"Yes, I am."
"I'm sorry to just show up like this." The woman looked down at her purse, then back up at Susan. "I got your name from a friend. She said you help businesses with transitions. I was wondering if you're accepting new clients right now. I’m in sort of a pickle and… well, honestly it’s sort of an emergency and I could use some guidance."
Susan glanced back toward her office, at the work still waiting on her desk. She normally didn't take walk-in clients at her home office anyway. But something about the woman's demeanor made Susan hesitate. She looked nervous, uncertain, like someone who had worked up the courage to come here and might lose it at any moment.
"What kind of transition are you dealing with?" Susan asked.
"I'm trying to start a consulting business," the woman said. "But I'm not sure how to structure it or how to price my services and the timeline I’m on… well, it’s a real bitch. I heard you're really good at helping people figure that out."
Susan had never advertised herself as someone who helped with business launches. Her focus was on established corporations dealing with executive changes. But she seemed genuine in her need for help, and Susan had been in a similar position not that long ago.
"I don't usually meet clients here at my home office," Susan said. "But I have a few minutes. Come on in."
The woman's face brightened with relief. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate this."
Susan stepped back and held the door open wider. The woman walked past her into the small hallway, looking around with interest at the framed degrees on the wall and the professional photos Susan had hung there.
"My office is just through here," Susan said, leading the way back down the hall. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name.”
“Oh, that’s because I didn’t give it.”
Curious, Susan turned around. She had just enough time to notice the strange, silver thing in the woman’s hand. Not a knife but something shorter… and then it was coming right at her and Susan barely had time to react at all.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kate checked the time on her phone. It was 3:40 in the afternoon, and she needed to make a decision. She could stay and continue working with Sloane, or she could head home to see Michael before dinner, to tell him how brave he was for bouncing back from his injury outdoors. Allen had said Michael wanted to show her his bandage, and Kate had promised she would be home at a reasonable hour.
But leaving now felt wrong. They were making progress, even if it was slow progress. And what kind of a so-called mentor would she be if she left now, just because things felt like they were at a stand-still. Every interview, every record they reviewed, every piece of information they gathered was bringing them closer to understanding who had killed Patricia Holmes and Rachel Thornton.
Kate looked across the cubicle at Sloane, who was focused on her laptop screen with the kind of intensity that suggested she had found something interesting.
"What are you looking at?" Kate asked.
"The Facebook group Mitchell told us about," Sloane said without looking up. "The one for Second Act Success participants."
"I thought that was a private group."
"It is.Was.It's been closed for about six months." Sloane scrolled through something on her screen. "But I was able to get in touch with the old moderator. She gave me access to the archived feeds. Facebook's legal department helped expedite the process once I explained it was part of a murder investigation."
Kate stood up and moved around to look at Sloane's screen. She wondered how much time has been wasted on waiting for the Facebook assist; from what she’d always heard, they werenotoriously slow. On Sloane’s screen, the Facebook interface showed a series of posts from various users, all discussing their experiences with the Second Act Success program. Some posts were encouraging and supportive. Others were frustrated complaints about businesses that had failed or expectations that hadn't been met.
"There's a lot here," Kate said. "What specifically are you looking for?"
"Anyone who showed excessive anger or resentment toward the success stories." Sloane clicked on a saved folder. "I've been flagging posts that seemed particularly hostile. And there's one person who keeps coming up."
She opened a thread from eight months ago. The original post was from Rachel Thornton, sharing news that her interior design business had been featured in Second Act Success's latest marketing campaign. The post included photos of her work and a link to the program's website.
Most of the comments were congratulatory. People celebrating Rachel's success, asking for advice, expressing hope that they might achieve similar results. But one comment stood out from the rest.
Kate leaned closer to read it.
Jennifer Grisham:Interesting that Crawford chose YOUR business to feature when there are plenty of other graduates who've been successful for longer. My bakery has been operating for nine months and pulling in twice your revenue, but apparently interior design is more photogenic than actual food. Guess that's what matters to him.
"That's pretty harsh," Kate said.
"It gets worse." Sloane scrolled down to show more comments. Another user had replied to Grisham's comment, gently suggesting that Crawford probably featured differentbusinesses to show the variety of success stories from the program.
Jennifer Grisham:Or maybe he features the ones who keep kissing his ass and pretend like his overpriced program actually taught them something useful. Rachel's success has nothing to do with Second Act and everything to do with her own talent. But sure, let's give Crawford all the credit.
