CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sloane found Lauren Mitchell's information in less than ten minutes.
She had searched the Second Act Success records first, finding Mitchell's participant file with an old address and phone number.
A quick online search revealed that Mitchell had returned to practicing law and was now working at a small family law firm called Mitchell & Associates on the west side of Richmond.
Kate could have found all of it on her own, but she was still very impressed with Sloane’s tenacity, speed, and determination.
"She's back to practicing law," Sloane said, reading from her laptop screen. "Family law, specifically. Looks like she has her own practice."
"So, let’s pay her a visit," Kate said.
The drive across town took twenty minutes through mid-morning traffic.
Kate drove while Sloane pulled up what information she could find about Mitchell's business.
The website was simple and professional, listing services for divorce, custody disputes, and adoption cases.
There were no reviews or testimonials, which suggested the practice was relatively new or at least newly online.
One of the prominent taglines referred to the apt attention and a personal touch that bigger firms could not provide.
They found the office in a converted house on a quiet street lined with similar buildings that had been turned into small businesses.
The neighborhood was one of those that had both an older feel to it, but with a modern sort of twist. The house was painted pale yellow with white trim, and a small wooden sign hung beside the front door that read "Mitchell & Associates, Family Law. "
Kate and Sloane climbed the steps to the front porch.
The door was unlocked, and they entered into what had once been a living room but was now a reception area.
The space was tiny, but cozy, with a small desk positioned near the window and two chairs arranged against the opposite wall.
A bookshelf held legal texts and a few framed certificates.
Everything was tidy and well-organized, the kind of space that suggested its owner was trying to make the most of limited resources.
A woman in her early fifties sat at the desk, working on a laptop. She had shoulder-length brown hair pulled back with a clip and wore a navy blazer over a white blouse. She looked up when they entered, and Kate recognized Lauren right away from her pictures on the website.
"Can I help you?" Lauren Mitchell asked.
Kate pulled out her credentials. "Ms. Mitchell? I'm Agent Kate Wise with the FBI. This is Agent Erica Sloane. We'd like to ask you some questions about the Second Act Success program."
Mitchell's expression shifted immediately. The professional politeness vanished, replaced by something harder and more guarded. "I should have known someone would come asking about that eventually." She shook her head and then gave the agents her full attention. “What do you need to know?”
"We're investigating the deaths of Patricia Holmes and Rachel Thornton," Sloane said.
Mitchell looked shocked for a moment, her eyes wandering, “My God… I’d heard about Rachel. But Patricia, too? Jesus, when did that happen?”
“Two nights ago,” Sloane said. “Did you know both of them?”
"Well, I knew Rachel quite well. I only knew Patricia on a passing basis, you know? I knew who she was, but we weren't close or anything like that." He shook his head as if to clear cobwebs out of it and then gestured toward the two chairs. "Please, sit down."
Kate and Sloane took the seats. The office felt even smaller with all three of them in it, but Mitchell seemed comfortable in the space. She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands on the desk.
"I assume you know I tried to sue Crawford and his program," Mitchell said. “Is that why you’re here?”
"Yes, we learned about that," Kate said. "Can you tell us what happened?"
"Well, I went through the program two years ago," Mitchell said.
Her voice was calm but carried an edge of bitterness.
"I had been practicing law for twenty years, got burned out, and thought maybe I could start something new.
Crawford made it sound so achievable. He had all these success stories, all these women who had transformed their lives through his program. "
"But your experience was different," Sloane said.
"My experience was a waste of time and money.
" Mitchell's jaw tightened. "The program cost fifteen thousand dollars.
They promised personalized mentorship, business planning support, and networking opportunities.
What I got was generic advice and a bunch of worksheets I could have downloaded for free online. "
“And you didn’t take notice of this until you’d started your own business?” Sloane asked. “Seems like that’s the sort of thing you might bring up near the end of the course.”
Mitchell looked slightly embarrassed as he nodded. "Yes, I suppose…Well, I guess on some level, I did know. But I really wanted to believe it wasn’t so…that it would all sort itself out when I started my business.”
Kate made notes on her phone. "What kind of business did you try to start?"
"Legal consulting for small businesses. I thought I could use my background to help entrepreneurs navigate contracts and regulations. But the business failed after four months. I couldn't get clients, couldn't generate enough revenue to cover my costs. It was a disaster."
"And you blamed the program for that," Sloane said.
"No, not exactly. I blamed Crawford for selling me a dream that had no foundation in reality.
" Mitchell's voice rose slightly. "He's a con artist, not a businessman.
He targets vulnerable women, women who are looking for a change or a second chance, and he takes their money while promising them success that most of them will never achieve. "
Kate watched Mitchell's face carefully. The anger was real and deep, but it seemed to be focused entirely on Crawford. "What about the women who did succeed after the program? Women like Patricia Holmes and Rachel Thornton?"
