“Sure will."
* * * *
Ken let out a long sigh as he watched Tom's car disappear into the darkness. He closed the door and went back into the recreation room where he poured himself a double scotch, then flopped down on the couch. After gulping half the drink, Ken let his gaze travel around the empty room. He set his glass on the coffee table and dropped his head into his hands. “Sandy, I need you and the girls. I promise never to hurt you again. Please come home."
* * * *
Tom hurried to his car and called Cliff on the cell phone. “Meet me at the office. The case is starting to break."
When Cliff arrived, he found Tom at his desk with the murder files piled in front of him. “What's the big rush?"
“I think we're getting closer to the killer."
“So you talked with Weber tonight?
“Yeah, he bared his soul. Made sense for a change."
“And you believe he's innocent?"
Tom held up a hand. “I'm not ruling him out. He may have just given me a convincing snow job, but it sure gave me some ideas for other avenues to explore. Since we've found nothing concrete on Ken, he just might be innocent.” Tom glanced at Cliff for the first time since he'd entered the office, and frowned. “Where the hell have you been? Looks like you went to bed in those clothes."
Cliff chuckled as he looked down at his rumpled pants. “I crashed on the couch when I got home, slept like a baby until your call came in. It sounded urgent, so I didn't bother to change. Who's going to see me at this hour? Maybe some perp we bring in off the street. And who gives a shit?"
Tom shrugged and stifled a grin. “Long as you don't smell."
Cliff sniffed at each armpit. “Nope, still sweet. So, what've you got in mind?"
Tom sat forward and told him Ken Weber's story, then explained his plan. When he finished, Cliff scratched his sideburns and leaned back in his chair.
“I think you've got something. When do we start?"
“First thing in the morning. We'll go through the Conners’ house again. We just did a walk-through after Ryan's death. This time, I want a thorough search done and some pertinent questions asked Autumn Conners. So get another search warrant. I don't want her coming back at us."
“And she damn well would,” Cliff said, standing. “With two little kids she'll be up early. So, I'll meet you here at six-thirty with warrant in hand."
* * * *
Angie and Sandy were curled up on each end of the couch watching a television program when the phone rang. Angie picked up the portable on the end table.
“Hello.” She shot a look at Sandy. “I don't know, Ken. I'll check and see if she wants to talk.” Covering the receiver with her hand, she glanced across the couch.
Sandy stood. “I'll take it in the kitchen.” Thirty minutes later, she came back into the study, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
Angie flipped off the television with the remote. “So, what did he have to say?"
“Tom went by there this evening after he left us. Ken talked to him for two hours and told him everything."
Furrowing her brow, Angie looked at her. “What do you mean, ‘everything'?"
“He hopes he convinced Tom that he had nothing to do with the murders of Bud or Ryan. And it is true that Ken was at home when both murders were committed. You even talked to him the night Bud disappeared. The night Ryan was killed, one of the twins got a good case of food poisoning. She stayed up most of the night vomiting. Ken and I took turns taking care of her until daybreak."
Angie reached over and grasped her arm. “Sandy, I've never believed Ken killed Bud. But I worried about it because of his behavior toward you, thinking maybe I didn't know the man like I thought I did."
“Thanks for your faith in him. To tell you the truth I had my doubts too. But now, knowing he's talked to Tom makes me feel a lot better."
“So what's he worried about?"
“He did take money from the company. But, he told Bud about it and promised to pay it back. Somehow, Autumn Conners found out and is now blackmailing Ken."
Angie jumped up. “What? Autumn Conners? How?"
She gave Ken a copy of a letter that she says Ryan left. The original is with a lawyer. It implies that Ryan and Ken were embezzling funds together. Ken says it's a lie, but he can't prove it now that Bud's dead. He swears he only took money once for gambling debts. But the letter instructed her to warn Ken that if he doesn't give her everything she wants, she's going to the police."
