Barry Friedman - Dead End Read Online Free Page B

swollen, their lower lips trembled.
    Hendricks said, “This is my wife Sue, and Toni
and Karen Horner. Sally’s upstairs. I’ll get her.”
    Maharos said, “Listen, if she’s still resting,
don’t disturb her.”
    “She’s awake now,” said Sue Hendricks. She
smoothed the hair of the younger girl. “The boys are staying over at my
sister’s.”
    Hendricks went upstairs and a minute later came
down with Sally Horner leaning on his arm. She wore a long, blue robe. Strands
of light brown hair stood out from her head like quills, she wore no makeup and
her eyes had a glazed, far-away stare.
    Sue Hendricks got up from the couch. “I’ll be in
the kitchen with the girls, Sally.”
    Hendricks said, “I’ll stay here with Sally, in
case she needs me.”
    Maharos and Fiala stood until Hendricks eased her
down on a sectional chair. He dragged a chair to her side and sat with an arm
draped across the back of her easy chair.
    Maharos said, “I can’t tell you how sorry we are
about your husband, Mrs. Horner. We hated to bother you, but it’s important
that we move along with our investigation as fast as possible.”
    She nodded but remained silent.
    From her zombie-like appearance, Maharos didn’t
expect to get much useful information. “I’m not going to ask you too many
questions. But the most important is: did your husband have any enemies, anyone
who might have threatened him?”
    Sally Horner continued to stare off into space.
Finally, in a barely audible voice, she said, “Nancy Taylor.”
    Maharos and Fiala exchanged looks.
    Maharos said, “His secretary?”
    She nodded.
    “What makes you think she had anything to do with
it?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “They were—he planned to fire
her.”
    “When did he tell you this?”
    “Two days ago. The day before he—“ She covered
her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook, her sobs silent.
    “Why was he firing her?”
    Sally Horner slid her hands from her face and
stared at the floor without answering.
    Maharos waited but she said nothing. He said,
“Mrs. Horner, was anything going on between your husband and Mrs. Taylor?”
    A small nod.
    “How did you find out?”
    “He—he told me.”
    “When?”
    “Two days ago.” Her voice grew stronger. “Two
days ago George looked—I don’t know, depressed when he came home. I asked him
if he’d had a bad day. He told me about firing Nancy Taylor. I asked why. He
told me about—you know, sleeping with her.” She paused, gazed at the window.
Maharos waited for her to continue. “He said it happened only once, knew he’d
made a mistake. She kept inviting him to her place. He refused. Finally, he
told her if she didn’t stop pestering him, he’d fire her. She said if he did,
she’d tell me about their ‘affair’.”
    “Did your husband say she’d threatened him?
Threatened to kill him?”
    “No. But who else could have done it?”
    “Mrs. Horner, before he told you, did you have
any idea that your husband and Mrs. Taylor had—been together?”
    She snugged her robe close to her body. “I don’t
know. One time, about six months ago, I thought maybe they’d had an affair.
She’s attractive, divorced. Well, you know how men are. But I passed it off.
Told myself I’d been concerned about nothing. Never gave it much thought
again—until—“
    “When did you talk to your husband last?”
    She gazed at the carpet, her lips trembling,
seemed to be struggling to keep in control. When she looked up her eyes were
brimming. She took a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her eyes. “Yesterday
morning, at breakfast.”
    “Did he say anything about his plans for the
day?”
    She shook her head. “He rarely told me anything
about his business.”
    “Did he say anything about coming home late for
dinner—or anything like that?”
    “No, but he frequently worked late.”
    She told them that around eight-thirty when she
received no reply at the office phone she called Harrison Bost at his home. He
said