Mitchell's expression softened slightly. "If they succeeded, it was because of their own hard work and wherewithal, not because of anything Crawford taught them. Some people are just naturally good at business, I guess. They would have succeeded with or without his program."
"You don't think the program helped them at all?"
"I think the program took their money and gave them very little in return," Mitchell said. "But I don't resent them for succeeding where I failed. Good for them. I'm genuinely sad that someone killed them. That's horrible."
Sloane leaned forward slightly. "Do you have any idea who might want to hurt them? Right now, Second Act is the only thing linking them."
"No." Mitchell shook her head. "I didn't know either of them personally. I just saw their faces in Crawford's marketing materials, heard their names mentioned as success stories."
"What about Crawford himself?" Kate asked. "Do you think he could be involved in something like this?"
Mitchell considered this for a moment. "I don't like the man, but I can't see him killing his own success stories. Those women were so-called proof that his program worked. Why would he eliminate his best marketing tools?"
"That's a good point," Kate said.
"Look, Crawford is a con artist who preys on vulnerable women with empty promises," Mitchell said. "But he's not a murderer. He's just a greedy businessman who doesn't care about the damage he does to people's lives and bank accounts."
"Ms. Mitchell, I need to ask where you were last Thursday evening and two nights ago.”
The question was abrupt and out of nowhere, and very abrupt—in other words, the standard for what Kate was beginning to see as Sloane's method of investigation.
Kate expected Mitchell to bristle at the question, to get defensive or demand a lawyer.
Instead, Mitchell simply nodded as if she had been expecting this.
"I understand," she said. "Thursday evening I was here working until about seven, then I went home.
I live alone, so no one can verify that.
Oh, though I did go out for drinks with my sister around 8:30 or so.
We were out until about ten. Friday morning I had a client meeting at nine.
I can give you her name and contact information. "
"That would be helpful," Sloane said.
Mitchell turned to her laptop and pulled up her calendar. She wrote down the client's information on a piece of paper and handed it to Sloane. " His name is Brian Colegrove. He's going through a custody dispute. We met here in this office from nine until eleven on Friday morning."
"Were you here alone on Thursday evening?" Kate asked.
"No, I had a client meeting that ran late. It ended around six-thirty. His name is David Park, and he was here with his wife discussing a prenuptial agreement. I can give you their information as well."
Mitchell wrote down more contact information and passed it to Sloane. She did all of this without hesitation, without any sign that she was offended by the questions. She simply provided what they needed and waited for them to continue.
"You don't seem bothered by us asking for alibis," Sloane observed with a bit of bite.
"I was a lawyer for twenty years," Mitchell said. "I understand how investigations work. Two women were murdered, and I publicly tried to sue the program they both went through. Of course you'd want to verify my whereabouts. I'd be doing the same thing if I were in your position."
Kate appreciated the straightforward response. Mitchell might be bitter about her experience with Second Act Success, but she understood the situation and wasn't trying to make their job harder.
"Is there anything else you can tell us about the program?" Kate asked. "Anyone else who might have had issues with Crawford or with the successful graduates?"
Mitchell thought about this for a moment.
"There's a private Facebook group for program participants. I honestly don’t even know if it’s active anymore.
People were using it to network and share resources, but there's also been a lot of venting about businesses failing and feeling like the program oversold what it could deliver. You might find something useful there, if it’s still operational. "
"If it is still up, can you get us access to that group?" Sloane asked.
"I left it months ago," Mitchell said. "But I can give you the name. You'd need to contact the administrators to get in."
She wrote down the Facebook group name on a nearby sticky note and handed it to Kate. "Most of the people in there are just frustrated and disappointed. But maybe someone took their frustration to an extreme."
Kate and Sloane stood up. "Thank you for your time," Kate said. "We may need to follow up with you later."
"That's fine," Mitchell said. "Come by for a visit or call."
As they walked back to the car, Sloane looked at the notes she had taken. "She was almost too cooperative."
"She's a lawyer," Kate said. "She knows that being difficult wouldn't help her. And I think her anger really is directed at Crawford, not at the women who succeeded."
"I still want to verify the alibis."
"Oh absolutely," Kate said. "But yes, I think we can probably rule her out."
They got into the car and Kate started the engine.
Through the window, she could see Mitchell back at her desk, already returning to work on her laptop.
The tiny office looked warm and inviting through the window in the late morning light, a small space where someone was trying to rebuild after failure.
Kate pulled away from the curb and headed back toward the field office. They had alibis to verify and a Facebook group to investigate. The case was starting to take shape, now held together by more than a pair of gifted letter-openers.