“That’s what I told Kenny,” she answered. “I told him that for all he knew Sparks could have sent Berger to talk to Shockley.”

“Exactly.”

“There was more, sir. Kenny traced the break-in to a terminal in Sparks’s lab. By some process of elimination, Kenny had it figured out that it had to be Berger. He became frantic, very scared.”

“Obviously with good reason,” Marge said. “Why didn’t he report this to the police?”

“He said he didn’t have enough concrete evidence. And if he got the police involved without enough concrete evidence, he’d lose his job. That’s why he wanted to figure it out on his own.”

Belinda went quiet.

“Go on,” Marge said.

“That was it. Yesterday, he told me he wasn’t coming in tomorrow…that’s today. So I didn’t think twice when he didn’t show up for work.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But as soon as I saw your car pull up…”

She broke into sobs.

“I’m so scared! Am I being paranoid?”

Marge said, “Maybe you and your family should take a few days off until we have a better idea of what’s going on.”

“A few days off?” Belinda hugged herself. “And just what do I tell my husband? That my ex-lover was murdered because he discovered some medical fraud, and his discovery put my family in danger?”

Oliver said, “I don’t think you have to tell him that Kenny was an ex-lover.”

“Then how could I explain the reason why Kenny confided in me?”

Marge said, “Mrs. Sands, I don’t know how you should phrase your words to your husband. But I do know that taking a couple of days off makes sense if you care about your family’s safety.”

“Oh God!” She covered her face again. “Jesus is paying me back.”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s that personal,” Oliver stated.

Belinda looked up, dried her tears. “Oh well…” Her voice had taken on a resolved tone. “I’ll figure something out. I’ve lied before, I can lie again.”

22

Sorting through piles of broken glass. Like picking brambles from a briar patch, Webster thought. Sun rays hitting the shards, shooting rainbows of light that bounced off the furniture and walls, ceiling and floors. Might have been pretty except for the ravaged bodies and the blood spatter. He clicked off his cassette player and pulled a tiny sliver out of his arm. He said, “Think I can file for disability?”

Martinez was squatting, retrieving shards and putting them in a bag. “Are you bleeding bad?”

“If I squeeze hard enough, I reckon I could fill up a capillary tube.”

“Go for an artery, Tom.”