Shadows in the Night [Hawkman--Book 12]

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  When Hawkman approached the receptionist, she glanced up and sucked in her breath.

  “Hello, Mr. Casey. Can I help you?”

  “I'd like to speak with Mr. Mackle. I only need a couple minutes.”

  “I'll see if he's available.” She left her desk, knocked softly on the closed door between the two offices, then stepped inside. Returning within a few seconds, she gestured for Hawkman to enter.

  “He'll see you now.”

  Mr. Mackle stood and held out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Casey. I hope you don't have bad news.”

  “Neither bad nor good. I need to know how many master keys are floating around.”

  He frowned. “Only my top staff are issued them. We have to be able to get into the flats in case there's an emergency. It would be foolish to only have one set in my office, which could cause a delay in getting help.”

  “I understand. How many are out there?”

  “Six.”

  “Who has them?”

  “I have one, plus an extra in my safe. The others were given to, Lisa Montgomery, Perry Foster, Don Jackson, and Carmen Sanders.”

  “Do they carry them or are they left in their offices?”

  “Preferably, they secure them on their main key rings. I've instructed my employees not to leave the keys in an unlocked office. That would be asking for trouble.”

  “Have you ever had a resident complain about an invasion of their rooms?”

  Mackle shook his head. “Never.”

  “I won't keep you any longer. Thank you for being candid with me. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. The sooner we can get the police out of here, the happier I'll be.”

  “How are the people doing?”

  “My staff are nervous wrecks. A few of the residents have complained about having to retreat to their rooms after dinner. I've assured them all, things will be back to normal very soon. One advantage in dealing with the older population, they do adjust well. However, I don't want to lose any tenants, and their patience will only hold out so long before they feel their freedoms are being trampled on. I can't blame them, they want to be able to take care of themselves as long as possible. This investigation is hampering their independence.”

  “Hopefully, things will be resolved quickly.”

  Hawkman left Mackle's office and went back to see if Williams was free. When he entered the makeshift office, he saw him reading what looked like a report. The detective glanced up, put it down, and leaned back in his chair.

  “I'm going to go question the Hamptons in a few minutes. I hope the Mister is there too. You want to come?”

  “George should be at her apartment by now. I think I better stay out of it. Maggie's not happy with me, and it would just hamper your interrogation.”

  “Have you stumbled onto anything that might help us out?”

  “I spoke with Mr. Mackle about master keys. It appears several employees carry them, and have access to the apartments.”

  “Did you find out their names?”

  “Yes, but haven't had a chance to examine their resumes.”

  “I'm going to have to pull my men out of here tomorrow, as we've got a big drug sting coming up in the next few days. Hope you'll stay around and keep a handle on things.”

  “If word gets out about the Hamptons firing me, I don't think the facility would be comfortable with me hanging about.”

  Williams tapped his temple with his forefinger. “I'm sure you owe me one. What about if I ask you to keep on investigating without pay?”

  Hawkman suppressed a grin. “Do you remember the favor you did for me?”

  “Not right off the top of my head, but I'm sure there's one.”

  “Sounds good. I'd like to nose around here for a while, as my gut tells me there's something going on.”

  “I'll speak with Mr. Mackle and tell him I've hired you. I'll give him the word to cooperate fully.”

  “You think he'll buy it?”

  He pulled out his badge and flipped open the leather holder. “This works wonders.”

  “You're right.”

  About that moment, one of the officers walked into the room. “Did you call for me, sir?”

  Williams stood. “Yes, I want you to accompany me while a question one of the residents.”

  Hawkman stepped back. “If you don't mind, I'll wander around until you're through. I'd like to hear the results of this interview.”

  Williams furrowed his brows. “Are you trying to tell me something I don't already know?”

  Hawkman grinned as he watched the two men head for the elevator. “Good luck.”

  Meandering over to the library section, he spotted a newspaper and decided to catch up on the news. He sat down in one of the luxurious leather chairs facing the living room, so he wouldn't miss the detective when he returned from questioning Maggie. Engrossed in an article, he jerked his head around when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Sorry, Mr. Casey, I didn't mean to disturb you.”

  “Hello, Mr. Jackson. No problem, I'm just waiting for Detective Williams. Where have you been? The only Marketing Director I've seen around here lately has been Ms. Sanders.”

  “She did double time for me when I caught a virus and had to stay home. I just returned to work today, and Mr. Mackle informed me about all that's been going on. What a shock.”

  Hawkman folded up the paper. “Do you have a minute?”

  Don sat down in the chair next to him. “Sure.”

  “Do you carry a master key to all the apartments.”

  “Yes. If there's an emergency, I need to get into the room immediately.”

  “I understand where that would be a necessity. Do you ever enter the private quarters at any other times.”

  “On occasions one of the residents might ask me to retrieve something for them, you know, like a sweater or coat. One time a woman asked me to get her purse. She'd walked off without it and it had her key inside. Sometimes they lock themselves out, so it comes in handy.”

  “I can definitely see why. Tell me about Ms. Sanders. She seems a bit distant.”

