Murder.com

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  -----------------------------------

  Murder.com

  by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  -----------------------------------

  Mystery

  * * *

  Fictionwise

  www.fictionwise.com

  Copyright ©2003 by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  First Published by SynergEbooks, May 2003

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

  * * *

  Chapter One

  Bud Nevers stood at his bedroom window and stared into the inky darkness of yet another unseasonable storm pelting the San Francisco Bay area. Deep in thought, he didn't even flinch when the wet branches of a large oak tree slapped against the window.

  Tonight he and Angie had invited a group of friends from work to help them celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Normally, he looked forward to entertaining guests, but tonight it had no appeal. Other worries troubled his mind. Like the young eager beaver intern Bill Crane, hired by the company for the summer, who'd uncovered a questionable entry in the accounting books and brought it to Bud's attention

  The young man had pointed out how he thought it odd that the ABC Wafer Company had been receiving fifty thousand dollars on the same day every month for the past year. He'd asked Bud if he knew who they were and what service they provided.

  Bud couldn't answer the question. Crane went on to explain that he'd never seen this company listed on the stock market, nor had he ever heard of them. When Bud learned this, he immediately became suspicious.

  He moved away from the window when Angie raced out of the bathroom, towels wrapped around her head and body. “We're running late,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling. “Our guests will be here in thirty minutes.” She sat down at the dressing table, turned on the make-up lights and rubbed her fingers over her cheeks. “Oh, look at these bags under my eyes.” She stuck out her tongue at the reflection in the mirror.

  Bud grinned. Not only did he think she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but she also had a sense of humor, a rare combination in his eyes. Desire filled him as he watched her unwrap the turban and shake her head. Dark brown hair, laced with gray, tumbled down her back. At forty-seven she still looked like a goddess.

  Strolling over to stand behind her, he put his hands on her bare, lightly freckled shoulders and winked at her image in the mirror. Then gently working his fingers under the towel, he fondled her full breasts. “Hmm, only thirty minutes. Then we'll have to hurry."

  A smile twitched her lips as she turned toward him and let the towel fall to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her slender body and carried her to the bed.

  Angie Nevers had been in love with Bud from the minute she'd seen him on the football field. She knew he'd planned to make the game his profession, however, a knee injury ended those dreams. But now he headed his own company, Nevers Computer Technology, and was doing exceptionally well.

  She ran her hands over his back, feeling the ripples of his muscles. How she loved this man. Since she'd not been able to have children, all her devotion centered on him.

  After their lovemaking, he hugged her close, nuzzling the crook of her neck. When she started to laugh, he raised up and looked at her with narrowed hazel eyes. A strand of his dusty-blond hair lay across his brow.

  “Now what's so funny? Am I not doing this right after all these years?"

  Kissing the tip of his nose, she shook her head. “You're wonderful, but we have company arriving and we're up here making mad passionate love. You're going to have to get dressed, go downstairs and make excuses for me.” She wagged a finger at him. “And don't you dare tell our guests what we've been up to."

  A lazy grin spread across his face as he padded toward the shower. “Hey, they wouldn't believe me. After twenty-five years of marriage, they probably don't think we do this anymore."

  Angie laughed and tossed a pillow at him as he closed the bathroom door. Shortly, Bud dressed and hurried down the stairs, leaving his wife to finish getting ready.

  Later that evening, champagne flowed and a buzz of happiness filled Angie. When the doorbell sounded, she spotted Bud across the room, deeply engrossed in conversation with some of the company's employees. She set her drink on the table and proceeded toward the entry. When she opened the door, her gaze met the most piercing green eyes she'd ever seen. “Yes, can I help you?"

  The young woman facing her calmly removed a raincoat revealing a striking green silk dress that matched those penetrating eyes. She smiled tightly. “Sorry I'm late."

  Angie frowned. She knew everyone they'd invited, but not this woman. “I'm sorry. I don't think we've met."

  “I'm Melinda. Could you tell Mr. Nevers I've arrived?"

  A wave of uneasiness swept over Angie, but she stepped back. “Come in out of the wind. Wait here and I'll go get him."

  She weaved her way through the crowded living room, pulled Bud into the hallway and whispered. “There's a woman at the door asking for you, but I don't think she's one of your employees. I've never seen her before."

  He took a swig of his drink and glanced around the room. “Looks like everyone's here. What's her name?"

  She shrugged. “Melinda."

  Bud coughed, handed her his glass and hurried toward the entry.

  Angie watched him take the woman by the arm and lead her back out on the covered veranda, closing the door behind them. She paced the living room, chatting with friends, and tried to steal a glimpse out the front windows without being too obvious. But after fifteen minutes, she couldn't stand it any longer and peeked out the front door. “Bud?"

  When he didn't answer, she stepped out on the porch and found him standing alone, staring into the darkness, his hands stuck deep into his pockets. She slipped an arm through his. “Is everything okay?"

  He looked out over the parked cars in front of the house. “Yeah."

  Her gaze followed his and she squinted into the darkness. “Where'd that woman go?"

  He patted her hand. “She left."

  “What'd she want?"

