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Hawke watched as the Air Idaho Life-Flight helicopter lifted into the air. Deputy Mathews went with them after the paramedic determined Hawke’s bleeding on his hands and a couple of scrapes on his face were superficial. Now that the excitement was over, the scratches stung like a son-of-a-bitch.
He dragged his body up into the saddle. His legs felt like the long flimsy strips of leather his mother would cut to use as lacing. He hadn’t hurdled that many objects since being on the high school track team. And that was forty years ago. No wonder his muscles were quivering like a newborn colt.
As he rode toward the hut, he contemplated what Mathews had told him about his encounter with the woman. She’d apparently known he was coming, or that both of them were, since she’d made good time finding his horse and mule. But why had she tied the man up and not killed him as she had Sheridan? This wasn’t making any sense. If she was a ruthless killer, who had used him to find Sheridan, why hadn’t she killed Mathews?
He dismounted at the hut, hanging onto the saddle horn to give his legs a chance to transition from dangling to walking. When he’d been running to make sure his animals weren’t harmed, he hadn’t thought about the obstacles and how at his age he shouldn’t be sprinting and leaping. Now, he understood just how far he could push his body. The realization was hard to swallow.
Inside the hut, he scanned the small ten by ten room. It would be a comfortable place to recuperate from all that had happened. However, he wasn’t here for a vacation. He had to discover more about Ms. Cox and how she and Sheridan became mixed up.
After searching the inside and finding her belongings, including a computer, he decided to spend the night here and get back to his truck and trailer in the morning. Hawke unsaddled the horse and mule, fed them the hay cubes from the pack, and tied them under the camouflage netting by the hut.
Dog plopped on the small cot and fell asleep.
Hawke found the generator but didn’t start it. He also discovered a propane cookstove and helped himself to a can of stew and made a pot of coffee. As the food heated, he opened the computer.
Turning the device on, he was pleased to see it had a nearly full battery. The downside, it required a password to get to any of the files. He rifled through a notebook and small datebook in her pack. Nothing revealed a password.
He tried Shoat. Nothing.
Theodore. Nothing
Felix. Nothing.
White. Nothing.
He stared at the screen. A thought struck.
Typing Uncle Teddy, he had a sensation he was being watched. Hawke glanced at the window. Nothing. Horse and Jack were on the side of the building. They would have made a fuss if someone had sneaked by them after their earlier experience.
Hawke glanced down at the screen and the computer had opened. He was in.
The documents were all under files. He scanned the file names and saw one that was titled White. He opened it and many other files and documents popped up. Some were copies of the records he’d received for the investigation. Others were interviews with people who knew Felix White.
The coffee boiled, and he rescued it from boiling over. His mind was on the information in the computer. He poured a cup of coffee, turned off the gas to the stove, and sat back down.
All the interviews stated Felix wasn’t a violent person. They couldn’t understand why anyone would think he’d killed that family. Hawke didn’t understand why the people were so adamant when his police record appeared to show an escalating tendency to violence.
He clicked on the police file on White. Tonya had highlighted the arrests and made comments in comment boxes in the margins of the documents.
The first altercation the police responded to was in January of the year he was first sent to jail. It was at a party in Boise. It appeared White had been attending college at Boise State for Environmental Studies. The police broke up the party and an intoxicated White had yelled profanities at them. Tonya’s comment on the side: Felix wasn’t in Boise on this date.
The next police report stated White had gotten into a fight with another student at a bar not far from the campus. Tonya’s comment: Felix was at his apartment working on a project with another student.
The final document was a file on the arrest of Felix White for assault with a deadly weapon on a speaker at the college. He was given five years and when he was released, he went home and killed the people living in his shack along with Tonya’s uncle.
Again, there was a comment on the side. Felix didn’t have a quarrel with the visiting lecturer. He was in his apartment sick with the flu.
Hawke shook his head. This wouldn’t be the first time someone was wrongly accused. But he wondered that Tonya was keeping it quiet and secretly helping White. He had a feeling everything on this computer would explain it all.
