faced them in a straight back chair.

"I'm sure you're wondering what this crazy, one-eyed private detective has in store for you now. First of all, Mr. King, thank you for removing the time limit. I really appreciate it and I'm sure Laura does too."

Laura jerked her head around and gave her dad a big grin.

Hawkman reached into his briefcase and brought out the GPS tracker. Olly leaned forward and furrowed his brow.

"What in the heck is that contraption?"

"It's a tracking system. I'll put this,” he held up a small square box, “on Laura's car in an inconspicuous place. Like under the fender. It's got a strong magnet, so it will hold tight.” Then he displayed his iPhone. I'll be able to track her vehicle on my cell or computer, in case she gets into a situation where she can't contact me."

"Wow!” Laura said. “That's neat. I hope it doesn't record my voice."

Hawkman smiled. “No, just where your car is going. I don't want you to worry about me invading your privacy. This is for your safety only.” He placed the tracker on the small coffee table. “What I need is your permission to put this on your car."

Laura turned to her folks. “What do you think?"

"I think it's an excellent idea,” Violet said.

Olly nodded. “Me, too. When do you plan on doing this?"

"Right now. I have the tracker charged to the hilt. So it should last four or five days, since Laura isn't driving all the time. It has a sensor on it which puts it in a sleep mode when there's no car motion. It saves the battery life while she's at school, and her vehicle is parked."

"What happens when the battery gets low?” Laura asked.

"It will give me a signal, and I'll contact you. I'll leave the charger, and all you have to do is remove it, plug it in at night and by morning it will be ready to put back on the car. However, when you take off the tracker, make sure no one else is around. We don't know who the harasser is, so we don't want him to see you placing this on your vehicle."

Laura stood and picked up the small instrument, studying it as she turned it over in her hands. “This is quite a piece of technology."

"Yes, it is. I'm hoping we don't have to rely on it, but it's a good safety factor."

"It will definitely make me feel better,” she said, handing it to Hawkman. “Let's go attach it."

The whole family joined in the walk through the kitchen and out the back door. Laura's Toyota was parked close to the back of the house, which made it easier for Hawkman to install the tracker under the front fender. He had Laura feel where he'd put it. “Try to get it off and you'll see it's very tight and solid."

"Oh, gee, I might not be able to do this trick,” she said, groaning as she tried to pull it off.

"If you have trouble, let your dad do it.” He motioned for Olly.

The farmer got down on his haunches, and with his big, strong hands had no trouble prying off the black box. He grinned up at his daughter. “I can get this thing off for you, no problem. You just let me know.” Glancing at Hawkman, he said. “You want me to put it back?"

"Yes, please."

Violet stood rubbing her arms. “I'm going back inside. It's nippy out here."

They all followed her into the kitchen.

"How about a cup of coffee, everyone? she said. “Oh, and how about a slice of pie with it?"

"Sounds good to me,” Olly said."

They pulled out the chairs around the kitchen table and sat down. Violet served each a piece of peach pie.

"Margy's pies are delicious. She cans peaches all summer and has an ample supply in her cellar. We're lucky to be one of the families she shares with."

Hawkman took a bite, and looked up at the ceiling. “Man, I think I've gone to heaven, this is delicious. Please tell Mrs. Higgins for me."

Violet laughed. “I sure will."

He turned to Laura between savoring the next bite. “Are you going to be driving tomorrow?"

"Yes, Mom and I have some shopping to do."

"Good. It will give me the opportunity to check out the GPS and make sure it's working right. Could you give me a call before you leave?"

"Sure.” She glanced at her mother. “Don't let me forget."

"I won't."

"Also, any calls from this guy, save them like you did the last one."

Laura frowned. “Don't worry, I will."

They chit-chatted for a few more minutes, then Hawkman rose. “I must get on my way. Thank you for your hospitality.” He pointed at Laura. “Give me a call before you leave the house."

She nodded.

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When Hawkman pulled up to the Rileys’ house, a German shepherd barreled around the side, barking and snarling. He hesitated about getting out of the vehicle, as this dog meant business. Soon a man opened the front door.

