In for the Kill [Hawkman Series Book 9]

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  Peggy laughed. “Ken, put her down. You're going to scare the poor little thing."

  He gently placed the animal on the floor and immediately, Miss Marple wound herself around his boots, purring."

  “She definitely likes you,” Jennifer said, smiling.

  “You want to take her home?” Hawkman asked. “She really knows how to shred toilet paper."

  Ken guffawed. “I'm not so sure how she'd like our big black lab, Du."

  “That little cat could make up to anything,” Hawkman said, as he pointed toward the window where their dog had her nose pressed against the outside glass.

  “That lab is such a lover, she'd probably protect Miss Marple with her life. However, I'm not giving my cat away,” Jennifer said, with a toss of her head. “So don't get any ideas, Ken Bronson."

  “Wait a minute. He just asked me if I wanted her."

  “She's not his to give away."

  Ken shrugged and glanced at Hawkman with a mischievous grin. “Okay, guess I'll leave her here. You heard the boss."

  Hawkman chuckled. “Can't say I didn't try."

  After several more minutes of small talk, Hawkman brought up the dilemma he faced. Then walked over to the phone and punched on the latest recording.

  Both officers scooted forward on their seats, as their interest piqued.

  Peggy turned toward Jennifer. “You should not be left alone. This man could be dangerous, especially after hearing his threatening message and what you've told us about Rita. Has he bothered Marie?"

  “Not that we know of,” Jennifer said. “I'm sure she would've called, and so far she hasn't."

  “If you see me in the Sheriff's vehicle out front, think nothing of it. I'll stay close by and patrol the area. If I get a Code 3, emergency call, and have to leave, I'll let you know. Otherwise, I'm on Code 5 which means ‘stake out'."

  “I hate for you to have to do this,” Jennifer moaned.

  “That's what your tax dollars pay for; we're here to protect you. It's our job."

  Ken glanced at Hawkman. “The same goes for you. Since this man comes from the Agency, he knows the tricks of the trade. You need your back covered. I'll check with Detective Williams and see if Medford's issued a warrant yet. If Ms. Rawlings has already posted a hit and run, that's enough. If a red jeep has been stolen, there's a good chance every officer is on the lookout in Oregon and California. I'll check with headquarters tonight and see if anything's come in. If he's the one who conked you on the head, I don't want you looking for this crazy man by yourself. It's too risky."

  Hawkman saluted. “Yes, Sir!"

  “Don't give me any of that ‘yes, sir’ business, just heed my word.” Ken pointed at him. “The next time you start searching the country side, I want to be with you."

  “Thanks. Sounds like a good deal. And if I expect my wife to pay attention. Guess I better do the same or she'll have me strung up."

  Jennifer nodded. “You got that right."

  After the Bronsons left, Hawkman plopped down on his chair. “I feel better now with them aware of the situation. We'll have extra protection this way."

  * * * *

  The next morning, Hawkman prepared to leave for the doctor's appointment Jennifer had set up to get his stitches removed. Getting those blasted sutures out would make his head feel a lot better. His scalp itched like crazy, but he didn't dare scratch.

  Before leaving, he took a tour around the outside of the house and checked all the windows, noticing the outlet cover hadn't been bothered for a couple of days. Things appeared normal. Satisfied, he went back inside. When he stepped into the kitchen, the phone rang. He immediately moved closer just as Jennifer walked from the back of the house with Miss Marple close at her heels. She stopped at the edge of the counter, her expression somber.

  “Hello, Tom, Bill Broadwell. Give me a call."

  “He immediately punched the speaker phone. “Hello, Bill, Hawkman here."

  “I can't get used to calling you Tom Casey, and now you want me to call you Hawkman."

  “Whatever's easiest. I'll answer to anything."

  “Fair enough. I think we might have some of this mystery about Jack Hargrove partially solved."

  “I'm listening."

  “Do you remember a Raymond Skokie?"

  “I'll never forget him. We were on an assignment together and he stepped on a land mine. It almost blew off his leg."

  “He's Jack Hargrove's stepson."

