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The house was quiet when Hawke entered. “Mom? Kitree?” he called.
Nothing. It was close to dinner time. Mom always had dinner cooking and ready for whoever happened to be there. Panic squeezed his chest. Had he been too relaxed thinking the murderer wouldn’t find Kitree here?
“Mom! Kitree!” He charged through the house, throwing open doors and fearing what he might see.
“Stop hollering, you’ll get the neighbors all in a twit.” Mom walked through the back door as Hawke entered the kitchen.
“Where’s Kitree?” The panic released his rib cage enough to allow him to take a deep breath.
“Outside. She said she felt safer when she was on the mountain, so we are cooking over a fire in the backyard for dinner.” Mom opened the refrigerator door, then closed it. “That child was crying her eyes out this afternoon, worrying her being here would bring trouble to me and others.” Her filmy brown eyes peered into his. “What kind of trouble did you bring here?”
He sighed. “Kitree’s parents were killed. Shot. We have reason to believe that same man is after Kitree.”
Mom pursed her lips. “Why did you bring her here?”
“To keep her safe. I told Randy Toombs about her and that this area needs double surveillance. I don’t think the man looking for her will figure this out. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I borrowed a friend’s car. One I hope they don’t discover.” He put up a hand when his mom started to say something. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ve thought of a way to flush this man out. I’m going to have Child Services fill out paperwork stating that Tuck and Sage Kimbal, the employees at Charlie’s Hunting Lodge, are going to foster Kitree. Then have Dani Singer, the owner, pretend to fly the girl in. But by the time the murderer gets the information, we’ll already have law enforcement set up at the lodge to catch the person when he shows up.” He thought it was a good solution.
Mom shook her head. “You aren’t going to fool the man if you don’t have a child there for him to see. You think someone who has gotten away from the police for this long wouldn’t make sure he saw the child before he attacked?”
“I don’t want to use Kitree as bait.”
The back door screeched. “I want to catch the man. I want to help.” Kitree stood inside the door.
“How much did you hear?” Hawke hadn’t wanted the child to know about the plan. Because she would do exactly what she was doing right now.
“Enough to know you need me to catch the man who killed my parents.” She walked forward. “The fire is ready.”
His mom nodded and opened the refrigerator, taking out a package of hot dogs. “You go start the dogs. I’ll bring out the buns and ketchup.”
“I can’t cook them all.” Kitree’s gaze landed on him.
Hawke picked up the bag of chips sitting on the table and nodded to the door. “Let’s cook our dinner.”
Kitree smiled and headed out the door.
Hawke glanced over his shoulder at his mom. “Let’s keep the conversation on other things.”
She nodded. But he could tell she wasn’t happy with him for not telling her the truth, or his idea for catching a killer.
«»«»«»
After dinner as they sat around the fire roasting marshmallows, Hawke brought up Kitree’s family. He’d felt the young woman, Mica’s, version might have been a clearer picture of the family dynamics than the child’s. But he wanted to see if the perceptive girl had known how her parents felt about one another.
“I spoke today with the professors your father worked with.” He started. “They said he worked the early morning to early afternoon classes to be able to pick you up from school.”
Kitree nodded. “He worked the same time before in Fredrick. He said a child shouldn’t have to take care of themselves when they came home from school.”
“But your mom was there?”
Her shoulders sagged and she said, “Momma said work was important. That I was big enough to get a snack, watch T.V., or do my homework without her help.”
“How much did you see your mom?” Hawke could tell the child had thought about her mother’s absence in her life.
“In Walla Walla, she would kiss the top of my head in the morning as I ate breakfast before she went into her office. Daddy would peek in at her when we’d come home.” She pulled her flaming marshmallow out of the flames and blew on it. “Daddy would make me a snack and go work on his stuff in his office and I’d watch TV and do my homework. Momma would come out of the office about six, answer the ringing doorbell, and carry dinner to the kitchen. She always put the food in bowls as if she’d made it, but Daddy and I both knew she ordered from restaurants.”
“What about weekends?” Hawke asked.
“Daddy cooked. Momma would stay in her office most of the day unless Daddy made plans for us to all go somewhere.” She held the blackened, saggy sweet to her mouth. “I don’t think Momma liked either of us very much.”
The gooey mess disappeared into her mouth, leaving a white and black layer on her lips. She licked at the sticky substance and studied him.
It was as if she hoped he’d refute what she’d said. Instead he asked, “Do you think your father resented your mother for making you all move to Walla Walla?”
She nodded without thinking. “They had huge arguments before we moved. He didn’t want to move. He loved where he worked, and I loved my school and friends. But when Momma went to trial, Daddy said she’d just killed us all.” Her eyes widened. “Do you think the man after me is because of what Momma did before we moved?”
Since meeting the child, he’d never once lied to her. He’d withheld information but not lied. “It’s the only thing I can think of. But I don’t understand why they let her continue to work on whatever it was that she was put in protection about.” Hawke made a mental note to contact Mrs. Bergman to see if she could shine some light or give him the name of someone to contact about what the woman had done before. She was the only person with the U.S. Marshal or FBI who seemed to care about Kitree.
