Flopping down on the couch, she stared at the ceiling. "I'm so damned gullible. You could have been doing all kinds of things and I'd never have been the wiser."
*****
The two detectives left the Nevers Computer complex and met at their favorite beer and pizza place. They sat in their usual booth, isolated in the far corner of the room, where they could discuss the case in private.
Cliff, still agitated over Ken Weber's behavior, ranted for close to thirty minutes before Tom finally raised his hand. "Okay. I understand we've got a man who doesn't cooperate, but that doesn't mean he's guilty. So far, we can't point a finger at anyone. We haven't got one real suspect."
"It's bound to be an inside job." Cliff said, slamming his hand down on the table. "That company is too damn clean. There's something fishy about it."
Tom pulled off a huge piece of pizza, dragging a long string of cheese behind it. "We'll find it. Don't get impatient."
Cliff yanked off a piece loaded with mozzarella cheese, then dropped it on the table. "Son-of-a-bitch, that's hot." He sucked on his finger for a moment. "We've gone through most of that place. No drugs, nothing. The place is just too clean."
His mouth full of food, Tom garbled. "Looks like they run a tight ship."
Cliff rolled a bite of the hot food around in his mouth, then chased it with a gulp of beer. "I'm going to start processing search warrants. I'll start with Ken Weber's home and work down the ladder. Including Bud's place."
Tom held up his hand. "I think Angie will let me search her house without one." He shrugged. "But, I don't think we'll find anything there. Of course, it won't hurt to look around."
The two men finished their food and went their separate ways.
Tom pulled into his garage, shed his dirty clothes and tossed them on the washer. He trudged into the house in his underwear and headed for the bathroom. After a warm shower, he flopped across the bed with just a towel wrapped around his waist. The next thing he remembered, he was sitting straight up in bed as the digital clock flipped over to four AM.
He jumped up and grabbed his notebook from his jacket pocket. That young intern Bud hired. He just might be the key after all. He flipped through the pages and glanced at the clock. It would be seven back east. Better wait an hour or more before calling. He went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then paced the floor.
If the kid had discovered something and told Bud about it, Bud could have turned around and approached the accountant or Ken Weber. Would one of these men have gotten scared enough to murder Bud? With Cliff's constant haggling over how clean that company seemed, it all began to slowly take form in Tom's mind. Is the company keeping dummy books? If that's the case, where are the real ones?
He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. He drummed his fingers thoughtfully. Those locked files on Bud's computer; could they possibly hold the key? If Ken happens to be guilty, he'd have access to Bud's office. He could have corrupted the files. Damn, let's hope we get to them before someone else does.
Tomorrow, after the visit from the computer whiz, he'd know. Excitement whirled in Tom's gut. He felt that for the first time on this case he was finally on the right track. Now, find the culprit and hang him by his toes. He picked up the phone and called Cliff, rattling off his ideas.
Suddenly, Cliff came awake. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"It hit me this morning. The kid that Bud hired during the summer. He's our key. I'm going to call him this morning."
"Well, why in hell's name didn't you wait until you did before you woke me? See you in the office in a few hours."
The phone went dead.
*****
When the fire alarm upstairs sounded, Angie dashed down the stairs. Smoke poured from the kitchen and circled above her head. Coughing, she spotted the source immediately and hurried to the toaster oven, pulled the plug, grabbed the two charcoaled pieces of bread with a hot mitt and tossed them into the disposal. After turning on the ceiling fan, she opened the doors and windows, then walked the kitchen floor, waving a tea towel in the air. The smoky odor finally cleared and fresh air filled the room.
Marty dashed in the back door and headed straight for the toaster. When she saw what had happened, she whirled around and faced Angie. "Oh, Mrs. Nevers, how terrible of me. I completely forgot I'd put on the toast and ran over to the cottage for a second." She covered her face with her hands.
Angie put her hands on her hips. "Marty, you could have burned the house down with me in it."
Marty ducked her head and turned away, as she pulled out two more pieces of bread from the loaf and placed them into the toaster. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
Angie shut the door and closed the windows, then sat down at the table in the breakfast nook. She glanced through the newspaper until Marty brought in her meal, then decided enough had been said about the near disaster and changed the subject. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"Much better. I slept most of yesterday and through the night. I guess I really needed that extra rest."
"I'm glad to hear it." She glanced up at Marty. "You look much better." However, Angie saw the hollow look in her eyes. "Marty, is something bothering you? You haven't been yourself lately."
"Don't you worry about me. You've got enough to think about. I'm fine."
Knowing the woman's stubborn nature, Angie figured no amount of prodding would reveal what was on her mind unless she wanted to tell you. She turned her attention back to her breakfast. "I'm going into town and won't be home for lunch. But plan on dinner unless I call."
Marty nodded and disappeared from the kitchen to perform her other duties.
Angle left the house at ten, dropped off the legal papers at the lawyers, then walked into Doctor Parker's office at ten forty-five. Melinda had not yet arrived. The doctor poked his head out of his private office door and motioned for her to come inside.
"I don't want to be nosy, but what's this all about?" He adjusted his glasses. "You say this young woman, Melinda Smith, claims to be Bud's daughter?" He looked over the top of the half-rims. "Is she blackmailing you?"
Angie sat back in her chair and exhaled. "Well, she's trying, but it isn't going to work. Regardless of whether she's Bud's daughter or not, the woman is twenty-three years old with a college degree. I'm going to take this a step at a time. First, I need to find out if she's telling the truth. If so, I'll handle it the best way I see fit."
Parker took off his glasses and chewed on one of the ear pieces as he studied Angie. "The DNA test results take about two weeks. Are you prepared to wait that long?"
She nodded. "Yes." Then she checked her watch and raised a brow. "Of course, if she doesn't show, I'll know my answer much sooner."
But, at that moment, the receptionist buzzed the office. "Melinda Smith is waiting."
Doctor Parker and Angie exchanged glances and stepped from the office. Angie met Melinda's stare. And for a split-second, Angie thought she detected a tinge of fear in those devastating eyes.