Free Murder.Com by Betty Sullivan LaPierre Page A

But Bud never made any derogatory or negative statements about the young man.   In fact, he complimented him shortly before he left.   Told me that the kid had gone through the books with a fine-tooth comb and pointed out some areas where they could update their bookkeeping."
          Her statement piqued Tom's interest and he made a note in his notebook.   "Anything else off the top of your head?"
          Angie tapped her chin with a finger.   "No.   Not at the moment.   But if I think of anything I'll let you know."   Then she gazed at Tom in silence until it made him uneasy.
          "What's bothering you?"
          "Do you actually think someone at work killed Bud?"
          Not wanting to comment on that subject, Tom stood and glanced at his watch.   "We don't know, Angie, but I'm meeting Detective Maxhimer at Bud's office.   Take care of yourself.   I'll call tomorrow."
          Stunned by Tom's implications, she slumped down on the couch, forgetting to accompany him to the door.   Until now, she'd thought the murderer would have been a stranger, like Melinda.   But, no.   It had to be a man.   A woman the size of Melinda would have had a hard time struggling with Bud's limp body.   That is, unless she had an accomplice.
          Angie rose and hurried upstairs.   She snatched the letter out of the drawer and sat down on the edge of the bed near the phone.   Spreading the paper out on the bedside table, she dialed the number Melinda had written.   The phone rang and rang.   Just as she started to hang up, a man answered.
          "Hello."
          The voice didn't sound familiar.   She could hear faint tinkling music and the bustling sounds of many people.   "May I ask to whom I'm speaking?"
          "Were you calling someone here at the mall?   I don't see anyone standing around waiting."
          "Which mall?"
          After he told her, she slowly hung up, a plan forming in her mind.   She'd be at that mall tomorrow night.   She'd go early enough to research which phone had this number, and then she'd wait nearby.
     
    *****
     
          Tom pulled up to the Nevers building.   It never ceased to amaze him how fast Cliff could get a search warrant.   The building had already been cordoned off with yellow tape and the parking lot held few cars.   He walked into the front reception area, slowing his pace when he saw   Ken Weber grinding his fists into his hips and glaring into Cliff's face.   A standoff seemed to be taking place between the two men.   He didn't know if he wanted to get involved, so he hung back just within earshot and listened.
          Detective Maxhimer pointed his finger at Ken.   "Mr. Weber, I'm now in charge here.   I'll do what I think is necessary.   A man's been murdered and it's my job to find his murderer."
          Ken's green eyes shot fire.   "Well, how the hell do you think I can conduct business if the building is closed and the police are running all over?"
          "I think you'll find a way to manage things.   It shouldn't take more than two days to thoroughly search the premises.   If it takes longer, we'll go into the weekend and be through by Monday morning."
          Weber turned on his heel and charged back toward his office.
          Tom stepped up to Cliff.   "Got a problem?"
          Cliff poked his finger in the air toward Ken's office.   "That's one hell of a stubborn man.   He doesn't like us around at all."   He shook his head and frowned.
          "What's eating you?"
          "He puzzles me.   He doesn't seem to miss his partner.   I haven't heard one word of remorse come out of his mouth."
          Tom glanced down the hall where Ken had departed.   "Some people show grief in different ways."
          "Did you speak with Mrs. Nevers?"
          "Yeah.   She told me Bud hired a college business major for the summer and the kid drove him crazy."