"Princess, stop that right now."

The dog skulked back around the house, and Hawkman climbed out of the SUV.

"Sorry about her. She's very protective."

"No apology needed,” Hawkman said. “I'm assuming you're Bob Riley?"

"Sure am."

Hawkman held out his hand. “I'm Tom Casey, private investigator."

"Oh, yeah, John Higgins told me about you. Come on in."

They entered the front door and stepped into a sparsely furnished living room. Second hand furniture surrounded a large throw rug in the middle, where two small children about the ages of four and six played on the floor. “This is Megan and Scott."

"Hello, Megan and Scott,” Hawkman said.

They both said a meager “hello", picked up their toys and left the room. Shortly, a young slim woman with long dishwater blond hair pulled back in a pony tail, stepped into the room. She wore faded jeans, a green plaid long-sleeved shirt and scuffed boots.

"Meet my wife, Paula. Honey, this is Tom Casey, the private investigator John and Margy told us about."

She held out her hand. “Nice making your acquaintance. Have a seat. Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

"No, thanks. I'll only be a minute. I just need to ask your husband about bow hunting."

She laughed. “You won't need me in here; I know nothing about it. So please excuse me, as I need to tend to dinner."

"You go right ahead,” Hawkman said, sniffing the air. “It smells delicious."

A coy smile formed on her lips, “Thanks. It's been a pleasure meeting you.” She turned and disappeared into the kitchen. The two children skipped behind her.

"What do you need to know?” Bob said.

Hawkman quickly ran through the story of the arrow hitting his office door, then the flat tire. “I think I'm dealing with a person who is on the brink of being dangerous. On your hunting trips, have you run across any reckless bowman?"

"I don't know if John mentioned we've only been here a couple of years. Trying to get our place in order and get established in the community has been mighty time consuming. I only got to hunt twice and went out with John and his boys. Those guys are considerate and very cautious with their bows. So I'm afraid I can't help you at all."

"I understand,” Hawkman said. “If you see anything or notice anyone carelessly using a compound bow, will you give me a ring?” He handed him a business card.

"I certainly will."

Hawkman stood. “Thanks for chatting with me. I wish your family the best in getting your place fixed up."

"Thanks. It's been a lot of work, but we're making headway."

Hawkman drove out of Riley's property and onto the road. He didn't think he'd gather much information out of Bob, since Laura had told him they were a young family and had only been in the area a couple of years. Next he needed to talk to the two students from the college Laura had mentioned. He'd jotted down their names, and since she thought they were local, he might be able to find them in the phone book. Also, tonight he'd call Summers and set up an appointment.

He didn't feel so pressed, now that Mr. King had lifted the time frame on the investigation. It definitely relieved his mind, and he believed Laura's too. Now with the GPS tracker on her car, he'd know immediately if she veered off the normal track from school to grocery store or home. He felt confident she'd let him know if she went to a friend's house or another venue. She obviously didn't date or attend many social events, and this made him wonder if she was shy around her peers. Her looks were fine, she had a good figure and seemed comfortable enough around adults. Something must have happened earlier in her life to make her keep an arm's length from men. He'd ask Jennifer what would make a young woman do such a thing.

He soon arrived at his office and glanced toward the door. “What the hell!” he exclaimed as he climbed out of the 4X4. Putting a hand on his hip, he studied the three arrows sticking in the wood of the building leading up the steps. Ribbons in yellow and black, hung from each shaft and flipped in the breeze. He glanced up and down the alley, then grabbed the briefcase, and headed up the stairs. Not touching the arrows at the moment, he hurried into his office. At least it had been left untouched. He slipped on a pair of latex gloves, picked up a paper sack beside the filing cabinet, went back outside and carefully removed the arrows, trying not to touch where there might be a fingerprint. Bringing the booty into his office, he placed the bag on his desk. Before looking over the arrows, he decided to check with Clyde at the donut shop, and see if he'd heard or seen anything.