Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries Box Set Nanci Rathbun (i love reading books txt) 📖

Bobbie looked at me. “Do we open it?”

The email most likely contained Hank’s last words to Marcy. We couldn’t intrude on that, I decided. “I think it has to be Marcy’s call,” I said. “Let’s see what she has to say.” I tapped her number in my cellphone and put it on speaker. When she answered, I told her that Bobbie and Spider were on the call because we needed their expertise to get to an email message that Hank left in a different system from his usual Gmail.

There was a long moment of silence before she asked, “Who is the message for?”

“The Subject line reads, ‘For My Wife,’” I told her. “We don’t know how personal it might be, or if it contains information you don’t want to share.”

When she spoke again, her voice was a bit subdued. “I’d like to read it myself first. Can you come over here, Angie? Just you?”

Spider pointed between himself and Bobbie, then typed, “Get her here, so I can use my equipment in case of a problem. And ask for something that would have his prints on it.”

I felt my eyebrows rise at that. “I’m uneasy about doing this at your house,” I told Marcy. “Hank used an ultra-secure email provider called S-Mail, and went to great efforts to hide the login and password. There might be another level of security involved when the message opens, one that I wouldn’t be able to manage. Using S-Mail means that, once we read and close the message, it gets deleted. There’s no second chance.”

When she didn’t respond, I said, “Could you drive out to my security expert’s headquarters in Delafield? And bring something that would have Hank’s fingerprints on it. Bobbie’s here, too. He was instrumental in finding the hidden password.” When she didn’t answer right away, I offered, “What if we stay out of the room when you access the message? If you need us, we’ll be on standby.”

“Okay. That makes sense. But I want you with me at first, Angie.”

“Then that’s how we’ll do it,” I reassured her.

While we waited, we discussed strategy. If Hank’s message was a simple good-bye, there was no reason for any of us to read it. If it seemed to contain levels of meaning, it would be up to me to convince Marcy to share it. As much as I wanted to respect her privacy, I also wanted to figure out what was running through Hank’s mind when he set up this figurative scavenger hunt.

About thirty minutes passed before Magda ushered Marcy to the office door, where she stood for a moment, taking in the array of equipment. I walked over and gave her a hug, then gently propelled her into the room.

Spider stood and I made introductions. “For you,” he said to Marcy with a flourish of his hand as he indicated his executive desk chair. “Bobbie and I will be outside the door.” When she sat, he leaned over her shoulder and pointed. “Click here to open the message, then here to make a printed copy.”

Marcy cast a sheepish look at the men. “I hope I’m not offending you by asking you to leave.”

Bobbie spoke in a soothing tone. “Not at all. I wouldn’t want to share a final message with others, either. Don’t give it a thought.”

The men exited and Marcy and I faced the monitor. I moved my chair back and said, “You read it first and tell me if you want me to look it over or not. But don’t close it until we talk, okay?”

Marcy gulped and clicked on the message. After a count of ten that felt as if it dragged on forever, she said, in a small voice, “I want you to see it, Angie.”

I edged the chair back around.

Marcy, you’re reading this because of my death. I want you to know that I set up a life insurance policy before I left town. Call Rick Sturgis at his agency. There will be enough to take care of you and the kids until they’re through college. If you decide to get involved with someone else or remarry, have a reliable investigator check out the man. You have no idea what is out there. I’m sorry, Marcy. I wanted the best for you and the kids. I wish things could have turned out differently. Hank

I read the email twice and then sat, silent, for a few seconds. Hank expressed contrition in the message, but he never expressed love. However, he had taken steps to secure the family’s economic future. For some men, that is a way to say ‘I love you.’

Marcy’s eyes remained focused, unblinking, on the screen, her jaw muscles working and her hands clenching the arms of the desk chair, hard. I didn’t see her chest move. She was unconsciously holding her breath.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

With a start, she turned away from the monitor and inhaled deeply. “I’m not sure.” She gave a quick little shake of the head. “The message is so … impersonal. Not like the Hank I know. Knew. And I still don’t understand why he walked away. He wasn’t that kind of man, Angie. Something must have pushed him to leave, but what?” She closed her eyes.

I settled back into my chair. It was time to expose Jim Beltran. “Marcy, there’s something else you need to know. Hank was living in Stevens Point under an alias, Jim Beltran. He even went to the nursing facility as Beltran. But he set up the obituary beforehand, and he told the attorney his real identity so that it would be published under his real name, Henry Wagner. Does the name Beltran have any special meaning? Or even Jim? Someone in Hank’s earlier life?”

She drew in her eyebrows and a furrow appeared above her nose. “No. I’ve never heard of a Beltran. As for Jim …” She shook her head. “It’s a common enough name, but not one that I recall Hank using in conversation.” A moment