Read Shadows in the Night [Hawkman--Book 12] Online
Authors: Betty Sullivan La Pierre
"They're concerned about some of the untimely deaths of their friends and have brought me in to see if anything is awry."
"You mean at the home?"
"Yes, but we haven't found any problems so far."
"Well, that's a relief."
"Tell me about your husband, Ronald."
"He made me put him in Morning Glory Haven, because he knew I couldn't take care of him. I didn't want him to go, but he insisted. He said we were getting old, didn't have the energy or stamina we used to have, and he didn't want me to go downhill because of him.” She sniffed. “I miss him so much."
"I'm sure you do. What ailment did he have?"
"He had lymphoma. The cancer didn't seem to affect him, but the chemotherapy knocked him for a loop, because of the diabetes. He'd be sick for days."
"Wouldn't he have gotten over it?"
"The doctor thought he would. However, months passed after the treatments and he didn't get much better. He felt he was strong enough to handle his own problems, but he knew it would worry me constantly. At Morning Glory, he didn't have to drive to get where he wanted to go.” She laughed. “To tell you the truth after we visited there, he figured he'd get a lot better food too."
"So did his doctor think putting him in the home was the best thing?"
"Yes, he thought it a good idea for both our sakes. It's a very pleasant place and Ron loved it. I figured it wouldn't be long before I'd join him. He and George Hampton had so much fun. When I'd go spend the day, those two guys would watch sports on the television and I'd join Maggie. We'd watch a movie or play cards at her apartment."
"I imagine your oncologist kept a good eye on your husband."
"I guess he did. Ron would make a trip to see him about once a month. The doctor didn't think he could take any more treatments."
"What's the oncologist's name?"
"Dr. Stephen Riley out of Mercy Hospital."
"Did your husband die of the cancer?"
"No, his heart gave out. Guess it just couldn't handle the diabetes and cancer. He passed away peacefully in his sleep."
"You didn't by any chance have an autopsy done?"
"No, didn't see any need."
Hawkman took a deep breath after ending his call with Mrs. White. No autopsies done on any of these people. He could understand their passing would be anticipated at some point, as they were getting older. The relatives didn't question the doctor's listed cause of death in any of these cases. Now, with this background, he felt more comfortable approaching the three relatives of the Hamptons’ friends. He placed the notes in the briefcase, checked his watch, and headed for Morning Glory Haven.
When he reached the parking lot, he left the files in the vehicle under the driver's seat, locked up and hurried toward the front door. Maggie had just turned the corner, scooting the walker, as George leisurely walked at her side.
She glanced up and smiled. “I didn't think you'd make it."
Hawkman fell in alongside. “Why, I wouldn't miss this adventure. Not sure I remember much, but you two can help me."
Maggie stopped in her tracks. “You've actually played bingo before?"
"Oh, yeah, but it's been about five years when I worked on a case."
"Really?” George said, as they continued slowly toward the entertainment center. “What in the world happened at a bingo hall that would require a private investigator?"
"A young woman never returned home from a night of fun. Her dad hired me to find her."
"Did you?” Maggie asked.
"Yep. Safe and sound. A scary ordeal though."
"How do you keep track of all your cases?"
"I code name them. Like the bingo hall one, I call Blackout."
"When you have time, I'd like to hear some of the other names,” Maggie said, as they entered the large room filled with tables.
Heads turned and attention focused on the tall cowboy with the eye-patch.
"You're certainly getting a lot of attention,” Maggie smirked. “Okay, ladies, focus your eyes to the front. He's mine."
Twitters of laughter filled the air.
They strolled down an aisle, stopped at a table, paid two dollars for a packet of papers, then hunted for a place to sit. The room soon filled to capacity. A large bingo machine took up one end of the room and stood on a slightly elevated stage, high enough so everyone could see the caller.
Once situated at the table, Hawkman noticed they had free coffee and figured this would give him an opportunity to roam around before the games began. “You guys want some Java?"
"None for me,” Maggie said, as she took a bottle of water from her bingo bag. “I get the jitters if I drink too much caffeine. I have my water."
