Murder.Com

Tom stood and buttoned his jacket, concealing his gun. "We might as well get started." In the car, he put in a call for backup.

When they reached the Webers' home, Tom rang the bell, then knocked several times before Sandy finally opened the door a few inches. Taken aback by her appearance, Tom shoved it open. "Sandy, what happened?"

Holding her hand over the right side of her face, she ducked her head. "Hello, Tom. I'm so embarrassed. I slipped on the wet kitchen floor after mopping and hit my face against the edge of a cabinet. I've really made a mess of myself." She turned her better side toward them, but her gaze went past Tom to the police car parked in the front. Two officers got out and walked toward the house. "What's going on?"

Tom held up the warrant. "We're here to search the house."

Sandy's mouth dropped open as she studied Tom's and Cliff's faces. "Why?"

"Just part of the investigation." Cliff said, moving toward the door.

She put her hand on the knob, blocking Cliff's entrance. "Does Ken know you're here?"

Tom shook his head.

"I better call him." She abruptly turned to go inside, but Tom stopped her. "I don't want you to do that."

Her eyes filled with fear. "He'll be furious with me for letting you in."

"You just tell him you had to or we'd have broken down the door. We have a warrant. We're within the law."

Sandy choked back a sob. "He'll kill me, Tom." She studied his face a moment before reluctantly moving out of the way so they could enter the house.

Tom frowned as he stepped inside, wondering if the story of slipping on a wet floor was the truth. "You might want to take the twins and go somewhere for a couple of hours. This might alarm them."

"They're visiting my mother."

His eyes searched her face for a moment, then he directed her into the kitchen and reassured her they wouldn't be long. Leaving her, he joined Cliff and the officers in the search.

Sandy leaned against the kitchen counter, tears streaming down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away. She knew Ken was in trouble, but she didn't know why. Once he found out she'd let police in to search the place, he'd hit her again for sure.

What had happened to her sweet, gentle husband of almost nineteen years? Something had caused him to go over the edge. He might even kill her if she didn't get out. No, she wouldn't be the brunt of his attacks any longer.

One of the officers walked through the living room and out the door with a plastic bag, full of what looked like garbage from the wastebaskets. She followed him to the door and watched him deposit it into the trunk of the police car. Her heart pounded so hard against her ribs, she thought it would burst through her chest. What could they find in the garbage? What made them suspicious of her husband?

She glanced at her watch. Ken would be arriving home within the hour. Panic rose in her heart. Hurrying down the hallway, she looked into each room until she found the two detectives in Ken's home office. "Tom, could I speak to you?"

He stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door closed. "What is it?"

Her hands were clasped in front her so tightly that her knuckles began to turn white. She stared at the floor. "I'd like to call Angie Nevers."

Tom leaned up against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. "I'd rather you didn't call anyone right now."

"I feel like my privacy is being invaded and it's making me very nervous. I can't stay here and watch. If Angie's home, I'll go see her."

He let out a sigh and nodded. "Okay." He pulled away from the wall and followed her into the kitchen where she dialed the number.

"Angie? Sandy. Can I take you up on your offer? Thanks, I'll be there within thirty minutes."

After she hung up, she dashed into the master bedroom, threw some clothes into a duffel bag and grabbed her makeup kit.

Tom observed the nervous woman's actions, noticing the already packed makeup kit. He walked her outside and held the car door open as she tossed everything into the back seat, then climbed into the driver's seat. "Looks like you plan to hide out awhile."

Sandy never looked at him as she turned the key and gunned the engine. "As long it takes to get this mess settled." She backed out the driveway and sped down the street toward's the Nevers' home.

*****

Cliff waited for Tom at the front door. "What's happening?"

Tom backed toward the door as he watched the car disappear into the distance. "She's scared. You can't tell me she slipped on a wet floor. Those bruises were caused by punches."

"Where's she headed?"

"The Nevers' place. I listened to her conversation with Angie. Sounds like they'd planned this in case Sandy needed an escape."

As the two men walked deeper into the house, they were startled by the squeal of car tires and screeching brakes. They dashed back to the front door and met Ken Weber entering the house, his face contorted in anger and fear.

Tom raised his hand. "Sandy's fine. She isn't here right now. We have a search warrant and are conducting a murder investigation."

Ken's eyes flared. "Here? At my house? I thought Ryan killed himself."

Cliff stepped forward. "No, Mr. Weber. Mr. Conners was murdered."

"You think I'm the murderer?" Ken snapped, pointing a finger at his own chest.

"No one is accusing you of anything. Yet." Cliff stared into Ken's eyes.

Grabbing Tom's arm, Ken jerked his head toward Cliff. "Where the hell did you pick up this guy? He acts like he's in charge. I thought you were."

Tom looked into his face. "Settle down Ken, he's my right-hand man. We're both in this equally. Whatever he says is fine with me." With that Tom removed Ken's hand from his arm. Then he and Cliff walked into Ken's office and closed the door behind them.

Ken lurched forward, but stopped abruptly when an officer stepped in front of him, his hand resting on his gun.

*****

Only after the big gates to the Nevers' property closed behind her did Sandy Weber breathe a sigh of relief. She drove over the crest and viewed the mansion as a safe haven. At least for the moment.

Angie stood at the open front door and threw her arms around her, then pushed her back at arm's length and frowned. "Dear God. What has he done to you?"

Sandy put her hands to her face. "All hell is breaking loose. Tom and his detective friend are searching my house. I'm sure Ken is home by now and he's probably furious. I don't know what's going on."

Taking one of the bags, Angie put an arm around Sandy's shoulders and brought her inside, closing the door with her foot. "I'm surprised Tom didn't bring you himself."

She bit her lip. "He doesn't know Ken hit me. I told him I slipped and fell. But I don't think he believed me. It surprised me when he agreed to let me call you and then let me leave. I guess I'm not a suspect in whatever they're looking for."

Angie led her into the kitchen. She'd excused Marty for the rest of the day after receiving Sandy's call. Marty loved to gossip with her friends and there was no need to give her more to talk about. "Have you eaten anything?"

Sandy shook her head.

Angie busied herself warming up some chicken Marty had prepared earlier, and fixed a plate for each of them. They ate in silence for several moments before Sandy spoke, her eyes brimming with tears. She dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. "What am I going to do? Ken's in big trouble."

Angie reached across the table and patted her arm. "I'll call Tom later. Maybe he can enlighten us." But her fears were escalating and she didn't like the thoughts going through her mind. Did Ken have something to do with Ryan's or Bud's murder? The thought of it made her stomach tie into knots. Having lost her appetite, she pushed her plate away.

Chapter Eighteen

After two more hours of searching through the Weber household, Tom stood and stretched his aching back. "So far we've found nothing concrete to connect Ken with either Bud's or Conners' deaths. But my gut tells me he's guilty of something. Let's take the stuff to the office and go through it there. I'm ready to call it a day."

Cliff lifted his hat a ways off his head, ran his fingers through his unruly hair, then shoved it back on. "Strange how the criminal mind never takes into consideration how many innocent people are going to be hurt. Already, we've seen Mrs. Weber suffering. And look at the grief Mrs. Nevers is going through. Makes one wonder if a warped mind is capable of loving or caring."

Tom shook his head and went out into the hallway, looking for Ken. He finally found him in the back yard, pacing the side of the pool.

"Ken, we're through for now. I apologize for the inconvenience, but we may be back."

Ken's eyes narrowed. "Where's Sandy?"

Tom hesitated about telling him, yet she hadn't indicated that he conceal her whereabouts. "She's visiting Angie Nevers. It upset her that the police were searching her home."

"No kidding?" Ken sneered.

Tom went back into the house just as the two officers assisting them prepared to leave. He and Cliff, each with a plastic bag, followed them outside. They dropped the bags into the trunk of the police car and slammed it shut. He gave the officers instructions to take the evidence back to the station.

He then went to the unmarked car and slid behind the steering wheel while Cliff climbed into the passenger side. "You want to go with me out to the Nevers' place?" Tom asked.

"What you have to say won't take two detectives. Drop me at the station. Hell, I could have ridden with those officers."