Angie shook her head. “I can't believe this."
“If there's some way we could prove that Bud knew about it and had given Ken an alternative, then it wouldn't be embezzlement. Otherwise,” Sandy choked on a sob, “Ken will probably go to jail."
Angie snapped her fingers and hurried to the computer.
Sandy jerked her head around and followed Angie. “What are you doing?"
“This might be a futile search, as I know nothing about accounting. But let's see if Bud entered anything in the books that might explain Ken's debt. Maybe between the two of us, we can spot it."
“I don't understand what we're looking at,” Sandy said, watching the monitor as Angie reviewed pages filled with columns of numbers.
“Original records of the company. It's a long story. I'll explain it later. Right now, pull up a chair and let's go through these entries."
“Good Lord, how many are there?” Sandy asked, scooting up a chair and watching Angie scroll through the pages.
“At least three years worth. Probably a jillion figures we'll need to decipher."
“We'll be brain dead by morning,” Sandy said, trying to get comfortable in the hard-backed chair.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-nine
When Tom walked into his office at six-thirty the next morning, he found Cliff, coffee cup in hand, staring out the window. “Good morning. You look ready to go."
Cliff raised his cup in a salute. “Want a cup?"
Tom checked his watch. “Sure, we have a few minutes."
Cliff filled a mug for him, then sat on the corner of the desk. “Really didn't sleep that well. You got me to thinking."
“I know what you mean. This case has taken on quite a twist."
“Let's just pray we're not too late."
“Got the search warrant?"
Cliff patted his jacket pocket. “Yep. Ready to go?"
Tom left his unfinished coffee on the desk. On the way out, he called for a backup.
The two detectives pulled up in front of the Conners’ home, followed by the black and white. Just as Tom started to ring the bell, the door flew open and his eyes met Autumn Conners’ furious glare. “What do you want now? You know it doesn't look good for you to keep coming around here. Neighbors are going to start wondering what's going on."
Cliff pushed on the door, but Autumn kept a tight grip, not letting it swing open. He pulled the warrant from his pocket. “Mrs. Conners, we're coming in whether you like it or not."
Her eyes narrowed, then her gaze dropped to the paper. “What's that?"
“A search warrant."
“You've already been through once, right after Ryan died."
“We need to look some more."
Her hand dropped from the door and she stepped back, clutching a gray shawl tightly around her shoulders. “I guess I can't stop you."
“I don't think it would be wise,” Tom said, leading the way into the house.
Cliff motioned for the two officers to stay outside until further notice.
The two little girls were playing on the floor, but moved to their mother's side. Tom noticed their sunken eyes and pale gray skin as they stared up at him. These children aren't healthy, he thought. No rosy cheeks on these two little girls. He wondered if they ever got out of this stinking house and played outside.
The mornings were chilly, yet there appeared to be no heat in the house. The floors were barren of rugs and he felt a draft on his feet. Yet, these two little
girls were barefooted. “We'd appreciate it if you'd keep the children in the living room while we search the rest of the house."
“What are you looking for?” Autumn asked curtly.
“Not sure, but we'll know when we see it."
Cliff had already meandered down the short hallway. Tom followed him into the master bedroom. The sheets on the unmade bed were dingy and looked like they hadn't been changed in some time. An odor of dirty clothes hung in the air. The two detectives glanced at one another. Cliff pointed to a closed door across the hall.
“You start there, I'll begin in here."
Tom tried the door, but it wouldn't open. He walked back to the living room. “Mrs. Conners, would you unlock this door?” he asked, pointing to the room.
Unsmiling, she scurried past him. “That's where my computer is. Why do you need to go in there? I keep it locked so the girls won't mess with it."
Trying not to lose his patience, he repeated firmly, “Open the door, Mrs. Conners."
