Shadows in the Night [Hawkman--Book 12] by Betty Sullivan La Pierre Page A

parking lot, he licked his lips. A bear claw with a cup of coffee would sure taste good. He hoped Clyde hadn't closed, and hurried toward the donut shop. The lights were still on, and the bronze bell clattered as he opened the door. A big smile creased the face of the baker.
    "Oh, you're one lucky man. All pastries are half off."
    Hawkman smiled as he pulled money from his jeans pocket. “In that case, I'll take two.” He carried his prizes upstairs and put on the coffee pot. While waiting for it to brew, he plugged the recorder into the wall socket to recharge.
    He settled behind the desk and moved a yellow legal pad toward him, took a big bite of a bear claw and washed it down with a swig of coffee. “Aaah, that's good,” he said out loud.
    Punching on the recorder, he went through the interviews of Lisa Montgomery and Perry Foster. When he finished writing down the needed information, he read through the notes. Fred Horn's personal physician, Dr. Eva Paulson, might well be worth a visit to determine what she thought about her patient's death. It would be interesting to find out more information on those who'd previously passed. He hoped the relatives would be cooperative.
    Hawkman gathered up his notes, and put them into a folder, which he then slid into his briefcase. When he left the office, he met Clyde as he came around the corner of the building.
    "Hey, you're working late tonight."
    The baker stopped and smiled. “Needed to clean the ovens and it always takes longer when I decide to mop the sticky floors."
    "Sounds like a messy job to me."
    He nodded. “Appears you're working overtime too."
    "Yep, new case,” Hawkman said. “Have a good evening."
    Both men waved and walked toward their vehicles.
    Driving home, Hawkman went over the people involved in this case and wondered if anything would come of it. It seemed odd to have murders in an old folks home where the patients were destined to spend their last days. The world is a strange place, he mused.
    He felt the tension leave his body as he rolled over the bridge and could see his house. Jennifer had every light on. She usually sat at her computer, but it looked like tonight, something had taken precedence. He drove into the garage and strolled in the front door. The smell of meat baking swirled around his nose.
    "My word, what's going on? I've never seen so many cooking utensils out at one time in this house."
    A dish towel flung over her shoulder, she moved a pan to the pile in the sink and lifted a large fancy bowl from the cabinet. “Hi, honey. Remember, I told you there had been a death in the Perlick family, and many people have journeyed to their home. A group of us got together and decided to take turns furnishing a dinner for a few days, until the company slows down. I'm fixing it for tomorrow."
    "That's a very kind gesture from all of you."
    "You know Carole would do it for us."
    "Yes, she would.” He placed his briefcase on the counter and sniffed the air. “It sure smells good. What are you fixing for these lucky people?"
    She counted off on her fingers. “I decided on ham, baked beans and potato salad."
    He frowned. “So it's all going down the street? I love your potato salad and baked beans, not to mention ham."
    Patting him on the shoulder, she grinned. “Don't worry, I'm making extra, so there will be plenty for us to have for our meal on Sunday."
    His sad expression dissolved. “Great, it will give me something to think about besides eccentric old people."
    She raised her brows. “Shame on you. We'll be old one of these days."
    He rocked back on his heels and looked at her mischievously. “Didn't you tell me when I took on this case that it'd be a doozie? I'd be talking with a bunch of people who couldn't hear, have a hard time getting around and wouldn't remember what happened fifteen minutes ago."
    Her cheeks turned pink. “Well, I really didn't mean it. However, you still might have trouble getting reliable information."
    The