“After things really started to crumble between them, Keith came to my dad with a proposal to split the business—this was in early 2000—and Dad agreed. They spent a couple months splitting assets and operations. My father had always been more involved in the manufacturing side of things, while Keith had focused on sales and marketing. By the time they had divided things up, I thought they might even preserve their friendship. My father was led to believe that Keith would continue buying from him and that he could focus on manufacturing without Keith’s interference.”
“Led to believe?” Sadie repeated. “I’m assuming that isn’t what happened.”
May’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Weeks after the split—I guess it would have been February 2000—Keith landed a huge contract with one of the largest commercial contractors in northern Oregon: C-Spec Development. His portion of the initial deal was nearly half a million dollars, an amount that he and my dad would have shared if they were still in business together. There’s no way Keith negotiated that contract in so short a time, and we all suddenly realized why Keith had wanted to split in the first place.”
“To cut your dad out?”
“Exactly,” May said with a sharp nod. “They’d been building up this company for fifteen years and only just begun the commercial side of things, which is where the big money is. It had been slow going. The commercial market is competitive, and the contracts are notoriously complicated. Keith had likely worked the C-Spec contract for several months. When Dad confronted him about it, Keith denied it—of course. Whatever relationship they had managed to salvage while splitting the company was gone. Keith didn’t use Dad for the manufacturing; he built himself a new office and began marketing for commercial contracts.”
“And your father? How did he do with his new company?” Sadie asked, even though she knew from the website that S&S Suppression was a much smaller company than the new Kelly Fire Systems.
“Without a sales arm, Dad struggled. I moved to Ohio, and the company shrank down to just him, Hugh, Jolene, and a couple other employees. It was tough, especially when Keith seemed to do better and better every year. Eventually, Dad made some connections to other sales companies and began doing well for himself again. And then he . . . died.”
“Suspiciously,” Sadie added. This is where her attempts to gather information online had come to an end. Public records indicated nothing out of the ordinary about Jim Sanderson’s death. He died of a heart attack a month ago, nothing more.
“I think so,” May said. She opened her mouth, but closed it when the waitress approached the table.
“Are you ladies ready to order?” the young woman asked. Sadie scanned the menu while May gave her order—something called a turquoise salad.
“What’s this salmon and mushroom pasta?” Sadie asked, pointing at the last item on the menu.
“Today’s special. It’s pasta with salmon and mushrooms in a cream sauce.”
“Is it good?”
“If you like pasta, salmon, and mushrooms it is.” The waitress shrugged one shoulder. “Personally, I have fungus issues.”
Sadie held back a smile but threw a look toward the double doors that she assumed led to the kitchen. She wondered what Karri would say about her employee’s issues with fungus.
“Well,” Sadie said, “I’ll eat just about anything as long as it tastes good. I’ll take it.”
The woman shrugged again as if to appear nonjudgmental of Sadie’s liberal eating habits and gathered the menus. Sadie was determined to eat as many new things as possible while on this trip; now would be a perfect start.
“Sorry,” Sadie said, turning her attention back to May. “Where were we? Oh, right, you said you think your father’s death was suspicious?”
“Right,” May said with a nod toward the folder she’d handed Sadie a few minutes earlier. “I put a copy of his death certificate in the folder. It came yesterday. It says he died of a cardiac event.”
“And your father didn’t have heart problems,” Sadie assumed, opening the file.
“Well, he’d recently had an angiogram that showed some buildup that his cardiologist was worried about, but it wasn’t bad enough for a heart attack. Dad was in great physical health—well, except for the forty pounds he’d put on over the last ten years or so.”
Sadie kept her expression neutral. An overweight man with heart issues having a heart attack wasn’t much of a smoking gun. Sadie thought back to her husband, Neil, who had died of a massive heart attack more than twenty years ago. He didn’t have diagnosed heart problems and wasn’t overweight. He’d been having a little chest pain the weeks prior, and Sadie had bullied him into making an appointment he thought was unnecessary. The doctor’s office had called to remind him of the appointment two days after the funeral.
Shaking off the painful memories, she shuffled through the papers until she found the copy of the death certificate. The exact date of his death was July 16. “What makes you think he was murdered? That’s a pretty strong accusation—that someone killed him.”
May rested her crossed arms on the table and leaned forward, her expression intent. “Last year, my dad secured a patent on a new low-pressure atomizer he’d spent four years designing.”
“What’s an atomizer?” Sadie asked, writing furiously and having serious thoughts about her ability to read her own handwriting when the time came to review these notes.
“It’s the nozzle part of a suppression system that the water sprays through,” May said, pointing at the ceiling.
Instead of the spur-looking sprinklers Sadie was used to seeing, these were little metal mounds on the ceiling with a hole in the middle and painted the same color as the ceiling.
