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

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."
    "No, and this looks delicious.” He took a plate out of the cabinet. “How'd it go today?"
    "Real good. Peggy took over a huge chocolate cake, along with a big bean salad Kay had made. The Perlicks were delighted."
    "I'm sure it lifted a burden off Carole's shoulders for you gals to volunteer your services,” he said, scooping large spoonfuls of food onto his dish.
    "It would have worn her out to cook for such a crowd. There are still a dozen or more people there."
    He moved around the bar and sat down on a stool. “They have many friends."
    "Yes, they do.” She plopped down opposite him. “Enough about my day, how'd yours go?"
    "Not real productive yet. Still doing background stuff. Once I get it completed, I hope the information will point me in the right direction to solve the problem. If there is one."
    "Anything pique your interest yet?"
    "I find it sort of disarming all the people passed away in their sleep. I did make a few calls to the relatives of people who'd passed away before the three mentioned Hamptons’ friends."
    "Dig up anything of interest?"
    "One call bothered me, but didn't concern the case.” He told her about Faith Lambert who was disliked by everyone, even her family.
    Jennifer placed her fingers over her mouth. “Oh, my word. What a horrible story. How could children hate their mother so much?"
    * * * *
    Sunday morning, Hawkman rolled out of bed and left the house at an early hour. The extra bear claw he'd saved at the office, with a cup of coffee, would make a good breakfast. He drove slowly around Copco Lake, knowing the deer roamed during the dawn hours, and he sure didn't want one to jump out in front of him.
    Once on the freeway, he met light traffic, so accelerated to the speed limit, and arrived at the office in record time. He noticed the red light blinking on his answering machine, but first he put on the coffee and removed the pastry from the refrigerator, wrapped it in a paper towel, then zapped it in the microwave for a few seconds. Settling behind his desk with a full mug of steaming brew and the warm delicacy, he punched up the message.
    Sybil's son, Jason Patterson, had returned his call and suggested he contact him at his home over the weekend. Hawkman wrote the number the man had recited on the yellow legal pad. He glanced at his watch and figured it was after nine, so probably a good time to call. Washing down the last bite of the bear claw with a gulp of coffee, he punched on the speaker phone and dialed.
    "Jason Patterson,” a male voice answered.
    Hawkman introduced himself again and explained why he'd called. “I'd just like to ask you a few questions."
    "Sure, even though I know bad things happen at nursing homes, I researched several, and found no black marks against Morning Glory Haven."
    "I've discovered nothing in their background to suggest a problem. My main reason for calling is I wondered if you have any questions in your mind about your mother's sudden demise?"
    "Yes and no. Mom had gotten up there in age and had trouble keeping her house clean, along with cooking her meals. My sisters and I were concerned about her using a gas stove. We've heard