  Hawkman flopped down on the bar stool. “You jest?"

  “No. Turns out Jack married Ray's mother, who was a widow at the time, and Ray was just a little guy, three or four years old. They weren't able to have children, so Jack raised the boy as his own. He had high dreams of his stepson becoming a super spy. After the accident, all those dreams blew up in his face as Ray was never allowed in the field again. Two years ago, Jack's wife passed away of cancer, and he retired. I spoke with Raymond, who still works here. He said his dad hasn't been the same since his accident. And the death of his mom seemed to have pushed him over the edge."

  “How in the world does he connect me to Ray's calamity? We were out in the field heading toward different sides of a building when it occurred. I wasn't near the man."

  “Ray doesn't blame you. But he said his dad felt like since you were the most seasoned agent, it should have been you going in the direction where the bomb had been placed."

  “That's sick thinking. How would I have known about a bomb? And I wouldn't have sent any man into an area if I thought he'd be in harm's way."

  “Ray said he couldn't understand his dad's thinking. He worked for the Agency and knew how things ran. Ray said he'd asked his dad numerous times how he'd have managed the situation."

  “How'd he respond?"

  “He said Jack made comments about how he wasn't a haughty, bullheaded man like Jim Anderson. Ray even tried to explain how he liked you and asked to be on your team. But it didn't appear to make any difference. His dad still blamed you for crippling his son."

  “This is not good news. I always liked Skokie. He was an excellent agent and I'm sure he's good at whatever he's doing now."

  “Ray also told me his dad took the I.D. pictures out of the file, because he didn't want people remembering what he looked like."

  “Did you tell Skokie what we suspected?"

  “Only after he told me his dad had disappeared and he had no idea where he'd gone. He's quite concerned. I have a feeling Ray might contact you."

  “It could help."

  After hanging up, Hawkman rubbed his face and exhaled loudly. Jennifer gazed at him with concern.

  “It appears Bill's news has upset you."

  He nodded. “Immensely."

  “You want to talk about it?"

  “Yeah. Let me get a cup of coffee."

  He sat back down and thumbed his fingers on the counter. “This is really bad. How the hell does one go after a sick man? And he's obviously deranged."

  “Do you think if Ray came out here, he could talk some sense into his dad?"

  “I don't know,” Hawkman said, shaking his head. “Skokie hasn't had any luck so far. I'm not sure it would do any good."

  “It might be worth a try."

  “Maybe. If he calls, I'll see what he thinks."

  Hawkman left for the doctor's appointment and returned within a few hours. While driving over the lake bridge, he spotted Peggy's vehicle parked near the mailbox under a shade tree. He gave a wave as he turned the corner and drove into the driveway. After disarming the alarm, he stepped into the house, gave Jennifer a quick kiss on the cheek and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He moseyed onto the deck and stood looking out over the water. Jennifer picked up the cat and whispered. “Miss Marple, your master has a lot on his mind. I think it best we leave him alone for awhile."

  Later that afternoon, Hawkman spoke with Detective Williams and no local car theft had been reported. But as Jennifer had said, people were gone during the Spring break and
more than likely they wouldn't hear anything until the weekend.

  He strolled back to his office. Miss Marple followed a few feet behind and stopped at the doorway. She sat on her haunches and watched as Hawkman rummaged through a cabinet hanging on the wall. He placed two small survivor kits on the desk.

  He sat down, opened up the larger day hunter kit, measuring 6x4x2, which held everything he needed and could be carried on his belt. Taking out the tin inside, he popped it open, dumped out the smaller items and took inventory. He checked off the essential articles: Things needed to light and make a fire, a mini-match magnesium fire starter and steel striker. Water and food: purification tablets, water bag, fishing tackle kit. Signaling: mirror. Navigation: compass. Knives and tools: folding wallet knife, cable saw and 2 X-Actop knife blades. Medical: small packet of antibiotic ointment, gauze pads, and 2 butterfly closures. Multipurpose: thread, magnetized sewing needles, magnifier, tweezers, pencil, waterproof paper, laminated instructions on water purification and fishing knots, safety pins and aluminum foil.