Exhaling loudly, she pulled a key from her pocket and inserted it. She flung open the door and stared at Tom intently as he walked into the room. A much neater area, he thought. And it doesn't smell. Strange she'd keep this room cleaner than the rest of the house. Noticing only one computer, he glanced at Autumn. “Is this your personal computer?"
“Yes."
“Did Ryan use it too?
“Only once or twice."
“What do you use it for?"
Her mouth turned down in a frown. “I don't think that's any of your business."
“Mrs. Conners, I'm making it my business and even if you don't want to tell me, I'm going to find out anyway."
She threw her head back, turned abruptly on her heel and left the room.
Tom went to the computer and flipped it on. Several unnamed folders popped up on the desktop. He clicked on them several times, but none opened. The hard drive also contained several locked folders. It reminded him of Bud's computer. He stuck his head out the door and called, “Cliff, come here."
Cliff studied the screen and tried his hand at opening the files. When he didn't succeed, he called for Mrs. Conners. “Would you open these folders for us?"
She shook her head. “Certainly not, those are my personal files."
Cliff shrugged. “Okay, guess we'll have to confiscate this computer.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called for the police van.
Autumn Conners’ eyes narrowed to slits. “How dare you. My computer has nothing to do with your murder investigation. I'm trying to get a job and you'll ruin my chances if you take it."
“Then make it easy for both of us.” Cliff pointed at the screen. “Open them."
She made a motion as if spitting at Cliff. “Go to hell.” With that, she took her two children and went outside. He ambled into the living room and watched through the window as she sped down the street in her new BMW. The man tailing her pulled out from an alley half-way down the block.
Cliff went back into the computer room, removed his hat to scratch his head, then slapped it back on his head. “Man, if looks could kill, I'd be dead. That is one mean woman."
While Tom removed the plugs from the back of the computer, Cliff searched the cabinets and packed any disks he found into a box. “Well, well, well, look what we have here."
Tom stopped and glanced down at the tissue-size box Cliff pointed to. “What's that?"
“Micro X-AM, unisize (6-8 1/2)"
“What the hell is that?"
“Latex Examination Gloves, Style 888."
Cliff pulled a clean plastic bag from his pocket and knelt down in front of the cabinet, carefully pushing the box with a pencil until it slid off the shelf into the bag. “She sure as hell didn't use these for cleaning purposes."
Tom smirked. “Yeah, that's damned obvious."
When the van arrived, the detectives put the officers to work, loading the computer and paraphernalia into the van while they completed their search of the house.
Cliff finished going through the kitchen and walked back to the master bathroom where he found Tom, wearing latex gloves, examining containers in the opened medicine cabinet. His expression grim, he seemed to be studying one large bottle for several seconds.
“What is it?” Cliff said, squinting to read the label.
“Phenobarbital."
Cliff raised his brows. “Who's the prescription for?"
“Season Conners. I'm assuming that's one of the little girls. She might have a seizure problem."
“Damn,” Cliff said. “I wonder if those kids are quiet because of medication. The bottle's almost empty. When was it prescribed?"
Tom gave him a knowing look. “The day before Bud died.” He removed a plastic bag from his pocket and carefully placed the bottle inside.
Cliff took the bag and held it up. “Let's hope the goddamn bottle is covered with fingerprints."
* * * *
Sandy lay on the couch with her eyes half-closed. The women had taken turns going through the files, jotting down entries that looked suspicious so they could have Tom, Cliff or the auditor decipher their meanings.
Suddenly, Angie shouted. “Sandy, I think I've found something!"
* * * *
Autumn slowed down as she came to a stop sign. Her insides trembled with anger. But she mustn't lose control. Keep cool. A bunch of dummy cops invading her privacy. Did they think for one minute they'd be able to open her files on the computer? In college she'd stunned them all with her knowledge of the technology. Even Bud Nevers had taken her idea and used it. But he never paid her enough for its worth. Big deal, a little check each month for whatever they sold. She'd tried to tell him she could work at home and do lots of things for them on the computer, but he vetoed that idea. He wanted his employees at the big building. Said it helped morale and made for one big happy family.
