Angels in Disguise (24 page)

"Must be potent stuff."

"That's exactly what I said to the nurse. And she responded with, ‘very', and drink lots of water.” She dug into her duffel bag and grabbed a bottle of the clear liquid. “In fact, I'll take a few swigs right now."

When they arrived at the house, Hawkman observed Jennifer taking another dose of the cytox, then she arranged the medications on the cabinet. “Good grief, it looks like a pharmacy."

She grimaced. “I know."

"By the way, have you been over to the store and talked to Amelia about what's going on?"

"No."

"I think you should. She's always available and can call on one of her kids to take over if you need someone while I'm at the office. It would certainly ease my mind. It takes me over an hour to get home and you might need help immediately."

"You're right. I'll talk to her in the morning."

"I'll go with you. In fact, think I'll hang around tomorrow and see how you're doing."

Jennifer pointed at the phone. “Looks like there's a message."

Hawkman punched the button. The voice of the urologist came across explaining he wanted to place a stent into Jennifer's ureter to relieve the pressure from the kidney. And he'd like to make arrangements for the procedure. Could she please call his office as soon as possible. Then he gave a number.

Hawkman noticed Jennifer had her lower lip drawn in between her teeth. A sure sign the call made her nervous. “You know, you don't have to go through with this."

She turned toward him as if she'd just snapped out of a trance. “What?"

"No one says you have to consent to the stent."

"I certainly don't want kidney failure on top of everything else."

"True."

"It just seems everything's happening at once."

He walked around the breakfast bar and put his arms around her. “You're going to do just fine."

At that moment, the phone rang. Hawkman reached over and picked up the receiver. “Hello.” He smiled and handed the phone to Jennifer. “This will perk you up."

"Hello.” A big grin lit up her face. “Hi, Sam."

The next morning, Hawkman slipped out of bed, and noticed Jennifer had the covers tucked around her body as if she were cold. He pulled on his eye-patch, then took his clothes and dressed in the hall bathroom so he wouldn't disturb her rest. Not sure what to expect, he put on a pot of coffee and debated whether to cook breakfast. He'd read people on chemo sometimes lose their appetites and he certainly didn't want to make her feel obligated to eat if she didn't feel like it.

He stared out the kitchen window as he sipped his coffee, and his mind wandered to Hank Withers. It appeared the man had intentionally avoided the question about the purse. The things Hawkman needed to ask the butcher weren't going to be easy, especially if he had anything to do with Carlotta's disappearance.

His thoughts were interrupted when Jennifer entered the kitchen wrapped in her winter robe.

"I'm freezing. I'm putting the electric blanket on the bed. I got so cold during the night, my teeth chattered."

Hawkman looked baffled. “Is this part of the chemo?"

She shuddered. “I don't know, but it must be. I'm cold by nature, but this is different. I feel like it emanates from my bones.” She took two tablets from the cytox bottle on the cabinet and gulped them down with a full glass of water. Shivering, she wrote the time down on a pad of paper. “One dose gone and four more to go; next, the prednisone."

"You want me to fix you a bite to eat?"

"Not for an hour. I'm going to stand under a hot shower, then dress in warm clothes.” She poured herself a cup of coffee, tightened the terry robe around her body and proceeded to the bedroom.

Hawkman wondered what to expect for the rest of the day. Soon Jennifer returned dressed in a pair of lightweight sweats.

"I feel better and warmer now."

"What would you like to eat?"

"They told me I could consume whatever I wanted and not to worry about diets or anything. The main thing was to eat.” She wrinkled her nose. “But nothing sounds good."

Hawkman's eyes twinkled and he rubbed his hands together. “How about a piece of toast lathered in butter, bacon and an egg fried in the grease?"

"That sounds delicious."

He stepped back, startled at her reply. “You never eat an egg fried in bacon grease and you always eat your toast plain."

She threw up both her hands. “I know, but it sounds wonderful. I'll have it."

He hurried to the stove. “I'm going to get things going before you change your mind."

