The call rolled straight to voicemail. She listened to Connelly’s familiar voice as he instructed her to leave a message. She racked her brain for a suitable message but came up with nothing.
She disconnected the call and buried her face in her hands so her crying wouldn’t wake the twins.
Leo felt like warmed-over crap. Partly, because he’d left his wife in a lurch with no explanation. Partly, because he’d spent the hours from approximately midnight until after five a.m. nursing first bottles of beer and then glasses of whiskey with Wheaton’s buddies.
He hadn’t learned anything of value, but he’d managed to embed himself into the circle of the man’s friends. When Bill the bartender had announced that it was closing time and flipped on the bright overhead lights to chase out the stragglers, Leo hadn’t been asked to leave. Slim, C.J., and some of the others headed into the back and made themselves comfortable in what had once been a break room for the catering staff. He’d tagged along.
After Bill had cleaned up the bar and locked up for the night, he’d joined them with a bottle of single-barrel bourbon, which they’d worked their way through, telling stories about Wheaton. Leo kept his contributions vague and leaned heavily on the hour or so he’d spent in Hyacinth for material.
Once people started draping themselves across benches and snoring, he asked Bill to unlock the door so he could leave. He figured even the worst hotel mattress would be a step up from a metal bench.
Bill confirmed that he was okay to drive, told him he was welcome to come back for a brunch in Essiah’s honor at ten-thirty, then locked the door behind him.
Leo squinted into the brightening sky for a moment and yawned open-mouthed. Then, as he trudged to his SUV, he pulled out his phone, filled with a sudden need to hear Sasha’s voice.
After four rings, the call went to voicemail. He disconnected and frowned down at his phone. Sasha usually started her day before the sun. He’d thought he’d catch her while the twins were still sleeping, but she hadn’t picked up.
You should be glad she didn’t answer. What are you planning to tell her? Hi, honey, I’m in the wind because someone else killed the man I was supposed to kill and now I have to find out who did it. Yeah, that would go over great.
No, he had to fix this mess in Mars first. Then he could turn his full attention to making things right with Sasha. It was smart, logical. The right decision. Even if it felt like a huge, possibly irreparable, mistake.
He pocketed the phone, turned the key in the ignition, and stared bleary-eyed out at the road.
26
Sasha was grateful she was in a hurry when her dad showed up. On the list of topics she wanted to discuss with her father, her missing husband didn’t make the cut.
“Hi, Dad. The kids have had breakfast. Pets have been fed. It would be awesome if you guys could take Mocha for a walk. Lunch is in the fridge. I’ve got an early meeting in Mars, but I won’t be late tonight. Bye!” She downloaded the information to him in one breath as she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her keys, jacket, and bag.
On her way out the door, she paused to admire the block castle Finn and Fiona were constructing. She kissed the top of each of their heads.
“Bye-bye, Mommy,” Finn said.
“Daddy’s coming home?” Fiona wanted to know.
“Mmm-hmm,” Sasha managed to choke out around the lump in her throat.
“Yay!”
She rushed out the door before she lost her tenuous grip on her emotions.
She fed Essiah Wheaton’s address into her station wagon’s navigation system and activated the hands-free calling function through her speakers.
“Call Naya.”
Calling Naya, her car told her. Or maybe it was her phone. Whichever. Some inanimate object was talking to her.
“Hey, Mac.”
“Hi. Listen, do me a favor and let Caroline and Will know I’ll be in later this morning.”
“Yeah, I saw the time on the docket system. You filed that complaint in the middle of the night. Gonna send Leo and the kids to the park and catch up on your beauty sleep?”
“I wish. He’s … out of town. My parents are taking the kids, but I’m on my way out to Mars for a meeting.”
“There’s nothing on your calendar,” Naya mused.
“Right. That’s why I’m calling. Gella set up a meeting, and I don’t think she should attend it without counsel.”
“Really? Do I need to be there?”
