Murder.Com (37 page)

     
"Yep, my thoughts exactly."

     
About that time, William Bird stuck his head inside the door, a big smile on his lips.
 
"I've cracked the code."

     
Both detectives jumped to their feet and followed him down the hall.
 
When they entered the room, Tom headed straight for the humming printer and sorted the sheets of paper.
 
He and Cliff sat down at the corner table and concentrated on the documents.
 
Bird continued to click the Print button.

     
Before long, with a grim expression, Tom glanced at Cliff.
 
"I think we've found our murderer."

Chapter Thirty-three

     
Cliff had put a rush on the analysis of the shawl and the results came in two days.
 
He scanned the pages quickly, then hurried down the hall to Tom's office and handed him the report.
 
"Your hunch paid off.
 
Ryan's blood and brain remnants were found on Autumn's shawl."

     
Tom shoved back his chair and shrugged into his jacket.
 
"Okay, let's go."
 
On the way down the hall, he told one of the assistants to get Child Services to meet them at the Conners' residence."

     
Autumn Conners, wrapped in a dirty blanket, sat huddled in the corner of her couch.
 
She stared at the officers taking her two children from the room as Detective Hoffman read her rights.
 
Then her gaze moved back to Hoffman, locking on his face.

     
"Do you understand your rights?"

     
She nodded.

     
"Would you like a lawyer present?"

     
Shaking her head, she squinted at him.
 
"Why do I need a lawyer?"

     
"You're going to be charged for the murder of Bud Nevers and your husband, Ryan Conners."

     
Her body jerked.
 
"That's crazy," she hissed.

     
For the first time, Tom noticed fear in her eyes.
 
"Your computer files prove that you and Ryan planned the murder of Bud Nevers."

     
Her eyes narrowed.
 
"You're only trying to scare me.
 
No one can open my files."

     
Cliff stepped forward with a sheet of paper in his hand.
 
"They've been opened, Mrs. Conners."

     
"I don't believe you.
 
You're lying and it won't work."
 
She turned her back to him and pulled the blanket closer to her body.

     
He began to read from the paper.
 
"Bud Nevers must die a death that looks accidental.
 
Ryan, make all computers at the company read the same, get rid of original records.
 
Lure Bud Nevers to the house, knock him out, inject him with phenobarb.
 
Wear latex gloves.
 
Make sure the Porsche's gas tank is only half-full, drive the car to the hill and push it over the cliff.
 
No evidence will remain on the burned body."

     
Autumn slowly shifted her eyes toward him, her mouth pulled down in a tight frown.
 
"How dare you.
 
Invading my privacy rights.
 
No one gets into my computer."

     
Cliff straightened his hat.
 
"Mrs. Conners, your technology is over five years old, which makes it obsolete in the computer world.
 
I'm surprised that you didn't realize that, since you claim to be so computer savvy."

     
"Why'd you kill your husband?" Tom intervened.

     
"I didn't," she said, hitting the sofa arm with her fist.
 
"He turned weak and couldn't stand the pressure.
 
When the police started questioning him, he caved in and shot himself."

     
"Why was the gun on his right side when he's left-handed?"

     
"He was ambidextrous."

     
Cliff stared at her.
 
"Explain why fibers from your shawl were under his fingernails and how his brain matter got splattered over the fabric.
 
The man's brains didn't leak out his ears at night, Mrs. Conners.
 
You shot your husband so he wouldn't squeal on you."

     
"Lies! Lies!" she screamed.
 
"And what have you done with my babies?"

     
Tom couldn't believe his ears.
 
"You should have thought about that a long time ago.
 
They'll be well taken care of, believe me.
 
Better than living in this pigsty."

     
Cliff motioned to the two officers in the room.
 
"Get her out of here and book her for murder."

     
"I'm not going to rot in prison."
 
She suddenly flipped back the blanket, exposing the barrel of a handgun pointed directly at Tom.
 
Before he could react, she let go with two shots.

     
Tom went down.
  
Before she could turn the gun on Cliff, shots echoed from every corner of the room.
 
Cliff and the officers had turned their guns on Autumn.
 
She slumped to the floor, dead, blood pooling from her body.

     
Cliff holstered his gun and knelt beside Tom.
 
While hunting for a pulse, he shouted into his cell phone.
 
"Officer down.
 
Need ambulance immediately."

*****

     
Angie paced back and forth in the waiting room while Cliff sat in the corner resting his head in his hands.
 
