Authors: Betty Sullivan LaPierre
"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?"