Page 54 of Rawhide and Ransom

Brutally thrown

Mocking laughter

Previous demonstrations of violence

Shocking use of force

Herculean-like strength

Vicious disregard for authority

Annalee’s breath came out in a huff of indignation. “That’s a lot of adult-sized vitriol to take out on a three-year-old.”

Hawk agreed. It certainly painted Mirabelle’s subsequent confinement in a mental ward in a very different light. It was starting to sound like she was more of a victim than a predator.

He caught Tucker’s eye. “I’m not gonna ask how you got your hands on this information.”

“Oh, please do,” Tucker begged. “For once, I didn’t have to hack my way into anything.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.” Hawk’s only interest was unraveling the mysteries that continued to shroud Annalee and Mirabelle’s tragic childhood. “How’d you do it?”

“Publicly available court records.” Tucker smirked. “Now ask me who wrote the report.”

“I’d be glad to. Who wrote the report, Tuck?” Hawk had already scrolled up and down the document several times, but he hadn’t located any signatures.

“Another great question! You’re full of them today.” Tucker sprang into motion.

Hawk snorted. “You’re full of it every day.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Tucker typed one handed on the electronic tablet Hawk was still holding. “Fair warning. This is where my investigation gets really interesting.”

He pulled up a photograph. “Meet Priscilla Hardy, Rosamund Dakota’s ex-sister-in-law.”

Hawk studied the side profile of the pouting Barbie doll of a woman in the photo. “Is this a mug shot?”

“Yep! From over thirty years ago, when she got pulled over for her first DUI. An anonymous donor posted her bail, and she got out of serving jail time by agreeing to perform some community service hours. Before we move on to the next photo, please note that the date of the mug shot is exactly two days prior to the vicious child assault incident that was reported to the police by Stepping Stones Preschool.”

Hawk nodded. “Duly noted.”

Tucker pulled up another photograph. “This is what Priscilla looks like now. Two more DUIs later, I might add, for which she’s yet to serve any jail time.”

It was clear to Hawk that the haggard-looking woman staring back at him was an addict. There were bags under her eyes, and she was missing several teeth. “Meaning Priscilla Hardy is an alcoholic in addition to being tight with Rosamund Dakota?”

“Yep.”

“And this is significant because?”

“Man, you’re full of good questions today!” Tucker swung his backpack off his shoulder, unzipped it, and pulled out a handful of papers. They looked old and were encased in plastic sheet protectors. “This, my friends, is the original incident report about Edward’s injury. The one that never made it to court.”

Unlike the typed documents they’d been looking at up to this point, the report encased in plastic sheets was handwritten. It was also much shorter, less eloquent, and it was written in the spidery handwriting of someone who was either elderly or possessed some sort of reduced physical capacity.

Or was drunk!

Hawk’s gaze landed on the signature of the preschool worker who’d written the report. It was none other than Priscilla Hardy.

“Unbelievable,” Annalee breathed shakily. “So, it was the testimony of an alcoholic that got my sister locked up.”

“Not quite.” Tucker ran a finger underneath the spidery words as he read them aloud. “I only turned my back on them for a minute or two. It was nearly an hour past my break time, and I had to use the restroom. When I returned to the playground, everyone was screaming, and Edward Hardy was on the ground. He wasn’t moving. A tricycle was on its side next to him…”

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