"No problem." He let Cliff out at the station and continued on his way. He called Angie on his cell phone. Her voice sounded strong and capable. She seemed to be holding up well. Sandy's presence would force her to think about other things instead of her recent tragedy. The gate stood open, the electric eye closing it once he'd whipped through.

Angie led Tom into the study where Sandy sat with a dazed expression. She glanced up at Tom when he entered the room, her expression drawn and questioning.

He went to the bar, made drinks for all of them, and sat down in a chair opposite the two women. "Sandy, I hope it will ease your mind to know that we found nothing to connect Ken to any of the crimes."

She sat quietly for a few moments before finally looking up at him. "I'm still scared."

He furrowed his brow. "I can understand your worry and concern. But why are you scared?"

"Because Ken has turned violent."

Tom knew something drastic had happened, but he wanted to get specific details from Sandy. "He's threatened you?"

She nodded. "More than that." She pointed to her face. "He did this."

"Are you telling me that he's never hit you before?"

Tears welled in her eyes. "Never, until recently. He even hit one of the twins. That's why I sent them away."

His face serious, he scooted forward in the chair. "When did this behavior start?"

"Right after Bud died. But became more violent after Conners' death." She glanced at Angie, her gaze apologetic.

"Have you noticed other changes?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes."

"For instance?"

"He paces the floor, his gaze darts back and forth, he's up in the middle of the night and sometimes abruptly leaves. If I ask where he's been, he tells me to shut up." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "He's just not the same man."

Tom glanced at Angie. "She shouldn't go back home."

"She won't. I'll keep her here."

Sandy glanced from one to the other. "But what if he comes looking for me?"

Tom glanced at Angie. "Don't leave your gate open any more. Make sure everyone has checked in with you before you open it. By all means don't let Ken in. If he persists, call the police." He noticed a flash of fear pass over Angie's face.

"You think he might try something at my house?"

"You can't take any chances. Pass this on to Marty too. She mustn't open that gate if it's Ken."

Angie walked to the window and stared out. Tom watched her, wondering what he'd said that had upset her.

Sandy stood, wringing her hands. "I can't stay here. Angie's had enough grief. She doesn't need my burdens too."

Angie turned from the window and set her glass on the sill. "You're not going anywhere. We'll both be safer here. I've got my gun upstairs and no one will break in on us."

Tom looked at her with surprise. "You know how to shoot?"

"Of course. I have a permit to carry a gun." She waved a hand toward Sandy. "So does she."

"I've known you two gals all these years and didn't know either one of you knew beans about guns."

Angie smiled. "It's not something one boasts about. But, Bud, Sandy, Ken, Marty and I attended several different gun classes. Afterwards, we all applied for our permits. I carry my small Barretta in my purse."

"It definitely puts my mind at ease to know you women have the knowledge to protect yourselves." He turned his attention toward Sandy. "I think it would be wise for you to stay here."

Angie touched Sandy's shoulder. "Why don't you go upstairs and soak in a nice warm bath. I need to talk to Tom for a few minutes before he leaves."

"You're sure my staying here isn't inconvenient?"

"I'm sure."

Sandy left them and went up to the guest bedroom.

Angie went to the bar and freshened her gin and tonic. "I hope I'm not keeping you, Tom, but I didn't want to talk in front of Sandy. It would only make her more nervous."

"No problem. What's on your mind?"

She took a sip of her drink, then began. "I don't know if any of this will have a bearing on Bud's murder, but it may be relevant."

Tom sat on the edge of his chair as Angie filled him in about Melinda, finding the letter addressed to Bud at Marty's place and her confrontation with Marty. When she finished, Tom exhaled noisily and leaned back in the chair. He brushed his hand across the stubble on his chin. "You're quite a woman."

"Well, I don't know why you think so, but thanks anyway."

"You've done all this sleuthing without anyone's help. But, I'm worried about Melinda. She sounds dangerous."

"When I first met her, I thought I'd taken on more than I could handle. However, I don't feel that way any more."

"Why's that?"

"Because I don't think she's Bud's daughter."

Tom leaned forward, his brows raised. "But Marty states she is. What makes you think she wouldn't know the father of her own child?"

Angie got up and paced the room. Placing her forefinger on her chin, she paused in front of Tom. "I've thought about the situation and mulled it over in my mind a thousand times. At first, I became furious with Bud, threw all his pictures in the trash. Then the more I thought about it...." Her voice quivered.

"Go on."

"That night Bud and Ken were celebrating the big contract that got the company off its feet and running, I'd just lost a baby and the doctor had me on heavy doses of tranquilizers, so I excused myself and went to bed."

She sat down opposite Tom and continued. "Marty told me she'd joined the men in the celebration and they all got drunk. All she remembers is Bud walking her home. However, hours lapsed before she awoke and found herself naked and Bud, fully dressed, sprawled across the foot of her bed. Now, what I don't understand, if they'd been making love, how come Bud was fully dressed? I think they both passed out and nothing happened."

Tom raised his brows. "Now come on Angie, give me a break."

She waved her hand. "Wait, hear me out. Then I'll listen to what you think."

He nodded. "Okay, fair enough."

"You haven't met Melinda. And until you do, you might not understand what I'm going to tell you. While trying to put the picture together in my mind, Dr. Parker made a comment in his office the day Melinda went in for the DNA testing. It set me to thinking even more."

"What's that?"

"That Melinda had none of Bud's characteristics, so she must resemble her mother." Angie pointed a finger at Tom. "That girl looks nothing like Marty. But, she resembles someone else."

Tom leaned forward. "And may I ask who?"

Angie stared into his eyes and kept her voice low. "Ken Weber."

Chapter Nineteen

The words had no more fallen from Angie's lips when the phone rang. She put the receiver to her ear, then her face turned pale and she shot a look of fear at Tom. "Hello, Ken."

He immediately moved to her side.

"Yes, she's here, but she's resting at the moment. Can I give her a message?" Angie's blue eyes filled with concern. "No, she won't be coming home tonight. She's planning on staying here a few days."

She took the phone from her ear and stared at it. "He hung up."

Tom took the receiver and dropped it on the cradle. "He's upset."

Angie wiped a hand across her forehead. "I'm really worried about Sandy. She can't believe that Ken's turned into a dangerous man, yet she's scared to death of him. I'm afraid if she goes home, he'll really hurt her or even worse. Just look what he's done to her already. It's awful."

Tom touched her shoulder and pointed toward the couch. "I realize that. I'm assigning a guard to your gate tonight. Now, finish telling me your story."

She sat down and took a sip of her drink. "Where did I end before the phone rang?"

"Something about Melinda resembling Ken Weber."

"Oh, yes." She folded both hands around her glass. "Have you ever noticed the unique color of Ken's eyes? They're an unusual sharp, clear green. The twins have a touch of that in their eyes, but they take more after Sandy." She frowned. "That's the first thing I noticed about Melinda. Those intense green eyes. They're almost identical to Ken's, but I'd swear they even stand out more." She shook her head. "They look into your very soul. So cold and calculating. I get a chill down my spine every time I see her."

Tom listened intently. "I'd like to meet this woman. In fact, I'd like to arrest her."

Angie jerked her head around. "Why?"

Tom raised a brow. "Because she's blackmailing you."

She sighed. "Well, she hasn't succeeded in getting any money out of me yet. But what I'm anxious to see are the results of the DNA tests, which should be ready any day."

"Where does this Melinda live?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure I could find out from Marty."

Tom stood and went to the bar. "What if the tests show Bud isn't the father? How will Marty take the news after all these years of him supporting the girl?"

Angie pushed some loose strands of hair behind her ears. "She'll be shocked. She truly believes Bud is Melinda's father."

"What do you think happened that night?"

"Ken was still single at the time, and quite a party boy. Bud and I even suspected that he might have a thing for Marty. Nothing serious, mind you. Ken had his sights set higher than a housekeeper, that's for sure." She stood and hugged herself as she paced. "Bud supposedly walked Marty to the cottage and I think he passed out on the foot of her bed. When he didn't return to the house, Ken went looking for him and found them both conked out. He took advantage of the moment and left."

Tom nodded. "It's plausible. But I think your best bet is to wait for the test results." He wagged a finger at her. "However, let me warn you. I'm not going to stand by and let that woman blackmail you, whether she's Bud's daughter or not."

