Murder.Com (9 page)

     
Tom shrugged on his jacket and the two detectives left the station in an unmarked car.
 
They headed for the Nevers Computer Technology building.
 
Cliff had already sent a couple of officers to stand guard over Bud's office.
 
The young receptionist stared wide-eyed when the two detectives entered the door.
 
"Can I help you?" she asked in a trembling voice.

     
They both flashed their badges, sending her into a flurry of action.
 
She yanked off her headset and hurried down the hall.
 
Within a few minutes Ken Weber stood rigidly before them.

     
He gestured down the hallway toward Bud's office.
 
"I don't appreciate those two officers coming into our complex and taking position in front of Bud's office without an explanation.
 
My whole staff is in an uproar.
 
I called the police station but no one would tell me anything.
 
I'd be most obliged if you'd let me know what's going on."

     
Tom stepped forward.
 
"Sorry for the inconvenience, Ken.
 
But we're securing Bud's office.
 
We'll be removing his files and anything else that we need for the murder investigation."

     
Ken stared at them in disbelief.
 
"Did you say murder investigation?"

     
"Yes."

     
"Dear God."
 
Ken leaned against the wall and rubbed his hands across his eyes.
 
"Why the hell would anyone want to kill Bud?"

     
Tom reached up and patted Ken's shoulder.
 
"I know this whole ordeal has been quite a shock to you and your staff.
 
But we have to get on with the investigation."
 
Tom introduced Detective Maxhimer.
 
"Could we speak to you in your office?"
 
After shaking Cliff's hand, Ken led them down the corridor.

     
Tom sat on the chair in front of the desk while Detective Maxhimer took a seat against the wall and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his thighs, his hands hanging loose between his knees.
 
"Mr. Weber, please tell me what happened on Saturday."

     
Ken cleared his throat.
 
"I've already gone over this with Tom."

     
"I know, but I want to hear it."

     
Weber related again how after the foursome had played golf, he and Bud had stayed to discuss a business deal for about thirty minutes before parting ways.

     
Cliff's eyes never left Ken's face.
 
"Is it the same four men every Saturday?"

     
"Most of the time, but if someone can't make it, we'll pick up another fellow at the clubhouse."

     
"What about the group on that morning?"

     
"The usual four."

     
"Do the other two men work at Nevers?"

     
"No."

     
"I'd like their names, addresses and phone numbers."

     
"No problem."
 
He buzzed his secretary and had her bring the information.

     
Maxhimer took the list, pushed back his hat and studied Ken.
 
"Tell me about Bud's demeanor that day.
 
Was he upset, agitated?
 
Did he seem to have something on his mind?"

     
Ken shrugged.
 
"Well, he didn't golf well.
 
If that tells you anything.
 
But otherwise, he seemed fine."

     
Tom intervened.
 
"You said that afterwards you and Bud discussed business.
 
Did you talk at the golf course, or come back here to the office?"
 

     
"Oh no.
 
We just discussed a contract and what terms we wanted to put into it after the game.
 
Pretty routine.
 
Bud seemed in a hurry.
 
Said he was going to take a quick shower before leaving."
 
Ken lowered his head and stared at his clenched hands resting on the desk.
 
"That's the last time I saw him."

     
Cliff observed Ken's expression as he questioned him.
 
"Did Bud normally take a shower before he went home?"

     
Ken's mouth twitched as he thought for a moment.
 
"Not always.
 
I guess it all depended on whether he and Angie had something planned.
 
And we were running about twenty minutes late."

     
"Did he mention any plans to you?"

     
"Nothing that I recall.
 
But I know he always tried to save Saturday afternoons so he and Angie could do something together."

     
"Anybody see you and Bud talking?"

     
Ken waved a hand in the air.
 
"Probably.
 
That place is always packed on Saturday.
 
People going in all directions."

     
"Did you notice anyone loitering nearby while you spoke with Mr. Nevers?"

     
He shook his head.
 
"No.
 
But I didn't pay that much attention either."

     
"Do you know if anyone talked with Mr. Nevers after you did?"

     
"I have no idea."

     
Detective Maxhimer stood.
 
"Thank you for your time.
 
I may have to ask you more questions later."

     
Ken nodded, stood and watched the detectives leave his office.

     
Tom stopped midway down the hallway and snapped his fingers,
 
"I forgot to ask him something."

     
Cliff waved.
 
"Okay, meet you in Bud's office."

     
Tom knocked on the door, stuck his head inside and found Ken staring out the window, obviously deep in thought.
 
Tom cleared his throat.
 
"Excuse me."