  He left the room to find some replacements for a couple of bent pins, bandages and water. When he returned, he caught Miss Marple in his chair about ready to hop onto the desk. He swooped her up into the crook of his arm.

  “Oh, no you don't, little lady. Those things are not toys and could be mighty dangerous to a kitten.” He put her back on the floor and scolded. “There are some items in this house you're not to bother and this is one of them."

  Miss Marple flopped on the floor, stretched out her back legs and gave him a big yawn.

  Hawkman snickered. “I don't think you believe a word I've said."

  Jennifer poked her head into the room. “Is Miss Marple giving you a hard time?"

  “No, I'm giving it to her. She thinks her paws should be into everything. One nosey and curious animal."

  “You want me to take her out of here?"

  “She's fine. I need to teach her she can't stick her little sniffer into every opening. It might not be safe."

  Jennifer put a hand on her hip. “And may I ask how you plan on accomplishing the impossible?"

  He glanced up from his chore of placing the items back into the kit. “Not sure, but I'll think of something."

  She moved to the desk and studied the articles scattered across the surface. “What are you doing?"

  “Getting my survival kits ready for when I go trekking into the hills to find Hargrove. I might not even need them. But they're good to have, just in case."

  “Oh,” she said, putting a hand to her throat. “When do you plan going on this trek?"

  “Tomorrow."

  “I'm assuming you'll let Ken know."

  “I'll give him a call. But if he can't make it, I'll go alone."

  Jennifer glared at him. “I see. You sure pay attention to the authorities."

  “I can't expect the man to drop everything and go romping into the hills on a possible false run."

  “So, how long do you expect to be gone?"

  “Not sure, that's why I want to carry these."

  Jennifer knew better than to argue. She sighed and turned away. “I'll make you some sandwiches and put them in the refrigerator. And we have bottled water."

  “Perfect.” He closed the one similar to a fanny pack and set it aside, then opened the red medical kit.

  Jennifer headed toward the kitchen.

  This one had some duplications, but the lip balm, blister pads and moleskin could come in handy, along with tissues, Handiwipes, surgical gloves and a Mini Maglite. It appeared complete, so he zipped it closed and pushed the two to the corner of the desk. He leaned over toward the cat. “Okay, Miss nosey, you want to see what I have up here?"

  She came to her feet and stretched, then meandered over so he could pick her up. He placed her in his lap. She put her front paws on the top of the desk, looked around, then jumped to the floor and stalked out of the room.

  Hawkman guffawed. “Not near as interesting as you thought.” He came out of the office laughing as he closed the door behind him.

  Jennifer glanced up as she squatted in front of one of the kitchen cabinets. “What's so funny?"

  “Miss Marple."

  “She can definitely make a person smile with her antics."

  He glanced at the counter and picked up some envelopes. “When did you get the mail?"

  “A few minutes ago. Don't tell me I'm not allowed to walk to the mailbox?"

  “You should be okay in broad daylight with Peggy patrolling the area, but don't count on it. Just make sure you have your gun and take notice of your surroundings."

  “Don't worry, you've instilled those instructions into my brain. There wasn't a soul around, not even Peggy."

  “It might be best you go right at noon, when everyone is heading for the box to pick up their mail. There's safety in numbers."

  “You're probably right. Tomorrow I'll make it a point to go when the neighbors are there."

  The jangle of the phone interrupted their conversation. They each looked at one another, then shot a glance toward the instrument.

  “I'm ready to unplug that blasted thing,” Jennifer mumbled.

  “I'd like to speak with Jim, uh, excuse me, Tom Casey. This is Ray Skokie. Would you please call me..."

  Before he could give the number, Hawkman picked up the receiver. “Hello, Ray, this is Tom Casey."

  * * *

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Hawkman replaced the phone and glanced at Jennifer leaning against the counter.

  “I couldn't make heads or tails out of the conversation, you didn't say much,” she said.

  “Ray wants to come out here next week and help me search for his dad."

