Angels in Disguise (5 page)

"Oh, sure. You know Carlotta is sort of flaky. Maybe she just took off for a break."

"Let's hope that's all it amounts to."

Hawkman left Tulip's place disappointed. So far, he'd found no help from anyone in locating the missing woman. The most valuable information he'd received came from Tiffany about the two men. He might have to talk to her again. Kids of that age tend to know more than they let on. They do a lot of eavesdropping. He remembered Jennifer warning him when Sam was that age and they were making love, ‘little elephants have big ears'. He chuckled at the memory as he climbed into his SUV.

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and read six forty-five. Turning on the ignition, he pulled out of the parking lot and thought he might drop by Paul's place to see if he could enlighten him on his mother's personality. He'd have to be careful. Sure didn't want to offend the man. Also, he'd like to talk to Tiffany again. On his way, he swung by Carlotta's house and it shocked him to see the white Cadillac parked in the driveway.

He stopped at the curb and made his way to the front door. When he heard Delia's voice in the side yard, he detoured to the gate and found Tiffany with her grandmother on their hands and knees trying to coach an animal from under the house. “What's the problem?” he asked, stepping up to the two crouched females.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Casey,” Delia said. “Tiffany got worried about a stray cat she'd tried to befriend and it concerned her that the food she'd put out wouldn't be enough. So we came to check. Sure enough, the kitten is still here, but scared spit less."

"We can't get it to come out from under the house,” Tiffany said, pouting as she leaned back on her haunches. “Grandma said I could take it to her house, but I think the little thing is too scared, and it's going to be dark soon."

Hawkman picked up a small branch with a few leaves on the end. “Let me try.” He knelt down and flipped the stick around just inside the crawl space opening. Pretty soon, a little white paw reached out and batted at it. Hawkman purred softly and the animal inched out of the opening as it played and launched at the twig. He soon lured the little creature out far enough to pick it up, and gently rubbed its head, then handed the cat to Tiffany. “Sit on the step with the kitten for a few minutes and let her get used to you. She's just frightened. You probably startled her when you came searching and she dashed for cover.” He smiled. “However, you'll notice she didn't go far."

Tiffany displayed a big smile. “Thank you."

Even though this might be an opportune time to talk to the young girl, Hawkman gave it a second thought and decided it best to let her learn to trust him. Then she might open up more.

"So what brings you over here?” Delia asked.

"Just doing my job and keeping an eye on things. Surprised me to see your car here this late."

"I'm glad you stopped. We probably wouldn't have been able to entice the cat from its hiding place. Oh, by the way, there's a pet carrier in the garage and maybe you can reach it without me having to get a ladder."

"Sure, be glad to help."

Delia led Hawkman through the side door, flipped on the light and pointed to the cage on the top shelf. He reached up and brought it down in a cloud of dust. Fanning his hand in front of his face, he set it on the floor. “Whew, don't think its been used in awhile."

Delia picked it up by the handle. “It's been stored a few years. I'll hose it off.” Hawkman followed her out onto the lawn. “One of the neighbors had it stacked with their garbage and Paul rescued it, figuring they'd have a use for it one day. Carlotta had a fit. Said, she never wanted an animal to smell up the house.” She set the cage on the grass, turned on the hose, then sprayed off the dirt inside and out. “You know, kids need a pet, especially an only child. But Carlotta couldn't see past her own nose. Very selfish woman.” Turning off the water, she went back into the garage, came out with an old raggedy towel and dried off the plastic carrier. “There, that should do it,” she said, standing back and inspecting her work.

"Looks like you ladies have everything under control, so I'll take off."

Delia waved. “Thanks for your help."

Hawkman drove off and headed for Paul's apartment. He thought about Delia and felt baffled by the woman. She almost seemed like two different personalities. Today, the doting grandmother clad in jeans and tee shirt, where at their first meeting, she reminded him of a middle-aged sexy woman turned on by demons and dragons.

He reached Paul's apartment and found him home.

"Good evening, Mr. Casey. Anything new to report?"

