![In for the Kill [Hawkman Series Book 9]](/res/dh/book4.jpg)
Read Online In for the Kill [Hawkman Series Book 9] by Betty Sullivan La Pierre - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Betty Sullivan La Pierre
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for a few seconds, then went straight to the corner filing cabinet behind the counter. He sorted through some folders, and eventually retrieved one. “Here it is.” Removing a couple of pieces of paper, he placed them on the surface. “This is the information we took from his driver's license."
Williams glanced at the sheets. “Do you have a scanner?"
"Yes."
"Could you make me a copy, please? Did you rent the car to this man?"
Fielding shook his head as he placed them on the copier. “No, I just overlook the business. I'm seldom here.” Glancing at part of the invoice, he pointed at a line. “Charles rented it to him and he's on vacation right now. He'll be back in about three days."
Williams studied the report once Fielding handed it over. Fortunately, the driver's license picture had come out bright and clear.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Detective Williams studied the address on the license. “I see Mr. Hargrove is from out of state. Did he mention why he was in Oregon?"
"I couldn't say; you'd have to ask Charles."
He waved a hand. “That's right. You weren't here."
"If you'll wait a minute, I'll see if I can get hold of Mr. Hargrove at the motel where he's staying."
"Good idea."
Fielding opened the phone book to the yellow pages, held the receiver between his fat chin and shoulder, then punched in numbers as his finger tapped across the page. “Please ring Mr. J. Hargrove's room.” His eyebrows rose. “I see. Did he leave a forwarding address?"
He hung up and glanced at Williams. “He checked out about two hours ago, and didn't leave any information on how he could be reached."
Williams turned toward the door. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Fielding. If I find this man, I'll let you know. I have a feeling he's left you with a big bill. But I'm going to ask you not to have the car repaired until I have my lab crew go over it."
"I understand. I won't send the automobile into the shop until I get your okay.” A slight grin curled the corners of his mouth as he held up one of the sheets. “I do have Mr. Hargrove's credit card number, so he might get a little surprise on his statement."
The detective stepped into the peppering rain, stashed the report under his jacket, and dashed to his car. Once inside the vehicle, he twisted the key in the ignition, then checked the name of the motel and drove into the street. He entered the driveway of the establishment, and parked under the large fancy overhang. When he approached the plush front desk, he flashed his badge and asked to see the manager.
Williams spoke with him for several minutes, but received no more information. Back in the car, he wondered if Hargrove had left the area. Since he'd be on foot, he'd more than likely take a taxi to his destination. The detective called one of his officers and instructed him to check the taxicab businesses and the bus station while he inquired at the airport.
After several hours of studying each airline's passenger list, and finding nothing suspicious, he made copies of the pictured license and distributed them to the attendants in case Hargrove tried to board on a ‘standby’ status. He talked with his officers after he'd finished and they'd also come up empty handed. It appeared the man had disappeared into thin air. “Where the hell has he gone?” he mumbled, getting into his vehicle.
He'd done all he could today, and the hour approached midnight. Rubbing the back of his neck, his thoughts went to Hawkman. More than likely Jennifer had him home and tucked into bed by now. Williams chuckled to himself, as he pictured his friend's resistance.
* * * *
At the hospital, Hawkman slowly walked into the waiting room. Jennifer jumped up and went to his side. “Have they dismissed you?"
The doctor, who'd followed him out, interrupted. “He doesn't have a concussion, only a bad lump on the head and a few stitches. But I want him home in bed as soon as you can get him there. A couple days’ rest and he should be as good
Williams glanced at the sheets. “Do you have a scanner?"
"Yes."
"Could you make me a copy, please? Did you rent the car to this man?"
Fielding shook his head as he placed them on the copier. “No, I just overlook the business. I'm seldom here.” Glancing at part of the invoice, he pointed at a line. “Charles rented it to him and he's on vacation right now. He'll be back in about three days."
Williams studied the report once Fielding handed it over. Fortunately, the driver's license picture had come out bright and clear.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Detective Williams studied the address on the license. “I see Mr. Hargrove is from out of state. Did he mention why he was in Oregon?"
"I couldn't say; you'd have to ask Charles."
He waved a hand. “That's right. You weren't here."
"If you'll wait a minute, I'll see if I can get hold of Mr. Hargrove at the motel where he's staying."
"Good idea."
Fielding opened the phone book to the yellow pages, held the receiver between his fat chin and shoulder, then punched in numbers as his finger tapped across the page. “Please ring Mr. J. Hargrove's room.” His eyebrows rose. “I see. Did he leave a forwarding address?"
He hung up and glanced at Williams. “He checked out about two hours ago, and didn't leave any information on how he could be reached."
Williams turned toward the door. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Fielding. If I find this man, I'll let you know. I have a feeling he's left you with a big bill. But I'm going to ask you not to have the car repaired until I have my lab crew go over it."
"I understand. I won't send the automobile into the shop until I get your okay.” A slight grin curled the corners of his mouth as he held up one of the sheets. “I do have Mr. Hargrove's credit card number, so he might get a little surprise on his statement."
The detective stepped into the peppering rain, stashed the report under his jacket, and dashed to his car. Once inside the vehicle, he twisted the key in the ignition, then checked the name of the motel and drove into the street. He entered the driveway of the establishment, and parked under the large fancy overhang. When he approached the plush front desk, he flashed his badge and asked to see the manager.
Williams spoke with him for several minutes, but received no more information. Back in the car, he wondered if Hargrove had left the area. Since he'd be on foot, he'd more than likely take a taxi to his destination. The detective called one of his officers and instructed him to check the taxicab businesses and the bus station while he inquired at the airport.
After several hours of studying each airline's passenger list, and finding nothing suspicious, he made copies of the pictured license and distributed them to the attendants in case Hargrove tried to board on a ‘standby’ status. He talked with his officers after he'd finished and they'd also come up empty handed. It appeared the man had disappeared into thin air. “Where the hell has he gone?” he mumbled, getting into his vehicle.
He'd done all he could today, and the hour approached midnight. Rubbing the back of his neck, his thoughts went to Hawkman. More than likely Jennifer had him home and tucked into bed by now. Williams chuckled to himself, as he pictured his friend's resistance.
* * * *
At the hospital, Hawkman slowly walked into the waiting room. Jennifer jumped up and went to his side. “Have they dismissed you?"
The doctor, who'd followed him out, interrupted. “He doesn't have a concussion, only a bad lump on the head and a few stitches. But I want him home in bed as soon as you can get him there. A couple days’ rest and he should be as good
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