Betty Pierre - Murder.Com

"She went to McDonald's this morning, returned to the house after you guys left and hasn't left since."

"Anyone come to her place?" Tom asked.

"This is either the loneliest woman I've ever seen or else she doesn't want company. No one comes or goes from that household except her and those two little girls. In fact, those two kids don't even play outside, even though her back is fenced. I don't get it."

"Neither do I. She's a strange one. Just keep your eyes open. She may be laying low for awhile."

"Will do."

Tom pulled the Nevers and Conners files and sat down at his desk. His inner sense still nagged him. He knew there was still something he had overlooked. It had to be something right in front of his eyes, but what? It was eating away at him.

By the time Cliff returned, he'd reread both files. They exchanged their findings and agreed that from what Ken had told Tom, it was anyone's guess who got at the computers.

"I can tell your intuition is still bugging you," Cliff said, eyeing the files.

Tom nodded. "There's something right here in front of me, but I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it will pop up in my dreams tonight."

"It'll hit you in the middle of the night. Please wait until morning before you call me." Cliff yawned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yep. I'm ready for a good night's sleep myself."

"Let's call it a day. I'm dropping by Angie Nevers' place. She found something on the computer she wants me to see." The two men ambled down the hallway.

Cliff cocked his head and looked at Tom out of the corner of his eye. "Gettin' awful cozy with that woman. You got the hots for her?"

Tom cuffed him playfully on the shoulder. "Now what makes you say something like that? I'm the detective working on the case. Who else is she going to call?"

Cliff threw back his shoulders and stuck his thumb to his chest. "Why, me, of course. I'd love to have all those home-cooked meals."

Tom chuckled all the way to his car.

*****

Melinda paced her small apartment, smoking one cigarette after another. Her boyfriend, Tony, sat on the couch, his dirty bare feet resting on the coffee table. He took a big gulp of beer and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Ah, come on Melinda. What's eating you anyway?"

"Shut up, Tony. I've got to think."

"You've been neglecting my wants for several nights now. Come on baby, let's go to bed."

She flipped her head around and glared at him.

He put a hand up in defense. "Whoa, baby. Don't look at me like that. Those eyes of yours are mean."

"I'm worried about the future. Certainly more than you are."

He dropped his feet to the floor and went after her, grabbing her arm. "Hey, don't talk to me like that."

She yanked away from him and flinched. "That's my sore arm. Don't ever take hold of me like that again."

He let go, looking downcast. "Sorry, I forgot."

"You forget a lot of things. Like, getting a job? Where are we going to get the rent?"

"I'll get it." Then he looked at her, puzzled. "Thought you were going to have some money coming in?"

She let out a loud sigh. "Me too. Things aren't working out. Why don't you go to bed and let me think."

He tossed the empty beer bottle into the trash and disappeared into the bedroom. What a loser, she thought, closing the door so she wouldn't have to listen to his snores. I've got to get rid of him.

She sat down on the couch and dialed the phone in her lap. "Mom, don't hang up. I need to talk to you."

"I have nothing to say to you, Melinda. You're evil."

Melinda narrowed her eyes and bit her lip. "Look, I don't want to argue. All I want to know is, who is my father?"

"Why, so you can cause more people pain? Haven't you caused enough problems?"

"Mom, I'm coming out there."

"I won't let you in. You know what Mrs. Nevers said. She'll call the police. So I wouldn't try it."

"Then meet me somewhere. It's not fair for a girl not to know who her daddy is." Melinda's hand gripped into a fist. "And you know, don't you?"

"He's dead as far as you're concerned. Don't call me about this anymore."

Melinda heard the click and then the dial tone. She tossed the phone off her lap and onto the floor. "Damn her! She knows he's alive and well. She's lying to me again."

A muffled voice came from the bedroom. "Hey, hold it down in there."

She made a face, lifted her hand in the air, middle finger extended, and gestured toward the door.

Chapter Thirty-one

The weariness of work lifted as Tom looked forward to the evening. He waved at the officer as the Nevers' gate swung open. What had Angie found in the records? Or was it possible she just wanted to see him? God, how he wished.

He shook his head at his wishful thinking, put out his cigar in the ashtray and brushed the loose ashes from his jacket as he got out of the car. The cool evening energized him, so he took the steps two at a time and rang the doorbell. Angie smiled when she opened the door and immediately took him by the arm.

"Sandy could hardly wait for you to get here." She led him straight to the study. "I've already got the computer on and the file opened that we want you to see." She pushed him down in the chair in front of the monitor and pointed to an entry. Sandy stood behind him, wringing her hands.

Tom ran his finger across the monitor. "Company loan to Ken Weber, forty thousand dollars." A smile curled his lips. "I think you gals have just cleared Ken. We ran a check on his gambling and since this date, he hasn't acquired any more debts. Everything is falling together."

Sandy stared at the monitor, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Thank you, God," she whispered. Then she straightened. "Tom, can I call Ken?"

He turned and looked at a smiling Sandy, who'd just thrown a knitted dark-colored coverlet around her shoulders.

His shocked expression made her step back and frown. "Is something wrong?"

He jumped up. "No, no. Excuse me while I use the phone in the kitchen." Without waiting for Angie's permission, he dashed from the room, only to find Marty putting dinner together.

Damn, he thought, and hurried onto the front porch to make his call from the cell phone. When he finished, he returned inside. "Angie, I've got to leave."

"But what about dinner?" she asked, surprised.

"If I can get away in an hour, I'll be back. Otherwise, don't wait for me." He headed for the door, with Angie at his heels.

"Can Sandy call Ken and tell him what we've found?"

He stopped on the way down the porch steps. "Yeah, let her call him."

She watched him thoughtfully as he jumped in his car and sped over the crest.

On the way to the police station to meet Cliff, Tom called the surveillance man he had on Autumn Conners, who assured him that she had not left her home since this morning.

Cliff stood on the curb outside the police station and hopped into the car before Tom came to a complete stop. "What hunch hit you now?"

Tom sped away from the curb. "I told you something had been nagging me for days. Well, it hit me like a bolt of lightning when Sandy threw a shawl over her shoulders at Angie's house."

"I'm not following you."

"Do you recall that every time we go to the Conners' house, Autumn has that dark gray shawl over her shoulders?"

"Yeah."

"The fibers found under Ryan's fingernails were from a dark wool material?"

"True. But any lawyer could tear that apart. She's his wife."

"I know that's a risk, but what if Ryan's blood or bits of brain matter is found on that shawl?"

"Hey, now you're talking. Let's get over there before she decides to send the thing to the cleaners."

"Fat chance of that," Tom chuckled.

Cliff nodded, smirking. "You've got a point. Blood and guts wouldn't bother that woman." He shifted in his seat, turning toward Tom. "You know, I've been thinking about Bud's murder. No one saw Bud after the golf game. Do you think he had an appointment with Ryan over the books?"