Angie sat back down on the couch. "Don't worry. I won't let it happen." She reached for her drink and accidentally knocked it off the table, shattering glass across the floor. "Oh, shoot."

Tom picked up the broken pieces as she dashed to the kitchen to get a towel. When she didn't return immediately, he followed and found her staring out the kitchen window. He stepped beside her and squinted into the darkness. "What's the problem?"

"Marty's letting someone in the gate."

"How can you tell?"

She pointed to the control panel. "The light's blinking."

Tom flipped off the kitchen light. "Go clean up the spilled drink. I'll be right back." He pulled his gun and slipped out the back door.

*****

It took a second for Tom's eyes to adjust to the darkness, but a full moon helped guide him around the garage and avoid the trash cans as he made his way to Marty's back door. He ducked behind some bushes and waited until the vehicle came to a rolling stop at the cottage's entrance. When he heard the car door slam, he peered between the hedges and could make out the silhouette of a woman hurrying to the front door. He slipped his gun back into the holster, relieved it wasn't Ken Weber who had talked Marty into opening the gate.

He waited until the woman went inside before inching his way toward a large window that overlooked the side yard. The window stood open a few inches and a lacy curtain covered the glass. He could clearly hear and see the occupants inside.

Caught by surprise when the beautiful young goddess turned toward him, Tom gulped. Her silk dress adhered to all the right curves. Long blond hair cascaded down her back and her green eyes glistened in the light of the lamp. This had to be Melinda. Angie had described her perfectly. And, yes, she resembled Ken Weber. He watched her pull a cigarette from her purse, but before she could put it to her lips, Marty's thick voice rumbled through the opened window.

"Do you have to smoke in my house?"

Melinda threw her hands up in disgust. "Oh, God, Mother. You're so old fashioned."

Tom flattened himself against the wood siding as Melinda cranked the window out about six more inches. She then whirled around and flopped down on the couch. "When are you going to stop drinking? That's worse than smoking. At least I don't lose it when I smoke." She flipped the ashes into a saucer her mother had placed on the coffee table.

Marty stood at the end of the couch, staring at her daughter. "Why are you here?"

Melinda looked at her and narrowed her eyes. "Because, if you're not telling me the truth, I'm in deep trouble."

Marty finally sat down on the chair opposite her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you absolutely sure that Mr. Nevers is my father?"

"Of course I'm sure. Why do you ask such a silly question?"

"Mom, I'm not blind. I don't look anything like Bud Nevers. What if the DNA test doesn't match?"

Her mother waved her hand in the air. "Bud Nevers is your father. But why are you so worried?" Then she frowned thoughtfully and sat forward in her seat. "What did you say to Mrs. Nevers?"

Melinda got up and paced. "I warned her to continue the money so I could get my mother out of this hole, or I'd ruin her life."

Marty groaned and covered her face with her hands. "Dear God."

"Well, it's the truth," the girl said, turning in a circle with her arms held out. "Look at this place. It's tiny, like a hole."

"I love my little cottage. It's all I need. I want to live here forever, but now I'll probably have to leave because Mrs. Nevers knows you're my daughter." She let out a loud sob.

Melinda whirled around and glared at her. "What! You told her?" She clenched her hands into fists. "You stupid...." She closed her mouth tightly and her eyes glistened with anger. Flopping down on the couch, she shoved her hair back and lit another cigarette.

Marty continued to sob. "She came over here to check on me when I didn't show up for work. I had the letter you'd sent to Mr. Nevers on the telephone stand and she spotted it." Wiping the tears from her eyes with the hem of her apron, she hiccuped and continued. "She put it all together herself. I really didn't have to tell her anything."

Melinda blew smoke through her nose, then snuffed out the cigarette. "Oh, great. Just great. This puts a different light on things."

Marty made a strange sucking sound and stared at her daughter. "What do you mean?"

Melinda grabbed her purse and stood. "Now I've got to rethink my approach. This changes everything." With that, she stormed out and slammed the door.

Tom stayed hidden behind the bushes as Melinda spun the car around and sped off toward the gate. He shook his head and sighed, as he watched her speed over that crest. Thank God, he thought, the gate has an electric eye and would automatically open when a car approached it from the inside.

He slipped back around the cottage and into the back door of the big house. When he entered the kitchen, Angie frowned with concern. "You were spying, weren't you?"

"Uh huh." He took her arm, led her back to the study and mixed them another round of drinks. "Be more careful this time," he said with a wink, handing her the glass.

"So, who showed up?"

"Melinda."

Angie stiffened. "Did you get a good look at her?"

"I certainly did. You're absolutely right. She looks nothing like Bud. However, that doesn't mean a thing. Bud could have the green eye genes in his family background."

She slumped back on the couch. "You're right."

He leaned forward. "However, Marty definitely thinks Bud's the father."

Raising a brow, Angie looked at him. "Yes, go on."

"Melinda's worried about the DNA test, even though Marty swears Bud's her dad. But what really upset Melinda is that you know too much." Tom put his elbows on his knees, holding his drink with both hands. He stared at Angie with a solemn expression. "I want you to be very careful dealing with this woman. She could be dangerous."

Angie frowned. "True, she gives me the chills. But do you think she'd actually do me bodily harm?"

Tom nodded, never taking his eyes off her face.

*****

Melinda cruised down the freeway. The wind blowing in the car window whipped her hair around her head. Not bothering to push it out of her face, she narrowed her eyes and spoke out loud through gritted teeth. "Damn you, Mother. You and your drunken binges. All it does is loosen your tongue. Of course, I'm surprised you held it this long. At least I'm older now and can handle things on my own." She slapped the steering wheel with her hand. "Why didn't I think of this DNA thing myself. Once it's proven that I'm Bud's, I won't need Mrs. Nevers. Everything will just automatically be mine after she's dead." A sly grin curled the corners of her mouth.

Chapter Twenty

Early the next morning, Angie received a call from Dr. Parker.

"I have the results of the DNA testing. Do you want to hear them over the phone or would you like to come down to the office?"

Angie's heart pounded against her ribs. She glanced around, making sure Marty or Sandy weren't within earshot. "Tell me now, Dr. Parker. I've got to know."

He cleared his throat. "Melinda Smith is not Bud Nevers' daughter."

She closed her eyes and whispered. "Thank you. Could I get a copy of that report?"

"I'll have it waiting for you."

A wave of relief flooded her soul. After hanging up, she sat down at the bar and rested her head in her hands for several minutes. Just as she took a deep breath, Sandy strolled into the kitchen. Angie smiled. "Good morning. You must have slept well. You certainly look better than yesterday."

She returned a faint smile. "Yes, I did. But I feel bad about leaving you and Tom last night."

Angie waved a hand at her. "Don't worry about it. I had some business to deal with and you needed your rest." She busied herself with folding the newspaper, then laid it aside. "Let's get you a bite to eat."

"Just a bagel and cup of coffee will be fine."

After serving Sandy, Angie poured herself a cup of coffee and joined her.

Sandy put both hands on the table, palms down. "I've been so selfish and preoccupied with my own problems, I haven't asked how you're doing."

"I've been dealt a few surprises. But, you needn't worry yourself about them."

"I wish you would let me worry about them. Then maybe I wouldn't dwell on my dilemma so much."

Angie studied her face, wondering if Sandy could handle the idea of Melinda being Ken's daughter instead of Bud's. Of course, it was only a suspicion, but she wouldn't want her to find out through other sources. She struggled with the decision for several moments before speaking. "Say you were in my shoes and found out that Melinda wasn't Bud's daughter, but you had an inkling of who the father might be. What would you do?"

Sandy wrinkled her forehead and looked at Angie. "I thought I heard the phone ring. Was it Dr. Parker?"

Angie nodded.

Sandy got up, crossed in front of Angie and looked into her eyes. "What are you trying to say?"

Angie reached out and grasped Sandy's arms. "Remember, this happened a long time ago. Melinda is twenty-three years old."

Her eyes wide, Sandy stepped back out of Angie's reach. "Are you telling me that Ken is the father?"

Angie stood and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Now take it easy Sandy. Ken and Bud were together the night Marty conceived, and the doctor just confirmed Melinda isn't Bud's daughter. So, it stands to reason that she could be Ken's."

