Angels in Disguise (3 page)

"Thanks. I'll let her know."

Hawkman climbed into his SUV and headed for Copco Lake. By the time he arrived, he noted it was close to eleven and the lights were out, except for the one on the front porch Jennifer always left on for him. When he went into the kitchen, he found a note on the cabinet.

—

"Please don't wake me, not feeling real well.

Have doctor appointment tomorrow.

Love ya, Jen"

—

He felt an uneasiness wash over him as he reread the message. She's never ill, he thought, as he glanced toward the bedroom. Nothing other than a cold. She doesn't even like doctors, but obviously something had happened to make her worried enough to see one. He'd definitely let her rest tonight, but he wouldn't leave in the morning until he knew more.

Hawkman spent a restless night. Concerned his flopping around in bed would keep Jennifer from getting a good rest, he got up and went into the living room where he curled up on the couch. It didn't seem long, before he felt a soft hand touch his arm.

"Honey, what are you doing in here?"

He awoke with a start and sat up straight. “Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"But your note said you didn't feel good. I tossed and turned so much, I thought I might wake you."

She smiled. “I just felt extremely tired last night."

"Something else must be troubling you, if you think you should see a doctor."

"I'm pretty sure I've got a urinary tract infection."

"How serious is that?"

"I'll probably need an antibiotic, and I can't buy it over the counter. I'll have to get a prescription. It'll take care of it within a week."

"That's a relief. Your note had me a bit upset."

"I'm sorry. I felt so wiped out yesterday, all I wanted to do was go to bed and sleep. I feel much better this morning."

"Good. What time's your appointment?"

"Not until one o'clock."

"You want me to go with you?"

She grinned. “No, dear, I can handle it. I'm sure you've got things to do."

"Yeah, this new case is proving to be quite a bit different."

Her eyes glistened with interest. “Oh, good, come in the kitchen and I'll fix us some breakfast while you tell me about it."

Hawkman got out the plates and silverware as he told her about Paul and Tiffany. I haven't met his mother yet. Her name is Delia. I get the impression she might be a little overbearing, especially to Carlotta. But according to Paul, she's crazy about her granddaughter."

"Where'd you get the impression she's domineering toward the wife?"

"Guess Carlotta dresses like a bombshell, and doesn't restrict Tiffany's dress code, which doesn't meet with grandma's approval. This I could see with my own eyes. You wouldn't believe this ten year old in her hip-hugger jeans, a belly button ring, a cropped top and make-up."

Jennifer held the egg in midair, her eyes wide. “You're kidding. A ten year old wearing make-up with a belly button ring?"

Hawkman nodded. “Yep. Saw her with my own eyes. She's a beautiful child, long brown hair, big saucy brown eyes, but definitely isn't ready for that type of dress. For crying out loud, she doesn't even have a waistline yet. But what I don't understand is, if dad or grandma don't approve, why do they let the girl get by with wearing these garbs when she's with them?"

Jennifer sighed. “I think kids rule their parents nowadays."

"I believe it.” He snuck a piece of bacon off the plate. “Today, I'm going to try and talk to Delia, then I'm going to see about finding these two clods that Tiffany said her mother brought home."

"Do you suspect foul play?"

"Hard to say. Not a word has been heard from the missing woman. It does make me suspicious. On the other hand, she could be with girlfriends, since her car is parked in the garage. But I didn't find a clue at the house indicating where she might have gone."

"That's odd. Not letting anyone know where you're going. Especially, when you've got a child to worry about. You'd think she'd want to leave a number where she could be reached in case of an emergency. Surely she's got a cell phone."

Hawkman snapped his fingers. “Good thinking. I forgot to ask Paul if she had one. Didn't notice a bill on her phone invoice, but sometimes those are separate. In fact, I'm going to call him as soon as we finish breakfast. It surprises me now when I think back on it, Tiffany didn't have one stuck to her ear either."

Jennifer handed him a plate of food. “It seems most kids have one nowadays, regardless of their age."

