Authors: Betty Sullivan LaPierre
"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."