Sasha knew Naya wasn’t being territorial. After all, she was the relationship partner with this client. But she also suspected Naya wouldn’t want to touch this matter with someone else’s ten-foot pole.
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s about the litigation—already? You only just filed.”
“It’s related to the data leak.” She removed one hand from the steering wheel and picked up her travel mug. She sipped her ice water and wished it were coffee. Her doctor had warned her she’d end up with a peptic ulcer if she didn’t exhibit some modicum of restraint. So, she’d reformed: she now drank a full glass of water between her first and second pots of coffee each day.
“Spit it out.”
For half a second, she thought Naya had read her mind about the water. “Oh, right. You know how Gella wasn’t able to get in touch with that man who donated all the money to the hurricane relief projects? The one whose name was on the government’s list?”
“Sure, Mr. Wheaton. Are you two going to see him personally?”
“Not exactly.”
“Mac ….” Naya’s voice held a warning note. Her patience was thinning.
“We’re going to see his widow. Apparently, Mr. Wheaton was murdered yesterday evening.”
“Oh, sweet Lord. You think it’s related?”
“Do I? I think it might be. Gella doesn’t. But she’s a trusting soul.”
“Listen, be careful up there. If the NCTC is behind this—”
“I know.”
“It’s too bad Leo’s out of town. Maybe take Hank with you? You know, for backup.”
She’d considered the idea, but at this point, her anger toward her husband was bleeding over toward his boss. She didn’t want to ask Hank for any more favors.
“We’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know. This seems like a bad idea.”
“Gella’s driving out there whether I do or not. Which seems like a worse idea—to go and make sure she doesn’t say anything stupid or let her fly solo?”
Naya blew out a loud breath. “You’re right, I guess.”
“Believe me, I don’t like this any more than you do.”
She glanced at her navigation screen and was about to end the call when Naya said, “Hang on a second.”
Two short beeps let her know she’d been placed on hold. She raised her eyebrows and drank some more water. Then she reached across to the passenger seat and rummaged blindly through her bag with her right hand until she found a slightly crushed protein bar.
She was tearing the wrapper open with her teeth when Naya came back on the line.
“Sorry about that. Caroline just took an urgent message for you. She wanted me to pass it on.”
She dropped the bar in her lap. “Urgent? Did something happen to Leo? Oh, no not one of the kids?”
Naya didn’t comment on her rare use of her husband’s first name. “Leo? No. Wait—where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
The statement hung between them for a silent moment.
“Oh. But, no, it’s not Leo. And it’s not your kids. Your family’s fine. It’s urgent in the trial attorney sense of the word. But it is odd.”
“Oh.” She exhaled and loosened her grip on the steering wheel. “What is it?”
“Apparently Asher Morgan and Sentinel Solution Systems have already retained counsel. Someone named Angela Washington called. She told Caroline she’s representing both defendants.”
“Washington? Never heard of her. But that’s n
ot that unusual—why wouldn’t they enter into a joint defense agreement?”
“No, that’s not the weird part. She told Caroline she has a time-sensitive settlement offer to convey to you. Her clients are willing to, and this is a quote, “make it worth DoGiveThrive’s while” to settle the case.”
She blinked. “That’s fast.”
“No kidding. There’s more. Attorney Washington said she’s authorized to offer a mid-six figure amount. But the offer expires at noon.”
Naya’s words filled the passenger compartment of the car.
Sasha tried to figure out what they could mean.
“Are you still there?” Naya asked.
“I’m here. But that’s … that doesn’t make a lick of sense.”
“I know. What do you think they’re up to?”
Her stomach tightened. “I don’t have the faintest idea, but I know this much. It’s nothing good. Will you text me Angela Washington’s telephone number? I’m going to see if I can get a hold of Gella and have her meet me somewhere to talk this over before we go to see Wheaton’s widow.”
