*****
Angie lay in bed that night, thinking about Tom. Such a wonderful and kind friend, so thoughtful. Never wearing out his welcome and genuinely interested in her well-being. Bud had always regarded Tom highly and now she could see why. Not only was he a good, down-to-earth cop, but a wholesome person as well. With those pleasant reflections, she drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Angie found herself looking forward to Tom's visit. In preparation, she searched through Bud's office for any extra disks or CDs that he might have stuffed into the desk drawers. She found several and added them to the ones they hadn't gone through. Something nagged at the back of mind, but not being able to put her finger on it, she brushed it aside.
Angie headed for the study to check the wet bar supplies, but stopped at the kitchen door and observed Marty preparing their dinner. The strained relationship between the two women had relaxed somewhat, but she knew their friendship could never be the same. However, Angie didn't want to lose Marty and hoped that they could eventually resolve most of the problems.
Marty must have felt her presence, and turned. Smiling, she removed a pan from the cabinet. "I like Detective Hoffman; he's a nice man. I enjoy fixing a dinner for someone who's so appreciative."
Angie strolled into the kitchen. "Yes, he's very nice and considerate. And not having a wife, he enjoys a good home-cooked meal."
Marty leaned against the cabinet, twisting the pan in her hand. "I don't mean to bring up unhappy memories, but has he made any progress in finding Bud's murderer?"
Angie shook her head and sighed. "No, they keep running into a brick wall. But I feel something will open up soon."
Marty nodded and continued her preparations.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Angie asked.
"No, thanks. I've got everything ready so all I have to do is stick it in the oven."
When Tom arrived, Angie led him into the study. They finished going through the box of CDs but found nothing. Tom leaned back on the couch, his brow furrowed. "I thought we'd find something. My gut tells me Bud made a copy of the original records with the ABC Wafer Company on it. Crane said Bud showed a big interest in his findings. Where in the hell would he have put it?"
Angie shook her head.
"Do you have a safe-deposit box?"
Suddenly, Angie's face lit up. "Dear Lord, why didn't I think of it before? No, we don't have a box at the bank, but we do have a wall safe here in the house. And just the other day when I pulled out some legal papers to take to the attorney, a CD fell out of the vault onto the floor. I didn't think much about it, just figured it to be one of Bud's favorite songs that he didn't want to accidentally record over. I wasn't in the mood to deal with it at the time, so I tossed it back inside."
Tom jumped up. "Where's the safe?"
Inside Angie's bedroom, Tom stood back as she worked the combination. She finally opened it, retrieved the CD, then rummaged through the rest of the contents, making sure she hadn't overlooked anything.
They hurried back to the study, where Tom slid the CD into the computer. Angie felt his anxiety as a folder popped up on the monitor. He glanced at her. "Keep your fingers crossed."
When he double-clicked, several folders filled the screen. Angie knew he was excited as he studied each one intensely. Suddenly, he touched her arm and pointed. "There it is. The ABC Wafer Company." He slapped his thigh. "By damn, I knew Bud wouldn't let us down." He clicked through several of the pages. "I'm going to copy these files onto this computer, then onto another disk. When I finish, I want you to store this original CD back in your safe."
Angie shook her head in silence, her stomach knotted. She knew in her heart that they were a step closer to finding Bud's killer.
Chapter Fifteen
On Sunday morning, Sandy called. "Angie, have you got anything planned for this beautiful day?"
"No, just paying bills."
Sandy laughed. "How boring. Why don't you come over for a barbecue this afternoon? Ken is fixing chicken on the spit. The twins will be gone for the day, which means we can get caught up on all the gossip. It's been ages since we've talked."
"It sounds wonderful. What time?"
"Say between one and two o'clock."
"I'll see you then."
The invitation lifted Angie's spirits. They hadn't seen each other for a couple of weeks, and she'd missed their visits. So much had happened and she knew a decision had to be made on how much she would tell her friend.
She stared out the kitchen window as she sipped her coffee and thought about last night. After Tom had left, she'd gone into the computer to study the Nevers Company financial records. Not much made sense and it all looked like a foreign language. But she continued to search anyway, in hopes of finding some entry that might indicate a payment toward Melinda's welfare. But all she found that made any sense were salary statements. They didn't help. Bud had always taken care of their money matters. He'd once told her she didn't need to worry; there would always be money to run the household and to take care of any personal items that she desired.
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."