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Chapter23
THE HAWKINSES’ OLD HOME.
It wasn’t empty. There was a car parked in the driveway.
It was the next day and Decker trudged up the steps to the front door of the house, as he eyed the kids’ toys in the front yard.
He knocked and instantly heard cries from young children, the scraping of animal claws on hardwood, and then the firm tread of grown-up feet coming toward the front door. It opened to reveal a young woman around thirty. Her brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and her face held the weary features of a mother with young children. This was confirmed when three small faces poked out from behind her.
“Yes?” she said, looking Decker up and down. “There’s no solicitation in this neighborhood, just so you know.”
“I’m not selling anything,” he said as he held out his FBI credentials.
She took a step back after looking at his ID. “You’re with the FBI?” she said skeptically. “I thought they wore suits.”
“Some do, I’m just not one of them. And I’m kind of a hard size to fit.”
She stared up at him and nodded. “I can see that. What can I do for you?”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Two years. What is this about?”
“Over a dozen years ago, a family named Hawkins lived here.” He glanced down at the kids. “Can we speak privately?”
She looked back at her children, two twin boys and one girl, all between the ages of three and five. “I’m afraid I don’t have any privacy,” she said with a resigned smile. “Look, why don’t you come in?” She led him inside and the children backed away, staring up at the giant Decker in fear.
“Hey kids,” said the woman suddenly. “Cookies in the kitchen. One each only! And Iwillcheck.”
The three took off. They were joined by a wire-haired terrier that shot out from behind a piece of furniture, where apparently he’d been cowering.
“Yeah, some watchdog, that Peaches,” said the woman dryly. “Now, what about this other family?”
“I’ll get right to the point since I doubt we have much time before your kids come back. A gun that was used in a serious crime years ago was found behind a wall in the master bedroom closet here. I wanted to take a look at that spot.”
The woman’s features collapsed. “Good Lord. Nobody told us about that when we bought the place. I thought the Realtor had to tell you stuff like that. When did it happen?”
“About thirteen years ago. And no crime was committed here, technically.”
“And you still haven’t found this person?”
“No, we did. He was in prison. Then he got out. And a few days ago someone murdered him.”
“Oh my God,” said the woman, putting a hand to her face. “But if he was convicted of the crime involving the gun, why do you need to see the place where it was found?”
“Because I’m not sure if he actuallydidcommit those crimes.”
Her features took on a look of understanding. “Oh, you mean this is like one of those cold case things? I like those shows. Not that I get a chance to watch much TV anymore.”
“Right, exactly. A cold case.” Decker heard a rush of footsteps coming their way. “I think the cavalry’s returning. So if you could let me see it?”
“Sure, come on back.”
She led him to the bedroom. “Excuse the mess. I barely have time to brush my teeth with three rug rats.”
“I’m sure.”
A crash came from somewhere within the house, and then the sounds of Peaches barking and someone crying.
