No Fault of Mine

Chapter Nine

Sleep was not my friend that night; the gerbil wheel spun at lightspeed. No matter how I twisted my thinking, I couldn't come up with a logical suspect for the harassment or a reason that would justify Martin's behavior. I hadn't known him to make rash decisions, and I couldn't come up with a scenario that would explain why he'd embezzle money.

As the night progressed, I personalize what he'd done. How could I not? He stole from me and my company. That is personal, right? Had he developed a grudge against the company...or me. But why? I thought we had a good relationship. Oh, we had our differences, but nothing that seemed to require separate beds.

I glanced at the bedside clock for the hundredth time. It had only been fifteen minutes since I'd last checked. I sighed and decided to admit defeat.

I found a mug in the cupboard above the coffee maker, and minutes later, I was sitting on the deck, warming my hands with my cup filled with black coffee. The sky to the east was beginning to brighten, heralding the approach of a sunrise.

The slider opened behind me, and Pia asked, "Couldn't sleep?" She sat in the chair next to me.

"Chilly this morning," I observed. I noticed she wore slippers and wished I'd put on a pair of socks.

"I smelled the coffee." She yawned, flipped off her slippers, and tucked her feet under her. "I couldn't bear the thought of you on the deck with a mug of something warm, watching the sunrise alone."

"I appreciate your company," I said. "I've been constructing a tower of conjectures all night, and now I'm a prisoner in it."

"Conjectures make for a flimsy structure," she said, giving me the sister smirk. "Better get out before it collapses."

I gave her a flip of the wrist and changed the subject. "I don't think I mentioned seeing Troy and Melanie yesterday."

"No, you didn't. How are they doing?"

"Well, that's the thing," I said. "Remember, they didn't stay for the Martin's burial after the celebration of life?"

"Yes, I thought that was odd," Pia said. "Did they tell you they were leaving early?"

"We had the normal condolence conversation shortly after they arrived before the celebration, but I hadn't noticed they were absent until the crowd dispersed after the burial."

"Well, maybe they have a thing about burials," Pia said.

"They managed to attend their parents' burials," I said, "so I wouldn't think so."

"Huh, that's interesting, but I'm not sure it means anything."

"I'd agree, but when I told them that Martin had emptied our two savings accounts two days before he was murdered, Troy left in his pickup."

"Well, now. That suggests a strong emotional reaction, right? Was he angry?" Pia asked.

"I wouldn't say that he was angry," I said. "Agitated, maybe. Like before I got to the part of our bank account, he was pacing the floor."

"What was Melanie's reaction?"

"She said she couldn't say anything, and I'd have to ask Troy. She said, 'It's his family.' I didn't argue, but I considered myself a member of Martin's family. I was a little offended, but I didn't mention it."

"They treated you as family, didn't they?" Pia asked.

"It certainly felt that way." I swallowed the last of my now tepid coffee. "I don't know of anything in our ten years of marriage that would suggest he was hiding secrets."