Midas Murders [Book 3 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] by Janet Lane-Walters Read Free Book Online Page A

me apologize for my wife's rudeness. She's afraid some gold-digger will take advantage of her father."
    "No apology needed. I've known Bonnie all her life. Contrary to her beliefs, I've no designs on Lars’ money. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm financially secure."
    He laughed. “No one can have enough money."
    "Depends on your needs. Mine are fairly simple."
    He moved closer. “You wouldn't gain much around here. Old Lars pinches pennies. Sure wish he'd retire and leave the show to us."
    "Isn't that what he plans?"
    "Not if my wife has her way. She'll do just about anything to keep her daddy here."
    "Carl, where are you?” Bonnie called.
    "In the kitchen."
    "Don't monopolize Aunt Katherine."
    I brushed past him and reached the living room. “You don't have to worry. He's quite safe with me."
    Bonnie laughed. “How droll. Carl, let's go home. Damon, call those people in California and find why they haven't completed their proposed budget. Daddy, take care.” She slipped on her mink and blew a kiss.
    Damon and Lars headed to his study. I returned to the kitchen to prepare lunch. Hot roast beef, potato pancakes, a salad and cake for dessert were on the menu.
    The odd dynamics of the Bonnie, Carl, Damon trio puzzled me. Were they working together or did each of them have a separate agenda? No matter. I sensed something brewing between them that I feared would escalate. Bonnie seemed to be the focus or maybe the instigator. Lars needed to recognize the things I saw, but his doting love for his daughter blinded his sight.
    * * * *
    When lunch was ready, I walked toward the study. Loud voices halted me just as I entered the hall.
    "When are you going to make the announcement?” Damon demanded.
    "After Kate leaves."
    "Then I'll wait, but not happily.” He paused and then began to speak again. “You need to do something about Carl ASAP. He's my friend, but he has a real problem. He could be altering the books. Why don't you call in an outside accountant?"
    "Do you have proof?"
    "I'm no accountant. Neither are you. Lord, he could steal you blind to pay his gambling debts."
    "Bonnie wouldn't tolerate my harassing him."
    "Don't be so sure of that. She's growing tired of his weekends in Vegas."
    "She hasn't said a word."
    "She wouldn't,” Damon said. “She's your daughter and has your kind of pride. She knows how you feel about the marriage."
    I wished Lars would forget about entertaining me and attend to his affairs. Perhaps I'd end my stay early. I'm sure I could find a reason, but would Lars’ danger increase if I left?
    "Lars, lunch is ready,” I called. “Will Mr. Webster be staying?"
    The younger man stepped into the hall. “If I'm invited. Lars has raved about your cooking. And please call me Damon."
    "We're having left-overs. I'll set another place.” I returned to the kitchen.
    Moments later Lars arrived. He took the plates and silverware. “Thanks for the welcome interruption. We were getting nowhere.” He kissed my cheek.
    "Glad to be of service.” I carried the food to the dining room. Questions about the things Damon had said about Carl troubled me. I refrained from voicing them, at least until Lars and I were alone.
    Something about the attitude of Lars’ assistant troubled me. The young man had a ready smile and a charming manner, but my latest experience with a charmer had made me wary. While Damon's attempt to portray his friend as a thief had been smoothly done, I wondered about his motives. For some reason I couldn't define, I didn't trust Mr. Webster. I wished Lars didn't either.
    Lunch ended with slices of chocolate cake. Lars tasted and grinned. “As wonderful as ever."
    "Have you ever considered opening a restaurant?” Damon asked.
    "I've had two careers. That's enough."
    Lars chuckled. “That's two she'll admit. Maybe the third's just a hobby."
    Damon's glance showed a curiosity I was reluctant to answer. “He's teasing."
    "Am I?” Lars asked.
    "Finish your lunch,” I