“Dad designed Karri’s system a few years ago,” May explained, looking at the atomizers as well. “The new atomizer got a lot of attention in the industry. Dad and Hugh were barely able to keep up with orders. But when Kelly Fire Systems tried to place an order, Dad refused to sell to Keith. Dad told me all about it because it was the first time he’d been in the power position since the split.”
“I’m sure it was very personally satisfying,” Sadie said, thinking Jim’s decision was also rather smug. “But it doesn’t seem like a wise business decision. A buyer is a buyer.”
May didn’t seem to get Sadie’s point. “Keith was probably already getting them from another company Dad would sell to. At least, that’s what Hugh thinks. But since Keith was the only supplier Dad refused to sell to, even if Keith bought them from someone else, he’d pay more than anyone else. Keith doesn’t like to lose, and Dad was sticking it to him.”
Sounded a bit like poking a sleeping bear to Sadie. “And so you think that Keith thought if your dad was gone, Hugh would sell to him?”
May furrowed her brow as though she hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe,” she finally said, but Sadie could hear the discomfort in her voice. “Or he’s just a homicidal maniac who finally had reason enough to take out someone who had become his arch nemesis and finally beaten him at something.”
Sadie made a note about May having a dramatic bent; it would be an important detail to remember. However, dramatic bent notwithstanding, Sadie began piecing together a possible scenario in her mind: Keith tries to smooth ruffled feathers in order to shore up his own business, Jim refuses, and bam, he’s dead! It wouldn’t be the first time someone took out the competition. Sadie’s notes were still illegible; she’d have to rewrite them completely as soon as she got back to the hotel. “Had Keith made some kind of threat against your father?”
May shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
“Perhaps Keith met with your dad personally and tried to sway him?”
“I’m sure Dad would have told me about that if it had happened.”
Sadie tried not to show her disappointment. Sadie’s imagined scenario was still possible, but killing Jim Sanderson without threats or attempts at a reconciliation seemed . . . far-fetched. Surely May had some solid reasoning to feel the
way she did, right?
May continued, “At least, Keith never attempted to push the issue one way or another before Dad died.”
Sadie pricked back up. “But he did something afterward?”
“He wrote us a letter a week and a half ago,” May said. “We were all starting to get over the shock of everything, and then all three of us kids got a certified letter from the illustrious Keith Kelly.” She pointed to the manila folder again, and Sadie shuffled pages until she found the Kelly Fire Systems letterhead. The sound of chirping birds caught her off guard, and she looked up to see May pull her cell phone from her purse—or rather, a Blackberry. Sadie thought they were too big to be convenient but realized she was in the minority.
“Sorry,” May said, pushing a button to cut off the chirping. “I’ll call them back.”
“You can take the call,” Sadie said, curious as to who it was.
May shook her head and dropped her Blackberry into her purse. “It’s not urgent.” She waved toward the folder, and Sadie looked back at the letter.
Dear Jolene, Hugh, and Sharla-May,
I was deeply saddened to hear of the death of your father. Despite our differences, I have always had a very high opinion of him and was sorry to hear of your loss. With his death being so unexpected, I thought perhaps I could assist you in determining how to continue his pursuits by offering to purchase S&S Suppression. Without him at the helm, I can see how continuation would be difficult. I would like to help. Please contact my attorney directly to discuss the situation. He is fully versed on my intended offer and is prepared to handle all aspects associated with the purchase.
Sincerely,
Keith Kelly
CEO/Owner Kelly Fire Systems
“Wow,” Sadie said, scanning the letter a second time in search of some emotion. “It sure is . . . professional.”
“Exactly,” May said, her tone showing her disgust. “He’s always been so arrogant and opportunistic, but he didn’t even have the decency to let us deal with Dad’s death before he swooped in, ready to save us from the best thing that could ever happen to his company.”
Sadie looked at May and suppressed her desire to give motherly advice. Putting May on the defensive would not work in her best interest, but not challenging some of the information wouldn’t help her build a solid foundation for her investigation. So far, this was all very circumstantial, and even that was shaky. “Is there anything else that makes you think Keith’s a murderer?”
“Like I said, the timing is just too perfect.” May’s certainty made Sadie uncomfortable. May was hurting and might very well be looking for someone to blame for her pain. Sadie thought back to Pete’s advice that she get all the information up front before she accepted the job. Perhaps she should have listened. “Keith had access to all kinds of chemicals used in suppression systems. Couldn’t some kind of chemical be used to induce a heart attack?”
That was a good point, and Sadie nodded, reading over the death certificate again. Cause of death was listed as sudden cardiac death—or a massive heart attack, just like Neil. The significant condition contributing to death was listed as heart disease. James Earl Sanderson had been sixty-eight. Another person may have thought that was old, that he should be retired and playing golf all day, but Sadie was fifty-six and could keep his age and ambition in the proper perspective. “Did they do an autopsy to confirm the cause of death?”
