The Archer [Book 13 of the Hawkman Series]

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  “What do you mean?”

  Laura stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked Cindy in the eyes. “If you must know, my pet lamb was killed last night.”

  Cindy put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Laura, how horrible. Did a coyote get her?”

  Laura narrowed her eyes. “No, someone shot her with an arrow.”

  “How terrible. Why would a person kill such a sweet innocent animal?”

  “All I can say is, if I ever find out who did it, they'll have hell to pay.”

  The girls’ conversation was cut short as they entered the classroom. Once the lecturer finished, he dismissed the students, and Laura made a beeline for the parking lot. She didn't want to talk to Cindy anymore about her pet. The girl seemed insincere and her condolences sounded phony. Her friend had seen the lamb, knew her name and where the family kept her. She could also shoot a compound bow. Laura tried to wipe away the thought of Cindy having anything to do with the death of Wendy, but for some odd reason, she couldn't get it out of her mind.

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  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Laura slammed and locked the car door, then scoured the parking lot to see if anyone was hanging around. Not seeing a soul, even in a car, she started the Toyota with trembling hands, and hoped to find Mr. Casey on the way home.

  Halfway between her house and the college, she spotted the blue Ford; but now that her heart had quit racing, she decided to wait until they reached the ranch before showing him the note. She took a couple of deep breaths as she passed, then glanced up into her rearview mirror, and watched him bounce onto the blacktop.

  Soon, they turned into the driveway of the Kings’ ranch and drove to the back of the house as usual. She leaped out of her car and marched toward him as he opened the driver's side door. Her mouth turned down and eyes dancing with fire, she handed him a crunched piece of paper.

  “Look what I found crammed under my windshield wiper when I got out of class.”

  Hawkman figured from the looks of the paper, there would be no way to salvage any fingerprints. He opened the note to see in a smeary red paint resembling blood, words written in a finger paint fashion: “How does it feel to have your heart ripped out.”

  “Whoever wrote such a note has a warped mind,” Laura said, her voice shaking.

  “Not only does this person have an evil streak, he knows what happened last night. Did you tell anyone about the incident?”

  “Only Cindy, but not until the last period. She couldn't have possibly made it to my car before me.”

  “Unless she knew about it earlier in the day.”

  Laura frowned. “It's odd you'd say that. I thought it strange she asked me why I looked so sad. She's never been concerned about my appearance, as she's so involved with herself.”

  Hawkman noticed Olly standing at the back door and knew from the look on his face he'd found a replacement lamb.

  “Laura, you and Mr. Casey come inside. I have something to show you.”

  Hawkman stepped out of the Ford and followed Laura into the house. Violet sat in a chair with a small black lamb in her lap, feeding it from a bottle.

  Tears welled in Laura's eyes as she fell to her knees in front of her mother. “Oh, how precious.” She glanced at her Dad, then jumped up and threw her arms around his neck.

  “I know it won't replace Wendy, but it will help ease your pain,” he said, returning her hug.

  “I'm not putting it out in the pen for a while. I'll take a big box and make a place for it in my room until it's safe to put the little guy outside.”

  Violet looked up at her and smiled. “We're ahead of you. Dad has already rigged up a special area inside the house for your new pet. He even brought in a bale of hay and fixed a bed.”

  Laura smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I hate to interrupt, but I have an appointment and need to get back to town,” Hawkman said. “Laura, could I speak to you outside for a few minutes?”

  “Sure,” she said, giving the lamb a stroke as she stood.

  They walked to the Ford, and Hawkman leaned against the fender. “Has Cindy Brown ever been out here?”

  “Yes, a couple of times.”

  “Did she see Wendy?”

  “Oh, yeah. We took her for a walk out in the pasture. She told me she'd never had a pet and wondered what it would take to care for one. I recommended a cat or small dog would be her best bet. A lamb needs a farm, so you could keep it outside in a pen.”

