by Paty Jager
“Yeah. She doesn’t live around here, so you can stay in her room and use her clothes. She won’t care because they aren’t the latest styles.”
“That’s a bit callous.” Tonya didn’t move toward the door.
“We have never seen eye to eye. Once she hit eighteen, she lit out and rarely comes home to see mom. You better go, or she’ll be setting out clothes for you to wear.”
She frowned and headed down the hallway to the three bedrooms. His mom’s, his, and Miriam’s.
Hawke went into the living room and walked over to the corner table with his mom’s dinosaur computer. He’d tried to buy her a tablet for Christmas the year before, but she’d insisted her computer worked for her needs. She kept up on the reservation news and committees, emailed some friends, followed Pinterest, and had a Facebook profile mainly to follow relatives and the people who brought their children for her to babysit.
He turned the computer on and waited for it to boot up. The tower next to the television-tube shaped monitor whirred to life. He hoped they didn’t freeze up her computer using it to dig for information.
The sound of children playing in the backyard and the chatter of women talking down the hall were sounds he seldom heard. Living above the stable he heard, snorts, neighing, and foot stomping with the occasional sound of a vehicle coming and going. He hadn’t realized how relaxing the sound of happy voices could be.
“I’ll add extra potatoes to the pot,” his mom said, stepping into the living room.
“Good idea. Hey, what is your password for your internet account?” He’d pulled up her account so he could upgrade it to more data and hopefully faster connection.
“Your full name and birthdate.” She disappeared.
Hawke shook his head. He should have known she wouldn’t use something no one could figure out. He typed the information into the password, making the first letter of each name uppercase and adding his birthdate at the end.
He was in. He upgraded and made all the changes to the account he thought they would need. He’d have to put it back down before the end of the month or his mom would be arguing with the internet provider when she received her next bill.
He opened the search engine and typed in Felix White. He wanted to know more about the man before he went to jail, if that were possible.
Tonya wandered into the room. “What are you doing?”
“Looking up the history on Felix White.”
“That’s in my computer,” she said.
Hawke stared at her. “I didn’t see it.”
“It’s in the manuscript.” She sat in the chair next to the computer table. “Where is my computer?”
Hawke twisted in the chair and faced her. “Whoever wants to keep you quiet has it.”
She glared at him. “That has everything we need.”
He raised his hands. “I found the flash drive you had all the same information on. I gave that to my superior. And I have all of that in paper in a binder. I left it at the motel with Mathews. He’ll be bringing it with him. Can you give me a quick overview?”
“Mathews? Who is that?”
“The deputy you hit over the head and left tied up in your uncle’s cabin.” Hawke studied her.
Her face reddened. “I thought he might be the person who killed Sean. I didn’t want to wait and ask him who he was when I could knock him in the head and get away.” She touched her temple where the stitches were. “Except your mule wouldn’t let me get on the horse. He knocked me down and I hit my head. I thought sure he was going to stomp me into the ground before I blacked out.”
“He’s not vicious, just protective of Jack.” Hawke studied her. “What did you plan to do at the cabin?”
“I was going to put all my evidence together in one report, I guess you’d call it, and submit it to the state police for them to investigate. I know it was the Boise City Police who falsified the documents on Felix.”
Hawke nodded. “We’re working with Idaho State Police. That’s why Trooper McCord handed you over to me.”
“I figured as much.” Tonya leaned forward to see the monitor. “When will Mathews arrive with my information?”
“In about four hours. In the meantime, fill me in.”
“I found evidence that Felix White wasn’t anywhere near the places he allegedly was arrested. According to him the first time he was pulled in, was on the assault charge.” Her face puckered in anger. “Which he didn’t do. But there were witnesses who said they saw him.”
“Why didn’t he fight the charges? Didn’t he have someone he could contact?” Hawke couldn’t see how someone who wasn’t even present could be sent to jail for a crime he didn’t commit.
Tonya shrugged. “I don’t know. He doesn’t have any family he knows of, and he really didn’t have any friends he could call.” She sighed. “Until I started digging into his case to find out why he killed my uncle, he didn’t have anyone who would listen to him.”
Hawke was beginning to feel emotionally attached to the young man Sheridan killed. Instead of being a killer, he was a victim.
She continued. “He went to the homestead when he was released from jail after the assault charge because he’d hidden information in the cabin before he went to jail that would prove one of the water companies was using river water, and not processing it, for a subdivision that was built in two-thousand-and-nine.”
Hawke whistled and leaned back in his chair. “White was sent to jail to keep him from spilling about water contamination?”
She nodded. “There were a lot of political people with money invested in the subdivision.”
“Had he already approached someone about the water issue?” Hawke could see if White had pointed his finger and vowed to cause trouble, that someone paid the police to get rid of White without killing him. It was interesting that while the person had no qualms giving people who bought in his subdivision bad drinking water, he wouldn’t resort to murder. But in the end, they had, killing the Goodwins and Theodore Shoat. Was that to frame White or was there another reason behind their killings?
“He had taken his findings to his professor at the college. In fact, Felix wrote his dissertation on The Stealing of Surface Water to Hide the Dwindling Groundwater.”