“I’ll send it as soon as I hang up,” she promised. “And remember, be—”
“I’m always careful, Naya.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Naya got in the last word with the retort and hurriedly ended the call before Sasha could respond.
Sasha jabbed the button to silence her directions and instructed her phone to call Gella Pinkney. The tinny ringing of the phone came through the speakers.
“Sasha?” Gella answered on the fourth ring, slightly out of breath. “You’re not already there, are you?”
“No, I’m about fifteen minutes away. What about you?”
“Um, it looks like I must be about three or four minutes behind you. I’m sorry we couldn’t drive up together, but I need to head straight to Ohio after we talk to Ms. Johnson.”
“Johnson?”
“Essiah Wheaton’s widow. She kept her maiden name.”
“Oh, right, of course. No worries about driving separately. But we should talk before we meet with Ms. Johnson.” She spotted a diner just off the exit she was approaching. “Why don’t I buy you a quick breakfast?—there’s a diner just ahead on the right.”
“We shouldn’t be late …”
“I agree. But counsel for Mr. Morgan and his new employer called my office with a settlement offer that expires at noon. And I know you need to leave straight from our meeting with Ms. Johnson. So we need to talk beforehand.”
“A settlement offer, already? That’s awfully fast, isn’t it?”
“I’d call it unprecedented speed.”
“Sasha, what’s going on?”
“I wish I knew. So about that breakfast?”
“Let’s just make it a cup of coffee. I really don’t want to keep Ms. Johnson waiting. She has funeral arrangements to make and a whole host of details to attend to.”
“Of course. Coffee’s great.” She exited the highway and turned into the parking lot. “I’ll grab a table and order the drinks to speed things along.”
“See you in a few minutes.”
Sasha pulled into a spot and retrieved her half-eaten energy bar from her lap. She finished eating the bar, drank the rest of her water, and headed into the restaurant to wait for Gella.
Gella walked through the door just after Sasha had ordered two coffees from a very cranky, tired-looking waitress whose nametag read Dana.
“No food?” she asked pointedly.
“We’re in a hurry,” Sasha explained as Gella slid into the booth across from her.
Dana huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes before walking away with the menus tucked under her arm.
“So what’s this about a settlement offer?” Gella asked without preamble.
Sasha noted the bags pouching out from under Gella’s eyes but didn’t comment on her tired appearance. She knew she didn’t exactly look well-rested herself. She’d made a weak attempt to conceal the dark half-moons under her own eyes with makeup. They looked like exactly what they were: two women who hadn’t slept.
“I haven’t called defense counsel back yet. I wanted to talk to you first. Her message said her clients are prepared to pay DoGiveThrive six figures to settle the claims in the complaint. But the offer is only good until noon.”
Dana returned with two mugs of coffee and deposited them on the table. She reached into her apron pocket and removed a handful of creamers, which she tossed down beside the coffees.
“Thank you,” Sasha said.
“Yes, thanks. Is your shift almost over?” Gella asked in a warm, interested voice.
The waitress pursed her lips. “My shift was over nearly an hour ago. But the morning guy didn’t show up. So here I am.”
“Ugh. I’m sorry,” Sasha said.
“Not half as sorry as I am.” She pushed her bangs out of her eyes with the back of her hand. “Although, I guess I should cut him some slack. A friend of his died last night. He was up most of the drinking and reminiscing with his buddies.”
The most recent population figures for Butler County showed fewer than two thousand residents living in Mars.
“Your co-worker knew Essiah Wheaton?” Sasha guessed.
Surprise sparked in the woman’s tired eyes. “Yeah, he did. You ladies knew him, too?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Gella explained. “We’re actually on our way to see his widow.”
“Ah, poor Sheila. Please tell her Dana’s praying for her. I’ll stop by tonight with a casserole.”
“We will,” Gella assured her. “I hope you get some rest.”
“Thanks. Here’s your bill, since you’re in a hurry.” She tore the top sheet of paper from her little pad and placed it face down on the table.
