*****
Tom leaped out of bed, sang loudly in the shower, then dressed. He'd slept like a log except for those dreams about Angie that haunted him night after night. He felt guilty about his growing feelings about her, which surfaced not long after Sara's death. But, he'd accepted the fact that he'd never be able to have Angie. Then Bud's death opened a gateway he'd never expected. It would take time for her to get over her loss but he had plenty of that. On the other hand, she might never accept him. That's the chance he'd take.
He'd given up on trying to beat Cliff to work. It didn't matter how early he arrived, Cliff always got there first. Tom chuckled when he drove into the station parking lot and spotted the detective walking toward the building. Today, he wore a baseball cap. His hair protruded from the back hole like the soft down of a baby bird's first feathers. Tom beeped the horn. Maxhimer glanced up and gave a wave for him to get a move on it. The cool morning air put an invigorating pace to the men's steps as they charged inside.
Cliff took off his jacket and hung it over his arm. "You're gonna get right on that phone, aren't you?"
Tom grinned. "You know me pretty well."
"Yeah. When you work with someone for close to fifteen years, you get a feel."
Tom made himself comfortable at his desk and started making calls to Bud's unhappy clients. Cliff disappeared down the hall to his office. But it wasn't fifteen minutes before his right hand man came charging back through the door, fuming with anger.
"Have you got Weber's home phone number?"
Tom pulled his little black notebook from his breast pocket. "Yeah. What's the problem?"
"Just got a call from one of the officers at the Nevers building. Ken Weber has his goddamn filing cabinet padlocked."
Tom shook his head and recited the number as Cliff yanked the phone toward him.
"Ken Weber," he said sharply. While waiting, he tapped his fingers against the desk top. "Weber, Detective Maxhimer here. I need you to get your ass down here and unlock your goddamn filing cabinet or I'm having a crew take it apart." He slammed the receiver down with a disgusted growl. "For someone who wanted this procedure to hurry along, he's the one costing us time." Snatching off his ball cap, he shoved loose strands of hair behind his ears, then plunked the hat back on. "Come on, let's get over there and see what's happening."
A few minutes after the detectives arrived at the Nevers building, Ken Weber stormed into his office, eyes aflame. "There's no reason for you to rummage through my files," he stormed. "They only contain personal information about my clients."
Cliff narrowed his steel-gray eyes. "Mr. Weber, not only are we going to go through your files, but we're going to go into your computer. In fact, we're going into every computer in this building. The president of this company has been murdered. Do you understand this is a murder investigation? We're not leaving one piece of paper unturned. And if I have to search your home, I'll do that too. And furthermore, if you keep interfering, I'll close this damn building tighter than a jug. Now get that file cabinet open so my people can get at it."
Tom turned his back on the two men to hide his grin. Cliff never ceased to amaze him. And the astonished looks from people who didn't think the guy was tough always amused Tom.
After Ken unlocked the padlock, he turned on his heel and left the office. His angry steps echoed down the hallway and across the tiled reception area as he slammed out the front door. Tom wondered why Ken was so uncooperative. Of course, the man had more to gain from Bud's death than anyone else in the company.
Tom had carried the list of clients with him, so he decided to finish contacting them from Bud's office. Once satisfied that none of them appeared suspect, he turned on the computer and opened Bud's calendar. He found the most interesting entry to be an appointment with the audit company for the following Tuesday.
He gave them a call and discovered Ken Weber had canceled due to Bud's death. Tom jotted himself a note to talk to Ken about why Bud might have scheduled an audit at this time of year.
Tom leaned back in the chair and thoughtfully stared out the window. The police had confiscated what financial records they could find from the accountant, Ryan Conners. Mr. Conners informed them that a computer blitz had wiped out all the records and they were working to get everything restored. When asked about the backup disk, Mr. Conners couldn't find it. That puzzled Tom. Mr. Conners also explained why Mr. Nevers' and Mr. Weber's computers had not been affected. Each had their own circuits and the company had a separate line. They thought it would be a better protection policy. Tom agreed.
Cliff charged into the room, his hair stuck out in fluffs over his ears, and he had a dirt smudge on the end of his nose. He reminded Tom of a mischievous pup. Cliff banged a fist on the desk.
"This is the damnedest thing I've ever seen. There's something screwy going on here. This place is too perfect. Makes my hair stand on edge."
Tom stifled a laugh. That's exactly how Cliff appeared.
Cliff pulled himself up straight and took a deep breath. "Find anything on Nevers' computer?"
Tom shook his head. "Not yet. My computer buff canceled out today. He'll be here first thing in the morning."
"Who's their audit company?"
Tom fumbled in his pocket for his notebook. "Hames & Goode."
"Let's get down there and have a talk with them. I have a gut feeling we're going to have to move fast. Someone's a step ahead of us and I don't like it."
Tom grabbed his jacket and the two men left.
*****
Angie decided to leave the house at six thirty, which would allow plenty of time in case of heavy traffic and for her to find the right pay phone. Not wanting Melinda to spot her right off, she decided on a pair of designer jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. Thinking her hair might give her away, she tied a scarf around her head, then slipped on a pair of sunglasses. She examined her appearance in the mirror and decided that would do it.
She arrived at the mall at seven fifteen with butterflies of dread filling her stomach. Lifting her shoulders, she strolled the wide walkway. She glanced from shop to shop trying to recall the tinkling noises she'd heard in the background when the man answered the mall phone. Suddenly, her ear caught the sound of chimes. Yes, that's it, she thought. Music boxes. Her step quickened.
She stood in front of the store and noticed three pay phones on the wall directly across the hall. The number etched in her brain, she hurried toward them. After examining the first two, she breathed a sigh of relief to find that the last phone's number matched.
Now, she had twenty minutes to kill. Wanting to be out of sight when Melinda appeared, she entered the coffee shop next to the music store and picked a small table in the middle of the room. It afforded a good view of the walkway and the phones. She ordered a cup of black coffee and sat down to wait.
A teenager in short shorts and a long-tailed shirt tied around her waist, revealing her belly button ring, caught Angie's attention as she hurried toward the stack of phones. She went straight to the end phone, picked up the receiver and deposited her coins.
Angie wondered what Melinda's reaction would be when she discovered someone using that specific phone. She didn't have to wait long. Melinda materialized out of nowhere. Her long blond hair flowed down her back to her waist, her green eyes scrutinizing the area. Angie felt herself shrink into the chair, but Melinda's gaze moved past her. Instead, Melinda turned to the girl on the phone and motioned for her to go to one of the others. A defiant hand flew to the girl's hip as she turned her back on Melinda. She made no motion to move. Melinda paced in front of the phone for a few seconds before she reached into her purse and flashed a ten dollar bill. The girl immediately snatched the money, hung up and stormed toward the opposite end of the mall.