Betty Pierre - Murder.Com

Leaning back in the chair, she stared at the monitor. It made her angry that she hadn't asked questions about their finances, if for no other reason than for her own private knowledge. She banged her fists on the table beside the computer. "How stupid of me," she said aloud. "I should have been more involved in Bud's life and learned more about the business."

She had no one to blame but herself for all those years of being so dependent on her husband. She dropped her hands to her side. "Too late now," she sighed. Picking up her cold cup of coffee, she headed for the kitchen where she warmed it in the microwave before heading upstairs to get ready for the barbecue.

Later that afternoon, Angie and Sandy sat under the shade of the large oak tree that shaded the Weber's back yard. Ken stood at the grill basting the two chickens he had on the spit, the fire sizzling with drippings. The aroma curled around the women.

Angie sniffed. "Oh, that smells so delicious. It's been a long time since I've had grilled chicken."

"It's good to have you here," Sandy said. "How are things going?"

"I've had a few setbacks. But so far I've managed."

Sandy raised a questioning brow. "For instance?"

"Tom feels someone has been tampering with the company's books. He hasn't said it outright, but I think he believes there's a connection between that and Bud's murder. I found an unmarked CD in our home safe. It turned out to be a copy of the original books, which listed the dummy company Bill Crane mentioned." Angie's voice caught. "It's hard to believe someone at work murdered Bud."

Ken had been staring at Angie as she spoke. "Why haven't I been told about this latest discovery?"

She shrugged. "I'm sure someone will advise you. We just found it late yesterday afternoon. Tom's going to have an auditor check it out."

Ken immediately excused himself, saying he'd just remembered a phone call he needed to make. After a few minutes, he returned with a somber face and resumed his grilling.

Sandy picked up her drink and scooted to the edge of her lounge so she faced Angie. "You said setbacks. What other things have happened?"

Angie took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "I'm being blackmailed."

"What!"

"Remember the woman I asked you about, Melinda? Well, she's claiming to be Bud's illegitimate daughter and wants the child payments he supposedly has been making to continue."

Sandy shot a look at her husband.

Angie noticed the exchange of glances and frowned. "So you did know about Melinda?"

Lowering her eyes, Sandy nodded. "Ken told me the night you asked us about her."

Angie stared at Ken. "And how long have you known?"

Ken turned his attention back to the grill. "From the day it happened. Bud swore me to secrecy."

"And you know that Marty is her mother?"

Ken grimaced and nodded without speaking.

Angie felt like her heart had been squeezed by this betrayal. She glanced from one to the other. "Why didn't you tell me after Bud's death? At least I could have prepared for the encounter."

Without looking at her, Ken spoke in a low voice. "I never thought the girl would have the guts to approach you."

She rolled her cocktail glass between her hands. "Dr. Parker is doing a DNA test. But it's probably a waste of time since you two knew about it and Marty has told me everything. Obviously, Melinda is Bud's daughter."

Sandy furrowed her brows. "Angie, how can she blackmail you? The girl is past eighteen years of age. And everything's out in the open now."

"She swears she's been robbed of her childhood, plus she wants to buy Marty her own house." Angie stood and paced. "I really haven't decided what to do. She threatened to ruin my life. This girl is not a sweet person, but she is Bud's daughter. So, I'm really torn over this whole mess."

"What does Marty think?" Sandy asked.

"She's made herself ill worrying about it. She doesn't want to leave me or her cottage and believes Melinda is evil."

Without a word, Ken put the cooked chicken on the picnic table and disappeared into the house. Sandy frowned, then followed him inside, leaving Angie alone in the middle of the yard. Sensing an uncomfortable moment between the two, Angie decided everyone's emotions were on overload. Her appetite had left, so she picked up her purse and went out the side gate to her car.

She felt uptight and stressed as she drove home. Maybe she'd talked too much about her problems. It did bother her greatly that Ken had harbored the secret of Melinda all these years, not even confiding in Sandy. That seemed odd, but what didn't seem strange anymore? Her whole life had taken on a different perspective. Look how much Bud had hidden from her.

When she pulled into the garage, she noticed that Marty's car was gone. She hoped she hadn't decided to visit Melinda. Angie could prevent the girl from coming onto the premises, but she couldn't prevent Marty from seeing her own daughter.

Just as she stepped inside the house, the phone rang. She dropped her purse on the kitchen counter. "Hello."

"Angie, this is Sandy. Why did you leave?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought up Melinda."

"We upset you, didn't we?"

"It shocked me to learn you knew. It makes me wonder how many other people are privileged with the same information."

"We feel terrible about the whole thing. Ken has never told anyone in all these years and I certainly wouldn't have. We just prayed the girl would never enter your life. Can you forgive us?"

Angie stared at the ceiling, biting her lower lip. "Don't worry about it."

"Since this afternoon fell through like a bomb, I insist on taking you out to lunch next week."

"Okay. We'll talk about it later."

*****

Early Monday morning, Tom and Cliff met John Graves in his office at the Hames & Goode Company. The three men sat around Graves' desk as he studied the printed files from Bud's CD. Graves ran his hand over his face. "Well, gentlemen. I think not only do you have a good case for embezzlement, but a motive for murder."

Cliff took off his cap and slapped it against his thigh. "Just as I thought. That company smelled too sweet."

The two detectives left the office and headed for the Nevers complex. Cliff couldn't stand Tom's silence and blurted. "Okay, what's on your mind? You're too quiet."

"Ryan Conners. I can't picture him as the mastermind. He has no guts. When we questioned him in Bud's office last week, he almost fell apart. And how did he manage to get access to Bud's computer? It doesn't add up."

Cliff shoved loose strands of hair back up into his cap. "I'm surprised you're letting his appearance fool you. We've dealt with such men before and they turned out to be the masterminds of big shams. I agree this one has a more nervous disposition. Maybe it's his first time attempting such a scheme. Just reading him his rights might crack him."

They pulled into the parking lot at eight thirty, just as people began arriving for work. Tom glanced around before getting out. "Keep a wary eye."

Cliff gave him a concerned look, knowing Tom's inner sense must have kicked in. He adjusted his jacket and positioned his gun for easy access. Tom unbuttoned his coat, letting the sides flap open, exposing his shoulder holster.

An odd sensation hit Cliff as they entered the building. He kept his hands loose at his sides. Just as they approached the receptionist's desk, a piercing scream reverberated down the hall.

Both detectives drew their guns and raced toward the sound. A young woman stood in the hallway, sobbing hysterically, one hand over her mouth, the other pointing toward an opened door leading into an office.

Tom quickly put an arm around her trembling shoulders. "What is it?"

Again, she pointed toward the office. "In there," she cried. "It's Mr. Conners. Blood everywhere." One of the onlooking co-workers grabbed her as she sank to her knees. Tom and Cliff moved to the doorway.