“No. Because he had a history of heart disease and there was no evidence of it being anything else, his doctor was able to certify his death without one. I guess that’s typical in older people under a doctor’s care.”
“It was an unattended death,” Sadie said, not asking, just reading the information on the certificate. “At his home?”
May nodded and pursed her lips together. Sadie could practically read her mind—she didn’t like that her father had died alone. For some reason, that was hard to think about when you lost someone you loved. Sadie wondered where May’s mother was. Were May’s parents divorced? Had Jim been a widower?
“And you didn’t request an autopsy?” In Colorado, you could request an autopsy even if a death was certified as natural causes.
May shook her head. “I didn’t suspect anything until I got Keith’s letter—certified—two weeks after Dad’s funeral. Then I—”
The waitress approached with their meals, and May fell silent and moved her hands off the table to make room for their plates. They both fiddled with their meals, salting and peppering to get the flavors just right. The turquoise salad ended up being named after the colored tortilla strips on top, but it was Sadie’s meal that held her attention. Sadie concentrated hard on the first bite of the pasta dish. She’d expected an Alfredo-type sauce, but it didn’t have a cheese base. It was good and didn’t overpower the subtlety of the mushrooms or salmon.
She was on her third bite and already composing the recipe to duplicate the dish at home when May spoke, causing Sadie to look up and remember she wasn’t alone. Food had a way of monopolizing her attention sometimes.
“I mentioned my suspicions to Jolene and Hugh, and they think I’m crazy. A lot of things changed between us when I left Portland. We weren’t raised religious, but I’ve found great comfort in my faith since then. I attend a community Christian church in Ohio, and my family isn’t sure what to think of that. And, I mean, we’ve lived in different states for a long time. I’m the baby sister.” She shrugged. “I don’t think they like that I think I know better than they do.”
Sadie swallowed her bite. “So how do they feel about me being here?”
May squinched up her face. “Well,” she said carefully, “I told them a friend of mine was coming to help me get Dad’s house packed up. We’ve decided to sell it and split the proceeds, which was one of the options Dad gave us in his trust. It makes the most sense.”
Sadie set down her fork and looked at May closely. “You don’t want them to know my real reason for being here?”
“Not yet,” May said, looking down at her salad. A moment later she lifted her head, an apologetic look in her blue eyes. “I know that makes things a little awkward, but they are both dealing with so much that I really don’t want to bother them about it until I have some proof.”
“I had really hoped to talk to them in order to flesh out the details,” Sadie stated, feeling bold. She took another bite of her meal. She was distracted by this newest detail May had thrown at her, but not that distracted.
“I’m giving you full access to Dad’s business files at the house,” May said. “And I’ll introduce you to Hugh and Jolene as my friend, but I’d rather they not know what you’re really doing here until, like I said, I have something to back up my suspicions.”
Sadie frowned, and May seemed to pick up on her disappointment.
“If at some point you feel like you have to talk to them, I’ll explain things,” May said. “I’d just rather wait a little while.” She paused. “I have to know if Keith is as desperate for Dad’s new atomizer as I think he is.” She went back to her salad, but her face was tense. “I really think that’s the key to all of this.”
Sadie might see holes in May’s reasoning, but May was sincere in her feelings and clearly hadn’t made the decision to hire Sadie lightly.
“Um, I did want to tell you that, although I’ve been involved with this sort of thing before, I don’t usually get paid for it.” By usually she meant ever.
May looked up at her, confused. Sadie continued. “I’m not an official private investigator,” she said, feeling rather small. “I mean, I’m working toward it, but . . . ”
“That’s okay,” May said, shrugging slightly. “I’m fine with all that.”
“Well, good,” Sadie said, relieved to have addressed that issue. She twirled pasta on her fork again.
They both ate in silence for a few minutes, then May leaned forward, her eyes pleading. “You have to understand, Sadie, that Mr. Kelly will hurt people if it means getting what he wants. He’s
done it before and not lost a night’s sleep over the lives he’s destroyed. I think he wanted Dad’s creation, and I think I’m an orphan because of it.”
“Lives?” Sadie repeated. What was May not telling her? Orphan?
May picked up her fork and knife, cutting the salad into smaller pieces. It was really just stalling, which Sadie found interesting.
“We were all affected by what Keith did to Dad when they split the business. After all these years, Dad had something Keith wanted, and when he couldn’t get it, he killed my father. I hired you to find the proof I need to show the world that Mr. Kelly is the slimeball I’ve always known him to be.”
Sadie opened her mouth to ask more questions, like how, exactly, was May affected, and why did she leave Portland, and when had her mother died, but the words dissolved on her tongue as the waitress leaned over with a dessert tray in her hand. Sadie laid down her fork in reverence as she looked between cheesecake and apple crisp and a four-layer chocolate parfait with chocolate shavings on top.
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