Murder.Com (21 page)

     
"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."