Sandy gasped and shook her head. "But it could have been any one of the hands working around this place."

"No. You have to see the girl. Her resemblance to Ken will shock you."

"How do you know Bud and Ken were together?"

"Marty told me."

Sandy covered her mouth with her fingers. Tears slid down her cheeks. "I don't believe this."

Angie glanced at her watch. Marty wouldn't be back to the house for a couple of hours. She took Sandy's hand and led her into the kitchen nook. "Sit down. I might as well start at the beginning and tell you everything."

Marty wanted to speak with Mrs. Nevers alone, but found it difficult with Mrs. Weber there. Finally, she called on the phone and invited Angie to the cottage so they could talk in private. She tidied the place until it glistened. The smell of cleanliness filled the air. Also, she'd not touched a drop of booze for two days.

When the knock sounded, Marty said a silent prayer, crossed herself and opened the door. She smiled broadly and stepped to the side. "I'm so glad you could make it, Mrs. Nevers. Please, come in."

Angie frowned. "You sounded so concerned. Is everything all right?"

"Yes. I needed to talk with you. Please sit down." She motioned toward the couch. "What would you like to drink?"

"A glass of iced tea would taste wonderful."

Marty disappeared into the small kitchen and returned with two large glasses filled with crushed ice, tea and lemon slices. She handed one to Angie. As she sat down in a chair opposite Angie, she confided, "I didn't want to talk to you about my personal problems in front of your friend. That's why I invited you to come here." Marty felt the tension between them and fought the emotion tugging at her insides.

Angie sat stiffly. "So what is it?"

Marty studied Angie's solemn face, then sighed. "It's Melinda. I talked to her and she told me how she'd threatened you." The tears welled despite her struggle to hold them back. "That girl is causing me pain and grief. I've had nothing to do with her actions. I'm very happy here and love the cottage. I want to live here forever." Her voice caught and she wiped the spilled tears from her cheeks. "But she's getting me in trouble with her evil ways."

Angie scooted to the edge of the couch, holding the large tea glass with both hands. She stared into Marty's eyes. "Are you afraid I'm going to kick you out?"

Marty nodded, her chin trembling.

"We've been together for twenty-five years. Unfortunately, it's turned into twenty-three years of deceit."

Daubing her eyes with a tissue, Marty whispered. "I know."

"However, you've been by my side through thick and thin. I can't write that off and just forget it."

"Thank you, Mrs. Nevers." Her voice shook. "But, I'll never forget Mr. Nevers telling me after Melinda came to the party, that once he told you who she was, that you'd probably fire me."

Angie's eyes widened. "Bud told you that?"

"Yes ma'am."

Angie walked slowly to the window and remained silent for several long moments before she turned around and looked at Marty. "I guess Bud and I didn't know each other as well as I thought."

Marty frowned. "I don't understand."

"Never mind. It's not important." She came back to the couch. "What is important, is this thing with Melinda. This girl is headed for big trouble. We both have a lot invested in her. You gave birth and Bud used our money to make sure she had a good upbringing. However, the DNA results have come in."

Marty stiffened and stared at her. "And what did they say?"

Angie met her stare. "Melinda is not Bud's daughter. So, I'm going to turn her over to Detective Tom Hoffman."

Marty almost dropped her glass, her eyes wide with astonishment. "Mrs. Nevers, I don't understand. Those tests have to be wrong. There's no one else who could be her daddy."

"Yes, there's another possibility. Ken Weber." Then Angie explained how she figured the conception had taken place.

Marty clutched her bodice and her face turned ashen.

"Think about it, Marty. Imagine your daughter's eyes. I've thought about it a lot waiting for the test results. And as Melinda grew older, I suspect Bud noticed her resemblance to Ken."

Marty covered her face with her hands and sobbed profusely. "Dear God! Ken must have raped me after I passed out. I always wondered why Bud was fully dressed, lying on the end of my bed. All those years Mr. Nevers had been paying for Ken's daughter."

Angie put her glass down on the table. "We can't worry about that now. We need to concentrate on your future. Right?"

She nodded her head fiercely.

"I want you to listen to me carefully."

Marty wiped her face and looked into Angie's eyes. "I'm listening, Mrs. Nevers. I'll do anything you say."

"I don't want Melinda on this property again. If I find out you've opened the gates to her without my permission, then you and she may leave together. That girl is going to cause nothing but heartache and pain wherever she goes. I want no part of her."

After Angie left the cottage, Marty sat in the chair with tears streaking down her cheeks. How could she have not noticed Melinda's resemblance to Ken Weber? Had she blocked the possibility from her mind, feeling secure about Bud taking care of Melinda and seeing to it that she had the best of everything? Even Melinda had been concerned that Bud might not be her daddy.

Marty finally collected herself and carried the two tea glasses to the kitchen. Her hand trembled as she reached into the cabinet and brought out the bottle of vodka.

Chapter Twenty-one

Tom pulled the small tattered black book that Angie had found in Bud's desk from his pocket. She had given it to him to examine, as she couldn't make any sense out of it. He thumbed through it and noticed the figures appeared in an elementary code that he could probably break within a few hours. He assumed the unmarked dollar amounts and dates he'd spotted throughout were the record of payments Bud had made for Melinda's support.

Also, one of the officers had found a photo album in Bud's office during the search and had inadvertently placed it in the evidence box. He brought it back to his office and studied the pictures.

Now that he knew the history of Bud's supposedly illegitimate daughter, and had seen her, he realized that several of the pictures were Melinda at different ages. Bud had probably kept the album squirreled away at the office so Angie wouldn't get curious. But who would question the child in the pictures? She could have been anyone's. The photos didn't indicate a relationship between the child and Bud. Even if Angie had looked through the album, he could have easily lied, because she believed anything Bud told her. Tom let out a long sigh, removed a few of the pictures and slipped them into his pocket. He placed the album and the black book into his desk drawer.

*****

Tom stopped at the gate of the Nevers' property and chatted with the officer. No one had been in or out so far today. The officer announced Detective Hoffman over the call box, then waved him through.

When Angie opened the door, Tom swallowed hard. He'd never seen her look so beautiful. Her royal-blue outfit looked new and made her blue eyes glisten and dance. She had her hair pulled back and twisted into a French braid, laced with a small silver rope. Small diamond earrings set in silver hearts dangled from her ears.

"Tom, it's so good to see you. Please come in."

"You certainly look nice," he stammered. "Are you going out?"

She smiled. "No. I just felt like I needed a little perking up, hoping someone would come by and appreciate it."

He spread out his arms and said. "Well, I'm here and I appreciate it."

Laughing, she took his hand and led him into the study where Sandy Weber sat on the couch reading a magazine. Angie reached over and touched her shoulder. "We've got company."

Sandy glanced up and gave him a faint smile. "Good evening, Tom."

He surveyed her face for some hint of how she was feeling, but saw nothing. Her eyes looked glazed and her face reminded him of a glass-faced doll with a frozen expression. She appeared on the verge of collapse. He wondered if Angie had noticed and decided he'd mention it to her later. He clapped his hands together. "Have you ladies had dinner?"

Angie shook her head. "No. Marty is preparing it now."

"Damn." He snapped his fingers. "I should have called. I'm sure you'd have enjoyed getting out of the confines of your luxurious prison for awhile."

Sandy shot him a look of fear. "No, we're fine. It's wonderful here."

Tom shrugged and glanced at Angie. She patted him on the back. "We'll get together another evening. You join us tonight."

He grinned, thinking of Marty's delicious cooking. "I'd love to, but are you sure Marty's prepared for a guest?"

"I'll check." She quickly excused herself and headed for the kitchen, then returned within a few seconds. "No problem, she said. Especially since it's that nice Mr. Hoffman."

Tom rubbed his hands together in anticipation and went to the bar. "Okay, ladies. What can I fix you?"

Angie worked a loose wisp of hair back into her braid. "Before we indulge, I need to speak with you privately for a few minutes. Let's go into the living room."

Tom followed her, and when she spilled the story of the report from Dr. Parker about Melinda not being Bud's daughter, he understood the tension he felt in the household. She also related how she'd told Sandy that Melinda could well be Ken Weber's daughter.

"How'd she take it?"