“What was life like before you moved?” he asked, hoping to get her thinking of times that had been better.
“We had a big, pretty house. A woman, her name was Julie, she came in once a week and cleaned. In the summer, when Daddy and I didn’t have school, we’d go on picnics the days she came.” Her tone grew happier as she talked. She put another marshmallow on her stick. “Daddy and I did a lot of things together because Momma was always working.”
“Did she go far to go to work?” Hawke asked, eating his nicely toasted, tan marshmallow.
“I think so. She’d leave early in the morning and sometimes come home after I’d gone to bed. Daddy said she wanted nice things and believed she had to work hard to get them.”
The question in the child’s voice said she didn’t understand her mother’s need to work hard.
“She always took our birthdays off and holidays. Momma said growing up she never got to celebrate her birthday, so she wanted to make sure we never missed ours.”
“Why didn’t she get to celebrate her birthday?” If the FBI hadn’t wiped Mrs. Swearen’s information clean, he could discover her maiden name and family’s origins. And perhaps find a relative to take in Kitree.
“Something about religion and one of the reasons she ran away from home.” Kitree pulled her marshmallow out of the flames. “Do you think I have family that doesn’t know about me?”
“Could be.” But if her mother ran away because of religion, it might not be a good reunion. “Tell me more about holidays.”
“Christmas was always fun. Daddy always complained Momma went overboard, but our whole house was covered in decorations and presents piled up under the tree. Momma loved Christmas songs. She played them at home all month long. This last Christmas Daddy was upset that Momma spent so much money buying all new decorations when she didn’t come out of her room long enough to enjoy them.” She bowed her head. “They fought about that, too.”
“Why did she need to buy all new ones?” Hawke asked.
“Because we were only allowed to bring one suitcase of clothes for each of us when we moved. All of our furniture and decorations were left in Maryland. And our house in Walla Walla is a lot smaller and no one comes to clean. Momma had to do the laundry and cook because she didn’t have a job, and Daddy’s money didn’t cover as much as what Momma made before.”
Hawke was beginning to wonder if Mrs. Poulson wasn’t happy with how her life had ended up after testifying.
“We know she ordered out instead of cooking, but how did the house get cleaned if your mom didn’t want to do that?”
“I didn’t tell Daddy, but one day when I was home sick, a lady came in and cleaned the house. Momma told me not to tell Daddy. Momma always said, she didn’t like woman’s work. She was smarter than that.”
“Did you ever get a chance to see what your mother did on the computer?” Hawke knew it was a minimal chance that Kitree would know anything about what her mother did locked in the office.
“I saw it two times when she didn’t get the monitor turned off quick enough. It looked like lines of music but instead of dots there were short lines, dots, and tails.”
Hawke pulled out his phone and googled Arabic writing. When a document came up on the screen, he showed it to the girl.
“That’s what it looked like.” She smiled. “Did I help you?”
His head was pounding. Had Mrs. Poulson been working for the government to uncover terrorists in the U.S. and kept a list? He had a feeling he knew where Kitree’s maternal family lived. In one of the Arabic countries.
“Yes. That will help me narrow things down.” He glanced over at his mom who had been quiet this whole time. “I think it’s time for you to get ready for bed.”
“I agree. If you need to go back to Wallowa County with Gabriel tomorrow, you need to be rested.” Mom stood, holding her hand out to the girl. “But you’ll have to come see me. I’ll want to hear all about your new life.”
The two wandered to the house, chatting in low voices.
Hawke pulled out the pay-as-you-go phone and slid his finger across the screen. It was after eight and Lieutenant Titus was probably at home enjoying an evening with his family, but Hawke had to tell him what he’d learned.
“Hello?” his superior answered.
“It’s Hawke. The girl is safe. I’ve learned some things that I think need to be looked into. Do whatever you can to get information about what the Poulson woman did before she was relocated. I think she continued to do it here. And I think it has to do with National Security and transcribing Arabic.”
“Whoa! Where are you getting all of this? It sounds like terrorism.” Lt. Titus’s voice lowered on the last sentence.
“I think she was a refugee from an Arabic country who went to work helping the government root out terrorists. And I think after her trial and need to move, she started doing it on her own, or with the help of a few people from her past. Whoever killed the husband and wife were looking for something. Their house was torn apart. I think the killer believes Kitree has whatever he wants, but I can tell you, I went through the stuff she brought with her off the mountain and I didn’t find a thing.”
“Where are you going with this?” The man’s voice already held skepticism. That didn’t bode well for what he planned to say.
“I thought we could get together and make a plan.” He repeated what he’d already told his mom.
“Are you crazy? We can’t put that young girl’s life in jeopardy.”
“She is a part of this and could cause us trouble if we don’t use her. She doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. It will help ease some of her grief to help capture the person responsible for taking away her parents.”
“When will you be back here?” Titus asked.
“I was planning on coming back tomorrow. I’ll leave the girl where she’s safe until we have this all set up.” He hoped he could convince Kitree she was safe here and that he would come get her when the plan was ready to set in motion.
If she didn’t believe him, it was hard telling what the determined girl would try.