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All Her Little Secrets(46)

Author:Wanda M. Morris

“Why are you so sure?”

“I was going through Michael’s things upstairs in our closet. I found a key and a lease document to a safe-deposit box at Wells Fargo.” Anna lifted a large manila envelope from the desk. “This morning, I went to the bank. I found this in the safe-deposit box. I think this may be what they were looking for.”

I opened the envelope and pulled out a small stack of papers. The first document on the top:

January 3

To: Nathaniel C. Ashe, CEO & Chairman Houghton Board of Directors

From: Michael Sayles, EVP & General Counsel

Effectively immediately, I resign from my position as Executive Vice President & General Counsel.

Short. Sparse. Thirteen words. The resignation letter was dated the same day Michael was killed. I peeled my eyes away from the paper and stared at Anna, speechless.

“Exactly! Did you know Michael was planning to resign?” she asked.

“No . . . no, I didn’t.”

“Well, I didn’t either. Keep reading.”

I flipped to the next page, a copy of an email thread between Michael and an outside lawyer named Geoffrey Gallagher. From what I could discern, Michael had enlisted Gallagher to review documents regarding a joint venture between Houghton and a company called Libertad Excursiones.

Libertad. There was that name again.

Gallagher’s reply email to Michael came exactly seven minutes after the request: Call me ASAP!!! Written in the margin of the paper, a 614 area code phone number.

“Who is Geoffrey Gallagher?” I asked. He was not our usual mergers and acquisitions outside counsel.

“I looked him up. He’s a lawyer who specializes in defending executives who get into criminal trouble. Some kind of collar or something. Do you know him?”

“White-collar defense?” I shook my head, confused. “No. I don’t know him.”

“Well, whoever he is, I think he and Michael may have found some trouble with that company . . . Libertad, is it? What is this all about?” Anna said, with impatience in her voice.

“I’m not sure. Were these the only documents in the envelope? Just this?”

“What kind of business deal is this?” Anna asked, more forceful this time.

I bit my bottom lip and gave Anna an I-wish-I-could-tell-you kind of look.

“Ellice, this is my husband we’re talking about. Someone thought this business deal, or whatever it is, was worth more than my husband’s life.”

“Anna, I’m not even sure what all this means myself. Have you shown this to the police?”

“No.” Anna shook her head. “No.”

“You need to go to the police.”

“NO!”

“Listen to me. Someone murdered Michael. You really need to turn this information over to them.” For as much as I hated the police, even I knew this was big enough that Detective Bradford needed to be involved.

“Absolutely not. The media—everyone—tried to make Michael out to be some sort of suicidal nut job. And then when I finally convince that detective that Michael would never kill himself, she starts acting like I was involved in his murder. No”—she shook her head forcefully—“I will not have them drag my husband’s good name through the mud again. If I take this to the police, they’ll take it to Houghton and . . . the company will spin it in some way to make Michael look bad. And besides, that detective . . . Bradford. I don’t like her. That’s why I called you, Ellice. You were one of the few people in that place that he trusted.”

“I don’t know how I can help you, Anna.”

“I think Michael was in some kind of trouble—maybe he did do something he shouldn’t have. I don’t know. I do know I can’t live through that scrutiny again. News stations had trucks parked out front last week at all hours of the day. People calling here, saying all sorts of crazy stuff. Some people think my husband’s murder had something to do with the protests against the company, like it was Michael’s fault that Houghton didn’t want to hire Black people. Ellice, . . . I can’t . . .” Anna’s eyes welled as she cradled her arms across her chest.

“Everyone knows Michael was aboveboard. He’d never be involved in something bad,” I said.

“I need you to help me, Ellice. Find out if Michael was in some sort of trouble. If he did something wrong, I want to know about it without the police smearing his good name.”

“What?” I didn’t know how to do what she was asking of me. “Listen, Anna, if Michael was in some sort of trouble, the police need to investigate it. That’s the only way they’ll find his killer.”

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