  “You think that's a good idea?"

  “He's very crippled and if we go into the hills. I'm afraid he'll slow me down considerably."

  “Maybe he's more agile than you think. After all these years, he might have adjusted to his handicap."

  Hawkman rubbed a hand along the back of his neck and grimaced. “I doubt it; the man's leg was badly maimed. I'm not sure if he has an artificial one or they just repaired the limb. But regardless, it's rough terrain and I doubt he could manipulate it very well."

  “You're not really sure Jack Hargrove is in the hills, are you?"

  “No, I'm not. But lots of evidence points to it. And I have a feeling he's not far away. Since you saw that jeep going toward Topsy Grade and I never saw a sign of it when I came down the road. My guess is he's making his camp close."

  She tapped the counter top with her fingernails. “I have a feeling you're right. He wants to be near enough to give us a hard time without having to travel a long distance."

  “Plus, if he stole the Willys jeep, he'll keep it hidden and only use it in case he needs a getaway vehicle. Taking into account Rita's and Clyde's description, the man's obviously in good shape. After all, he was with the Agency, and worked in the field, so he'll know how to survive. I figure he'll be on foot most of the time."

  Jennifer folded her arms across her waist. “So what's your plan? I hope you're including Ken."

  Hawkman shrugged. “I want to find Jack before Skokie gets here."

  “How long do you think it'll take? Are you going to be so far away you can't return home in the evening?"

  “I don't know, but I won't stop searching, so I might be gone overnight."

  “What will you do if you find his hiding place?"

  “Nothing. I'll leave, then take Skokie there when he arrives and let him try to talk some sense into his dad. But if Jack discovers me sneaking around and tries anything foolish, I'll have to take him down. I don't want to kill the man, but I might not have a choice."

  Jennifer silently crossed the kitchen, bent down in front of the cabinet and removed a couple of items. “I have two flip top cans of pork and beans. Would you like me to pack those?"

  “Yes, thanks. I won't need a lot of food, but I'll exert plenty of energy hiking around, and it'll be nice h
aving something to munch."

  * * * *

  The next morning, Hawkman went into Medford and stopped by the police station. He poked his head around the door jamb of Detective Williams’ office. “Didn't know if I'd find you in, but took a chance."

  “Same old stuff. My autograph is really in demand lately. I'm beginning to feel like a movie star."

  Hawkman snickered. “I don't think it's quite the same."

  “Boy, you sure know how to break a guy's bubble. I was beginning to like the job again.” He tossed his pen on the desk and leaned back. “Now that you've ruined my day, what can I do for you?"

  “Wondered if you'd had any stolen vehicle reports?"

  “Let me make a quick call.'’ He moved forward, picked up the phone and punched in an extension. “Maggie, Detective Williams. Anything new on stolen vehicles?” He glanced up and whispered. “She's checking."

  Hawkman nodded.

  “Yeah, thanks. Make a copy and send it over.” He hung up. “You might find this one of interest. By the way, Ken Bronson called this morning and told me you had a talk with him and Peggy. He also wanted to know about Hargrove."

  “I like the feeling of having more eyes on the house. I don't like Jennifer there alone."

  In a few minutes, a skinny middle-aged woman walked into the office. “Here you go, detective."

  “Thanks, Maggie."

  He looked it over, then handed the report to Hawkman, who read the description aloud. “A 1954 CJ3B red Willys jeep stolen from the driveway at...” He didn't have to read the rest as he figured the jeep had been spotted at Copco Lake. “I think this is the one Jennifer saw. I haven't spotted it yet, but the description fits. Can I take this printout?"

  “Sure. The license plate number is listed, along with all the extras. You think our hit and run man has it?"

  “Very probable. I think he's hiding in the hills. I'm going to see if I can find him."

  “Let me know, and we'll contact the Bronsons to go capture our villain and recover the vehicle."

  “Will do. Thanks, Williams."

  Hawkman decided not to tell the detective about Jack's stepson just yet. He left the station, stopped by the grocery store, then headed home.