Hawkman told him about the two women his mother had mentioned. “Did you know either of them?"

"I don't know Beth Matthews, but I've known Tulip for years. Her father, Hank owns the butcher shop in town. We all went to high school together and she followed me around like a little puppy dog.” He smiled. “However, she never impressed me, dowdy as they come, and always reminded me of a football player. Didn't have much personality or get up and go. I never could figure what Carlotta saw in her."

"Were they together much?"

Paul shook his head. “Not really, Carlotta had lunch with her occasionally. I think she felt sorry for her."

"Tell me about Delia? I met her and she's quite different than what I expected."

Chuckling, Paul mixed himself a drink. “Can I fix you something?"

"You got a beer?"

"Sure.” He handed Hawkman a cold bottle of Corona from the bar refrigerator. “Need a glass?"

"No, this is fine. Thanks."

Paul joined Hawkman on the couch and a grin tickled the corners of his mouth. “So you find my Mother rather interesting?"

"I'd say that's an understatement. For some odd reason, I expected to meet a grand motherly type of woman, only to find a slim, attractive lady, who reads science fiction and horror."

He laughed. “That's my Mom."

"Has she always been interested in the far out?"

"As long as I can remember. But she never pushed it on me and discourages Tiffany from getting infatuated with those genres. She tells her it's something grown ups like, but it might scare kids."

"Does Tiffany show any inclination to want to read them?"

"No, because Mom keeps her supplied with books at her own age level."

"I went by Carlotta's house. Found your mother and Tiffany trying to coach a kitten from under the house."

"Really. That's why I couldn't reach them this afternoon.” He stared at him in disbelief. “Did you say, a cat?"

Hawkman smiled, and told him the story.

"Well, I'll be damned,” he slapped his hand against his thigh. “I knew that pet carrier would come in handy one day. Tiffany will now have her pet, even if she has to keep it at Mom's."

"You don't think your mother will mind having a feline who might possibly scratch her lovely furniture?"

"Naw, she has a way with animals and will train it beautifully. She and Tiffany will end up with a wonder cat."

"Back to the case of Carlotta. I can't find either of the men Tiffany described. If you don't mind, I'd like to have a police artist interview her and see if he can get enough detail to sketch the men's faces. Do you think it would upset her?"

"I doubt it; she'd probably think it pretty cool. Something she could brag about at school."

"Okay, I'll set up an appointment. More than likely it will be in the evening. I want to move on this case as quickly as possible, since Carlotta has been missing several days. There's been no news from or about her, and I don't like it."

Paul's expression turned to concern. “You suspect foul play, don't you?"

"It's crossed my mind. What I can't figure out is why she dropped Tiffany off at your mom's, then came back home, leaving her car in the garage. It seems out of character, as she knew your mother would come and pick up your daughter as soon as she discovered the child home alone."

"That's true, but if Carlotta planned on being gone for a few days, she might have wanted Mom to know Tiffany's schedule for the weekend."

"Did your mother mention what Carlotta wore? Was she dressed up, or in casual clothes?

"I never thought to ask."

"Someone either picked her up, or she took a cab. I need to find a person who might have witnessed this or had contact with Carlotta the day she disappeared, or even the day before. So far all I have is you, Delia and Tiffany. Do you think she'd have asked a neighbor to keep an eye on the place?"

"I doubt it. She knew Mom or I would come by. But I'll be happy to call around and find out if anyone saw anything unusual on that Friday."

"I think it'd be a good idea. Be sure and inquire if anyone spotted a strange car at the house."

When Hawkman returned home, he found Jennifer lying on the couch with her feet propped up on pillows, watching television instead of working at her computer.

"Hey, sweetheart, you okay?"

"I'm not sure."

He hurried over and knelt by her side. “What do you mean?"

"I've had two doses of the Cipro and I thought the symptoms would have subsided, but they're still with me."

"Are you in any pain?"

"No, just tired. Of course, an infection will do that."

