Murder.com

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  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.

  With her back to the coffee shop, Melinda sat down on the bench in front of the phones. Angie finished her coffee, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She untied the scarf from under her chin, folded it into a square and tucked it into her purse. Removing the sunglasses, she put them into the case and shoved them into her pocket. Then, she rose from her chair and started across the walkway.

  * * *

  Chapter Eleven

  Angie stared at the glistening blond hair cascading over Melinda's shoulders and over the back of the bench. Her legs felt heavy as she forced herself forward. Each step took effort. What did Melinda want? First she seemed only interested in Bud. But now her, why? A chill crept up her spine.

  Suddenly, she noticed her reflection in the large window directly in front of her and froze. Melinda jerked her head around and stood. Her face paled. Their eyes locked.

  “What are you doing here?” Melinda asked in a harsh whisper.

  Angie held her head high. “Talking on the phone about important matters is something I choose not to do. It should be done face to face."

  Melinda's eyes narrowed. “How did you know where to come?"

  Angie pointed at the pay phones. “If you let those ring long enough, someone finally answers.” She turned her gaze back to Melinda and thought she saw a glint of relief in those piercing eyes. Angie strolled down to the end of the bench and sat down. “So what is it that you have to tell me about Bud?"

  The young woman hesitantly lowered herself onto the seat a few feet away. Angie knew she'd caught her off guard. Oddly enough, it put her inner feelings at ease. She studied Melinda as she fought for composure. A natural beauty, skin as smooth as silk and hair that shone even under artificial lights. But her eyes distracted Angie. Beautiful as they were, they left her feeling cold and scared.

  Melinda's gaze traveled to Angie's face. “You obviously don't know who I am."

  “No, I don't have the foggiest notion who you are or where you're from. All I know is that you came to see Bud at our party."

  “He didn't tell you?"

  “No."

  Shifting her position, Melinda remained silent for a few moments, staring at the window in front of her. Then, she slowly turned her head and looked into Angie's eyes. “I'm his illegitimate daughter."

  Angie's stomach lurched. She didn't expect such an announcement. A lover, a one night stand, anything but this. Her hand went to her throat and she gasped. “You're Bud's daughter?"

  “Yes."

  Now, fighting for her own composure, she stiffened. “You have proof?"

  “No. But he's paid my way since the day I was born. Surely you can find what you need in his financial records."

  Angie stared at her in disbelief. If only I'd known he had a daughter, she thought. Still stunned by the news, Angie clutched her purse, the words of the young woman whirling in her head.

  “I'm here to warn you I don't want the money to stop just because he's dead."

  Clearing her throat, Angie shifted her position. “Who's your mother?"

  “That's not relevant."

  “How old are you?"

  “Twenty-three."

  Angie's mind flashed back in time. It would have been about the time she'd lost the second baby. The time of deep depression. Yes, it could be very possible that this woman is Bud's child. “Where have you been all this time?"

  “Going to the best private schools money can buy."

  Yes, Bud would see to that, Angie thought. Only the best. “Did you go to college too?"

  “Graduated from Georgetown University."

  “I don't understand why you need money. Don't you plan on working?"

  Melinda glared at her. “That's not the point, Mrs. Nevers. I've been robbed of a normal childhood. I never even knew I had a father until a few months ago. I've always been told I had a benefactor."

  Angie nodded. “I see. And you think blackmail money will remedy that?"

  Melinda's eyes spit angry green fire. “I'm the product of a night of lust. Now, I want my mother to have a life. Out of the hole she's working in and into a home of her own."

  “Well, that's very noble. But it sounds as if you've been well taken care of all these years. I'm sure that took a big burden off your mother."

  The young woman rose and glared at Angie.

  “Mrs. Nevers, I could ruin your life."

  Angie met her stare. “Are you threatening me?"

  Melinda turned away and studied the mall's walkway.