What the hell did he know about family? His prissy little wife in a big mansion, surrounded by a big wall and guarded gate. Housekeepers and garden muckers to keep the place nice. Well, what they needed were a couple of kids to drive them nuts.
She glanced in the rear-view mirror at her two little girls in their car seats. “Ain't that right, my little ragamuffins?” Both girls nodded and laughed. “Well, you just wait, Mama's going to see to it that we don't live like scum forever. I've got it all planned and no one's getting in our way. Your dad was a chicken, but we didn't need him anyway. Mr. Weber will help us out.” A sly grin curled the edges of her mouth. She glanced back into the mirror again. “Do you little munchkins like our new car?"
“Yeah, mommy, it's really pretty,” they said in unison.
Suddenly, she noticed the car behind her. Her eyes narrowed. “Damn tail. Hope he enjoys going to McDonald's for breakfast."
* * *
Chapter Thirty
Cliff followed Tom into his office. “Think you can get that computer whiz to help us again?"
Tom nodded as he picked up his messages. “No problem. I'll get right on it. But first,” he waved one of the slips of paper, “I want to return John Graves’ call."
“I'll be right back.” Cliff headed down the hall to the men's room. When he returned, Tom had just hung up. Cliff closed the door and pulled a chair up to the desk. “So what'd he want?"
“To let me know that the company would be willing to take on the Nevers auditing case for twenty-five thousand dollars."
Cliff raised his brows and let out a whistle. “What are they going to do, use gold pens?"
Tom grinned. “No, but it would involve Holmes & Goode going to each of the companies that did business with Nevers and collecting their invoices so they could compare them to the entries in the records. Very time consuming and costly."
“Yeah, that would definitely take time.” Cliff stuck his little finger in his ear and wiggled it. “But you know what still bothers me?"
“No, what?"
“How the hell did Bud's computer get changed? Did Weber know his didn't have the
original records in it? Both those guys had separate lines into their offices. Whoever changed them had to know something about computers and how to get into them."
“Good question. Bud's could have been changed the night he was murdered. Think I'll give Ken a call.” Suddenly, Tom got up and went to a file where he pulled out a long white envelope.
“Something clicked, huh?” Cliff said, his mouth twitching.
Tom pulled out what looked like six credit cards. “Found these in Ryan's desk drawer. I just figured they were keys to his office and they change the code on them about every six months. I didn't think a lot about it until just now. Bet a couple of these would fit Bud's and Ken's office doors."
Cliff frowned. “Yeah, but I'm sure the codes were changed after the murder. Any idea who does the work?"
Studying the cards, Tom slid one over to Cliff. “Yeah, there on the bottom, KeyTech.” Tom pulled out the phone directory and found the company. “Couldn't be easier. They're located right downtown on Balsom Avenue.” He quickly noted the address on a slip of paper.
Checking his watch, Cliff stood and put out his hand. “Give me the address and those keys. I've got time to get there before they close. Call them. Make sure the boss stays around in case I get into traffic. While I'm gone, give Weber a call."
Tom picked up the phone as Cliff bounded out the door.
After notifying KeyTech, Tom placed a call to Ken Weber.
“Hello, Ken. This is Tom. I need to ask you a couple of questions."
“Sure, shoot."
“I know you have the accounting files on your computer at work. Do you recall seeing an ABC Wafer Company listed?” Tom could hear Ken repeating, “ABC Wafer...."
“You know Tom, it sounds familiar, but I don't remember seeing it."
Tom raised an eyebrow. “But you said you knew about the dummy company?"
“Yeah, but I didn't know what it was called."
“Okay. I understand. Before Ryan's death, did you ever notice any changes in the accounting system?"
“I have to really study those files. Concentrating on rows of figures is not my thing. If there were any changes, I never spotted them."
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