She started to walk away then turned back to Sasha. “I’m sorry I was short with you.”
“No apology needed. You’re just tired—trust me, I get it. I have three-year-old twins at home. I’ve been there.” Sasha smiled at her.
She cocked her head. “That’s funny. I waited on a guy last night who has three-year-old twins, too.”
Sasha laughed politely and watched her walk away. Through a dull fog, her exhausted brain tried to grab hold of something the waitress had said. Something important, but the words slipped out of reach.
“Sasha? The settlement offer?” Gella prompted her gently as she peeled open a creamer cup and stirred the contents into her coffee.
Sasha shook her head to clear out the cobwebs, as her dad liked to say.
“Sorry, I got distracted.” She took a drink of coffee and refocused. “It’s highly unusual to get a substantial settlement offer this soon after filing suit. And it’s unheard of to have such a short time to decide whether to accept it.”
“It’s almost as if Asher and Sentinel Solution Systems are trying to make this go away because they have something to hide,” her client mused.
“No, it’s exactly as if that’s what they’re doing.”
“So, I should say no?”
Sasha rubbed a hand over her eyes. “It’s a generous offer. And, as you and I talked about, proving that DoGiveThrive has been damaged and establishing a dollar amount will be tricky.”
“So I should take it?”
She hemmed. “Let me put it another way. It’s a generous, but worrying, offer. It just feels wrong. Why don’t I call Ms. Washington while we’re on our way to Sheila Johnson’s house? I’ll try to tease out some more information and a get a sense of her clients’ motivation.”
“I suppose.”
“Besides, I imagine you’ll need to run the offer and your response past your Board?”
“Ordinarily, yes. But we won’t have time for that,” Gella fretted.
“Oh, I’ll push back against the noon deadline—hard. It’s ludicrous to extend a settlement offer with a four-hour shelf life. If nothing else, she ought to be willing to give you more time.”
Gella chewed on her lip, nodding. “And, I suppose
if she’s not, that would tell us something.”
“It would.”
And if it turned out Washington wasn’t bluffing and the offer did expire at noon, it would be an expensive piece of information. Sasha didn’t generally enjoy gambling with other people’s money. But she also didn’t allow her clients to be pushed into making snap judgments.
“Okay. I don’t see any other option. I’m not prepared to accept an offer right now, so go ahead and call her.” She peeked at her watch. “We should go.”
She reached for her purse, but Sasha waved her off. “My treat.”
She flipped over the bill and covered it with a ten. Then, she recalled Dana’s tired, resigned eyes and the fact that she was working a double shift. She replaced the ten with a twenty and stood.
“After you.”
27
Sasha followed Gella’s VW bug up the long, sloping driveway that led from the road to Essiah Wheaton and Sheila Johnson’s house. The driveway forked off to a small parking pad set in front of the house before continuing back to a garage structure. Gella took the fork and parked. Sasha did, as well.
The house was screened by a row of large, flowering bushes that began on either side of the low porch and curved around to the back. Sasha turned and looked down to the road. The location and landscaping afforded almost total privacy.
She joined Gella on the screened-in porch.
“Did you talk to the attorney?”
“No, which is perfect. I left a message explaining that you and I are about to enter a meeting and can’t be interrupted. I expressed interest in the concept of settling but said we really need to speak about specifics. If we haven’t connected by noon, it would be bad form, bordering on misconduct, for her to withdraw the offer. And, don’t worry—I’ll be sure we don’t connect by noon.” She flashed her client a reassuring smile.
Gella rang the doorbell.
The faint sound of shoes clicking against a hard surface came from inside the house, growing louder. The door opened.
A tall woman wearing a black suit dress and black heels stood in the doorway. She was pale, but her hair was coiffed and her makeup was perfectly applied. Essiah Wheaton’s widow looked more pulled together than Sasha felt.
Intentional Acts Page 14