It had been three hours since they'd rushed Tom into surgery.

     
She stopped and looked at Cliff, then sat down beside him.
 
She grasped his wrist with trembling fingers and spoke in an agonized voice.
 
"Cliff, you saw what happened to Tom.
 
How bad did it look?"

     
He patted her hand and took a deep breath.
 
"Mean.
 
But, he's a tough bastard, he'll make it.
 
If for no other reason, he'll come through this for you."

     
She sighed and squeezed his hand.
 
"I need to tell him how much he means to me."

     
He stood and looked deep into her eyes.
 
"Do it as soon as you have the chance.
 
Then I know he'll make it."

     
She nodded.

     
"I'm going for some coffee.
 
Want some?"

     
"Yes, thank you."

     
After he disappeared down the hall, Angie leaned back in the chair.
 
Yes, she knew what Cliff had left unsaid.
 
She'd seen it in Tom's eyes when he looked at her.
 
Could he see it in hers?
 
Could it be possible to fall in love so soon after Bud's death?
 
Or was she on the rebound?
 
Was she strong enough to know the difference?

     
The pain of Cliff's words, only a few hours ago when he'd notified her about Tom getting shot, had surged through every fiber of her body.
 
She didn't even recall driving to the hospital.
 
Now the waiting was taking its toll.
 
"Dear Lord, don't let him die," she whispered.

     
She wiped the tears from her eyes just as Cliff turned the corner into the room, carrying two Styrofoam cups of coffee.
 
At the same moment, one of the surgeons pushed through the double doors, pulling off his mask and rubbing his forehead.
 
Angie jumped to her feet.

     
"How is he, doctor?"
 
Cliff asked.

     
"A lucky man.
 
No vital organs were damaged other than the spleen, which we removed.
 
But he can live fine without it.
 
Some muscle and tissue damage.
 
The bullet lodged in a rib, which probably saved his life.
 
So far his vital signs look good, even though he's lost a lot of blood."

     
"Thank God."
 
Cliff crossed himself and blinked back the tears of relief that welled in his eyes.

     
"When can we see him?" Angie asked.

     
"They'll be taking him down to recovery.
 
But it will be several hours before they put him in a room.
 
I'd suggest you go home and get some rest, then return in the morning.
 
We'll know more then."

     
Early the next morning, Angie stood at the entrance of Tom's hospital room for a few moments before she walked quietly to his bedside.
 
He looked so gaunt it made her heart race.
 
A nurse moved to the opposite side of the bed and emptied a syringe of medication into the intravenous bottle.
 
She checked the tubing that ran to the back of Tom's hand, then glanced up at Angie and smiled.

     
"He's so pale."
 
Angie said.
 
"Is he all right?"

     
"He's doing very well," she said, writing on his chart.

     
When Angie glanced down at Tom, his eyes were open, a grin curling the corners of his mouth.
 
"You're the most beautiful thing I've seen in hours."

     
She reached over and gently pushed a wisp of hair out of his eyes.
 
"How are you feeling?"

     
He took her hand.
 
"Like hell, until I looked up and saw this angel standing over my bed."

     
Angie leaned down and kissed his cheek.
 
"You look wonderful to me too."

*****

     
Two months later, Angie, Tom and Cliff gathered with Ken's family in the Webers' backyard.
 
Chickens grilled on the spit, flavoring the air with a wonderful aroma.
 
The twins were laughing with some of their friends on the opposite side of the yard.
 
Ken pulled a huge bottle of champagne from a covered container filled with ice.

     
"I think it's time to celebrate," he said.
 
"I'd like to make a toast to Tom and Cliff.
 
Not only for surviving, but for sticking by me through this mess."

     
All raised their glasses.

     
"Thank you," Tom said.
 
"Now I'd like to make an announcement.
 
I've just asked Angie to marry me and she's accepted.
 
We've set the date for three months from tonight."

     
Everyone cheered and congratulated the happy couple.

     
After the party, Angie and Tom left.
 
In the car, Angie asked.
 
"Whatever happened to the Conners' little girls?"

     
"You know, I figured one day you'd ask that question, so I've kept track of them.
 
You'll be happy to know, they've both been adopted."

     
Angie raised her brow.
 
"Together?"

     
"Yes."
 
He put his arm around her and pulled her close.
 
"Like us, at last together."

     
She smiled and snuggled her head against his shoulder.
 
"Never to be separated."

The End