"If there isn't any improvement by tomorrow afternoon, I want you to call the doctor. That stuff is potent and should knock that infection fast."

She reached up and patted him on the cheek. “Don't worry, honey, I will."

The next morning Hawkman sneaked out of bed so as not to disturb Jennifer. He felt anxious about her not feeling well, but yet, these infections were sometimes stubborn and not always eradicated by a three day dose of antibiotics, regardless of its strength.

His objective today would be to set up an appointment with the police artist to sketch the two men Tiffany had told him about. One of them could be responsible for Carlotta's disappearance. If the child gave a good description, he'd at least have something to go by. He knew it'd be more expensive to set up an evening appointment with the artist at Delia's house, but Paul had the money and it would probably be worth the effort.

Hawkman left the house and headed for Medford. He drove straight to the police station and slipped into a vacated visitor's slot. Spotting the detective's car parked in his designated area, meant the man might just be in.

Strolling down the hallway, he poked his head around the door jamb of William's office, then knocked lightly on the wood. “You're always in the same position in this cubby hole when I come for a visit. Bent over a bunch of papers, pen in your hand, and signing away."

Williams jerked up his head and laughed. “Hawkman, good to see you. Come in. What brings you to this humble establishment?"

Hawkman guffawed. “Boy, that's a new one."

"Well, it's been a while since you've graced my modest abode. Thought maybe you'd found bigger and better places to carry on your business."

"Is that a wish?"

Williams pointed at the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, you big lug. What's going on?"

"Did Paul Ryan file a missing person report on his wife, Carlotta?"

"Yeah, have it right here. So you're the investigator?"

Hawkman slapped the desk top. “Yep, and no clues to what's happened to the woman. It's strange, she doesn't appear to have any close friends and has vanished into thin air."

The detective screwed up his mouth. “I don't have anything for you either. No murders, accidents or corpses come close to her description."

"The only leads I have are a couple of men the young daughter told me visited the house. But she didn't know their full names, so I thought maybe I'd borrow your police artist. If she could give a good enough description for a sketch, then it might give me some advantage."

"We have a couple of guys we call in when needed. They aren't on our payroll. We pay them by the job. I can give you their names and phone numbers."

"Great. I'd appreciate it."

The detective took a black leather book from his desk drawer and flipped it open. He jotted down the information, then tore off the sheet and handed it to him.

Hawkman read aloud. “Jack Franklin and Kent Langley."

"Yes, those are the two men we normally use. They're both extremely good artists and we've had good luck with their drawings."

"Thanks. I'll probably try to get in touch with one of them today.” He folded the paper and put it into his pocket.

"They both have day jobs, so you might not be able to reach them until this evening."

"That'll be fine.” Hawkman patted the desk. “Good seeing you. Looks like you're still holding down the fort. If anything comes up on Carlotta Ryan, would you give me a call?"

The detective gave him a salute. “Will do."

Once Hawkman climbed back into his 4X4, he made a call to Jack Franklin. The answering machine picked up, so he left his cell phone number and a short message.

Just as he hung up, the phone rang before he had a chance to clip it to his belt. “Tom Casey"

"Paul Ryan here. I made some calls last night to the neighbors. Only one saw anything. The woman told me she'd seen my mother's white Cadillac. But then she retracted her statement saying she wasn't sure it was Friday or the day before. I don't think her statement holds much water."

"I agree. How many did you call?

"The families on each side and the one across the street. I didn't figure any of the others would have noticed unless they happened to be out in their yard. You want me to call a few more?"

"No, that's probably sufficient. And no one spotted any unusual cars?"

"I asked, but no one saw any strange vehicles. I'm sure they'd have noticed a taxi or limousine."

"Looks like we struck out. Thanks for trying."

"No problem. Anything new on your end?"

"I'm working on a couple of things. I'll keep you informed."

Hawkman finally drove out of the station parking lot and headed for his office. He didn't like the feeling in his gut about the disappearance of Carlotta Ryan. Each passing day made things worse and tomorrow, Friday, marked a week since her disappearance.