Jennifer looked up at the wall clock. “While you're fixing breakfast, I'll call the urologist and work out a time for the surgery."

Hawkman finished the preparation just as she hung up the phone. “Well?” he asked, placing her plate on the breakfast bar.

"A week from Thursday. So keep that date open.” She wrote it on the hanging calendar above the phone. “At least I'll be through with my first session of chemo."

Hawkman found the next few days frustrating. Jennifer's appetite disintegrated and her energy level fell to almost nothing. Even putting one foot in front of the other seemed an effort.

Friday morning, she'd risen early and Hawkman found her sitting on the couch in the living room wrapped in a blanket. “Honey, is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Wish I felt like doing something. I can't even work on my book because I can't focus and I'm so cold."

A sharp knock at the entry caused both of them to turn their heads. He opened the door and Amelia entered, balancing a tray in her hands.

She quickly set it on the counter. “I need to get something with handles on it. That thing is a pain to carry.” She headed straight for Jennifer, sat down beside her and took her hand. “Honey, how are you feeling? I researched lymphoma on the computer, plus the CVP treatment you told me about. The side effects don't sound like fun.” She patted her arm. “But looks like you still have your beautiful hair."

Jennifer winced. “Give me another couple of weeks and it'll be gone."

Amelia's gaze went toward the kitchen where Hawkman was peeking under the towel she'd draped over the items she'd brought. “Okay, nosey, I'm going to fix your dinner tonight. So if you need to go into town, why don't you go ahead. The kids are watching the store, so I'm free to spend the rest of the day with Jennifer."

He jerked up his head with a sheepish grin. “Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He turned to his wife. “Honey, is it okay with you?"

"Please go. You deserve a break."

"I do need to catch up on the investigation. Do you need anything while I'm in town?"

She pointed toward the counter. “There's a list by the phone."

He found it, stuck it into his pocket, then went back into the living room and kissed her on the cheek. “I'll try and get home before dark."

On his way to Medford, Hawkman chewed on a toothpick and thought about what Jennifer had already been through. Not only did she complain of being cold, but she found it hard to swallow and her jaw ached so badly it almost brought tears. Strange sensations surged throughout her body and she swore she reeked of the horrible medication, even though he couldn't smell a thing. He hoped none of these symptoms were permanent.

Forcing his thoughts away from his wife, he tried to concentrate on the Carlotta case. He'd fallen way behind in his quest and feared new clues might slip through his fingers if he didn't get on the ball.

Paul hadn't contacted him, so he figured nothing threatening had occurred to Tiffany. He wondered if it would be safe to let the child go back to school next week. The girl shouldn't miss any more, as the end of the year was approaching. Maybe he'd take a chance and let her return. Delia would take responsibility for walking her to the classroom, and bringing her home. Plus, she'd more than likely volunteer to help the teacher for several days of the week just to keep an eye on things. He'd give the grandmother a call when he got to the office.

He reached the Medford city limits and decided to drop in on Detective Williams. First, he called to make sure he'd find him there, then proceeded to the police station.

When Hawkman marched into the office, Williams stood and extended his hand. “Good to see you. How's Jennifer?"

"Amelia, the gal who owns the Copco Store, is with her today."

"Oh, yeah. I've met her. Nice woman."

"The chemo is hitting Jennifer pretty hard, but she's a fighter. She has to go into surgery next week to have a stent inserted to protect the kidney."

The detective sat down. “She's getting her share. Hope she gets along okay. I hear chemo is hell."

Hawkman took the chair in front of the desk. “It's not fun watching. I can't imagine what she's going through."

It's been several days since I talked to you. I've left a few messages on your phone at work, mostly about Jennifer. Decided not to call your cell as I didn't have anything pressing to report on the Carlotta case. Anything new on your end?"

"I'm pretty confident the purse Tulip is carrying belonged to Carlotta. Jennifer got a quick look at it the other night and found a couple of telltale signs. Tulip repeated to us Hank had given it to her for her birthday. I hope to talk to him today and find out his story."

"He could swear he purchased it from a flea market or garage sale."