After breakfast, Hawkman gave Paul a call at work. When he hung up, he turned to Jennifer. “He said, Carlotta didn't have a cell phone as far as he knew, and she showed no interest in having a computer. Said she didn't want Tiffany discovering porn on the web."

"Sounds like a mixed up woman if you ask me,” Jennifer said. “She lets her ten year old daughter wear far out clothes and make-up, yet doesn't want her to have a cell or computer. Quirky."

"If you're sure you don't want me to go with you to the doctor, then I think I'll take off. See if I can catch Delia Ryan at home before Tiffany gets out of school."

"Why don't you give her a call first?"

"Sometimes a surprise interview gets better results."

"That's true. I'll be anxious to hear what this grandma has to say."

Hawkman drove into an older area of town and slowed down, as he observed the lovely landscaped lawns. He finally spotted Delia Ryan's house sitting back from the road with a curved driveway that led to the attached garage, and continued to circle the full length of the front yard. Large trees shaded the roof and rose bushes guarded the front sidewalk and manicured lawn. Very striking he thought. Either Mrs. Ryan had a green thumb or an excellent gardener.

In the center of the open two car garage sat a new large white Cadillac sedan. Looked like widow Ryan had a good supply of money. He parked in the street, climbed out, and straightened his jeans jacket, then made his way to the front door. When he pushed the doorbell, he could hear a strange minor melody of chimes echoing throughout the house.

"Coming,” a voice called.

When a woman opened the door, it took Hawkman a moment to speak. He didn't expect to be greeted by a tall, slender, tanned female dressed in a long white terry bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head.

"Uh, I'm looking for a Ms. Delia Ryan. Am I at the right address?"

"You sure are,” she said, smiling and holding out her hand. “You're Mr. Tom Casey, aren't you?"

"Yep, that's me."

Paul told me I could expect you within the next couple of days. Please come in. I just went for a swim. Give me a few minutes to change and I'll be right with you.” She led him into the living room and motioned for him to have a seat. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? I have some made."

"Sure, that'll be great."

"Cream or sugar?"

"No, black's fine, thanks."

She set a mug of the steaming brew on the coffee table. “Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

Hawkman picked up the cup and strolled over to the picture window overlooking a huge glistening pool in the back yard. Then his gaze traveled to the sides. Strange, he thought. This is not your typical grandmother. No flower pots or fancy little chairs, but grotesque statues of dragons and demons. Then he observed the interior of the living room more closely. Sipping on the hot coffee, he walked over to the tall bookcase on the far wall and noticed her taste in reading consisted of fantasy, science fiction and the horror genre. Why did he expect to meet a round grand motherly type with a taste for romance? Because she didn't want her granddaughter wearing sexy clothes at ten years of age? Hawkman, you need to adjust your thinking.

He observed oriental statues of dragons stashed in the darkened corners, along with pictures on the walls of space ships and well endowed alien women. Horror books lay scattered across the end tables and coffee table. This is going to prove to be a very interesting interview, he thought.

Delia Ryan entered the room. “Sorry it took me so long. Had a time fixing my hair."

Hawkman spun around to face a sexy woman with long dyed blond hair, dressed in designer jeans, silk white shirt, and demonstrating the figure of a thirty year old. She'd obviously had a face lift or else she wasn't Paul's biological mother. “No problem, you have a very interesting hobby. Looks like you're a real science fiction fan."

"Oh, yes,” she said, waving a hand toward the bookcase. “I love this stuff. Takes me into another world."

He nodded. “Yep, it sure would."

"Sit down, let me get a cup of java and we can talk,” she said, pointing toward the sofa.

She soon returned and took a chair opposite him. “I'm anxious to know if you've learned anything about where Carlotta might be."

"No, so far I have no leads. I was hoping you'd have information that might help."

She placed her mug on the coffee table. “I wish I could. That woman is such an air head and is not responsible. Can you imagine leaving a ten year old child to fend for herself when all this horrible stuff is going on in the world?” She slapped her hands against her thighs. “Oh, it just makes me crazy. She doesn't let Tiffany be a little girl who would like to play with dolls. No, she has her dressed in hip huggers and has her wearing make-up like a whore.” She jumped up and paced the floor. “Making her grow up way too fast without encouraging the child to have any kind of an imagination."