  Hawkman pointed to the pasture behind the barn. “Was she aware the property next to you had a gate down the road?”

  “Yes, she knew. Dad took us over there to find a heifer that had gotten into the field through a broken fence. He needed me to help corral the cow and get her back where she belonged. Cindy went along for the ride.”

  Hawkman nodded.

  Laura gazed at him with a quizzical expression. “Why all the questions about Cindy?”

  “I'm not sure, but I have a lot of uncertainty in my mind about the young lady.”

  Laura scuffed her shoe on the ground. “I definitely don't trust her.”

  “How come? Isn't she your friend?”

  “A fair-weather one.”

  “What sort of association does she have with the Wallace brothers?”

  “She's never said much about them, other than she thinks they're good looking and wild.”

  “What about Jason Calderidge and Blake Russell?”

  “They follow her around like she's some sort of goddess. She loves the attention, and flirts with them continuously. I think it's just to keep them in tow.”

  Hawkman turned and opened the driver's side door. “I better get going and let you enjoy your new pet. Have you thought of a name for it yet?”

  She laughed. “I have to be around it for a while. The little critter's personality will help me decide.”

  He patted his shirt pocket. “I'm taking the note with me. Don't tell your folks about it yet. No need to worry them more.”

  “Okay. See you in the morning, then you'll have the weekend where you can sleep in.”

  He grinned. “It'll be nice.”

  Shutting the door, he turned the Ford around and headed toward the road. His thoughts centered on Cindy Brown. It would be interesting to talk with Brett Gibson tonight. The more he found out about this young woman's behavior, the more he felt Jennifer had hit the girl's temperament right on target.

  When he reached the outskirts of town, his stomach growled. Since he had plenty of time, he grabbed a hamburger, fries and soda at a drive through, then parked in front where he ate his fast food meal. He still had over an hour to kill before his meeting, so he decided to swing by the Arrow Point practice range.

  Hawkman pulled into the parking lot and immediately spotted Cindy's car. She was definitely an archery fanatic. He glanced up at the field, but didn't see anyone. The weather had rain in the forecast, and the sky had been overcast all day, but so far not one drop. This could be the reason the archers decided to practice indoors. It suited him fine. There were no windows on this side of the building except near the office, so he wouldn't be spotted looking in her car windows.

  He parked in the row behind, so he could casually walk by the vehicle without drawing any attention. Making sure he had his camera in his hand, he hopped out of the Ford and walked toward the building, passing the red Corvette. What he saw thrown in the back seat gave him a start. He quickly shot a few pictures, then went back to the SUV. He'd seen all he needed for now.

  He drove back to town and located the very expensive apartment complex where Brett Gibson lived. Hawkman checked his watch and noted he had fifteen minutes to spare. Pulling in to a visitor's slot, he took the note from his briefcase and rechecked the number. It appeared Brett lived on the second floor.

  Hawkman adjusted his hat, and made sure he had his badge in the pocket of his shirt. He closed the last two buttons on his jeans jacket so the shoulder holster didn't show m
uch of a bulge. Walking into the plush lobby, he went to the elevator and rode up to the second floor. Exiting, he checked the directions and noticed the number 205 veered off to his left.

  He approached the door and rang the bell. A tall sandy haired young man greeted him. Hawkman introduced himself and showed his license.

  “Please, come in. I'm still struck by your call,” Brett said as he gestured toward a brown leather couch. “Have a seat. Can I fix you a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I'm fine.”

  “If you don't mind, I think I'll have one.”

  “No problem.”

  Hawkman observed the man to be about six foot, with wide shoulders, and large biceps as if he worked out in a gym. He noticed Brett had a slight limp and wondered if it might be from a recent injury or his normal walk.

  “I don't know if I can be of much help concerning Cindy Brown, as we only go out occasionally.”

  “I understood you were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  Brett shook his head and smiled. “Not quite. She's a very lovely and charming young woman, but not someone I want to be tied down to.”