  “I'll tell you about it later.” He guided her toward the door. “We better get back to our guests."

  The minute they stepped inside, Bud dropped her hand and headed toward a group of men standing on the far side of the room, without giving her his usual wink. She sensed he didn't want to talk about the woman, but why? Who was this Melinda and what had she said that had altered his mood so much?

  Bud's drinking escalated as the evening progressed. After the last guest finally departed, he headed for the bedroom. She started to follow, but stopped at the foot of the stairwell and watched him stumble up the stairs. He didn't even glance her way or say good night. When the door slammed, she let out a long sigh and decided to stay downstairs to help Marty, her housekeeper and cook, clean up.

  Angie finally made it upstairs, kicked off her shoes and dressed for bed. She crawled under the covers and slid close to Bud, slipping an arm around his chest. He'd fallen into a deep sleep, snoring rhythmically. She worried about the distance that he'd put between them after Melinda's visit tonight. The questions would have to wait. She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling while listening to the house creak and groan as it settled for the night. First thing tomorrow, she'd find out what that woman wanted. Whatever she'd said to Bud had definitely bothered him.

  The next morning, Angie rolled over to hug her husband, but her hand fell o
nto an empty mattress and her eyes snapped open. She glanced at the clock. “Damn. It's nine o'clock. He's already left for the golf course."

  She shrugged into her robe, then slowly went down the winding staircase, smiling as she slid her hand along the ornate banister. She always imagined what a beautiful picture it would be seeing a daughter walk down these stairs in her first formal. All her married life she'd dreamed of having a girl to dress up and a boy to play sports for Bud. She sighed and pushed the sad thought away.

  Marty Casale, only two years older than Angie, stood at the counter rolling out biscuit dough with a flour-speckled apron tied around her thin but shapely body. She turned and smiled, her face almost as pretty as Angie's, except for the deep lines etched in her forehead and around her mouth. A face depicting a hard life. “Good morning, Mrs. Nevers. What would you like for breakfast? Biscuits are almost ready."

  “A nice cup of black coffee to start.” Angie rubbed her temples. “Champagne always gives me a headache."

  “You gave a nice party."

  “Thank you. But no one would miss a celebration that served Marty Casale's hors d'oeuvres."

  Marty's cheeks turned a rosy pink. She ducked her head, grinning broadly.

  Pouring a cup of coffee, Angie touched Marty's shoulder. “I'll eat with Bud when he gets back from golfing. You know him, a creature of habit. He'll hit this door famished as soon as his game is over."

  * * * *

  Ken Weber, Bud's right hand man at the company, accompanied him on the golf course. They'd known each other since college and together had formed Nevers Computer Technology; Bud, the CEO and Ken, the President.

  Ken stood head and shoulders above the foursome of men as they said their good-byes at the edge of the course alongside the parking lot. Bud turned his clubs over to the caddy and started for the clubhouse. Ken's long strides soon caught up with his rapid pace. “Hey, Buddy, what's with you today? Your game showed maybe too much champagne last night?"

  “Partly."

  Bud had noticed Ken eyeing him through the set of eighteen holes and expected his questions.

  “Something bothering you?"

  “You could say that.” Bud paused, “Melinda paid me a visit."

  Ken stopped in his tracks, his sharp green eyes narrowed. “When?"

  Bud continued walking. “Last night at the party."

  “What the hell?” He hastened up alongside Bud. “I didn't see her."

  “Fortunately, I stopped her before she got inside"

  “Shit. What'd she want?"

  “You realize she's graduated from college and is twenty-three years old? Hard to believe."

  Ken nodded.

  “She doesn't want the money to stop. If it does, she'll talk. Said her mother's furious, but she doesn't care. She's taking the matter into her own hands now.” He halted and looked at Ken. “But that's not all that's bothering me. What in the hell is ABC Wafer Company?"

  Startled, Ken stepped back. “What are you talking about?"

  “I'm not an accountant, Ken. But something fishy is going on with the books."

  Ken rubbed the back of his neck and looked out over the golf course. “Damn. Then we better get an auditor."

  A woman's voice from across the parking lot distracted them. “Ken! Bud! How'd you do?"

  Sandy, Ken's wife, who'd been playing tennis on the club's courts, came toward them. “Oh dear, looks like I've interrupted a serious conversation."

  Bud watched Ken put on a big grin and slip his arm around her shoulders. “No problem, just trying to figure out why Bud's swing fell so short today."

  Sandy raised a finely-arched brow and grinned. “What you're saying is the other guys whipped your butts."

  Bud forced a smile. “Yeah, something like that."

  Sandy glanced at Ken. “Ready to go?"

  “Yeah.” He threw a skeptical look over his shoulder at Bud. “We'll talk later."

  Bud watched the couple walk away. Then with a sigh, he headed toward his car in the parking lot.

  Driving home, he thought about how he'd broach the subject of Melinda to Angie. It wouldn't be easy; he knew she'd be full of questions. Suddenly, a news bulletin came over the radio mentioning the local high school. Bud turned up the volume. He learned that Highway Seventeen had been closed due to a serious accident involving a semi-truck and a school bus full of high school seniors heading for the beach. He remembered Ken mentioning that his twin girls were going to the beach with their school today. Swerving to the side of the road, he made a U-turn.

