Authors: Betty Sullivan LaPierre
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 Melinda, 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."
Cliff stared into space as he listened.
"I knew that company smelled too sweet."
Then he turned toward Tom.
"Your computer man gonna make it today?"
"Supposed to be there now.
I gave him clearance."
"Let's get over there."
Cliff stood and straightened his wrinkled coat. "It's going to be interesting to see what's locked up inside that computer."
The two detectives drove to the Nevers building and went straight to Bud's office.
Cliff pulled a chair over to the front of the desk where William Bird, the computer expert, sat transfixed.
His round-rimmed glasses were perched on the end of his nose as he stared at the monitor.
The printer hummed, spitting out one sheet of paper after another.
"Yes!" Bird uttered, smiling and glancing up at the two detectives.
"Just got the last one opened."
Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes and pointed at the printer.
"I'm printing them out as you suggested."
"So, how'd it go?" Tom asked.
"It's not hard to break open these files, but if someone uses a code or a series of steps to get in, it's tedious.
This man had about five different steps, but once I got the hang of what he did, no problem.
Just each one had different codes with some crazy little steps.
He probably taught himself.
I have to admit, though, he had a pretty good system.
Not just anyone would be able to do it.
But now that I've cracked them, I hope you're not going to leave this computer here with free access to anyone."
"I'll impound it immediately," Tom said.
Meanwhile, Cliff strolled over to the printer and began putting the papers in order as they finished.
He had quite a stack by the time the last sheet printed out.
He clipped them together and glanced at Tom.
"This will take some time.
I think we'll need an auditor next."
"Think we better alert the accountant?"
"Wouldn't hurt.
He might need a lawyer."
Tom turned to William Bird.
"Thank you for your work.
You'll receive a check within the next couple of weeks.
And anything that you might have read in these files is to be kept confidential."
Bird smiled.
"Don't worry, I don't read them, I only open them."
The detective walked him out the door, then motioned for one of the officers to come to the office.
"As soon as Detective Maxhimer is through, I want this computer and all its paraphernalia taken to the station immediately, and put under strict security."
Once the printing had stopped, Cliff motioned for the officers to come and get the equipment.
Tom had alerted the receptionist to call Ryan Conners, the company accountant, to meet them in the office.
A few minutes later, a small man with thick horn-rimmed glasses appeared at the doorway.
The glasses looked too heavy for the bony, thin face lined with serious frown wrinkles.
The right corner of his mouth twitched as he stood waiting, his arms folded in front of him.
Cliff finally stopped shoving papers into large envelopes and turned around.
He looked at the man from under the brim of his hat.
"You the accountant?"
"Yes sir, I'm Ryan Conners."
"Sit down, Mr. Conners.
I'll be right with you."
The man edged over to the chair and stared at the vacant desktop where the computer had once perched.
He crossed his legs and tapped his fingers on the wooden surface while watching Cliff stack the envelopes into a pile.
Tom came back into the building after seeing the equipment out to the police van.
He spotted Conners in the office.
Not wanting to take notes, he reached into his pocket and flipped on his voice-activated recorder before entering the room.
The minute Tom stepped inside, he said.
"Mr. Conners, I presume?"