"I'll have a cup,” George said. “Black, please."
Hawkman rose and moseyed around the long way, studying the patrons as he went. A small table occupied one corner where a woman sold daubers, candy bars and assorted chips. He soon returned to the group with two plastic cups of coffee and sat down next to Maggie.
The noise level had gone up several decibels, almost to the point of hurting one's ears. It seemed most people felt they had to yell at one another to make sure the other person heard them. When the noise level lowered, George pushed a blue dauber toward Hawkman.
"You'll need one of these.” He pointed toward the stage area. “The caller's here, so we'll be starting any minute."
"Good luck, guys.” Maggie said, as she placed a miniature elephant on the table.
"What's that for?” Hawkman asked.
"Gives me good luck."
He grinned, as he watched the man flip on the machine.
"Okay, everyone ready?” the caller asked.
"Yeah!” they all yelled.
When the session ended, Hawkman walked back to Maggie's apartment with the couple. “Do they have the magician's show in the same place?"
"No, it will be in the big room with the jukebox. They set up a small portable stage so the entertainer is high enough for everyone to see. Makes it more like a small auditorium,” George said.
"This place sure has much to offer,” Hawkman said. “No wonder you enjoy being here, Maggie."
"It should have a lot of stuff. It's expensive enough,” George said.
"I agree. I saw a breakdown of the costs."
"I'm going to rest awhile,” Maggie said, heading for the bedroom.
"You feeling okay?” Hawkman asked.
"I'm fine, just a bit pooped. I'll see you tonight."
"Shall I meet you downstairs where the show will be held?"
"That'll be fine. No need for you to come all the way up here. I don't think we'll miss you. You definitely stand out in the crowd."
"Okay, see you two tonight.” He strolled out of the room and ambled down the hallway. A couple of women stood against the wall not far from Maggie's quarters and stared at him. They had their hands in front of their mouths, talking as if he could read their lips. He touched his hat. “Hello, ladies."
One of them pointed. “Mister. What's your name?"
He stopped. “Tom Casey."
"Why are all you strange men coming and going out of Maggie's room?"
"We're her bodyguards."
Her eyes grew wide. “Why does she need someone to protect her?"
"Nothing for you to worry about. It doesn't affect anyone here, so please, don't let our presence disturb you.” He stepped closer. “What are your names?"
"I'm Jessica, but everyone calls me Jessie, and this is Margy."
"Have a good day.” Turning on his heel, he strolled to the elevator, then left the building.
Hawkman parked in the alley behind his office, grabbed the briefcase from under the seat and hurried up the steps. Once inside, he went over his notes and shook his head. The people were all diabetic and each had died of heart failure. It sort of made sense as diabetes was not a disease you could ignore. He'd found nothing to make him suspicious of anyone at the Independent Living place. However, since George had hired him to look into the deaths of their friends, if foul play was involved at the facility he couldn't eliminate the risk of Maggie's life being in danger.
He worked on trying to organize his notes until about thirty minutes before the magic show, then headed out the door. Driving toward the home, he thought about what the magician might be like. This place had definitely gone all out to make the life of the residents not only comfortable, but enjoyable. No wonder Maggie didn't want to go home. She had everything at her fingertips.
He pulled into the parking lot and it surprised him to see it almost full. Several cars trailed behind him, so he quickly found a slot before they were all taken. Checking his watch, he still had close to ten minutes before show time. He observed the people as they climbed out of their cars and headed for the entrance. Several children accompanied the adults. A pleasant outing for them; not only would they be able to see their grandparents, but would also be entertained. Good psychology, he thought.
Hawkman climbed out of his vehicle and ambled toward the entry. When he walked inside, a line of people weaved down the hallway toward a small table with a person selling tickets. The room had been roped off and people entered once they'd bought in. He didn't see the Hamptons, so decided to go up to the second floor. When the elevator door slid open, the Hamptons were waiting and stepped inside.
"I didn't realize these were public shows,” Hawkman said, moving over.
"They aren't,” Maggie said. “Only family members of the residents can attend and we're allowed to bring a guest. Of course, we have to pay for them. Hope you brought some money."