"True,” Hawkman nodded. “That's why we need to get into his house and place of business. See if we can find any other clues."

"I can't do much until we know for sure Hank Withers is involved.

Unfortunately, time's against us. He could destroy any evidence before we get there."

Hawkman drummed his fingers on the arm rest. “That's why I feel such an urgency."

"Do you think the man could be violent?"

"I have no idea."

"Why don't I go with you. Sometimes the presence of a police officer gets more information."

Hawkman chuckled. “Or they clam up completely."

"All right, smart ass. Let's go."

"We'll take my vehicle,” Hawkman said, as they left the building. When they pulled up in front of the butcher shop, a sign hung on the inside of the windowed door. “Odd, looks like he's closed. I've never known Withers’ shop not to be open."

"Me, either,” Williams said, climbing out of the SUV.

They both reached the entry and read, “Closed, due to a family emergency. Will return when I can."

"Interesting,” Hawkman said. “Wonder what happened and if Tulip went with him?"

"Let's go find out."

"She won't be at work yet,” Hawkman said, checking his watch. “We'll have to go to her place."

He rounded the corner and drove into the complex. When he came to Tulip's apartment, his gaze skimmed the lot. “Looks like we might have struck out here, too. I don't see her car.” He parked, jumped out of his vehicle and knocked on the door. After several minutes, he returned. “I'll check at her workplace later."

Hawkman dropped the detective off at the police station. “I'll give you a call and let you know if Withers’ daughter's still in town."

Williams gave a wave, jogged up the steps, and disappeared inside the building.

Hawkman took a toothpick from the box on the dashboard, and stuck it between his teeth, then drove toward his office. He noticed he'd almost gone through a box of those little wooden sticks; at least it was cheaper than smoking. After parking in the back, he pulled out Carlotta's file from under the passenger seat, left the windows cracked at the top, then climbed out, and locked up the 4X4. Before going up the stairs, he detoured into the bakery.

The baker's eyes opened wide in surprise. “Long time, no see. I thought you'd moved."

After explaining Jennifer's condition to the old man, Hawkman noticed his eyes glistened against the fine white layer of powdered flour covering his cheeks and hair.

"Makes me very sad to hear such news. I do hope she can conquer the ‘C’ devil. She's a very special person."

"Thank you, Clyde, I'll tell her. The doctors have assured us she can."

"Before you leave tonight, please stop by. I want to send her some of her favorite pastries."

Hawkman touched his hat. “She'll appreciate it."

He trooped up to his office and found the room warm and smelled musty after having been closed for several days. Leaving the door open, he dropped the folder on the desk, and shoved up the windows to air out the small area. He put on the coffee pot and peeled off his jeans jacket, leaving on his shoulder holster and gun. After hanging his hat and jacket on the coat rack, he went to the desk, and noticed the answering machine blinking like crazy. It displayed ten messages.

He poured himself a mug of coffee, sat down, pulled the yellow legal pad to the front of the desk, then punched the play button. The first message came from Detective Williams checking in and wanting to know about Jennifer. The next two were hang-ups, then a telemarketer, Williams again, a couple of messages from former clients, and a person wanting to set up an appointment. The ninth one brought Hawkman to attention. The voice was garbled, and reminded him of the threatening calls he'd received earlier on the Carlotta case; but he couldn't make it out, so decided someone must have had a poor connection. They'd have to try again. The last message came from Paul. “Mr. Casey, could you give me a call?"

Hawkman punched in his number, fearing something had happened. “Casey here. Returning your call."

"Good to hear from you. Mom and I were just wondering if you think it would be safe for Tiffany to start back to school. She's getting awfully restless and the end of the year is almost here. Mom said she'd walk her to the classroom, pick her up at the door and volunteer for recess monitor. This way Tiffany would never be outside without someone watching over her."

"I've been thinking along those lines. Let's give it a go and send her back to school. I'm sure she's bored out of her mind. But do tell her to be wary. And reassure her, that grandma's only there for her protection, not to spy."