“Did you talk to his professor? Did White name names in the dissertation?” Hawke could tell by the down turn of the woman’s mouth something had happened to the paper.
“I found out the professor moved to another country and when I tried to find him, I didn’t have any luck. When I asked about his papers at the college, they waved me to a room in the basement full of boxes. None of them were marked. It would take a hundred people a long time to go through those boxes and find any paper if it was there.”
The paper and professor were a dead end. He had another thought. “Tell me why your uncle was at the Goodwins the day they were all killed? Had White sold the cabin?”
She shook her head. “The Goodwins were one of the families Felix had talked to. They had a child that kept being diagnosed with giardia after moving to the subdivision. They were a clean family, no animals, the mother was a stay at home mom, so the child wasn’t left at a day care. They had the water tested and that’s when they started asking others in the subdivision about their health.” She sighed. “My uncle had known Felix his whole life and had gone to the cabin to welcome him home when he was released. I’m not sure what the Goodwins were doing there. Maybe they had gone to do the same thing, since Felix was the only person who was helping them gather information before he was wrongly put in jail.”
“Someone knew they were there, or someone had gone to the White homestead to kill Felix and turned the tables by killing the only people who believed in him.” Hawke studied the woman. She had drawn her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs with her good arm. The woman sitting on his mom’s chair didn’t seem near as calculating and in control as the woman he’d met in Hells Canyon.
“Do you know which subdivision it was?” He nee
ded to find out the names of the people involved.
Chapter Twenty-four
The Sunset Rose Subdivision was easy to find. Hawke had found all the landowners who profited from the sale of the land, the development company, and a list of management companies that ran the subdivision by the time Mathews arrived.
Hawke opened the front door and a brand new shiny blue Mustang convertible sat next to the older model. Mathews walked up the path to the front door, lugging a computer bag, a duffel bag, and the binder.
“It looks like you enjoyed the drive here,” Hawke said with sarcasm.
Mathews’ smile beamed even wider. “I still love my old girl but these newer models are fun to drive.”
Stepping out of the way, Hawke motioned for the deputy to get inside. “I haven’t had a chance to let the reservation police know who owns the cars and to keep a lookout. I’ll do that once you’re settled.”
Tonya stood, wringing her hands in front of her.
“Deputy Mathews, this is Tonya Cox.” Hawke introduced the two.
Mathews ran a hand across the back of his head. “I hope this time you don’t hit me when I’m not looking.” He deposited everything he was carrying onto the couch and held out a hand. “You can call me Scott.”
“I’m sorry for hitting you. I thought you were the person who’d killed Sean.” She grasped his hand and released it quickly before lowering back down in the chair and elevating her arm in the cast.
“You saw the person who killed Sheridan?” Mathews asked.
She shook her head. “I arrived when I guess the person was setting the place on fire. Because I looked in the window to make sure it was the place Sheridan was to meet someone. I saw him lying on the floor with blood seeping out from under him and ran back to Idaho. I didn’t know about the fire until later.”
“And who is this?” Mimi asked, walking into the living room from the kitchen.
“Mom, this is Deputy Mathews. He’s helping me protect Tonya.” Hawke motioned for Mathews to greet his mom.
Her brow was furrowed and her eyes narrowed. “Your name is Matthew or Mathews?”
“I’m Scott Mathews. You can call me Scott.” Mathews held out his hand to shake.
Mom smiled at him. “Come on in, dinner is ready.” She turned and headed into the kitchen.
“We’ve been summoned,” Hawke said, motioning the other two into the kitchen where his mom had set the table she’d fed he and his sister on after she’d remarried.
The table had a plastic tablecloth with summer flowers. The woman had always used the plastic cloth because it was easier to scrub it down than spend the water and money washing a cloth one in the washing machine every other day.
Mom orchestrated where they sat. Placing Hawke across from her, Tonya on her left, and Mathews on her right.
“I hope you like soup. I added more vegetables when I realized I would be feeding more than myself and the children for lunch tomorrow.” Mimi untied her apron, draped it across the back of her chair and sat.
“It looks good,” Hawke said, grabbing a homemade roll. His mom had worked hard to figure out how to make yeast rolls. The last few years, she’d finally found the secret. He remembered years of eating rolls as hard and chewy as tennis balls. Now they were light and fluffy.
“Thank you for letting us stay with you, Mrs. Hawke,” Mathews said, dishing up soup.
Hawke’s mom snorted. “I wasn’t asked. My son just showed up as if I am a motel who welcomes anyone any time. And call me Mimi.”
Tonya stared at him. “You didn’t even ask your mom if we could stay here? You’ve put her in danger without asking her permission.”
Hawke glared at Tonya. He’d left out a lot when he’d arrived and said they were staying. He hadn’t planned on his mom knowing about the danger, because he’d hoped to have this solved and be gone before it arrived here.
“Danger? You said Tonya was here for protection. Is someone going to come into my house and kill me in my sleep? What about the children? I don’t want harm to come to any of the children I watch.” Mimi stared at him as if she’d never seen him before.
