open, and fingered through the few sheets, then pulled out a photo. “Is this the man?"
Hawkman leaned forward and looked into a very strong and tough looking face. “I'm not sure. I've only heard about him. What's the file say?"
Williams scanned a couple of the sheets and then handed them to Hawkman. “I vaguely remember this incident. Several years ago, he killed a man on the reservation in self-defense. The police never got involved as their chiefs handled it. If I remember correctly, the tribal commune banned him from the reservation. But we've obviously had no problems with him, as there's nothing here except those few pages."
"Is there a chance I could get a copy of this picture?"
"Sure.” Williams got up and went over to a copy machine in the corner.
"Say,” Hawkman said, “you've come up in the world. When did they allow you that toy?"
The detective laughed. “They presented it to me just last week. Said they were sick and tired of me jamming up the one down in the main lobby."
He returned to his desk and handed the sheet of paper to Hawkman. “Now, tell me why all the interest in this guy. Does he have something to do with Parker?"
"I'd say in a round about way. He might be Maryann's father."
Williams’ mouth dropped open. “You mean he's Ms. Parker's lover?” He flopped back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion in just a few days, when the whole town of Yreka has wondered for years."
Hawkman chuckled. “I'll never reveal my snitches."
The detective leaned forward with a solemn expression. “You know I visited Lilly and her daughter a couple of days ago?"
"Yes. I heard. Sam told me. What's your impression this time?"
"Normal. Anytime police come into your home, people get nervous. First time I'd seen her daughter and she acted a little catty, but hell, she's just protecting her mom. So I didn't think too much about it.” He glanced at his calendar. “That reminds me. I have an appointment with Burke Parker's doctor this afternoon. You going to be around?"
"Yeah."
"Well, how about being my unofficial helper. Of course, I can't pay you."
Hawkman chuckled. “Have I ever been paid by this police force?"
Williams furrowed his brow and studied the ceiling. “Yeah, several years ago. I think we paid you to help on a case. Can't remember which one though. I'd have to look it up."
Hawkman grinned and waved a hand in the air. “Don't bother. What time do you go see the doctor?"
"At three thirty. Oh, by the way, when did you grow the mustache?"
"About time you noticed. I've had it for almost a year. You thought I'd gotten a hair cut."
The detective guffawed. “That was during the Jamey Schyler-Gray debacle."
"Yep.” Hawkman rose. “Well, I won't keep you any longer. I'll see you at three thirty. Thanks for the picture."
"Let me know what you find out about that Indian. So far we haven't classified the Parker death as a homicide. But things could get sticky."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hawkman left the detective's office and climbed into the 4X4. He sat for a minute holding his cell phone, then decided to give Curly a call at home. If anyone knew about Maduk, he was the man. And he could probably give him more information on Burke Parker.
Curly picked up on the second ring.
"Hey, man. Have you quit screening your calls?"
He laughed. “Hawkman, haven't heard from you in a long time. What are you up to?
"If you're not busy, thought I'd drop by."
"Never too busy for a buddy. You just get your butt right over here and we'll have a great cup of java."
"Be there in a few minutes.” Hanging up, he thought about Curly's coffee. A brew so strong it'd grow hair on a bald man. He chuckled to himself as he drove away from the police station.
Hawkman parked on the street in front of Curly's house, and strolled up the narrow sidewalk to the small front porch. Before he could ring the bell, Curly opened the door, greeting him with a big
Hawkman leaned forward and looked into a very strong and tough looking face. “I'm not sure. I've only heard about him. What's the file say?"
Williams scanned a couple of the sheets and then handed them to Hawkman. “I vaguely remember this incident. Several years ago, he killed a man on the reservation in self-defense. The police never got involved as their chiefs handled it. If I remember correctly, the tribal commune banned him from the reservation. But we've obviously had no problems with him, as there's nothing here except those few pages."
"Is there a chance I could get a copy of this picture?"
"Sure.” Williams got up and went over to a copy machine in the corner.
"Say,” Hawkman said, “you've come up in the world. When did they allow you that toy?"
The detective laughed. “They presented it to me just last week. Said they were sick and tired of me jamming up the one down in the main lobby."
He returned to his desk and handed the sheet of paper to Hawkman. “Now, tell me why all the interest in this guy. Does he have something to do with Parker?"
"I'd say in a round about way. He might be Maryann's father."
Williams’ mouth dropped open. “You mean he's Ms. Parker's lover?” He flopped back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion in just a few days, when the whole town of Yreka has wondered for years."
Hawkman chuckled. “I'll never reveal my snitches."
The detective leaned forward with a solemn expression. “You know I visited Lilly and her daughter a couple of days ago?"
"Yes. I heard. Sam told me. What's your impression this time?"
"Normal. Anytime police come into your home, people get nervous. First time I'd seen her daughter and she acted a little catty, but hell, she's just protecting her mom. So I didn't think too much about it.” He glanced at his calendar. “That reminds me. I have an appointment with Burke Parker's doctor this afternoon. You going to be around?"
"Yeah."
"Well, how about being my unofficial helper. Of course, I can't pay you."
Hawkman chuckled. “Have I ever been paid by this police force?"
Williams furrowed his brow and studied the ceiling. “Yeah, several years ago. I think we paid you to help on a case. Can't remember which one though. I'd have to look it up."
Hawkman grinned and waved a hand in the air. “Don't bother. What time do you go see the doctor?"
"At three thirty. Oh, by the way, when did you grow the mustache?"
"About time you noticed. I've had it for almost a year. You thought I'd gotten a hair cut."
The detective guffawed. “That was during the Jamey Schyler-Gray debacle."
"Yep.” Hawkman rose. “Well, I won't keep you any longer. I'll see you at three thirty. Thanks for the picture."
"Let me know what you find out about that Indian. So far we haven't classified the Parker death as a homicide. But things could get sticky."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hawkman left the detective's office and climbed into the 4X4. He sat for a minute holding his cell phone, then decided to give Curly a call at home. If anyone knew about Maduk, he was the man. And he could probably give him more information on Burke Parker.
Curly picked up on the second ring.
"Hey, man. Have you quit screening your calls?"
He laughed. “Hawkman, haven't heard from you in a long time. What are you up to?
"If you're not busy, thought I'd drop by."
"Never too busy for a buddy. You just get your butt right over here and we'll have a great cup of java."
"Be there in a few minutes.” Hanging up, he thought about Curly's coffee. A brew so strong it'd grow hair on a bald man. He chuckled to himself as he drove away from the police station.
Hawkman parked on the street in front of Curly's house, and strolled up the narrow sidewalk to the small front porch. Before he could ring the bell, Curly opened the door, greeting him with a big
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