  “She's different, but gets along very well with the residents.” Don stood. “I could visit for hours, but guess I better get busy with my duties.”

  “Thanks for your time. I appreciate it.”

  Hawkman watched Jackson take off down the hallway. About that time, the elevator door slid open. Williams and his officer stepped out on the main floor. He could tell by the frown on the detective's face, things had not gone well.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Detective Williams excused his officer, then motioned for Hawkman. “We need to talk.”

  The two men entered the makeshift office. Williams flopped down in the chair and ran his hands across his face. “I'm still trying to figure out how the hell you worked with those two people, especially, Maggie?”

  “Did she give you a hard time again?”

  “When I started questioning her about the insulin, she yelled at me and told me to get out.”

  “Were you able to settle her down?”

  “Not until I told her I'd take her to headquarters, throw her in jail, then search her apartment, if she didn't cooperate.”

  “Have you come to a conclusion about the couple?”

  Williams nodded. “The Hamptons are number one on my suspects list. Especially, the woman.”

  Hawkman stiffened. “Really! Why?”

  “Her attitude. A very cocky and obstinate person. She told me if it hadn't been for you being so nosey, none of this would be happening. No one would have found out Gladys Owens died of an overdose, if you hadn't suggested an autopsy.”

  Hawkman shook his head. “That's all circumstantial evidence. She's very aggressive when you push her buttons. I don't think she'd kill anyone.”

  Williams stared at Hawkman. “That's where we differ.”

  “I'm not doubting your reason
ing. It's just hard for me to believe.”

  “I can see where you'd never expect those two to plan a scheme. You were to close to the situation. He hired you on the premise of finding a killer. Naturally, you wouldn't look in their direction.”

  “You've definitely got a point. Who else do you have on your list?”

  “No one right now. I'm hoping while I'm directing the outside sting operation you'll be able to get some information on the staff. With luck, this project won't take too long and I'll be able to get back with you in less than a week.”

  “After you get Mackle's approval, I'll start probing.”

  “I'm heading there now. Maybe I can catch him before he leaves for the day.”

  “I'll wait here to get your report.”

  “Okay, I should be back in a few.”

  Detective Williams scurried down the hallway and made a beeline for Mackle's office. It didn't take fifteen minutes before he returned. He gave Hawkman the okay sign. “We're set; he'll cooperate with you fully and have his staff do the same. I'm taking my men out tonight. So feel free to start first thing in the morning.”

  Hawkman stood. “I'll be here early.”

  * * * *

  When Hawkman arrived home, Jennifer bombarded him with questions about the Hamptons. “At least Detective Williams wants you to remain on the case. Do you really think George or Maggie are capable of murder?”

  “I wish I could answer your question. At first, I certainly didn't have them on my list, but Williams is convinced they've played me for a fool. After I thought about it, I'm not sure what to think.”

  Jennifer frowned. “If they're guilty of foul play, they used you, but not as a fool. You're not a dummy.”

  He smiled. “Thank you, my sweet wife. Now, I've got to get some sleep. I have much work to do tomorrow.”

  Wednesday morning, Hawkman scooted out of bed, so as not to awaken Jennifer, dressed and grabbed a yogurt out of the refrigerator to eat on the way to Medford. He had his briefcase stored under the passenger seat, so he didn't need to stop at the office, so he drove straight to Morning Glory Haven.

  As he strolled through the large recreation room, carrying the valise, he noticed the place had a lighter atmosphere as the residents sat at the tables with their cups of coffee, talking and laughing. The minute they saw him, the chatter ceased and he felt their stares follow him across the room. He hurried through and went to Mr. Mackle's office where he was immediately admitted.

  “Hello, Mr. Casey,” Mackle said. “Detective Williams talked to me about you taking over the investigation for a few days until he and his officers returned. How can I help you?”

  “I'm sure you were hoping this would be over by now, but we still haven't come to any conclusions and need more information. It appears you've informed the residents the police have left.”

  “Yes, I conferred with the detective and he said I could relax the rules until they got back.”

  “Excellent, because my job is to go through the files of your staff and it won't involve any of the patrons.”

  “Good, they'll be able to enjoy a few days without the feeling of being watched. How can I help?”

  “I'd like all the resumes and application forms from each of the staff when they applied for their jobs. I'd like to start with your top members and work down the list. Who should I talk to about obtaining these records?”

  “My manager, Peter Foster. I'll accompany you to his office.”

  The two men stepped into the hallway and walked down the corridor. Mr. Mackle instructed Foster to cooperate fully with Hawkman. He then left the two men to work out the specifics.

  “Good seeing you again, Mr. Casey.”

  “Same here,” Hawkman said, as they shook hands.

  “How would you like to do this?”

  “I'm sure you don't want the originals removed, and you certainly don't want me taking up a corner of your office for several days. I'll pick out what I need from each file and make copies.

  “Sounds fine. Whose would you like to see first?”

  “I'd like to start with Mr. Mackle.”