She shook her head slowly. "Not well. I debated about telling her, but couldn't stand the thought of her hearing it from some stranger."

"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."

She turned and looked at him. "Except for Ken Weber."

Tom frowned. "How would he know unless Bud told him? Marty certainly wouldn't have disclosed anything, especially with Bud paying the bills."

"Ken told me he'd known since the day Marty discovered her pregnancy. But he never told Sandy until I asked him about Melinda."

Tom remained silent for a few moments, then asked, "When Bud told you there were problems at work, did he ever give you the impression that he didn't trust Ken?"

Angie waved a hand in the air. "Never."

Chapter Twenty-two

Sometime during the still dark hours of the early morning, Angie awoke with a start. She lay quietly, listening to the sounds of the house. What had awakened her? It sounded like a door slamming. Suddenly, she heard a car engine revving. Jumping out of bed, she rushed to the window and peered out.

Frantically, she waved her arms and screamed. "Sandy. No!" Throwing on her robe, she raced down the stairs and out the front door. Hugging the porch post, she watched the car crest the hill and disappear.

She dashed back inside and called the gate, but the officer informed her that the car had already driven through. Trembling, she keyed in the number of Tom's cell phone. A sleepy voice came over the line.

"Yeah."

"Tom, this is Angie. Sandy just left in her car."

He suddenly sounded more alert. "When?"

"Just now. I didn't wake up in time to stop her."

"I was afraid she'd do something like this after seeing her last night. She's teetering on the edge."

Angie shoved wisps of hair out of her face. "We've got to find her before Ken does."

"Did she leave a note?"

Glancing at the stairwell, her gaze traveled toward the guest room. "I don't know. Hold on." She dashed up the stairs two at a time. When she reached the room and flung open the door, she gasped. Everything had been left in perfect order. With the room right next to hers, how could she not have heard Sandy moving about?

A white sheet of paper propped against a perfume bottle on the dresser caught her eye. She snatched it up and read aloud as she hurried down the stairs.

Dear Angie,

I've worn out my welcome. It's time for me to leave so you'll have time to handle your own problems. You don't need me to add to that burden. I'll be all right. Thank you so much for all you've done.

Love, Sandy

She grabbed the phone and read the note to Tom. "What are we going to do?"

"It doesn't give a clue where she's headed."

"Maybe she went to her mother's."

"I'd like to believe that. But I'm afraid she's gone to confront Ken. And that could be dangerous."

Angie leaned her forehead on her hand. "Don't you think she'd be afraid to go back home?"

"She's not thinking rationally. Unfortunately, at this point in time, she wants to satisfy herself by finding out the truth."

"But Ken could kill her."

"I want you to stay by the phone in case she tries to call. I'll get in touch with you later."

"Tom, wait." She grabbed the edge of the counter. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see if I can find her."

The line went dead. Angie dropped the receiver back on the cradle. Her gaze drifted upward to the large photo adorning the wall. She'd always loved that picture of her, Bud, Ken and Sandy, standing in front of the new Nevers building. They all had their hands on the huge pair of scissors that cut the ribbon, celebrating the opening of the new building. That was ten years ago. Bud had his arm tightly around her with an ecstatic expression on his face. His dream had finally come true.

Tears clouded her sight and her chest tightened as the memories flooded her mind. At that instant, the phone rang. Her senses jerked back to the present and she grabbed the receiver. "Sandy!"

"No, it's Tom. I've just circled the Weber house. No sign of her. Is she still driving that dark green BMW?"

"Yes."

"Can you think of anywhere else she might go at this time?"

Angie rubbed her temple and glanced up at the clock. "Not at five thirty in the morning."

Tom's voice dropped. "Hold on. There's a car coming down the road. I think it's Sandy. It is. I'll talk to you later."

The phone clicked, then a dial tone droned. "Tom! Hello. Don't hang up. Damn!" Exhaling loudly, she dropped the phone, ran upstairs and hurriedly dressed.

*****

The first set of headlights flashed through Marty's bedroom, causing her to roll over and groan. But fifteen minutes later, when the second set lit up the room, she stirred from sleep. She squinted at the clock. "What the hell's going on at this ungodly hour of the morning?" she mumbled.

She went to the window and parted the curtains. Seeing only the taillights of a car disappear over the hill, she shrugged into her robe while shuffling out onto the small porch. Looking toward the big house, she noticed that Mrs. Weber's car had disappeared. The light in the garage hadn't turned off yet and she could see that Mrs. Nevers' car was also gone.

"Oh dear," she said aloud. "Looks like there's been some sort of an emergency."

She dressed quickly and ran over to the big house where she found the kitchen ablaze with lights. Hurrying up the stairs, she discovered Angie's robe and gown on the floor. "Yep, something's happened," she muttered, heading back down the staircase. The first thing that popped into her mind were the bits and pieces of conversation she'd picked up from the two women about Mr. Weber. She'd already figured the Webers were having marital problems, but from the tidbits of gossip she'd heard from other housekeepers, there was more. It seemed Mr. Weber had gotten himself into a heap of big trouble. What kind, she'd never understood. But something had taken place this morning, and she'd bet whatever it was, wasn't right.

While making biscuit dough, she thought about how much better she felt about her own situation than she had in months. Marty knew she had to make a very hard decision soon. Either go with her daughter and live a life of hell, or live in peace on the Nevers' property in her beloved cottage. The latter would be her choice if Mrs. Nevers gave her the option. She'd probably lose the love of her daughter. However, she pondered if Melinda really knew what love meant? As much as she hated to believe it, her only child had turned evil.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the bar while the biscuits baked. Finding out that Bud wasn't Melinda's daddy shook had shaken her up a bit. Were those tests that accurate? It amazed her how technology had soared in her short time on earth. Why hadn't she observed the mean streak in Melinda earlier? Mr. Nevers wasn't mean. He wouldn't have hurt a fly.

But Ken Weber proved to be a different type of man. She'd noticed his mood swings when he visited the Nevers' home, especially after he'd been drinking. Before Sandy came into the picture, he'd flirted with her several times, trying to entice her into bed. However, she knew he'd never settle for a housemaid and would only be using her for his own desires, so she turned him down.

How had Ken managed sex with her that night without her knowing? She must have been out cold with too much champagne.

Tom pulled to the side of the road about a half block from the Weber's home, where he could still see the front of the house. He turned off his lights and watched. Sandy had stopped, but not mustered up the courage to actually get out of the car. In his mind's eye, he pictured her fear. He prayed she'd chicken out.

The faint light of the dawning day made it possible for him to make out the silhouette of her head. Her gaze appeared fixed on the front door. How could he prevent her from entering her own home?

Suddenly, Angie's Cadillac screeched around the corner and came to a sudden halt behind Sandy. She jumped out and headed for the driver's side of the BMW. At the same moment, the porch light came on and Ken Weber stepped out the front door. Tom hit the gas pedal and lurched forward.

Sandy and Angie were standing outside the car on the driver's side, watching Ken as he came to the edge of the property and stopped. He folded his arms across his chest. "About time you decided to come home."

Angie gripped Sandy's arm and whispered. "You can't go into that house. You might not come out alive."

"I've got to find out the truth or I'm going to lose my mind." She yanked away from Angie and started around the car.

Tom ran up behind her. "Just a minute, Sandy."

Ken stared at him as he put his hand out toward his wife. "Why don't you and Angie stay out of our lives?"

Tom grabbed Sandy's arm and pulled her out of Ken's reach. "There's a restraining order out on you, Mr. Weber," he lied. "You're to stay away from your wife."

Ken's arm dropped to his side. "That's ridiculous. I don't believe it. Even if it's so, nothing says she can't come to me."

Sandy stood quietly listening.

"I think she just wants to ask you some questions. She can do that from this side of the fence." Tom glanced at Sandy. "Wouldn't that be possible?"

Ken's eyes narrowed. "You son-of-a-bitch, you have no right to do this."

"I'm a police officer, Mr. Weber, protecting a citizen. Now, Mrs. Weber, go ahead and ask your questions."

Angie quietly made her way around to Sandy's other side and slipped an arm through hers. "Go ahead, ask him."

Sandy raised her gaze to her husband's face. "Why didn't you tell me that Melinda is really your daughter?"