  Standing, Angie pulled a notebook from her purse and scribbled down an address. “I'll meet you at Doctor Parker's office in the morning at eleven o'clock. Here's his address.” She ripped off the paper and handed it to Melinda.

  The girl looked baffled. “Why?"

  “You tell me you're Bud's daughter. I want more proof than you've offered. I can't think of a better way than DNA testing. If you don't show up, I never want to hear from you again. Do you understand?"

  Melinda's mouth dropped open, but no words came out. Angie marched away, feeling those penetrating eyes boring into her back. Surprised at her own inner strength, she made it to the car before the dam of tears broke. “Oh, Bud, why?” she sobbed. “Why didn't you tell me you had a daughter.” Wiping away the tears, she started the car and headed home.

  Even though the clock read ten fifteen when she reached the house, she called Dr. Parker at home. Knowing she could trust him, she explained about Melinda claiming to be Bud's daughter and how presumptuous she'd been in telling Melinda to be at his office at eleven o'clock. She hoped he could squeeze her in. Dr. Parker assured her they would, and he also explained that he'd have to send outside his lab for the DNA testing, as he didn't have the facilities.

  After talking with Dr. Parker, her hand still resting on the receiver, she flipped through the Rolodex until she found Ryan Conners’ name. He'd been the Nevers company's accountant for close to ten years. Could she trust him? She let out a sigh and dropped the phone back on the cradle. What would she ask him? She got up and paced the kitchen. He wouldn't know anything about Bud's private expenditures. She didn't even know. Their salary fluctuated each month, d
epending on their sales. Not only that, she wouldn't have the foggiest notion of how to find something unusual in the books.

  Angie went into the den, where she mixed herself a gin and tonic. She stared at the slice of lime she'd just dropped into her drink. “I'm so damned naive,” she muttered. Then her gaze traveled around the room. Pictures of her and Bud at different functions adorned the walls, their faces glowing with pride and happiness.

  She walked around, speaking to each picture. “Bud, did you do this to me on purpose? Never involving me in money matters so I wouldn't know?” She refilled her drink, this time making it a double. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “You didn't want to adopt. Why, Bud? How many other women were there? How many other children are going to search me out?"

  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.

  * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  In the waiting room, Angie glanced up from her magazine when Melind
a, eyes blazing, stormed out of Dr. Parker's small lab and stopped in front of her.

  “You'll be hearing from me in two weeks."

  Before she could speak, the young woman had slammed out the door. Angie laid the magazine aside, stood and watched through the window as Melinda marched toward her car.

  Dr. Parker stepped up beside her. “There goes a beautiful young woman with quite a chip on her shoulder."

  “Yes, I know,” she whispered. “Such a shame."

  “Do you know her mother?” Parker asked.

  “No, she wouldn't tell me. Did she tell you?"

  He shook his head. “If she's Bud's daughter, she must have taken after her mother, because I don't see any resemblance to him.” He touched Angie's shoulder. “I've got to get back to work. I'll call as soon as I get the results."

  * * * *

  Tom decided to make the call to the intern from work, and had just hung up when Cliff walked into his office. This morning he sported a golf hat and grumbled loudly about the traffic. Putting on his best smile, Tom nodded. “A good morning to you too, Detective Maxhimer. You need to get up earlier so you can beat the traffic."

  Cliff fired a look at him that could have burnt a hole in his chest. “Some people get rude calls in the wee hours of the morning and have a hard time getting back to sleep.” He slouched down in the chair next to the desk. “So, did you make the call?"

  Getting serious, Tom shoved his sheet of notes toward Cliff so he could read them. “Yes. The intern's name is Bill Crane. The news of Bud's death shocked him. But once he composed himself, he told me he'd found an unusual entry in the Nevers company's financial books. An ABC Wafer Company had been receiving a hefty check each month from the Nevers company. He researched the name on the web and on the stock market, but couldn't find anything about them, so he brought it to Mr. Nevers’ attention. He thought Bud took the news pretty seriously, but he never learned of the outcome of the audit because he left for school shortly thereafter."