Trust No One Page 14
“Are you aware of anyone who might have been holding a grudge against your son?” This question Kerri directed to the father.
He moved his head side to side. “The software industry is mercilessly competitive, no question. Everyone wants to be the creator of the next big thing—the app that will change the way we conduct our lives or react to simply living. Ben ran into his share of those who tried to undercut him or cheat him in some manner. But he always found a way to work things out. He didn’t like holding grudges or living with misunderstandings. He preferred facing the problem head-on and clearing the air before he was done, then moving on.”
“What about Theo Thompson?” Falco asked. “He and your son had a disagreement at an event recently. Is there bad blood between those two?”
Daniel Abbott shook his head as if the question had no merit. “Theo isn’t the problem. It’s his wife, Suzanne. After her mother died, nothing would satisfy her until she sold the house. She didn’t want her father and his new wife living there. There didn’t appear to be a problem until she learned Ben intended to tear the place down. Suzanne was suddenly insistent that Theo buy it back for her. She’s a selfish woman who cares for no one but herself. Theo has his hands full, believe me.”
“So in your opinion,” Falco pressed, “there is nothing to investigate about the property dispute.”
“You would be wasting valuable time and resources,” the older man insisted.
“What about your son’s wife?” Kerri asked, redirecting the focus of the conversation. “Are there any problems in her life? Has she ever mentioned any trouble? Anything out of the ordinary?”
Daniel Abbott shook his head once more. “Sela is very involved in fundraising for a wide array of charities,” he explained. “She loves her work, and she’s very, very good at it. In the short time she’s been in Birmingham, she has raised a tremendous amount of money for several major charities, particularly those for women in jeopardy.”
“Nothing in her past that gave you pause?” Kerri opened her notepad and readied her pen. She needed more than what they already had. The neighbors, the husband’s staff, and every damned thing they found on the net raved about the kind and generous Sela Rollins Abbott.
“They met in San Francisco,” Abbott said. “I’m sure you’re aware that’s where the major part of Ben’s business remains.”
Kerri nodded. She was well aware. A lengthy conversation with those in charge in San Francisco had given her the same thing she’d gotten from everyone else. The Abbotts were above reproach. Madly in love. Exemplary humans.
“He moved a portion of his business back here to be closer to home. After what happened he didn’t want to be so far away.” Abbott glanced at his wife.
This was news. “What happened?” Kerri looked from the man to his wife.
“I had a heart attack,” she said. “I recovered better than expected, but there was substantial damage. Bearing in mind the possibility of another, Ben wanted to come back home and be near me. I believe that’s also why he decided to marry Sela so suddenly. They had been dating for only a couple of months. My near-death experience seemed to put his life in a new light. He realized he wanted a family of his own, and Sela was . . . there.”
Handy, Kerri silently finished for her. “Was there any time after the marriage that Ben perhaps felt he’d been too hasty?”
“Are you suggesting,” Mr. Abbott interrupted, “that this horror has something to do with his marriage to Sela?”
“I am not, sir,” Kerri explained quickly. “I’m only trying to narrow down the possibilities. You’ve stated that he had no business enemies. He had no problems with work. That leaves his personal life. If the property dispute with Thompson is irrelevant as you say, there must be something else.”
The older couple stared at each other for a long moment.
“There was a period of time,” Mrs. Abbott said finally. “About four or five months ago. I don’t know what was going on, but Ben and Sela went through something. We sensed a great deal of tension, but he wouldn’t discuss it. It didn’t last very long. They discovered the baby was coming, and suddenly they were happy again. Ben never told us what happened.”
“Lots of couples go through bumps early on.” Mr. Abbott patted his wife’s hands. “We certainly suffered our share.”
His wife gave a single nod of agreement, and then she dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief.
“Your son must have had friends,” Falco spoke up. “Maybe an old friend from his school days. Someone he trusted that he might have talked to about any problems with his work or his wife.”
“Ben learned to be inordinately private. In the world of Abbott Options, it’s essential,” the father reiterated. “But there is one relationship he maintained over the years. Speak to Keith Bellemont. He’s an attorney. He and Ben have been friends since kindergarten.”
Kerri wrote the name in her pad. “Has Mr. Bellemont been in contact with you since he learned what happened?”
“He was here last night,” Mrs. Abbott said. “He’s devastated just as we are.”
When more of that silence dragged on, Falco said, “Was there any issue with Sela’s mother living in the home? Sometimes a couple can feel cramped with an extra person around.”
“Jacqueline lived with them from the beginning,” Mr. Abbott offered. “She has—had—many health complications of her own and no one else to care for her except her daughter.”
Kerri watched Mrs. Abbott’s face carefully as her husband answered the question. Her expression tightened with distaste. She didn’t care for Jacqueline Rollins; that was fairly obvious.
“What sort of health problems did Ms. Rollins have?” Kerri asked.
“Ironically,” Mrs. Abbott said, “only a few days after my heart surgery, Jacqueline was diagnosed with cancer. I found it rather odd that she only saw an oncologist that once—when she was diagnosed.” Her lips tightened as she spoke of the other woman. “Sela insisted on taking her mother to one of those herbalists. As far as I know, the woman never saw another real doctor. She had all those prescriptions from the first doctor but refused to take any of it.”
Her voice confirmed her dislike for the wife’s mother, maybe the wife too.
“Do you remember the herbalist’s name?” Kerri readied to write down the information for additional follow-up.
Mrs. Abbott shook her head. “She may have mentioned the name once, but I don’t recall.”
“I’m sure I can track down the name.” Kerri slipped her notepad into her pocket as she rested her gaze on the father once more. “Mr. Abbott, as much as I hate to ask this next question, I really feel it’s necessary.”
“As I said,” he reiterated, “ask anything you like. We want to help.”
“Your own company, DATACO, is the largest in the state. In the top two hundred in the nation. Is it possible what happened has anything to do with your company or an enemy of yours?”
Daniel Abbott appeared taken aback by the question. “I can assure you that DATACO had nothing to do with this tragedy. We are a multifaceted company with all sorts of endeavors from publishing to manufacturing to real estate. We do not and never have had those sorts of enemies.”
“I imagine,” Falco said, “you were disappointed when your son chose to pursue building his own business rather than joining DATACO.”
Mrs. Abbott continued to stare at the crumbling tissue in her hands, but Mr. Abbott looked straight at Falco with something that bordered on indignation. “My son, as I’m sure you’re aware, had far bigger plans. DATACO will be—would have been—his one day for him to do with as he pleases. He was his own man.”
DATACO was an acronym using the first letters of Mr. and Mrs. Abbotts’ given names. Mr. Abbott had taken the small company he’d inherited from his father and sold it to create DATACO. Kerri supposed holding his son’s decision against him would have made him a hypocrite. That said, it was an avenue that required clarification.
“I hope one or both of you will call us if you think of anything at all that might be useful to our investigation. Anyone new who had entered your son’s life. Any trouble—no matter how slight—he might have mentioned. Anything at all.” Kerri passed a card to the father.
“Of course,” Daniel Abbott assured her.
“If we have more questions,” Falco put in, “we may need to drop by again.”
The Abbotts repeated their desire to help. Kerri thanked the grieving couple for their cooperation, and then the same staff member who’d led them inside showed them to the door.
As she and Falco descended the steps, he said, “We going to Abbott’s office now?”
“We are.” Kerri paused before opening the passenger’s-side door of his Charger. “Then we’re going to find this friend Keith Bellemont.”
“The friend none of the neighbors seemed to know about?” Falco tossed across the roof of the car.