Ken shook his head slowly. "Sandy, Sandy, who's been feeding you all this crap? Bud told me a long time ago about Melinda."

"But the DNA tests proved she's not Bud's. And you were there that night."

His head jerked up; his eyes had changed into a stormy green. "What?" He glanced at Angie.

"That's right, Ken. The tests proved that Melinda is not Bud's daughter. Marty told me you and Bud were the only men there that night."

His gaze darted from Angie to Tom and back to Sandy. He tossed his hands out in a gesture of defeat. "Look, honey, it's no big deal. It happened long before we met."

Angie and Tom held on to Sandy as she started to move forward, tears flowing down her cheeks. "What do you mean it's no big deal. She's your daughter. Why didn't you tell me?"

He hooked his thumbs in his hip pockets. "How the hell did I know which of us was the father? Bud figured she belonged to him, so he paid her way. She's a grown woman now, so why get all steamed up over something that happened over twenty years ago?"

"Why are you embezzling money from the company?"

Ken threw his head back and laughed. "Who told you that lie?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Did you kill Bud?"

His hands clenched into fists and he stepped forward. "How the hell can you accuse me of that, Sandy? He was my best friend."

She flinched, then straightened her shoulders. "What about Ryan Conners?"

Suddenly, Ken's demeanor changed. His hands clenched into fists, his eyes spit fire and his jaw tightened, making the veins stand out on his neck. He glared at his wife. "Who's feeding you these crazy ideas? He must have been skimming off the company and Bud caught him. Conners probably killed Bud. And I have no clue who killed him. Ask Tom, he's the detective."

Tom could tell it took all of the man's strength to hold himself from lurching across the fence.

Then Ken punched his thumb into his own chest. "So, now I'm the prime suspect?"

Tom shook his head. "No one's accused you of anything."

Ken pointed his finger at his wife. "Well, goddammit, tell her that. She thinks I'm a murderer and embezzler."

"Your abuse has caused questions in her mind."

Ken's face softened and he stared at Sandy. "I promise. I'll never hit you or the girls again. I've just been through a lot with Bud's death and the company going downhill. Please, bear with me. I want my family back home."

Sandy sucked down a sob. "Ken, I can't. You've hurt me several times and each time you tell me you won't do it again."

Tom noticed how Ken kneaded his hands together as Sandy spoke. When she finished, he abruptly headed for the house. As he reached the front door, he turned and stared at his wife. "Maybe you better not come home." He disappeared inside and slammed the door.

Chapter Twenty-three

Sandy's sobs echoed through the air. Tom and Angie caught her as she crumbled to the ground.

"Let's put her in my car," Angie said, struggling to get Sandy back on her feet. "You drive her car to my place. I certainly don't want it left here. I'll bring you back to get yours."

"Sounds like a good plan," Tom said, opening the Cadillac door and helping Sandy inside.

Back at the house, they escorted her to the guest room, then Angie put Marty in charge while they went to get Tom's car.

Tom frowned as they passed the gate. "I hope she doesn't try to leave again."

Angie patted her purse. "I have her keys. Even with Marty in charge, I didn't want to take any chances."

Tom smiled. "Good thinking."

"I'm going to have Doctor Parker examine her. I'm worried she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

"I noticed her demeanor last night and wanted to talk to you about it. She appeared to be escaping into another world."

"She's been that way all week. Thank God, we found her before Ken persuaded her to go inside." Angie shuddered. "I've never seen him look so mean."

Tom remained silent.

*****

Later that day, Angie sat at her desk in the kitchen, fingering the report she'd picked up for Melinda at the doctor's office and mulling over the idea of how she would approach the girl about Bud not being her father. She didn't know how to contact her and hesitated about asking Marty just yet.

Deep in thought, she jumped when the buzzer at the gate went off.

She pushed the intercom on the phone. "Yes."

"Mrs. Nevers, this is Officer Kelley. A Melinda Smith wants in. Is that okay?"

Angie sighed. This isn't what she had in mind. But Melinda appeared to be hot-headed and aggressive. And Tom even thought her capable of physical violence, so why agitate the girl? She reached across the counter and pulled her purse toward her. Running her hands inside, she felt the barrel of the Barretta and wrapped her fingers around the cold metal.

The gravelled voice of the officer brought her back into focus. "Are you still there, Mrs. Nevers?"

"I'm sorry. Yes, let her in."

Just as she slipped the gun into her pocket, she flinched at the voice behind her.

"Who's coming?"

Angie had her hand on her heart when she swung around. "You startled me." She tried not to show her shock at Sandy's appearance. Still in her robe, her eyes looked like sunken marbles in desert sand. "How are you feeling?"

"As good as can be expected." Then she pointed out the kitchen window. "Someone just drove up."

Angie glanced out and saw the white Toyota. "Yes. It's Melinda."

"She frightens you, doesn't she? That's why you put your gun in your pocket?"

She stiffened, realizing Sandy had seen her gesture. "The woman unnerves me a bit, that's all. I'll feel more secure having my gun close." She noticed how Sandy's eyes shifted nervously when the doorbell chimed. Putting a hand on her shoulder, Angie spoke gently, "Why don't you go on upstairs and get dressed while I talk to her."

Sandy jerked away. "No. I'm not going to leave you. I want to meet this child of my husband."

Angie furrowed her brow. "Are you sure you're up to this? She's not a charming person, regardless of how beautiful she appears. I'm not going to tell her who we suspect is her father, so don't say anything. Obviously, Marty hasn't told her or she wouldn't be here."

The doorbell rang again. She patted Sandy's shoulder and hurried toward the entry. "Hello, Melinda. Come in." When she stepped into the entrance hall, Angie waved a hand toward Sandy. "This is my friend, Sandy Weber."

Melinda acknowledged her with only a quick nod, then turned back to Angie. "Have you heard from the doctor?"

"Yes. The results came yesterday. I have a copy of the report for you."

Angie picked it up off the hall table and handed it to her. She watched Melinda read. The blood drained from the girl's face and her eyes flashed.

She threw the paper at Angie. "I don't believe this. It's a goddamn lie. Bud Nevers is my dad. Mother told me so. You've paid the doctor off so you wouldn't have to deal with the thought that your husband had an illegitimate daughter running around. You're all a bunch of rich bastards."

Angie didn't expect this type of reaction. "Melinda, how can you say that? Why would I want the doctor to falsify the report? If you don't believe it, go have it done again by your own doctor."

Her green eyes bore into Angie. "You bitch!" She then bolted out the door and raced toward the cottage.

"Melinda, wait!" Angie rushed after her, scared at what the girl might do to Marty. By the time she reached the cottage, Melinda had already knocked Marty to the floor and was about ready to hit her again.

Angie pulled the gun from her pocket. "Stop, Melinda!"

The contorted expression on the girl's face looked like a strange and evil mask. But when she glanced toward Angie and spotted the gun, her arm dropped to her side.

She threw back her head and laughed. "You going to shoot me, Mrs. Nevers? I can just see the headlines. Wife kills dead husband's illegitimate daughter." Then she turned her attention back to Marty, who'd crawled into a sitting position, wiping the blood from her split lip. "You lied to me," she screamed. "My own mother lied to me."

Angie stepped forward. "That's enough, Melinda. Your mother is innocent. She didn't know either until the test results came in."

Melinda reached down and yanked Marty up by the arm. "Then who is my father? You're bound to have some idea."

But before Marty could answer, Angie gripped her gun with both hands and pointed it at the girl's heart. "Melinda! I said that's enough. Get off this property and never set foot on it again. If you give your mother or me one ounce of trouble, I'm turning you over to the police. Do you understand?"

Melinda backed slowly toward the door, her eyes spitting green fire and her stare never leaving the gun. "You haven't heard the last of me," she hissed.

Angie shot a glance at Marty. "You okay?"

Marty nodded through tear-rimmed eyes.

Her gun still drawn, Angie dashed out the door and followed Melinda. But just as Melinda opened her car door, two shots rang out. She crumbled to the ground.

Whirling around, Angie screamed. "My God, Marty! No!"

"She's evil," Marty sobbed. "Not fit to live."

Angie yanked the gun from her hand, and raced toward Melinda's fallen body. Sandy had reached the girl first and glanced up at Angie. "She's still breathing, but there's so much blood." She looked down at her hands and shivered, raking them across her robe, leaving long red streaks.

