Moonshine Murder [Hawkman Bk 14] by Betty Sullivan La Pierre Read Free Book Online Page B

back into the living room and searched.
    Jennifer raised her head. “Whoops, bet you're looking for the Medford directory. I have it here. I forgot to take it back to your office."
    "No problem. Why did you need it?"
    "Looking for baby stuff."
    He furrowed his brow. “Why?"
    She exhaled. “I wanted to see if Medford had one of those consignment shops where they sell used baby equipment. Beth has nothing for the infant, except the handmade cradle, which is lovely, but Marcy will soon outgrow it."
    Hawkman studied his wife. “You really like her, don't you?"
    "Yes. Also, I feel very sorry for the family. I don't understand why Jeb hasn't piped water into the cabin. There's a windmill near the back of the house, and I bet if he tinkered with it a little, he could get it working again."
    Hawkman nodded. “I think he has other things on his mind."
    "For instance?"
    "I don't know, but I hope to find out.” He scooted the directory out from under Miss Marple. “Sorry, girl, I need this more than you.” He chuckled. “Looks like she's forgiven you for leaving her."
    Jennifer laughed. “Yes, she's followed me around all day, making sure I don't get out of her sight."
    Hawkman carried the book back to his desk, and opened it to the ‘H's'. Running his finger down the columns, he came to several Hutchinsons. Several had a ‘J’ as the first initial, but no addresses. It appeared he'd have to do a search on the computer.
    After the machine booted up, he went to the secure website and put in his password. Once accepted, he typed in Jacob Hutchinson, Medford, Oregon. It only took a few seconds for the site to respond, and the name appeared on the screen. Disappointed with the sparse information, he printed out the couple of paragraphs which stated the man had lived at the same place for twenty years. No background data appeared as to what he'd done for a living or where he'd resided before. Hawkman thought this odd, but some things do get blocked. No reason has to be given. Just like the statistics on himself. There were none; he'd checked.
    He shut down the computer and meandered into the living room. Finding his briefcase next to his chair he slid the paper inside.
    "Did you find anything of interest?” Jennifer asked.
    "Very little. I know it was the same man, as the address matched the one I got at the courthouse. I'll pay Jacob Hutchinson a visit tomorrow."
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
    As Hawkman rolled across the bridge heading for Medford, he glanced out over Copco Lake as the sun's beams bounced off the still water. It appeared like twinkling diamonds on a woman's finger. A nip in the air gave warning that old man winter wasn't through. He liked this time of year.
    His mind went to thoughts of Randy. He'd been schooled at one time, but obviously no one seemed in a hurry to get him enrolled again. This worried Hawkman. The boy had a good mind and it shouldn't be wasted. Maybe Jennifer could talk with Beth about the possibilities of getting him back into school. He had no idea of Earl's age, but figured somewhere around sixteen.
    He soon arrived at the outskirts of town; knowing the area of Hutchinson's address, he made the turns which led him into a neighborhood of older homes. A few had well-kept yards; others were overgrown, and needed attention. Once on the right street, he took the piece of paper Sally had given him at the courthouse, and glanced at the numbers. For some odd reason, when he came across the home, it didn't surprise him to find it run-down and in need of a good paint job. The lawn hadn't been trimmed in several weeks and the bushes had grown wild.
    Hawkman studied the front for a moment before climbing out. He could see the flicker of light shining through the sheer drapes covering the front window. When he reached the entry and knocked, he heard the barking of a dog and heavy footsteps of someone approaching.
    A man hovering around his mid-sixties, beer belly and greasy, dirty gray