"Huh?" Joe said. "You’ve lost me already. Why would terminally ill people sell a life insurance policy? The whole point of a policy like that is to leave money for the survivors."

"Yes, but sometimes there aren’t any survivors – well, I mean close ones, like a spouse, or children. Or the ill person needs money for medical care…or to take a trip they wanted to have all their lives and never quite had the time or money to do." Megan explained. "Crowley would buy these policies for a cash payment. The seller gets the money for whatever immediate necessity – and Crowley gets the insurance return when the person dies."

"Ugh!" Vanessa shuddered. "That is so cold-blooded."

"I know," Megan nodded in agreement. "But I suppose he does do a service, of a sort. The patients get much-needed cash, and Crowley gets his money repaid, with interest." She glanced down at the file pages. "But the unusual thing about these two injections of cash is that they each occurred right at the very time the money was needed most urgently by Crowley Manufacturing. If we’d had time to get the files from when my dad died forward, as well as these going backward, I wonder if there might not have been some more convenient cash inflows."

"You think the two may have a connection?" Frank inquired.

"I didn’t think it; but my dad may have been suspicious." she replied. "If he was, and Crowley thought Dad was a danger to him – well, you can see where that idea leads."

"From what we heard last night, your dad has some sort of proof of wrongdoing." Joe reminded her. "It isn’t just your suspicions anymore. We heard Crowley mention a tape that your dad had, that apparently implicates him – or someone." He frowned in thought. "Any ideas about where that tape might be?"

She shook her head dejectedly. "No, but I haven’t really had a chance to look. It must be hidden awfully well, though, since the house was ransacked once and it wasn’t found."

"It sounds as if you need a crew of treasure-hunters at your house, Megan." Vanessa smiled. "I volunteer for duty, right now."

Joe grinned. "That’s my girl! Always ready for action! Well, count me in. But not tonight; it’s already too late."

Frank had been silent for a long time, thinking. Now he spoke: "Joe, you have football practice after school, and Megan and I don’t get done until four o’clock. Could we maybe come to your place, Megan, around five? If your mom doesn’t mind, I mean? After all, we’re proposing to tear the place apart again."

"She won’t object. I’ve told her what I’m doing, and she wants to find out what happened to Dad as much as I do. Five o’clock should be fine." Megan smiled suddenly, and it was like a ray of sunshine lighting the room. "I’ll even order pizza, since Joe didn’t get the one he wanted, last night. This morning. Whenever!"

They all laughed. "Vanessa, is that okay with you?" Frank asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "I’ll be there. Are we going to include anyone else?"

Frank shook his head. "I don’t think we can. Phil’s going back to New York tonight, and I know Tony works Monday evenings. It would take too long to get Biff and Chet up to speed on this, at least for tomorrow night. Maybe later, if we need them."

"Well, this has been a gas, guys, but I need to get home. I have English Lit. to read yet tonight." Vanessa uncurled her long legs and pulled herself to her feet. As she did so, Megan’s eyes followed her movements, widening in surprise as she took in the height the younger girl possessed. Vanessa looked down and laughed. "Yup, I really am that tall!"

"I’m envious!" Megan said with a laugh. "I’ve always wanted to be tall, and here I am, stuck at 5’2"!"

"You don’t need to be any taller." Frank blurted. "You’re just right as it is." He turned scarlet as both Joe and Vanessa began to laugh. Megan reached over and patted his hand.

Joe now got to his feet and took Vanessa’s hand. "C’mon, babe, I’ll walk you to your car."

"Okay. Bye, Frank…bye, Megan. It was nice to meet you. See you tomorrow afternoon. Oh, can I come by here and go with you guys? I don’t know where Megan lives."

"Sure," Frank replied. "See you tomorrow."

Left alone, Frank and Megan sat in thoughtful silence for a few moments. Frank glanced over at the little red-head, and saw that her dimple had disappeared, and she was looking very sad. Impulsively, he reached for her hand.

"Megan, what’s wrong? Aren’t we doing what you wanted?"

She gripped his fingers tightly. "Of course you are – better than I had hoped! But – it’s scary, Frank. Last night, I was terrified. And I have a feeling it’s going to get worse."