I decided to go the the Lake House to try and get the finishing chapters of my next story done. Hawk is the title of my next book and it has been a struggle getting the time to write it. I decided to come back to the Lake House as it it the quietest, most beautiful place to relax I know.
I have not been disappointed. My computer is set up at the window that overlooks Munsel Lake and it has had an incredible effect on my ability to imagine the lives of my newest characters. I have completed ten new chapters and have added them to the 5 I already had. I think you all are really going to like this book as it is a mystery with a twist and a love interest.
I will post a chapter or two for you to read. Let me know how you like it.
Prayers,
Cindi
HAWK
Chapter 1
“Your honor....I object!”
“Over ruled Mr. Hawk; the witness will answer the question.” Turning to Mrs. Mills the Judge said “You may answer the question.”
Mrs. Mills was clearly upset and looked to Hawk for guidance. His reassuring nod told her it was o.k. to answer the question and turning to the assistant prosecutor she asked “I...uh...don't remember the question. Could you repeat it for me, please?”
The assistant prosecutor let out a long pronounced breath, stood and approached Mrs. Mills. “I asked at what time did you decide to check on your husband?”
“It, uh, was about 6:30...or maybe closer to 7...no, I think it was 6—” she stammered.
“—Well, which was it Mrs. Mills...6:30 or 7?”
“I don't remember! I don't remember! She cried as she covered her face with her hands.
Knowing he had her riled, he continued to badger her with questions hoping she would break.
“Is it that you don't remember, Mrs. Mills, or is it you never checked? You never checked because you knew exactly where he was all along. At the bottom of the ocean! Isn't that right, Mrs. Mills?”
Angered; Hawk stood and addressed the Judge again, “Your Honor...I strongly object to Mr. Spears badgering my client!”
“Sustained!” the Judge agreed and turning to the assistant prosecutor, he warned “Mr. Spears, I will not tolerate this type of questioning. There will not be any more theatrical performances in my courtroom. Is that understood?”
“Yes your Honor. I apologize to the court,” continuing in a very condescending tone he asked “Now, then...Mrs. Mills, why don't you just tell us in your own words just what did happened the night your husband, um, disappeared.”
Clearly loosing his patience, Hawk said, “Your Honor....I have to object again!”
“Yes, I figured you would Mr. Hawk,” The judge let out a heavy sigh, “On what grounds would you be objecting to this time?”
“On the grounds that Mr. Spears is coloring the opinion of the jury with his attitude!”
“Dare I ask?” he mumbled…then, “and just what is wrong with his attitude, Mr. Hawk?”
“It sucks, your Honor!” The courtroom exploded in laughter and lost all restraint.
Wham! Wham! Wham! “Order...Order...Order in the Court! The judge yelled as he pounded his gavel on the desk in front of him. The courtroom hushed immediately with everyone looking up at the large oak desk. Shaking his gavel toward Hawk he warned, “Mr. Hawk, I will hold you in contempt if I ever hear anything like that in my courtroom again! Don’t think for a minute that I won’t. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, perfectly, Your Honor,” and not being able to help himself, added “I will definitely refrain from telling the jury and this court what a bad attitude the assistant prosecutor possesses.”
Leaning forward with narrowing eyes and reddened face he warned again “You’re on very thin ice with me, Mr. Hawk. This will be your last warning, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Hawk answered with as much respect as he could muster and then asked, “at this time, Your Honor, I would like to ask the Court for a recess due to the time factor of Mrs. Mills' testimony.”
“Granted! Court will re-convene Monday morning at 9:00 a.m.”
With one last rap of his gavel on his desk, he stood, turned around and walked through the large oak door behind him.
Gathering the files on the case, Hawk opened the worn brown leather briefcase he carried, unzipped the side pocket, and slipped them in. People sometimes wondered why he carried such an old and tattered briefcase. It's not like he couldn't afford a new one, but when anyone asked about it he just said he liked this one and didn't see the need to change it. He picked up the briefcase, straightened the solid oak chair, turned and went through the swinging gate that separated the court from the onlookers. Heading for the double doors, he scanned the room looking for his investigator.
Sloane was supposed to bring him the information he dug up on the assistant prosecutor’s star witness. Without that information Mrs. Mills didn't stand a chance in hell of getting off. She was innocent; he knew it in his gut. He always knew when someone was innocent and refused to take on any case where the client was guilty, and if the client lied to him, well, he would drop him in a heartbeat. Hawk insisted on truth. Truth was very important to him in all aspects of his life. He could not and would not tolerate deception of any kind from anyone and since he was one of the top attorneys in the state, he didn't have to. He was always being told how rigid he was and how he should give the people a break sometimes. Hawk felt that truth was the sole of man, that it was his integrity. A man was born with integrity and whether or not he had it when he died depended on how he lived his life. He decided a long time ago that he would die with his integrity in tact and fully expected those he dealt with in his personal life and in business to treat him with the respect that he showed them.
So far it was working pretty well for him. Hawk was the top defense attorney in the State of Washington, lived in a nice building in the better part of town and although his car wasn't new it was a newer and very well maintained midsize S.U.V. with the new navigation system.
Hawk made his way out to the hall and headed for the elevator paying no attention to the young girl that got up and followed him out of the courtroom.