“Mom, if I thought any danger would come to you or the children I wouldn’t have come here. We needed some place no one would come looking. The reservation is the best place.” He nodded to Mathews. “We’re going to have a chat with the Reservation Police tonight and let them know we are here and to watch for vehicles with Idaho plates.”
“You think I feel any better knowing our police are looking out for me?” She ripped the roll on her plate apart with her fingers. “Someone walked into Trixie Red Horse’s place last week during the day and walked out with her new microwave and tablet. You know what the police said? ‘You should have been more careful’. How more careful can you get than locking your doors?” She put up a finger. “Which until only a few years ago we didn’t have to do. People knew to leave others belongings alone.”
“You’ll be safe with Mathews and me here. I promise. If I had thought trouble would actually come here, I wouldn’t have used your house to hide a witness.” Hawke dished up the soup. The best way to appease his mom was to compliment her cooking.
He sipped the beefy broth and bit into the perfectly cooked vegetables and told his mom it was her best soup ever.
The expression on her face and glint in her eyes said she knew he was trying to smooth things over, but she wasn’t too angry to not accept the compliment.
The other two also commented on the tasty meal.
While Tonya helped his mom with the dishes, he and Mathews walked outside. Hawke dialed up the Reservation Police station and asked for one of the officers on patrol to come by Mimi Shumack’s place in Mission.
About ten minutes later a patrol car rolled down the street.
Hawke and Mathews had been discussing the new information Hawke had discovered and that Mathews had come to a dead end on White’s family.
The vehicle pulled up alongside the rental Mustang. A short, thin man wearing the Reservation police uniform stepped out of the patrol car.
“These your vehicles?” he asked.
“Yes.” Hawke stood and walked out to meet the man. The officer was in his thirties, narrow faced, dark suspicious eyes.
“Why did you call for a patrol man? You don’t live here.” The officer kept his hands on his utility belt.
“I’m Gabriel Hawke, Mimi’s son.” He drew the state patrol badge out from under his shirt. “This is Deputy Mathews from the Idaho County Sheriff’s Office.”
Mathews pulled his badge case out of his pocket and flipped it open for the officer to read.
“What are you two doing here?” The man still seemed skeptical. Bright was the name on his name tag.
“We wanted to let you and your force know that we are here protecting a witness and would like your cooperation in keeping an eye out for vehicles with Idaho plates and patrolling this neighborhood more in the next few days.” Hawke stood with his arms crossed. Not to intimidate but to show they were counting on help.
“I’ll have to tell the Tribal Police Chief. And let the others in this area know.” Officer Bright said.
“That is what we’d like. As long as all of this doesn’t go off the Reservation,” Hawke said. “We don’t want the people looking for our witness to get wind of where we are.”
Bright nodded. “Will these cars be here the whole time?”
“I’ll be taking the rental car tomorrow, but I’ll be back by evening.” Hawke needed to run get clothes, tell his landlords he’d be gone a little longer, and update Spruel.
The officer nodded and slid back into his patrol vehicle, a small SUV.
“He wasn’t very friendly,” Mathews said, as they walked back to the house.
“Everyone, especially the police, are leery of strangers on the reservation.” Hawke had been following the growing rise in missing and murdered women on reservations.
“But you’re one of them.” Mathews stammered. “I mean
if your mom lives here, you’re Native American.”
Hawke slapped the deputy on the back. “Yes, I am American Indian and I lived half of my childhood on this reservation. But that young officer has never seen me.”
Inside, they found Tonya reading the binder with the printouts from her files. She glanced up. “You do have critical information in this binder.”
Hawke sat down in the chair next to the couch, where the woman sat. “Did you name the stockholders and builder of the Sunset Rose Subdivision?”
She nodded. “If you’d had a chance to read this manuscript, you’d see I named all the people who knew the water was being piped illegally from the nearby river.” She flipped through the pages, stopped, and tapped a page before handing the binder to Hawke.
He scanned the page to the area where she’d tapped her finger. All the names were the same ones he’d pulled up on the computer except for one. “How did he get involved in this whole mess?” Hawke kept his finger under the name and handed the binder to Mathews.
“You’re kidding me?” Mathews set the binder on the coffee table and pulled the laptop he’d been taking out of a bag onto his lap. “What’s the password to get internet on my computer?”
Hawke stood up and unplugged the ethernet cable and handed it to Mathews.
“You’re kidding.” The deputy stared at him as if he’d just handed him a dinosaur egg.
“There’s no modem. I tried to get her to put in a modem and use a tablet last Christmas and she said no. The computer works just fine for her.”
Mathews dug around in his computer bag and came up with an adapter that he attached to the ethernet cable and plugged into his laptop.
“I do know that Childress was on the Boise Police force before he retired,” Mathews said, waiting for his computer to boot up.
“Do you think he paired me with Sheridan thinking once the whole thing was over, I’d go back to Oregon and forget a man I’d been tracking was killed?” If the man had done his homework, he would have learned that the Oregon State Police Officer had a one-track mind when it came to finding the end of the trail, whether it was tracking, murder, or drugs.