  “Why's that?”

  “I'm really looking for a more mature woman.”

  “I see. Can you tell me about some of those immature characteristics you've observed?”

  “Right off the top of my head, one incident pops into my mind. I attended a wedding with her, where she was a bridesmaid; and while doing her thing as part of the wedding party, I ended up sitting with a very attractive young woman she'd introduced me to. During the whole ceremony, Cindy shot daggers through us. Later I asked her about her friend and she got furious. More like a jealous rage.”

  “Did the girl happen to be Laura King?”

  He clicked his fingers. “Yes. Laura King, a very bright female. I couldn't remember her name, and didn't dare ask Cindy. Excuse me a moment.” Taking a pen from his pocket, he jotted it down on a pad of paper on the end table.

  “Is there anything else you'd like to tell me about Cindy?”

  “She's from a wealthy family, and doesn't know one thing about keeping a household. Servants have taken care of all her needs her whole life. I doubt she even knows how to make a bed, much less cook.”

  “How did you meet her?”

  “I work for a large accounting firm, and her father is one of our clients. He suggested I give his daughter a call. He showed me a picture and she's quite a beauty. So needless to say, it didn't take me long to contact her. I take her out on occasions when I need a pretty girl on my arm. I can say she's never disappointed me there.”

  Hawkman stood. “Mr. Gibson, I appreciate your time and you've given me a good insight on Cindy Brown. I might need to contact you again; I hope you'll agree.”

  “Sure, hope she's not in some serious problem.”

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  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Hawkman checked the time and decided to chance a visit to Jason Calderidge. When he arrived, the young man came out the front door before he reached the landing.

  “I saw you coming,” Jason said. “My folks are home and they have big ears, so I didn't want them eavesdropping on our conversation.”

  “Understood,” Hawkman said as he took the envelope of pictures from his pocket. He thumbed through them until he came to the one with the recorder. “Do you recognize anything in this photo?” he asked, handing it to the young man.

  Jason studied the shot, then frowned. “That's my recorder, I can see my initials on the corner, but the voice changer isn't mine. Where'd you find it? It looks like it's on the seat of a car. Am I going to get it back?”

  “You're sure it's yours?”

  “Yeah, positive; you can see J C engraved on it,” he said, pointing to the marks.

  “I can't tell you where I found it, but I'll try to get it returned soon.”

  “Thanks. Guess you aren't so bad after all,” Jason said, handing back the photo.

  Hawkman smiled. “I'm only doing my job. Keep this to yourself. You'll know when you can speak of it.”

  Jason furrowed his brow. “How?”

  “Mark my word. You'll just know.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, if you say so.”

  Hawkman turned and left Jason scratching his head.

  Driving home, Hawkman thought about the last two days and the things Jennifer would want to hear. He could bet she'd question him the minute he arrived. Sure enough, when he walked into the kitchen, she immediately arose from her computer.

  “I could hardly wait for you to get home and catch me up on all the events.”

  He grinned, as he placed his briefcase on the counter. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “Have you eaten?” she asked.

  “Yes, grabbed a sandwich in town.”

  “Good. I'll fix us a cocktail, and let's go in by the fire.”

  Once they were relaxed in their chairs, Miss Marple rolled herself into a ball on the rug in front of the hearth.

  “Okay,” Jennifer said, turning toward her husband, “Start with yesterday.”

  Hawkman clued her in on what he'd found in Cindy's car, and showed her the pictures he'd taken of the recorder and voice changer. Then he told her about the encounter he'd had with her, and followed her to the Wallaces’ house. “She's a real liar, sneaky, and obstinate.”

  “Do you think the recorder is Jason's?”

  “Yes, he identified it tonight. If you'll look closely, you can see the initials J C scratched on the right hand corner.”

  She studied the photo. “Yes, I can see it. Sure looks like you've caught Cindy red-handed.”

