CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Second Act Success office building looked just a little more ominous than on their visit the day before, even though they were entering through the doors pretty close to the same time as their previous visit.
The sun had dropped below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep purple that made the modern glass and steel structure seem almost cold.
The parking lot was nearly empty, just a handful of cars scattered across the spaces.
Kate parked near the entrance and killed the engine.
Beside her, Sloane was already unbuckling her seatbelt, her expression set with determination.
They'd discussed their approach during the drive over, and both agreed that Crawford had been holding back information during their first visit.
Now, with three women dead and all of them connected to his promotional materials, they needed full access to his records.
"If he tries to stall us again," Sloane said as they approached the building, "I'm done being polite."
"Agreed," Kate said. "Three victims in one day.
We don't have time for corporate protection games. If he gets very defensive, he may tell us we need a warrant. But I also think he’d want to avoid that sort of activity at all costs.
So if we steer the conversation properly, he may not even think to suggest such a thing. "
Inside, the lobby was dim, most of the overhead lights turned off for the evening.
Only the security lighting remained, casting long shadows across the polished floor.
Kate could see light coming from the second-floor windows where Crawford's office was located.
She pushed through the glass doors and headed for the stairs, Sloane following close behind.
The second floor hallway was quiet except for the sound of their footsteps on the carpet. Paula’s desk sat empty, her computer monitor dark. But the door to Crawford's office stood open, and Kate could see him inside, hunched over his laptop at his desk.
Crawford looked up as they entered, and Kate saw recognition flash across his face followed quickly by something that looked like dread.
He straightened in his chair, his hand moving almost unconsciously toward his laptop as if to close it.
He also seemed to make an extra effort to keep his face as neutral as possible.
"Agents," he said. His voice was tight. "I didn't expect to see you back here tonight."
"We need access to your program records," Kate said without preamble. "All of them. Financial documents, internal communications, participant files, everything related to Second Act Success that you didn’t show us yesterday."
Crawford's expression shifted to something between defensive and calculating. "I already gave you access to the graduate records. What more do you need?"
"Everything," Sloane said. She moved further into the office, her eyes scanning the space.
"We have three dead women, Mr. Crawford.
Another died today… Susan Hayes. All of them were graduates of your program, all of them featured in your promotional videos.
Whatever's happening is connected to Second Act Success—there’s just no ignoring that now. And we need to see the full picture."
"I understand your concern," Crawford said, "but some of that information is proprietary.” Kate could see that he was panicked now, unsure how to handle this new development.
“But business plans, financial records, those are protected materials.
I can't just hand them over without proper legal documentation. "
He’s going to ask for a warrant, she thought. She knew it wouldn’t be a problem to get one, but that would waste hours. Considering the time of day, they may not even get it until tomorrow.
Kate pulled out her phone. "I can have a warrant here within the hour,” she lied. “But that's going to look bad for you and your program. Alternatively, you can cooperate now and show us you're trying to help solve these murders. I mean… if you have nothing to hide, what’s the issue?”
Crawford hesitated, his jaw working as he considered his options. Kate could see the conflict playing out on his face. He didn't want to give them access, but he also didn't want to appear obstructive in a triple homicide investigation.
"Fine," he said finally. "But I need to review what you're looking at.
Some of these documents contain sensitive information about other participants, people who have nothing to do with this investigation.
I need to protect their privacy. That means you can look at whatever you need, but you cannot take photos. "
"That's not how this works," Sloane said.
Crawford's hand moved again toward his laptop, and this time Kate saw the intention in the gesture. He wasn't closing it to protect privacy. He was planning to delete something.
"Mr. Crawford…" Kate warned.
But Crawford was already moving. His fingers hit the keyboard, and Kate saw windows start closing on the screen. He was accessing files, deleting them or moving them or doing something to obscure evidence.
Sloane moved faster than Kate would have thought possible.
One moment she was standing near the doorway, and the next she was across the office.
Crawford saw her coming and did his best to run away.
But he took three long, running strides toward the door when Sloane held out her forearm.
She connected with Crawford's chest in a stiff blow that caused both feet to come off of the floor and sent him sprawling backward hard.
In a wrestling match, she was quite sure this move was called a clothesline.
Kate stared in shock. Sloane was thin, almost fragile-looking with her slight frame and delicate features. But the speed and strength she'd just displayed suggested something else entirely. Crawford hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He lay there gasping, his eyes wide.
"What the hell?" he wheezed.
Sloane stepped over him and grabbed the laptop, pulling it away from his reach. "You were destroying evidence."
Kate recovered from her surprise and moved quickly to Crawford, pulling out her handcuffs. "David Crawford, you're under arrest for obstruction of justice."
"But I haven’t done anything!" Crawford protested, but his voice lacked conviction. He was still trying to catch his breath from Sloane's blow. “You can't just arrest me!”
Kate knew it was a flimsy charge and that if he was taken in, he’d be released within a matter of hours. But for now, it seemed like the wisest move. Besides… just what in the hell had he been deleting?
"I absolutely can," Kate said, pulling his arms behind his back and securing the cuffs. "You just attempted to destroy evidence in a federal murder investigation. That's a felony."
She hauled Crawford to his feet and guided him forcefully into one of the chairs across from his desk. He slumped in the seat, his face red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
"Sit there and don't move," Kate said. "Whatever you were trying to hide, we're going to find it. Try to run, and that’s an additional charge to hold you on."
“I don’t… God, I don’t understand what the hell is happening!”
Ignoring him completely, Sloane had already opened the laptop and was scanning through the open windows. "He was in the cloud storage. Looks like he was trying to move files to a hidden folder. But I’m not exactly a tech whiz. W may have to call in for an assist."
Kate moved to stand beside her, looking at the screen. Several file directories were visible, with names like "Program Records 2021-2024," "Participant Submissions," and "Business Plan Archive." One window showed a file transfer in progress, but Sloane had interrupted it before it could complete.
"Stop the transfer," Kate said.
Sloane's fingers moved across the keyboard, canceling the operation. "Okay, got it. The files are still in the original location…. oh, but it looks like a few were successfully transferred."
From his chair, Crawford made a sound of frustration. Kate glanced at him and saw defeat settling into his expression. Whatever he'd been trying to hide, he knew now that they weren’t too far away from finding it.
Kate pulled up another chair and positioned it next to Sloane so they could both see the laptop screen.
The office felt different now, charged with tension and the promise of revelation.
Outside the windows, the evening had deepened into full darkness, the city lights creating a backdrop of illuminated buildings and streets.
"Start with the participant submissions folder," Kate said.
Sloane navigated to the directory and opened it. Inside were dozens of subfolders, each labeled with a year and cohort number. She clicked on one at random, labeled "2023 - Cohort 3," and found herself looking at a collection of PDF files.
"Business plans," Sloane said, opening one. "This is Patricia Holmes's submission. The landscaping business."
Kate leaned closer, reading through the document.
It was professionally formatted, with market analysis, financial projections, and a detailed description of Patricia Holmes's vision for her company.
It was very well done and put together… the kind of document that would have taken weeks to develop.
Sloane opened another file. "And look… here’s Rachel Thornton's business plan."
Kate compared the two documents, noting the similarities in formatting and structure. That made sense if Crawford was providing templates. But as she read through Thornton's plan, something caught her attention.
"Look at this section," Kate said, pointing to a paragraph describing innovative client retention strategies. "The phrasing is almost identical to something in Holmes's plan."