  The minute he approached the Weber's driveway, he saw Ken and Sandy backing out. He sensed the twins were on that bus. Ken rolled down the car window, his face pallid. “There's been a wreck."

  Bud nodded. “I heard on the radio. That's why I'm here. Any news?"

  On the verge of hysteria, Sandy wiped the tears from her eyes. “Not yet.” Her voice trembled. “We're on our way to the hospital now."

  Bud watched as they gunned past him. “Dear God,” he said aloud. “I do believe things come in threes. First the accounting entry, then Melinda's visit and now this wreck."

  When he got home, he rushed inside and tuned the television to the local news station.

  Angie hurried into the TV room. “What is it?"

  He pointed at the screen. “Bad wreck. The Weber twins were on that school bus."

  Her hand went to her mouth as she stared at the overturned yellow bus hanging halfway over the edge of the road. “Are you sure the girls were on it?"

  “Yeah, I just left Ken and Sandy. They're pretty shook up and were headed for the hospital."

  Angie slid into the chair, her eyes glued to the TV coverage of the grisly wreck as paramedics lifted a stretcher with a covered body into an awaiting ambulance.

  Bud shot a sideways glance at her, folded his arms across his chest and continued to watch the news. He felt guilty that this tragedy bought him time at the expense of the Webers’ girls. At least for a while, he wouldn't have to answer questions about Melinda.

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  The small community rallied together after the accident. Having no children of her own, Angie loved Cindy and Wendy Weber as if they were and felt great relief that the twins had survived the horrific crash with only minor cuts and bruises. However, she still worried about their mental state after Sandy told how they'd watched as a classmate bled to death.

  Angie spent most of the next few days at the Weber home, offering comfort to the girls and helping Sandy. At Marty's insistence they prepared meals for the families of the victims and for those exhausted parents spending long vigils at the hospital with their critically injured children. Angie delivered those dinners and lunches. The week passed in a blur.

  Bud sat in his office, glued to the computer, tapping a pencil on the desk. The more he studied the books, the more hidden entries he found. He now knew that someone had skimmed a lot of money out of the company, deleting profit over a long period of time. He tossed his pencil across the desk. To think he'd trusted his staff without reservation. But the evidence proved that someone had betrayed him. Hands clasped behind his back, he went to the window and stared out. He'd have to call in an auditor to find the full extent of the embezzlement.

  Rubbing his neck, he sighed. As if he didn't have enough on his mind, Melinda had to enter the picture. There hadn't been an opportunity to sit down and discuss it with Angie. But he knew she would bring it up soon, especially now that the twins were better. He let out another deep sigh and rubbed his temples. “Why can't life be simple?” Grumbling, he locked the files on the computer and shut down. “Might as well go home and get it over with."

  Angie's car wasn't in the garage when he pulled in, but Marty greeted him when he strolled into the kitchen. “Good evening, Mr. Nevers."

  “Hello, Marty.” He sat down at the table, set for one. “Where's Angie?"

  “The Weber's. She took over a meal."

  He picked up the fork
and twirled it between his fingers. “Aren't things about back to normal over there?"

  “Yes, sir."

  Bud noticed she avoided his gaze. “Marty."

  “Yes, Mr. Nevers."

  He dropped the fork on his plate, making a loud clatter, then hit the table with his fist. “Cut the formality, Marty. You know Melinda came to the party last Friday night."

  Her shoulders and back stiffened as she moved to the sink. “Yes. I begged her not to come."

  “Did Angie mention it to you?"

  “No, not a word. But why should she?"

  “Once I tell her about Melinda, she'll probably fire you."

  Marty whirled around, her eyes narrowed. “Why tell her? She'll only be hurt. You're the one who'll be caught in the middle."

  At that moment, Bud heard his home-office phone ring and left the room. Fifteen minutes later when he returned, Marty had gone. It didn't surprise him. He sat down at the table, ate his lukewarm dinner, then sauntered into the television room to the wet bar where he mixed a stiff scotch and water. Relaxing in his leather recliner, he felt the exhaustion of the week slide over him. He knew he couldn't delay the Melinda matter much longer, but he sure didn't want to discuss it with Angie tonight. With slow dragging steps, he took himself off to bed.

  Marty Casales walked to her bungalow on the other side of the garage and stepped into the home she cherished. She'd grown up with Angie and had been employed by the Nevers for twenty-five years. The thought of it ending squeezed her heart. She loved Angie Nevers. The woman didn't have a selfish bone in her body. Glancing around the room, she let her mind drift back over the years. Angie had had this cottage specially built for her so she could remain on the property. At the time, Angie had dreamt of having children and wanted her as a nanny.

  Angie carried her first baby for only four months, the second for five. She tried to be brave, but after the doctors told her she couldn't bear children, she went into deep depression, unable to take care of herself or her home. Marty stepped in and took over, becoming Angie's caretaker for over a year.