Angie tossed the guns on the car seat. "Go call 911, I'll see what I can do."

Examining Melinda, she found a scalp wound, causing profuse bleeding, but it didn't appear deep. The other bullet had entered her shoulder. At that moment, Sandy ran back with a handful of towels and a blanket.

As the two women worked over Melinda, Marty stood over them, sobbing. "Is she going to die?"

"She's still alive. But I can't tell how badly she's hurt," Angie said, gently laying a towel under the girl's bleeding head. When the sirens sounded, Angie quickly picked up her gun and slipped it into her pocket, leaving the other one on the car seat. It flashed through her mind that her fingerprints would be on that gun, but hopefully only on the barrel where she'd grabbed it from Marty.

*****

Tom heard the 911 call come over the radio and recognized Angie's address. He threw the light on top of the unmarked car and made a U-turn in the middle of the street. His only thoughts were that Ken had somehow made it onto the property. He hated to think what might have occurred. If anything had happened to Angie, he'd have Ken hung.

A strange feeling of relief surged over him when he came to a grinding halt beside the paramedic's wagon and saw Angie tucking a blanket around a body on the gurney. He bolted from the car and ran to her side. "Thank God, you're all right. What the hell's going on?"

"Marty shot Melinda."

He quickly glanced over the group and spotted two officers putting Marty into a patrol car. He hurried toward the crying woman. "Marty, why?"

"She hurt me once too often, Detective Hoffman. I raised an evil girl," she said, climbing into the car. "I couldn't take it any more."

After the ambulance took off, carrying Melinda, the police car followed.

Tom stood with his fists on his hips, watching the vehicles disappear over the crest. He remained staring for several seconds before he headed back toward Angie and Sandy.

Angie gathered up the blood-soaked towels, then started toward the house, but suddenly dropped the towels on the ground and grabbed Sandy's shoulders. "Sandy, what is it?"

Sandy stood staring down at her blood-covered robe. Her body shook with such intensity that Angie had trouble holding on to her. "Tom, come here. Hurry. Help me."

Tom dashed over and grasped Sandy's stiff but trembling body. He tried to move her, but she just stood, rigid and shaking. Garbled words tumbled from her mouth.

"She's having some sort of a breakdown," Angie cried. "We better get her to the hospital."

Finally, Tom just picked her up and carried her to his car. Angie jumped into the back seat and cradled Sandy in her arms. Tom only slowed long enough to tell the officer at the gate to close it and not allow anyone in or out until they returned.

After admitting Sandy to the hospital, Angie paced. Tom motioned for her to come and sit beside him in the waiting room. "Sandy's going to be all right. She's just under a lot of stress."

Angie sat down and took his hand. "I know. But I'm also concerned about what's going to happen to Marty."

Tom turned toward her. "I'm worried about you. How much more of this can you take? You haven't even had time to yourself to grieve over Bud's death. And the news I have to tell you is only going to make matters worse."

Chapter Twenty-four

Angie's gaze followed a nurse, scurrying through the hospital waiting room. Then she turned a worried face toward Tom. "I'm almost afraid to ask what news could make matters any worse."

Tom took both her hands, squeezed them and looked deep into her eyes. "Some of the lab tests have come back on the autopsy of Conners. The examiners found traces of cloth fiber under his fingernails, which they feel came from a dark-gray wool material. They studied the suit Conners had on and the ones confiscated from his home, but found no match. This morning they're going through Ken Weber's clothes."

"Oh no," she said.

He waved a hand in front of her stunned face. "Now, they might not find a thing. But I have to tell you that Ken Weber is now one of our prime suspects."

She dropped her head into her hands. "Oh, Tom. I just can't believe he'd do such a ghastly thing."

"You'd be surprised what people do for money."

"But Sandy said they had no financial burdens."

"We've run a check on Ken. He's been involved in some heavy horse-race gambling and lost almost thirty thousand dollars in three months. I also ran a check on Ryan Conners after I saw how his family lived in poverty. We discovered he'd invested heavily in the stock market and lost his shirt."

Angie hugged herself. "Are you trying to tell me that these two men were in this together?"

"It's forming a picture."

Suddenly, they were aware of a shadow standing over them. Angie and Tom lifted their heads to confront a sneering Ken Weber.

"You two appear mighty cozy with your heads together. I received a call from the hospital that Sandy has been admitted. I should have known you two were behind it."

Angie stood. "I resent that, Ken. Sandy is sick from the stress you've caused."

He turned on his heel and left.

Angie frowned as she watched him stop at the nurse's station. "If he gets in to see her, it will blow her away for sure."

"Maybe I can prevent that." Tom said, hurrying down the hall.

He reached Ken, who had been forced to wait behind some people questioning the nurse. He motioned him aside.

"Look Ken, as I told you earlier, there's a restraining order on you. If you insist on seeing your wife, I'll have to arrest you."

Ken's face turned crimson. "Why in the hell don't you butt out of my life?"

Tom looked into the searing green eyes. "Because, you're a danger to your family."

Ken leaned toward Tom and hissed, "Get your damn police out of my house. They've been there all morning. I don't know what you're after, but you're not going to find anything." Ken turned on his heel and stalked out of the unit.

Tom returned to find Angie engrossed in a deep conversation with a doctor. He stood to one side for several minutes until she finished and joined him.

"That's the doctor who operated on Melinda."

"Is she going to be all right?"

"Yes. The wound to the head only grazed the scalp. The one in her shoulder did nick the bone, but exited cleanly. They think she'll heal rapidly and be back to good health within a few weeks."

"That's good news. Especially for Marty."

Angie glanced around. "How did you get Ken to leave?"

"I told him there's a restraining order out on him and I'd arrest him if he tried to see Sandy."

She looked puzzled. "Did he fall for your lie again?"

Tom shook his head. "It's not a lie this time. Judge McArthur signed one for me after I described Sandy's situation."

Angie sat down on one of the chairs and wiped her hand across her forehead. "I think I should call the twins. And I better get a lawyer for Marty."

"You look exhausted," he said, sitting down beside her. " Why don't you get some rest first. And what will you tell the girls anyway?"

Her eyes clouded with disdain. "I'll let them know about their mother's condition, but encourage them to stay with their grandmother. It wouldn't be advisable for them to come home."

"They definitely couldn't stay with Ken. They'd end up at your place and you don't need the added responsibility."

She forced a smile. "The girls are no trouble. If they insist on coming home, they can stay with me."

Tom looked perplexed. "I still don't think that's a good idea."

At that moment, a nurse walked up. "Are you Angie Nevers?"

"Yes," she said jumping up.

"Mrs. Weber would like to see you."

Angie hastened to Sandy's room, but stopped at the door and observed how relaxed Sandy appeared, lying there with her eyes closed. Not wanting to startle her, she approached the bed slowly.

"Sandy."

She opened her eyes and gave a faint smile. "Hi. Guess I gave you quite a scare."

Angie returned the smile. "Yes, but you certainly look better now."

"How's Melinda?"

"She's going to be fine."

"I'm thankful for Marty's sake." Then she grimaced. "I saw Ken in the hallway. I don't want him here. I kept my head turned with the sheet pulled up so he couldn't see me. Then I saw Detective Hoffman talk to him and he left. What did Tom tell him?"

"Tom had a restraining order put on Ken. He's not allowed to see you."

"Please tell him 'thank you.'"

Angie noticed Sandy struggling to keep her eyelids open. She touched her shoulder. "You get some rest, I'll talk to you later."

Tom and Angie left the hospital and went to the courthouse, where Angie posted bail for Marty and drove her home. They brought her up to date on Melinda's and Sandy's conditions.

*****

Ken Weber pulled up in front of his house and found a woman with two small children standing at his gate.

"Hello, can I help you?" His stomach knotted when she lifted her eyes to search his face and he recognized her.

"Hello, Mr. Weber?"

"Hello, Mrs. Conners." What a pathetic-looking woman, he thought. No wonder Ryan stayed at the office all the time. Who'd want to go home to her and those two filthy children? "I'm very sorry about your husband, Mrs. Conners, but there's nothing I can do. The company lawyer is handling all the financial papers. You'll have to talk to him for any guidance."

