Betty Pierre - Murder.Com

Cliff drummed his fingers on the desk. "We're going to leave you alone for a while longer. How much time do you need?"

Graves checked his watch. "Shouldn't take more than three or four hours. I'll let you guys know if there are any problems when you check back with me. If it's going to take longer, I'll get back here first thing in the morning to finish up."

Tom nodded. "Sounds good. We'll see you later."

The two detectives closed the door behind them.

Chapter Thirteen

Angie spent the rest of the afternoon trying to forget the encounter at Dr. Parker's office. She stopped at the beauty parlor, had her hair done and got a manicure. Afterwards she shopped for clothes that wouldn't remind her of Bud every time she dressed in the morning. The hours passed rapidly and she headed home around five pm.

She was turning up the street leading to the gate when an older-model white Toyota Celica raced past her, kicking up dust from the side of the road. Angie jerked her head around in time to catch another glimpse before the car swerved around the corner. She pulled at her lower lip with her teeth. She'd have sworn that was the car Melinda drove away from Dr. Parker's office. Why would she be in this area?

Angie glanced at the gate before pushing her remote control. It appeared tightly closed. Now, don't go getting all paranoid, she scolded herself. Continuing up the driveway, she parked in the garage and carried her bundles inside. Expecting to see Marty in the kitchen, she called her name, but received no answer. That's odd. She would normally be in here fixing dinner. Concerned over Marty's health, she decided to walk over, instead of calling her on the phone.

When she reached the cottage, she knocked softly on the slightly opened door. Hearing muffled sobs, she shoved the door open. "Marty!" she gasped.

Marty was curled in a fetal position on the floor, blood pouring from her nose. Angie raced to her and knelt by her side. "Dear God! What happened?"

"I-I don't know, Mrs. Nevers. I must have blacked out from too much booze and hit my head. It hurts something awful."

"Don't move." She reached for the phone. "I'm calling an ambulance."

But before she could dial, Marty raised herself up and waved a bloody hand. "No! No! Please don't call. I'll be fine, just banged my nose good. I'll be okay." She staggered to her feet and headed for the bathroom.

Angie hung up, but remained frozen to the spot. A small white envelope tucked partially under the telephone grabbed her attention. She immediately recognized the handwriting and picked it up. Turning slowly, she found Marty staring at her from the doorway of the bathroom, her eyes wide over the washcloth covering her nose.

"Why do you have a letter here addressed to Bud?" Angie asked, holding up the envelope.

Marty slumped against the doorframe, sobs shaking her body.

By this time, Angie had slipped the folded sheet out of the envelope and read aloud. "If the payments stop, you'll be sorry. So you better contact me soon. Melinda."

Angie felt that familiar spine-tingling sensation. Her hands trembled as she fumbled for a chair. She pushed back the stray hair that had fallen into her face, then slowly raised her eyes as pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "You're Melinda's mother, aren't you?"

Marty nodded and choked out, "Yes."

Angie rose and walked out of the cottage in a daze. When she reached the house, she stormed up the stairs to her bedroom and yanked all the pictures of Bud off the wall and hurled them into the wastebasket. "You son-of-a-bitch!" she cried. "Right under my nose you screwed our housekeeper. You knew I wanted a baby so bad. You bastard! No wonder you didn't want to adopt. You already had a beautiful daughter."

She flung herself across the bed and wept. After her tears were spent, she retrieved the pictures from the trash and piled them on the dresser. "Didn't you know I'd have given anything for a baby?" she whispered. "I wouldn't have cared where it came from. And to think this child has your blood."

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at their wedding picture. When did this affair with Marty start, and how long did it last? She reviewed the years, trying to remember any secret glances or smiles she might have observed between the two. But would she have noticed? She trusted them both implicitly, never dreaming anything would go on between them.

Angie recalled how her parents had hired Marty's mom and dad years ago. The two girls had grown up together. Marty seemed the natural choice for a nanny for her and Bud's children. Of course, it never happened. But Marty worked hard and proved herself to be a good housekeeper and manager of the household affairs.

Even as a child, Marty had been a natural beauty. Thin, smooth olive skin and a well-shaped figure. In her teens she'd been pretty wild, but once through those difficult years, she settled down. Her good looks still attracted men and she seldom went without a suitor. However, she had a problem with drinking. Even though it didn't seem to interfere with her duties, men shied away from her once they found out.

Angie let out a long sigh, went into the bathroom, freshened her face and brushed her hair. She couldn't retreat into her room like a teenage girl. These things had to be faced head-on. Her biggest decision was whether to keep Marty in her employment. She paced the room. Making a snap judgment wouldn't be fair after their long friendship. She made the decision to talk it out with Marty. Lay all the pieces on the table; then she'd know best what to do.

When she went downstairs it surprised her to find Marty puttering in the kitchen. This would be a good time to talk or the problem would fester like an ugly sore.

Marty glanced at her, then cast her eyes downward. "I want to prepare your favorite dinner of fried chicken before I leave."

Her nose had taken on a strange swollen appearance. Both eyes had dark circles beneath them. No doubt, by morning she'd have two big shiners.

Angie sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen bar. "You've decided to leave?"

"I know that you don't want me here anymore. I've saved up a little money, so I'll be fine until I can find another job."

"I haven't decided anything yet. I want us to talk first."

Marty stood at the sink with her back to Angie. "It happened a long time ago and I'm so ashamed. I've brooded all these years about the day you'd find out."

"Were you and Bud lovers?"

Marty jerked her head around, her blackened eyes wide as if in shock. "Oh, no, Mrs. Nevers, it just happened one night when you, Mr. Nevers and Mr. Weber were all in the study. Not long after you lost the baby and before Mr. Weber met Sandy. You were taking some strong drugs and couldn't drink, so you went to bed. You were barely coping then, the worst time of your depression."

Angie dropped her head in her hands, remembering the many nights when she'd left Bud and their guests alone. She'd felt bad about it at the time, but it didn't stop her from leaving. "Go on."

"This particular night, Mr. Nevers and Mr. Weber were celebrating a really big contract. They had the music loud and were tipping that champagne bottle like crazy. When you left, Mr. Weber came into the kitchen and danced me around the kitchen floor. He said, 'Marty come in here and join us in this celebration.' I told him no, but Mr. Nevers yelled, 'Yeah, get in here and share this champagne with us.' They were both already pretty tipsy and Mr. Weber flirted with me a lot."

Marty stopped talking for a moment, floured the chicken and put it in the frying pan.

Angie watched her wipe the tears away with the corner of her apron. "So what happened?"

"Please remember this happened over twenty years ago. I thought myself quite a good looker. I knew men noticed me. But I realize now how stupid I behaved. I'm so ashamed when I look back and realize how I teased those men."