The Archer [Book 13 of the Hawkman Series]

The Archer [Book 13 of the Hawkman Series] by Betty Sullivan La Pierre Page A

Book: The Archer [Book 13 of the Hawkman Series] by Betty Sullivan La Pierre Read Free Book Online
Authors: Betty Sullivan La Pierre
doing this?"
    "Right now. I have the tracker charged to the hilt. So it should last four or five days, since Laura isn't driving all the time. It has a sensor on it which puts it in a sleep mode when there's no car motion. It saves the battery life while she's at school, and her vehicle is parked."
    "What happens when the battery gets low?” Laura asked.
    "It will give me a signal, and I'll contact you. I'll leave the charger, and all you have to do is remove it, plug it in at night and by morning it will be ready to put back on the car. However, when you take off the tracker, make sure no one else is around. We don't know who the harasser is, so we don't want him to see you placing this on your vehicle."
    Laura stood and picked up the small instrument, studying it as she turned it over in her hands. “This is quite a piece of technology."
    "Yes, it is. I'm hoping we don't have to rely on it, but it's a good safety factor."
    "It will definitely make me feel better,” she said, handing it to Hawkman. “Let's go attach it."
    The whole family joined in the walk through the kitchen and out the back door. Laura's Toyota was parked close to the back of the house, which made it easier for Hawkman to install the tracker under the front fender. He had Laura feel where he'd put it. “Try to get it off and you'll see it's very tight and solid."
    "Oh, gee, I might not be able to do this trick,” she said, groaning as she tried to pull it off.
    "If you have trouble, let your dad do it.” He motioned for Olly.
    The farmer got down on his haunches, and with his big, strong hands had no trouble prying off the black box. He grinned up at his daughter. “I can get this thing off for you, no problem. You just let me know.” Glancing at Hawkman, he said. “You want me to put it back?"
    "Yes, please."
    Violet stood rubbing her arms. “I'm going back inside. It's nippy out here."
    They all followed her into the kitchen.
    "How about a cup of coffee, everyone? she said. “Oh, and how about a slice of pie with it?"
    "Sounds good to me,” Olly said."
    They pulled out the chairs around the kitchen table and sat down. Violet served each a piece of peach pie.
    "Margy's pies are delicious. She cans peaches all summer and has an ample supply in her cellar. We're lucky to be one of the families she shares with."
    Hawkman took a bite, and looked up at the ceiling. “Man, I think I've gone to heaven, this is delicious. Please tell Mrs. Higgins for me."
    Violet laughed. “I sure will."
    He turned to Laura between savoring the next bite. “Are you going to be driving tomorrow?"
    "Yes, Mom and I have some shopping to do."
    "Good. It will give me the opportunity to check out the GPS and make sure it's working right. Could you give me a call before you leave?"
    "Sure.” She glanced at her mother. “Don't let me forget."
    "I won't."
    "Also, any calls from this guy, save them like you did the last one."
    Laura frowned. “Don't worry, I will."
    They chit-chatted for a few more minutes, then Hawkman rose. “I must get on my way. Thank you for your hospitality.” He pointed at Laura. “Give me a call before you leave the house."
    She nodded.
    [Back to Table of Contents]

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    When Hawkman pulled up to the Rileys’ house, a German shepherd barreled around the side, barking and snarling. He hesitated about getting out of the vehicle, as this dog meant business. Soon a man opened the front door.
    "Princess, stop that right now."
    The dog skulked back around the house, and Hawkman climbed out of the SUV.
    "Sorry about her. She's very protective."
    "No apology needed,” Hawkman said. “I'm assuming you're Bob Riley?"
    "Sure am."
    Hawkman held out his hand. “I'm Tom Casey, private investigator."
    "Oh, yeah, John Higgins told me about you. Come on in."
    They entered the front door and stepped into a sparsely furnished living room. Second hand furniture surrounded a large throw rug in the middle, where two small children about the ages of

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