  “Not really. It would be her word against Jason's, and the Browns’ have the money to hire a topnotch lawyer. It could be a real problem if she got rid of the instrument.”

  “What about the voice changer?”

  “I feel it belongs to Cindy. Jason said it wasn't his.” He raised a hand when Jennifer opened her mouth to speak. “Let me finish telling you about the rest. You're going to find these next events unbelievable.” When he told her about Laura's lamb being killed, her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide.

  She put a hand to her mouth. “How horrible! Do you think Cindy killed her pet?”

  “I have my suspicions. Laura gave me the arrow they removed from the sheep's body. I haven't had a chance to test it for fingerprints. I'm not sure I'll find any, as it had quite a bit of blood on it,”

  “Shouldn't you let Detective Williams’ lab boys try? They'd probably get better results, since they have more sophisticated equipment.”

  “You're right. After I follow Laura to school tomorrow, I'll drop it off at the station. You ready for the rest of the story?”

  “For heaven's sake, there's more?”

  “Yep, quite a bit.”

  “I'm all ears.”

  He told her how he'd followed the vehicle's marks in the grass from the gate, to where the person had climbed over the fence to get to the lamb's pen.

  “When the tires rolled over bare spots, I could tell the tracks were made by a light- weight vehicle and not a pickup. Also I found a piece of material hanging on the barbwire fence.” He got up and went to his briefcase. Taking out the swatch of cloth and his camera, he strolled over to her computer. “Let's hook this up to your machine, since you're already booted up.”

  “Okay.” She slipped into her swivel chair, hit the keyboard to bring the computer out of sleep mode, then took the cord he handed her and plugged it in. “What am I looking for?”

  He stood behind her, viewing the monitor. “Some clothes on the seat of a car. I haven't viewed these pictures yet. Sure hope they turned out.”

  She pointed at one of the photos. “Is this it?”

  “Yes. Great, it turned out clear.” He handed her the piece of cloth. “Tell me, does this match that blouse?” He pointed to the picture.

  She zoomed in on the item. “Definitely, and there's the jagged tear,” she said
, drawing a line around the area.

  “Boy, you've got good eyesight.”

  “Flip up your patch. The lighting in here is not that bright.”

  He did as she said. “Yes, I can see it now.”

  She fingered the piece of material. “This feels like silk and the floral print makes it a little harder to find the tear. Where'd you take this picture?”

  “The back seat of Cindy's car.”

  “How were you able to snap these photos without getting caught?”

  “Cindy was practicing at Arrow Point's inside archery range. It has no windows on the side of the parking lot.”

  Jennifer handed him the cloth. “Well, this girl is guilty as sin.”

  He told her about his meeting with Brett Gibson, and how the young man thought Cindy immature.

  “That's odd. Doesn't she claim him as her boyfriend?”

  “Yes, but he doesn't claim her and sounded interested in Laura.”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Oh, my gosh. What a terrifying triangle. Pray Cindy never finds out. If that happens. Her next arrow might go through Laura”

  “Don't say such a thing. If Brett ever called Laura, she wouldn't tell her.”

  “Oh, my, this is getting very complicated.” She glanced at him with raised brows. “Have you told Laura about this meeting with Mr. Gibson?”

  “No. Do you think I should?”

  “Definitely. The girl needs to be prepared.” She shook her head. “How do you manage to get so involved with women?”

  “Mark my word, I don't plan it.”

  “I may have to step in and help you.”

  “So far, I'm doing okay. My last contact tonight was with Jason Calderidge.”

  “Did he add more to this twisted tale?”

  “No. That's when he identified his recorder from the picture. He spotted his initials on the corner. However, he doesn't know I found it in Cindy's car.”

  “I'm surprised he didn't recognize the inside of the convertible.”

  “If you'll notice, she had a bunch of crap piled in the back seat. I zoomed in on the recorder and voice changer, in hopes of where I took the shot couldn't be identified by the background or upholstery.”