Even though it was one of the smaller, thin computer devices, he had the sense to know if she was digging into the truth, whoever railroaded White into jail would be looking for it. Hawke dug around in Tonya’s pack and found a flash drive. He stuck it into the computer and opened it. The flash drive appeared to have all the same documents as the computer. With the exception of one that was titled “Bringing Down the Corrupt.” He opened it and discovered a manuscript. That was why she was so determined to dig for the truth. She was writing a book about the events.
He clicked out of the flash drive, pulled it out of the computer, and tucked the drive into the bottom of the sheath in his boot where he kept his knife.
Picking up the pot of tepid stew, he ate, filling his belly and letting Dog have the rest. Tomorrow, he’d load Tonya’s belongings onto Horse and head for home. He’d go through all of Ms. Cox’s notes and see if he couldn’t figure out how she’d discovered the information she did and why she hadn’t gone to authorities other than the police. It was obvious the police had railroaded White. But why?
«»«»«»
Hawke breathed a sigh of relief as he walked Jack up to the truck and trailer at Pittsburgh campground. He’d nearly fallen off the horse twice, whipping his head around at a sound that made him think someone was following. Dog had appeared just as nervous. He wasn’t sure if it was knowing two deaths had been caused because an innocent man was sent to prison or because there was someone watching them.
He was too tired and wanted to get the evidence he had back to the Oregon State Police, seeing as how there was someone in law enforcement in Idaho that couldn’t be trusted to try and catch whoever might be following him.
Usually, he unsaddled the animals. Today, he set the pack boxes, including the one with Ms. Cox’s belongings into the horse trailer first, then led the two animals in, loosening their cinches but not unsaddling them. He wanted on the road.
“Let’s go,” he said to Dog, holding the driver’s side door open on the pickup.
Dog leaped into the cab.
Hawke slid behind the steering wheel, shut the door, and turned the key, waiting for the plugs to warm up. The lights went off. He turned the key farther to start the engine. Nothing happened.
Someone had sabotaged his truck. There was no other explanation. He’d never had problems with this engine. He kept it up to date with oil changes and any other mechanical thing that needed to be done.
Whoever had been watching and following him had a partner who’d messed with his truck. Did he dare step out and work on it, leaving his back vulnerable? Would they think he knew more than he did? Shit!
He opened his cell phone and called Sergeant Spruel.
“Spruel.”
“Sarge, I’m sitting in my truck at Pittsburgh Campground in Idaho. Someone sabotaged it, and I’m pretty sure I’m being watched.”
“Why are you being watched? I heard they air flighted the woman to a Boise hospital last night.”
“You need to make sure she has someone keeping her safe.” He told Spruel what he’d read on the computer and how he figured there were some corrupt officials involved.
“I have the flash drive in my boot sheath if anything happens to me. I just wanted you to know what I know before I step out and work on my truck.”
“Be careful, Hawke. I’ll see the woman gets protection and send a trooper your way.” The connection went dead.
Hawke heaved a deep breath and opened the truck door after flipping the latch to the hood of the vehicle. “Come,” he ordered Dog who had already fallen asleep on the passenger seat.
The animal stretched and slowly jumped out of the cab.
Hawke placed Dog sitting with his back to the front of the vehicle. “Watch,” he told the dog, scanning the three other unoccupied vehicles in the parking area before opening the truck hood and leaning under the hood to inspect the motor. He discovered someone had removed the fuel filter. Did the person take it or toss it?
If it was tossed, he could find it and be out of here quicker than waiting for someone to bring him a new one.
He left the hood up and raised his right arm. If he had taken the fuel filter off... He slammed the hood down with his left hand and threw with his right. Hawke kept his eye on the area his hand had pointed to when he threw. He walked to the area and started searching like he would when looking for evidence. After fifteen minutes, he found the filter.
Back at the truck, he opened the hood and replaced the piece. Within an hour of first trying to start his vehicle, he was pulling out of the campground. He called Spruel to tell him he was headed back and what route he was taking. As much as he wanted to check on Tonya Cox, he wanted to get back to Wallowa County and get the flash drive and computer into the hands of people he trusted.