Catching up to him at the elevator she said “Mr. Hawk, my name is Cassandra...Cassandra White Eagle. My friends call me Cassie. May I speak with you a moment, Mr. Hawk? It's about my brother. He needs your help”
“Ms. White Eagle—”
“—Cassie, please” she interrupted.
“Cassie,” he corrected “I'm sorry, but I'm extremely busy right now and I need to get back to my office. Maybe you could give my secretary a call and set up an appointment for sometime next week.”
He pulled out a card and handing it to her just as the elevator door was opening. He stepped into the elevator and was gone before she could even tell him why her brother needed him.
Cassie took the card. What an arrogant jerk! Well, he’s not going to get away from me that easy. Jason needs his help and he’s going to give it to him whether he likes it or not! She looked at the address on the card. It was right down the street. She headed out of the courthouse and turned left at the sidewalk. Checking the address again she made her way to 301 Main Street.
Chapter 6
Standing at her door with a bottle of wine, Chinese take-out, and very little news on her brother, Hawk felt apprehensive as he waited for Cassie to open the door. What was he doing here? He had never crossed this line with a client and yet, he was unable to help himself with Cassie. He was drawn to her in a way he had never felt with a woman before. It puzzled him and yet, intrigued him. She was so beautiful, so perfect, that he wanted to know more about her, to learn who she was.
Cassie opened the door and all the anticipation Hawk felt vanished. Her smile eased the doubts he had and welcomed him inside.
“Hi, this smells wonderful,” Cassie said as she took the bags from Hawk.
Setting the bags on the coffee table and walking towards the kitchen she said, “You can grab a couple glasses from the bar while I get us some plates.”
Cassie returned with their plates and started opening the white containers with red writing. Hawk poured the wine and handed one to Cassie.
“I hope this is alright, I wasn’t sure what went with Chinese, but I like this wine and hoped you would too.”
“I prefer a blush to the others, so this is just perfect. Thank you, Hawk, for being so kind. Especially after the way I burst into your office today. I’m almost afraid to ask, have you heard anything about my brother?”
“Sloane called me just I left my office today. He spoke with a man that works in the jail. He thinks he saw the sheriff bring your brother in, but we can’t be certain. He is going to check tomorrow to see if the boy he saw is actually Jason.”
“If it is Jason that’s there, then what will we do? Will you go get him?”
“We need to be careful, Cassie, I think Jason got himself mixed up in something more than he intended to that day. Sloane is the best. He will get to the bottom of it and I will let you know as soon as we have something solid,” he promised.
The fire that Cassie set was warm and Hawk felt very comfortable there with her. They talked about many things and found they had a lot in common.
“You said you haven’t lived here very long; where did you moved from?” asked Hawk.
“San Francisco. My mother left the reservation with me when I was seven. She was an English missionary. That’s how my parents met. Things didn’t go as smoothly as they had hoped and they separated. She took me with her and left Jason with my dad. Apparently, they felt it was best for Jason to stay with my father on the reservation and that I needed to go to school in San Francisco.” Finishing the wine in her glass, she said without a smile, “My mother’s parents were very wealthy so I was sent to some of the best schools.” Hawk could see there was something she wasn’t saying, but didn’t push for more, instead he spoke of his parents.
“I was taken off the reservation as a child, also. My parents divorced and I went to live with my mother and her family in Connecticut. My mother was Norwegian,” Hawk stated. Pouring them each another glass of wine, he continued, “My father was Maska Black Hawk; the grandson of the Chief. He met my mother when she came to the reservation to teach, also.”
“Maska?”
“Yes, it means Strong. My father was a very large, but gentle man. He told me the day I left, that every man is born with integrity, whether or not he still has it upon his death, is entirely up to him. Then he gave me his old briefcase. He said that man was a lot like the briefcase, no matter how worn and tattered he may be on the outside, it is his integrity, his sole, that holds him together and keeps him strong. I’ve never forgotten that and I try to apply it to all aspects of my life,” stated Hawk.
“Are your parents still alive?” Cassie asked.
“No, my father passed on a year after we left. I think he knew he was sick and wanted to make sure we were with my grandparents. My mother died in my last year of law school. Her name was Karita. It meant charity. She was a very kind, bright, and beautiful woman. She never remarried. I don’t think she ever got over my father.”
“And you? Tell me about Hawk,” she prodded.
Hawk smiled, “I think it’s getting late and we will have to save this conversation for another time.” Standing he walked to the door and turned to Cassie.
“I’ve enjoyed this evening, Hawk, very much. I really needed to get my mind off of Jason for a while. Thank you.” Cassie moved closer to Hawk and gave his arm a squeeze. Looking up into his eyes, she tip toed and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“I enjoyed this time too, Cassie. I will call you with any news as soon as I hear from Sloane.” Cassie slowly closed the door behind him and Hawk felt lonely for the first time in quite a while.
Leaving her building, he walked across the street to his own. Checking his messages, there was nothing from Sloane, but the Senior Prosecutor, Frank Wilson left a message that he wanted to talk to him as soon as he got in tonight.
Dialing the phone number that Frank left for him, Hawk wondered what he wanted. He let the phone go to voicemail as there was no answer. He left a message for Frank letting him know that he was home and could be reached for the next half hour and then hung up.
He sat in the brown leather recliner that faced the building across the street and wondered what Cassie was doing at that very moment. Was she thinking of him, too? The last time he felt this queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach, Sally Miller had just kissed him in the movie theater.
He was twelve.
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