"I'm covered. How much?"
George pulled out his wallet as they strolled to the end of the line. “Five dollars a head, and three for children under twelve."
Hawkman gestured toward the crowd. “From the looks of this large group, the expenses should be covered."
"They usually get a good turnout on these types of shows,” George said. “Kids love a magician, and Saturday is a good time to come see grandma or grandpa."
The line moved swiftly, and they found good seats almost immediately. Hawkman noted they had a stage and a spot light from the ceiling, along with large speakers on each side. He leaned toward the Hamptons. “This is a great setup. Bet it cost a small fortune to buy all these props."
George nodded. “Believe me, we pay for it."
The lights dimmed and the show began. The magician did an excellent job. He held everyone's attention by telling funny stories along with doing tricks, and involving the audience which kept the younger set in stitches. After the performance, Hawkman walked the couple back to Maggie's apartment.
"I really enjoyed myself,” he said. “The guy was good. He even had me laughing at his antics."
Maggie flopped down on one of the small couches in her cozy living room. “Their entertainment here is usually excellent. I don't think we've seen a show yet we didn't like. In the warmer months they have all sorts of festivals between the buildings around the fish pond. Very pleasant."
"No wonder there's a waiting list for this place. I'm sure the word has gotten around about all the benefits."
Maggie put her feet up on the ottoman. “George, could you pull off my shoes and get my scuffs out of the closet? These are not my most comfortable pair."
He obliged and shook his head. “Women. I don't understand why they have to have everything a size smaller than they wear."
"Oh, George. They're the right size, they're just made different."
Hawkman raised a hand. “Before I forget, tell me the schedule for meals on Sunday? Do you have the normal three a day routine?"
"Oh, yes.” Maggie said. “The dining room is open all day, just as it is during the week.” Maggie looked at him questionably. “Why are you interested in the meal schedule?"
"Just curious. What about people who are vegetarians, or allergic to certain foods?"
George stroked his fingers across his chin. “On the menu are special dishes you can order. So it's no problem."
"How is it you get to eat in the dining room, but don't live with Maggie?” Hawkman asked.
"We pay a small extra fee for me to have at least two meals a day."
"Hawkman nodded, then turned toward Maggie. “I'll get out of here so you can prepare for bed. Thanks for a pleasant evening, and I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Maggie rose, tottered a moment, then grabbed her walker. “Oh, I hate almost losing my balance.” Once stable, she added. “Have a good evening."
Hawkman headed down the hallway, wondering why Maggie appeared anxious for him to leave. He glanced over his shoulder as he waited for the elevator, and spotted her coming out of her room, pushing the walker at quite a rate of speed.
Hawkman thought about returning to Maggie's apartment, but decided against it, as George could handle her antics. He realized Maggie's freedom to roam the halls and visit her cronies had been squelched by her hovering bodyguards. She probably felt like a caged animal and needed a breather. Also, she needed to reassure her friends that things were okay.
Driving home, he thought about his schedule for tomorrow. He planned to arrive at the office early, then later in the day drop in on Maggie and see if anything new had developed. He still needed to get in touch with Gracie Parker, the old maid sister of George's checker partner, Eddie, and to touch base with Sybil's son.
When he pulled into the driveway, he could see the faint glow of a lamp through the kitchen window. Entering the house, he put his briefcase on the counter and found Jennifer lounging on the couch with a throw over her legs, engrossed in a television program. Miss Marple cuddled beside her, raised her head for a moment, then nestled back in the groove of Jennifer's arm.
"Hi, Hon,” Hawkman said.
She put a finger to her lips. “Just a minute, it's almost over and I don't want to miss the ending."
He nodded and opened the refrigerator. His mouth watered at the sight of the potato salad and baked beans she'd saved for their Sunday dinner.
"I could see you drooling all the way in here,” Jennifer laughed. She crossed into the kitchen, pulled out the bowls of food and a large package of ham wrapped in foil. “Go ahead, there's plenty for tomorrow too. I gather you didn't get a chance to eat."