"What does Tiffany think of the demons and dragons you have displayed?"

Delia laughed. “I wouldn't approve of her reading any of my books. I tell her they're something she can look forward to when she grows up. We go to the library and check out literature for her age level. Then we sit around the pool and read together. Sometimes, I'll even read to her. She loves it."

"How does Carlotta take your hobby?"

Delia twisted her mouth into a scowl. “I don't really care. That woman doesn't appear to have a brain cell working. I'd like to adopt Tiffany and keep her away from her mother, but I have to think about my son. After all, he is her father."

"I must admit you don't look old enough to be Paul's mother. But wouldn't a young child be difficult to raise?"

Her eyes lit up as she sat back down on the chair. “Thank you. I work hard at keeping fit. I like challenges and get along with Tiffany fabulously well. We laugh a lot and do fun things, like shopping and getting ice cream. And the child needs someone to pay attention to her achievements. She's a very talented little artist, but I doubt Carlotta even recognizes it. One day, when Tiffany called me, she was crying. Said her mother had ripped one of her drawings in two and threw it on the floor. Made me furious."

"Getting back to Carlotta. Do you know any of her friends or acquaintances?"

"I've never met many of female friends, but there was woman she introduced me to at her house several months ago."

"Do you remember her name?"

Delia rubbed her temples with her forefingers. “Oh, geez, I can't remember and she appeared a little more levelheaded than Carlotta. I think it was Beth something.” She squinted her eyes, then pointed a finger at him. “Beth Matthews."

Hawkman jotted down the name. “Did she mention her line of work?"

"No. I don't recall her mentioning what she did. And Carlotta didn't say."

"Anyone else?"

"Tulip Withers. She's the daughter of Hank Withers who owns the butcher shop in town. A strange girl and gives the appearance of a wilted flower. Very plain with stringy dishwater blond hair, and has dark circles under her eyes. You'd imagine her a very sick person or one on drugs. Hard to tell."

"Do you know where she works?"

"She's a waitress at Mom's Cafe off Main street. She and this other woman, Beth, were at Carlotta's when I got worried about Tiffany and drove over to check on her."

"Have you found Tiffany home alone often?"

"Oh, yes. And if her mother isn't there within an hour, I go pick her up."

"Have you ever thought about calling Child Services?"

"Yes, but Paul won't hear of it. He says if they get involved, then it would hurt his chances of ever getting Tiffany if he and Carlotta divorced."

"Do you think that might happen?"

She pushed strands of hair behind her ears. “I really doubt it, Mr. Casey. My crazy son is still madly in love with the woman. I can't see why, as she doesn't offer him a thing but pain and agony. The only way it would happen would be she divorces him. Maybe she'll find some truck driver who'll promise her the moon, then whisk her away to some far off land.” She sighed. “I'm afraid though, she does have enough brains to realize the mighty dollar is nice to have. She's never has to want for anything."

"I get the impression you don't care for your daughter-in-law."

"That's an understatement, Mr. Casey. I've never been able to tolerate her very well. From the day Paul and Carlotta got engaged, I tried to discourage him from marrying the girl, but he'd fallen head over heels. Nothing I said discouraged him. To tell you the truth, I think the little bitch got pregnant to make sure he married her, but I can't verify that as Tiffany came right at nine months after they tied the knot.” She took a sip of coffee. “And they seemed fairly happy until about two years ago and then it appeared their marriage fell apart."

"Could you spot a cause?"

"Not really. Of course, Paul worked long hours and they didn't have much of a social life. He tried to get Carlotta involved in a hobby, or with Tiffany's life, but she didn't seem interested. One time I heard them arguing about school events. Carlotta told him she didn't want to be around a bunch of snotty nosed kids with mothers who talked about nothing but cooking meals and kids. The girl hadn't matured and Paul took the brunt of her ravings."

"You said you don't approve of your granddaughter's dress code, but yet, it appears you let her wear those clothes when she's with you and Paul does the same. Can you tell me why she gets away with it when she's with you, since you vehemently disapprove?"