"Did you talk to Marty too?"
"Yes. She also took it rather hard. I told her I never wanted Melinda on the premises again."
After dinner, the three went into the study for an after-dinner drink. Sandy had remained silent through most of the dinner. She headed for the couch, which Tom figured must be her regular spot. He took the large leather chair across the room, so he could watch her face.
"Sandy, I know you're concerned and worried. If you'll let me, maybe I can help." He noticed that she had such a grip on her glass that her knuckles had turned white.
"My girls keep calling and asking me lots of questions."
"For instance?"
"Why I'm at the Nevers' and not home with Dad."
"So what do you tell them?"
Angie slipped quietly into a chair between them.
"I said their dad and I had an argument and I'm staying with Angie for a while."
"Your daughters are eighteen years old. Don't you think you should tell them the truth?"
"She jerked her head up and stared at him. "No! They couldn't handle it."
"I think you're underestimating them. What's going to happen if they find out from a stranger that their father is involved in a murder investigation and possibly has a grown daughter?"
Sandy's hand shook so hard that Angie reached over and removed the glass from between her fingers. "Tom's right. You should tell the girls the truth, before someone else does."
Dark streaks of mascara, blended with tears, slid down Sandy's cheeks. "I'm so ashamed. I can't." She glanced up at Angie with a ray of hope in her eyes. "Will you tell them?"
Angie knelt beside the sobbing woman. "Sandy, you're their mother. They need to hear it from you. It will be an embarrassing situation for you and the girls, but there's nothing for you to be ashamed about. Let the twins know how you feel. It will only help them realize the seriousness of the problem."
"No! No!" she cried. "It will hurt them too much."
Angie put an arm around her shoulders. "Don't blame yourself for Ken's behavior. He's a grown man. What he did is his own fault, not yours, nor the girls'."
"He's destroyed our family. Why did he do this?" she moaned.
Tom took advantage of the moment. "Sandy, why would Ken need money?"
She dabbed her eyes and glanced at him, puzzled. "Everything else has gone to hell, but financially, we're doing fine. Why do you ask such a question?"
"The company's accounting books show someone's been skimming off the top. They're in the hands of an auditor right now. Can you think of any reason why Ken would take money from the company?"
Sandy flopped back against the couch, her eyes searching the ceiling. "Oh dear God, now he's an embezzler? Next, they'll find out he murdered Bud and Ryan Conners."
Angie gasped and jumped up, her hand at her throat. "Don't say such a thing."
Sandy grabbed Angie's hands and wailed. "It's gone through my head. Ken's changed so much. The man I once loved and married has turned into a monster. I'm so frightened."
Angie pulled away and stepped back, staring at her.
Tom hurried across the room and guided Angie to a chair. He felt a bit uncomfortable with two emotional women. How did he reassure them when that accusation had been circulating around the station? He didn't want to lie, but he wasn't about to tell them of the police's suspicions. "Look, we have no evidence leading to Ken as a suspect in the murders."
Suddenly, Sandy's eyes narrowed and bored into Tom's. "Do you even have a suspect?"
Tom shrugged. "Well, no. Not at the moment." He felt a stab of uneasiness as both women turned their gaze on him.
Sandy rose unsteadily from her seat. "I think I'll call it a night." She extended her hand to Tom. "Strange. I feel better than I've felt in days. At least I've said all the horrible things that have been going through my mind. I feel like a huge burden's been lifted from my shoulders." She put her hand out to Tom. "Thanks for letting me say them."
He squeezed her hand. "You're going to get through this. Have a good night's rest."
She actually smiled, then reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
After Sandy left the room, Tom went to the bar, mixed himself a stiff drink, then, putting his arm across his waist, made a stiff bow toward Angie. "Can I fix you something, Madame?"
She walked over to bar and pointed at the gin. "Yes sir. My favorite, please." Leaning on the bar, she watched as Tom mixed the drink. "Do you really think she believes Ken killed Bud and Ryan Conners?"
He handed her the glass. When her fingers grazed his, a sensation like an electric shock went up his arm. He quickly picked up his own drink, hoping she didn't notice any reaction. "She's very distraught," he said. "I can just imagine the things going through her head."
Angie nodded, closed the study door, then sauntered over to the couch.
Tom joined her. "So how are you doing? You've hardly had time to grieve."
"I'm doing fine. I am a bit concerned how Melinda will take the news that Bud isn't her dad."
Tom got up and paced the room, rubbing the back of his neck. "Every time you tell me about this Melinda, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach."
"You don't have to tell me that," she said. "I know the feeling."
"Do you think Marty will tell her before you have the chance?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I indicated to Marty that I want nothing more to do with the girl."
"Even though you feel pretty certain she won't let her in the gate, Marty is her mother and she'll more than likely talk to her over the phone.
"What types of communication she works out with her daughter is none of my business. As long as I don't have to deal with her."
Tom scratched his sideburn. "I wonder how much contact Bud had with the girl?"
"I can't answer that one." She shook her head. "Except that Melinda didn't know she had a father in the area until recently. Marty always referred to him as her benefactor until just a short time ago when she finally disclosed his name to Melinda. So, it doesn't sound like the girl knew him at all."
Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out the pictures he'd removed from the album. Angie watched him with curiosity
"However, that doesn't mean Bud didn't keep an eye on her from a distance throughout the years." He explained where the pictures had come from, before sitting down beside her.
Her eyes grew misty as she fingered each photo. "What a beautiful child," she whispered. "And to think all these years he thought she was his." When she finished going through the photos, she leaned back against the couch and dabbed at her eyes. "How I would have loved to raise her."
"Where do you think Bud got these pictures? Do you think he took them himself?"
She handed them back. "Oh, I doubt it. More than likely Marty gave him snapshots each year. If for no other reason than to prove she was using the money wisely."
"You don't think he hired someone to take them?"
"Why should he when he had the mother right here on the premises?"
He nodded. "You've got a point. So the secret's kept safe."