     
Ken jerked around.
 
"Yes?
 
What do you want now?"

     
His gruff tone of voice took Tom aback.
 
"I need the name of your accountant and your audit company."

     
Ken's hands clenched into fists at his side.
 
"Ryan Conners is our head company accountant.
 
Our auditors are Hames & Goode Audit Co."

     
Tom wrote the names in his notebook.
 
"Thank you."

     
Ken rubbed his chin, then looked sheepishly at the detective.
 
"I'm sorry, Tom.
 
My nerves are raw.
 
And this has caused quite a ripple throughout the company.
 
I have a lot on my mind.
 
The secretary can give you the phone numbers and any other information you need."

     
Tom nodded.
 
"Thanks, Ken."
 
He backed away and closed the door.
 
On his way to Bud's office, he also asked the receptionist for the name of the cleaning crew.

     
Angie lay in bed, unchecked tears streaming down her cheeks.
 
Marty watched over her like a mother hen.
 
She finally coaxed Angie out of bed and into a warm bath.
 
She stood outside the closed bathroom door, clenching her hands in front of her.
 
"Mrs. Nevers, I don't know what to do to help you.
 
You should talk to Dr. Parker or even Mrs. Weber.
 
She's called several times and wants to see you."

     
Angie lay back in the tub and closed her eyes.
 
"Later, Marty, later.
 
Just let me be for awhile.
 
I need some time alone."

     
Marty started to leave the bedroom just as the phone rang.
 
She picked up the receiver on the bedside table.
 
"Nevers residence."
 
Her back stiffened.
 
"What the hell are you calling here for?" she hissed.
 
"Don't you ever ring this number again."
 
She dropped the phone back on the cradle and glanced toward the bathroom door.

Chapter Eight

     
It had been three weeks since Bud's funeral, but Angie still struggled with daily activities.
 
This morning, she'd made up her mind to get up and start the day right.
 
After her bath, she stood in the middle of the bedroom with a towel encircling her body and a turban securing her hair.
 
Her mind seemed to be in a fog.
 
No more tranquilizers, she vowed.
 
Time to get a grip on her volatile emotions.
 
She felt it wouldn't take much for her to slip over the edge.

     
She glanced in the mirror and grimaced.
 
Her eyes seemed dull and makeup couldn't hide the dark circles.
 
Crossing over to the closet, she stared at the clothes inside.
 
Everything hanging there reminded her of Bud.
 
He'd never failed to make some sensual or teasing comment on so many of her clothes.
 
She searched through the outfits and settled on a recent purchase of a soft pink lightweight

sweat suit.

     
Her lawyer had been bugging her about the legalities of Bud's death and they needed to be taken care of as soon as possible.
 
She just hadn't had the heart nor the energy to move into that avenue, but this morning she made herself go to the wall safe.
 
As she pulled out the insurance policy and will, a CD dropped to the floor.
 
She picked it up and studied it for a moment.
 
It had no label.
 
Strange, she thought, but shrugged it off at being some song Bud had recorded and wanted to keep, so she tossed it back into the safe, definitely not wanting to deal with that at this time.
 
She tucked the papers into a small briefcase, planning to drop them off at the lawyers sometime today.

     
After securing the safe, she took a deep breath, shoved back her shoulders, and silently ambled down the steps, running a hand along the smooth banister.
 
She stopped at the kitchen door.
 
Marty stood facing the window with the phone pressed against her ear.
 
From the arch in her back, she appeared upset.

     
"No," Marty hissed.
 
"You can't do that.
 
I won't permit it."
 
Suddenly, she turned and spotted Angie at the doorway.
 
Her face paled.
 
"I'll talk to you later."
 
Visibly shaken, she faced Angie.
 
"Mrs. Nevers, I didn't hear you come in."

     
"You look upset.
 
Is something wrong?"

     
"I'm having a run in with a bill collector.
 
They're trying to overcharge me on my credit card for a sale item."
 
She waved her hand in front of her.
 
"Now don't you go worrying your head over me.
 
I've got it under control."

     
"That's good."

     
Marty pulled out one of the chairs at the breakfast nook.
 
"Come in here and have a seat.
 
It's a clear day and the view of the valley is beautiful.
 
I'll fix you a bite to eat.
 
I know you're hungry."

     
Angie didn't move.
 
"Just a sandwich.
 
Don't think I could handle anything heavy.
 
While you're fixing it, I'll go get the mail."

     
The mailbox stood on the road, outside the gate.
 
Normally, Angie walked it, but today she didn't feel like it, so she climbed into her car and headed over the crest.