Look Closely - Laura Caldwell [8]
I moved around my bed to the corner of the room where I’d set up a desk and computer. I opened the top drawer and took out the envelope. I lifted the flap to make sure the letter was still there, then I read it once more. There is no statute of limitations on murder. Look closely.
2
The opulent Chicago headquarters of McKnight Corporation were housed on the top floors of their State Street department store. Marble-decked with gold fixtures, I assumed that it was supposed to bring to mind old world elegance. Personally, I found the place overdone. It reminded me of some of the homes in my dad’s neighborhood in Manhasset—all show and no warmth.
The receptionist escorted me to the top floor and into a conference room where paintings of the flagship store hung in gold-leafed frames. I was there to meet with Beth Halverson, McKnight Corporation’s in-house counsel, and Sean McKnight whom I hadn’t yet met. Then I would review my notes and get ready for opening arguments that afternoon.
I had the buzz, that taut, high-strung feeling I always got when I was on trial or in an arbitration. But now I was even more on edge since I’d been sideswiped with the new information about possible shady dealings in McKnight’s takeover of Fieldings Company.
“Hi, Hailey, welcome to Chicago.”
I stood to greet Beth Halverson, an impeccably dressed woman in her late thirties with stylish, short blond hair. I’d always found Beth competent and agreeable, and I was thrilled that she’d decided to give us McKnight’s business, but I had a bone to pick with her this time.
She seemed to read my mind. “I want you to know that I found out about the Fieldings allegations the same way you did. By reading the paper yesterday.”
“I mean no disrespect, but I find that hard to believe.” On a side table, coffee, juices and pastries had been set out. I poured myself a cup of coffee and added a few drops of skim milk, exactly the way my mom used to.
“Look,” Beth said. “I only came on as general counsel a year and a half ago.”
I turned around to see her shutting the conference-room door.
“What I found,” Beth said in a lowered voice, glancing at the closed door, “was that this place is run exactly the way Sean wants it.”
I took my seat again. “And what does that mean?”
Beth walked around the table, coming closer to me, and leaned on it with both arms. “It means that Sean doesn’t want anyone to talk about the Fieldings takeover, so no one does. I wasn’t apprised of the rumors. I never heard of any of the allegations until that article. Honestly, I wouldn’t keep that from you.”
I had only worked with Beth for a year or so, but she seemed like a straight shooter, and I believed her. “It’s just that I don’t know anything about that takeover,” I said. “I don’t know how to refute the allegations. I feel like I’ve been completely ambushed.”
Beth slumped into a chair. “God, I feel the same way. I even thought about quitting, but this is a great job when I don’t have to deal with the boss. I don’t know what to tell you except what I’ve learned about the Fieldings deal since yesterday.”
“I think I’d better hear it from McKnight himself. Where is he, by the way?”
Beth gave a shake of her blond head. “He should be here any minute. You’ve heard what he’s like?”
“I’ve heard he’s an asshole,” I said, deciding that now wasn’t the time to mince words.
I saw Beth’s face go slack, then heard a rough laugh behind me. I swung around to see a man standing in the now open conference doorway. He must have been in his late fifties, but the trim body and the immaculate blue suit made him look younger. His salt-and-pepper hair was brushed away from his sharply angled face.