Her sunken eyes stared at him. "That's not what I'm here about, Mr. Weber."

He frowned. "What is it then?"

"My husband left me a letter. Told me to talk to you about anything I needed and you'd see to it that I would be well taken care of." Her voice darkened. "If anything happened to him."

His chest tightened as he narrowed his gaze on the woman. "I don't understand what you're saying."

"You see, I know what the two of you were doing. My husband described it all in his letter. He said if you didn't honor my request, I should go to the police."

Ken glared at her. "I'd like to see that letter. Why don't you come inside and we'll discuss this further."

"No. My husband also warned me not to be alone with you at any time. You frightened him, Mr. Weber. And Ryan didn't scare easily. I have a copy of the letter for you. But don't underestimate me either. I have the original in a sealed envelope in the hands of a lawyer. If anything should happen to me or my daughters, it will be opened." She handed him a long white envelope, picked up one of the young girls and balanced her on her hip, then took the hand of the other and walked away. Suddenly, she stopped and turned around. "I'll let you know what I need."

Tapping the envelope on his hand, Ken watched her until she disappeared around the corner. He'd definitely miscalculated the shrewdness of Ryan Conners. And now his wife.

Ken headed straight for his bedroom when he got inside the house, anxious to see what the police had confiscated. When he slid open the closet door, he hit the wall with his fist. "What the hell! They've taken all my goddamn suits."

He then walked through the house and out into the back yard, where he noticed they'd messed with the dead coals of the barbecue. "What'd they think I did? Burn something?"

Slumping down on one of the lounges, he stared into the pool. He'd made a big mistake in turning his family against him. But the pressure of their accusations and questions had almost sent him over the edge.

He went into his home office and sat down at his desk. He slit open the envelope. The letter consisted of five pages. When he finished, he sat back in his chair and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "That son-of-a-bitch had balls, more than I ever gave him credit for," Ken muttered aloud, wadding the letter into a ball.

Chapter Twenty-five

A grim expression shadowed Detective Maxhimer's face as he left the local Goodwill store carrying a bundle under his arm. His hunch had paid off after hitting several charity outlet stores and coming away empty-handed. This one even had a record of a Mrs. S. Weber having donated several bags of clothes and miscellaneous items. Fortunately, the store had gotten behind schedule in sorting their items and several pouches stood untouched in the store's holding area.

Cliff went through several bags without success until he came to the last one. Mid-way through the sack, he found a neatly folded dark gray sports coat. It showed little wear and no damage. A seam tag bore the inscription: "Made especially for Ken Weber by Amos Jackson, Tailor." "Pay dirt," he mumbled. "You made your first mistake, Ken Weber."

Knowing there had been drastic advancements in DNA testing, he figured the results would be delivered within a few days. Meanwhile, he'd keep a man on Weber. He didn't trust him. Never had. Also, he worried about Mrs. Conners and those two pitiful little urchins. If Autumn knew anything, their lives might be in danger. Even though he'd questioned her several times, she seemed nonchalant about her husband and his work. However, that didn't mean she wasn't shrewd. He'd checked on her background. She and Ryan had met in college. Both carried high grade averages and had graduated with honors. They never belonged to any social clubs in college but a counselor remembered them as participants in rallies and marches against the establishment.

One classmate remembered them as loners, strange or weird. The woman's solitude worried him. If he could find a legal reason, he'd also have a man watching her and those two kids. Since the death of her husband, he'd made it a daily routine to cruise by her place and check for signs of activity.

Back at the station, Cliff wrapped the gray sports coat and sent it to the lab with priority instructions. Now, he'd play the waiting game.

*****

Angie stared out the kitchen window toward Marty's cottage as she waited for Tom to come out of the study. Marty had wanted to fix them dinner, but Angie refused her offer and insisted she go rest.

Her mind wandered over the events of the long day and she suddenly felt exhausted. Yet, Angie didn't want Tom to leave. She'd grown dependent on him for support through these trying times and needed him tonight. Then it struck her that he must be starving. It had been hours since either of them had eaten. One way to keep him with her a little longer would be to start preparing dinner. Immediately, she grabbed an apron from the drawer and opened the refrigerator. By the time Tom joined her in the kitchen, she had meat frying, a sauce cooking and spaghetti boiling.

"Hey, what's going on in here?" Tom asked, eyeing the stove.

"Well, I thought it time we had some nourishment. It's been a long day."

"You got that right," Tom said.

"Any news from the station?"

"A little. I talked with Cliff before he left to go home. He's making a few strides on his own, but nothing of importance at the moment," he lied, not wanting to load her down with more heavy stuff. "Can I set the table?"

"Sure." She pointed at the cabinet where the dishes were stacked.

Angie smiled to herself, noting that he did a darnn good job of putting the utensils where they belonged. She put the spaghetti and sauce into bowls and placed them on the table.

After dinner, Tom pushed back his plate and patted his stomach. "You don't know how nice it is to eat something besides fast food and frozen entrees."

She laughed. "I can tell you enjoy a home-cooked meal, even though it's nothing special."

"I loved every bite. And to show my appreciation, I'll do the clean up."

"We'll do it together."

As they worked, Tom reached around her to get the dishcloth when she accidentally turned into his arms. He caught her from stumbling and their eyes met. Her heart skipped a beat. Tom backed away clumsily, releasing her arm.

"Uh, sorry. I wanted to wipe off the table. I sort of made a mess."

He quickly ran the cloth across the table. Angie stood frozen to the spot, staring at him. The electricity she'd felt between them kept sparking inside her.

Tom turned around, one hand full of bread crumbs, the other clinging to the dishcloth, and looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Am I not doing this right?"

Feeling her face grow warm, she shoved loose wisps of hair behind her ears and quickly turned toward the sink. "No, you're doing fine." What's the matter with me, she thought. Bud's only been gone a couple of months and you're feeling like a giddy young girl on her first date. Get hold of yourself. This man's a good friend and you need him. Don't push him away with your silliness.

Tom put the last plate into the dishwasher and closed the door. "Thanks, Angie, I really enjoyed the dinner. I'm going to get out of here and let you rest. You know how to reach me."

She started to protest but felt it best not to push her luck. "Glad you stayed. I'll talk with you tomorrow after I get Sandy back here. I hope she'll settle down and be her old self again."

He waved his hand. "Don't expect miracles. The woman has a lot to face."

"You're right," she said, walking him to the door.

*****

On the way to his place, Tom found himself thinking not only about what Cliff had reported, but of Angie's reaction to their touch in the kitchen. Did he imagine it or did she too feel the electricity between them? Her stunned reaction told him something. But what? How should he interpret it? God only knows how badly he wanted her to feel the same as he did. But those were hopeful dreams. Proceed with caution, remember she's recently widowed and her emotions are very fragile.

He promised Cliff on the phone that he'd drive by the Conners' place on his way home. The news he'd received from his right hand man disturbed him. Cliff seldom made a misjudgment on a case, and when he told him how concerned he felt over the Conners family, it bothered Tom. Even though Cliff had a man on Ken, he worried that somehow he might get past him. Would Ken really harm Conners' wife and children? Tom shook his head. "God, that's a scary thought," he mumbled.

When he turned the corner and headed toward the Conners' house, his heart leaped into his throat. He'd swear Ken Weber's BMW, identical to Sandy's except for its color, a light green, had just pulled away from the Conners' house. Tom came to a screeching halt, dashed up the sidewalk to the front entry, and pounded on the front door.

When he received no answer, he called out. "Mrs. Conners, this is the police. Open up."

He heard the faint padding of footsteps. Then the door opened only as far as the security chain allowed.

"Yes, what do you want?"

Autumn Conners had a dark shawl wrapped around her shoulders. The smell of rancid cooking oil, mixed with dirty diapers, drifted out the crack in the door, penetrating Tom's nostrils. He stepped to the side without losing sight of the woman. "Did Ken Weber just leave here?"

"No one has visited me." With that, she shut the door and threw the deadbolt.

Tom walked with heavy steps back to his car. He felt the fatigue of the day taking over. He pulled away from the house and called Cliff on his cell phone. "I can't swear to it, but I think Ken Weber just paid a visit to Mrs. Conners. She's okay, but denied his visit."