  Perry raised his brows. “I'm sorry, but we don't have his file in this office. It would be with the owner, since he's the one who hires the executive directors for the homes.”

  “Okay, let's begin with yours, and go down the line.”

  He moved to the filing cabinet in the far corner, removed several folders, and carried them to the desk. “This should keep you busy. Hand me the papers you want copied and I'll tend to that task.” Perry opened a drawer and gave Hawkman a couple of empty folders. “You can put your copies in these.”

  “Thanks.”

  They worked closely as Hawkman went through each folder and meticulously chose what he wanted. Perry copied the papers, placed the originals back in the files and handed Hawkman the duplicates.

  “We've gone through what I'd call the top staff. Do you want to start on the secondary employees?”

  Hawkman raised his hand. “Not right now. These will keep me busy. However, I don't see a file for Carmen Sanders.”

  Foster shuffled through the stack of folders on his desk. “You're right.” Going back to the filing cabinet, he got down on his haunches and sorted through the rest, then stood with his fist on his hips. That's odd; I haven't needed any of these files for at least a year. Let me check with Ms. Montgomery.” He crossed over to the phone, picked it up and dialed. After several seconds, he hung up. “She's not available right now. I'll check with her later and find out if she's got it, or knows where it went.”

  After placing the folders into his briefcase, Hawkman stood. “I'll stop by this afternoon or tomorrow, and see if you've found it. Thank you for your patience and taking the time to work with me on collecting this data. I really appreciate it.”

  Perry smiled. “No problem. I hope you find everything in order and no shadows cast on our small group.”

  “I hope so, too.”

  Hawkman left the home and went to his office. While his computer booted up, he put on the coffee pot and settled in for some serious investigating.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Hawkman removed his hat, hung it on the nail nearby, pulled the two folders of copies from his briefcase, and leaned back in his chair. The first group of papers he picked from the file were Perry Foster's. He read through the resume and discovered Foster had been with another company for years before moving in as Manager of Morning Glory Haven. A letter of recommendation was attached and indicated he'd been a highly successful manager. Unfortunately, the former company had folded.

  Foster had served four years in the military, graduated from college, married, and had three children. He played an active role in the community and his church. The man had worked steadily for many years, and appeared to be a level headed guy. Hawkman saw no black marks that would indicate any sort of problems.

  He took a new file from his desk, marked it ‘read’ with a black marker, and placed Foster's papers inside, then pulled the next set toward him. These belonged to Lisa Montgomery. He noted she'd held down several jobs, and had never been married. She had a college education with a major in business management. Her former employments were in the same field, but it appeared she'd searched for a better salary, as she had the full responsibility of her elderly mother, who shared the home. Several letters of recommendations from former employers were attached, along with a letter from her pastor. She'd also taken several classes in her field at the local college.

  Hawkman saw nothing suspicious in her records. He slid the papers into the read file, and poured himself a cup of coffee. Before sitting back down, he walked over to the window and stared out over the parking lot. His mind drifted to his dealings with George and Maggie. He didn't agree with Detective Williams, but he'd been wrong before. He shook his head and ventured back to the desk.

  The next set of papers belonged to Don Jackson, the marketin
g director who'd showed him around Morning Glory Haven, and whom he'd just seen again. He had graduated from high school, and college, then gone into the service, where he served eight years, spending the majority of the time in a Special Service Unit in Iraq. Hawkman read on quite impressed with the accomplishments of this young man. His talents included top marksmanship with several different types of weapons, along with speaking three different languages fluently.

  Hawkman wondered why this young man in his late thirties, with such a great background, would settle on being a Marketing Director in an old folks home? It certainly didn't pay as much as he could be making. He realized jobs were scarce in this economy and it might just be a stopover gap in Jackson's life, until he could find something better. He was still single, so he only had to take care of his own needs. Maybe he just needed easy employment so he could enjoy some downtime after the service. Surely, he didn't hold a grudge against the elderly, especially, after seeing what they'd gone through in a war-torn country. There were several reference letters in the young man's favor, ranging from a ranking officer, to the pastor of a small local church.

  Hawkman put Jackson's papers into the read file. So far, he'd only gained a small insight into the people involved at Morning Glory Haven, no suspects. He'd noticed there were no updates on any of the files so far. Obviously, people were working out and doing well. Perry Foster had told him there were very decent perks at the facility for all the employees. Something that most companies were no longer offering.

  Standing and stretching his tall frame, Hawkman dumped the cold coffee down the sink in the half-bath, then poured a fresh cup and sat back down at the desk. He went through the rest of the top employees involved with the Independent Living part of the organization, which consisted of two chefs, the kitchen manager, head of the cleaning staff, and the top handy man. There were still many employees to check, but he'd decided to research a few at a time and see what he could come up with. So far, he lacked the file on Carmen Sanders.

  Placing the resumes into his briefcase, he'd just about decided to call it a day when he heard a loud banging which sounded vaguely familiar. He went to the door and looked down the stairwell. There stood George Hampton, with his cane in the air.