“Did you need to see me?” Mrs. Sweeney asked.

“Yes, thank you,” May said. “Jessup has a question for you.”

“Do you still have Mr. Major’s cell phone?” Jessup asked. “It’s not at his house and we can’t find it at the office.”

Mrs. Sweeney shook her head, “No.  He always had it with him though. He died at home. That’s where it should be.”

“Who discovered his body?” Jessup asked.

“Consuelo,” May interjected. “She arrived at six-thirty in the morning. She saw his car in the drive so she knew he was home. When he didn’t answer her call, she found him lying beside his bed. The coroner said he’d been dead about eight hours when she found him.”

“Who did she call?”

“She called an ambulance, then she called Mr. Marbury. Then she called me,” Mrs. Sweeney said. “I rushed right over. Mr. Marbury was already there. The ambulance was just arriving.”

“So, Marbury was at the house already when you arrived?” Jessup asked.

“Yes, when I walked in, he was already in Mr. Mike’s bedroom,” she said.

“Did you see if he had Mr. Major’s cell phone in his hand?”

“No, I didn’t think about it.  Why do you ask?”

“Mrs. Sweeney, May and I believe Marbury had Mr. Major’s emails deleted because it worried him that someone would find information that might hurt him, hurt the investors or disrupt the sale of the company.”

“And you think copies of his emails would still be on his phone?” Mrs. Sweeney asked.

“We do, but we can’t find the phone,” May said.

“If what you believe is true, then Marbury has that phone,” she said.

“That’s what we are afraid of,” Jessup said.

“But we don’t need his phone,” Mrs. Sweeney said with a wry smile.

“What do you mean?” May wondered.

“I didn’t even think about this until just now, but Mr. Mike set up a Gmail account his phone,” Mrs. Sweeney said. “All his work emails were forwarded to that Gmail account.”

“Holy crap, that’s great news!” Jessup exclaimed.

“I don’t understand,” May said. “Don’t we still need the phone?”

“No,” Jessup said. “I think was Mrs. Sweeney was saying is that your father went into his work email and had all his emails forwarded to his Gmail account and that’s what he used to read them on his phone. Correct?”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Sweeney said. “He couldn’t set up his phone to work with the servers at Major Timber so he did a work around.”

“I’m surprised the IT department didn’t throw a fit,” Jessup said.

“They did… but he’s the boss,” Mrs. Sweeney replied.

“We need his Gmail address and his password,” Jessup said. “We can get every email he ever wrote or read… provided he didn’t delete them.”

“He never deleted his emails,” Mrs. Sweeney said. “I know his Gmail account name but I don’t know the password.”

“My father was a creature of habit,” May said. “His Gmail password was most likely the same as his work password.”

“I didn’t know that password either,” Mrs. Sweeney said.

“What about the IT guy, Jason Nelson?” Jessup asked.

“He might know, I’ll call him,” Mrs. Sweeney said.

“Good, thank you,” Jessup said. “We have another question. We know Mr. Major was in negotiations with the CEO of Redwood Timber Industries—RTI.”

“Peter Phillips?”

May smiled, “Yes, that’s him. Do you know how to reach him?”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Mr. Phillips is a nice man and well, he was sweet on me.”

Jessup smiled and raised his eyebrows, “Oh, he is sweet on you? Is that a fact?”

“Yes, he is,” she smiled. “When he found out I was a widow, he made it a point to stop and flirt with me every time he came in.  Asked me to dinner once.”

“Oh dear, did you go?” May said.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“He wasn’t my type,” she said. “He was rich, but I don’t care about money.”

May chuckled, “Not your type, huh? What is your type?”

“Well… your man Mr. Jessup would do just fine.”

May and Mrs. Sweeney cackled with laughter. Jessup’s face turned beet red.

“Well, we could use your help, Mrs. Sweeney,” Jessup said. “We’ve been calling Peter Phillips and can’t seem to get past his secretary.”

“I have his private number,” she said. She giggled—embarrassed. “If I call, he’ll answer.”

“I need to see him as soon as possible,” May said. “Can you set it up?”

“You know I can,” she said. “I’ll call Jason Nelson about the password and get right on that.”

There was a knock on the door.  May looked through the glass and didn’t recognize the person.

“Who is that?” she asked Mrs. Sweeney.

“That’s Kurt Francis,” she replied. “He’s the CFO.”

“Ok, send him in,” Jessup said.

“I have my marching orders,” Mrs. Sweeney said. “It’s good to be back in action.  I’ll send Kurt in on my way out.”

Kurt Francis was under fifty, tall, clean shaven with thin straight hair, parted to the right side. May and Jessup introduced themselves to him, offered him a seat and coffee and spent five minutes with pleasantries. Kurt had two unusual habits. He had a nervous laugh he used constantly when he was uncomfortable. The nervous laugh also came at inappropriate times. He also used his fingers as a comb to pull back his fine brown hair off his forehead. He did it regularly to the point of distraction.

During their initial conversation they found out he’d been with the company for four years. Mike Major had met him during a meeting when he worked with a large Portland-based accounting firm that worked for Major Timber.  The two men hit it off and eventually he recruited Kurt Francis to join him.

“I was so upset to hear about your father,” Kurt said. “I respected him as a CEO and appreciated him as a human being. He spoke of you often, Ms. Major. I handled all the company contributions to charities on his behalf. He always mentioned that he hoped it would make you proud.”

“Thank you, Kurt,” she said. “I introduced you to Mr. Jessup as my consultant. He will help me get my sea legs. I wanted to let you know you are free to provide him with any information he asks for. Understood?”

“I’m happy to do that, Miss Major,” Kurt said. “All of this is the polar opposite of Mr. Marbury’s instructions, as you can imagine. I believe you, and please don’t take offense to this, but I would like to see actual documentation that confirms you are in fact the interim CEO.”

“Do you have some specific concern?” Jessup asked.

“Yes, actually,” Kurt began. “When I heard you were here and intended to set in as interim CEO, I called Mr. Marbury, who all of us assumed was taking on that role. I asked him to clarify the roles and responsibilities of himself and of you, May. I hope you understand. I have a fiscal responsibility to the company.”

“Of course. And how did he react?” Jessup asked.

“He was very irritated,” Kurt said. “He told me to not provide you with any information until he got here. He said he would clear it all up but that you would leave for Seattle soon.”

“And how did you respond?”

Kurt brushed his hair back with his fingers, “I asked him if he would bring me some documentation that states he is authorized to act as CEO himself.”

“That’s interesting,” May said. “How did he respond to that?”

“He went from agitated to flat out pissed,” Kurt said, belting out one of his nervous laughs. “He then hung up on me.”

May looked at Jessup and smiled. Jessup expected that the CFO would be one employee who might not take everything at face value. May picked up a folder off the desk and handed it to him.

“I don’t take offense at all, Kurt,” May said. “In fact, I’m glad you are doing your diligence. This folder contains two documents that should ease your concerns. The first document is a lengthy email from Mr. Marbury to me expressing his condolences and requesting to meet urgently. He outlines my father’s expressed wishes. The second document is the document Mr. Marbury asked me to sign. In that document he asks me to relinquish all my responsibilities to him. I have not signed that document. Therefore, by Marbury’s own admission, those assignments and rights still belong to me.”

Kurt pulled the papers from the folder and gave them a cursory glance. He brushed his hair back, looked up and laughed, “Yep, that’ll do. What information do you want?”

“Anything and everything you have regarding the proposed sale of the company to Redwood Timber,” May said.

“I’d be happy to provide you copies of all the financial information I put together for Redwood Timber’s CFO, to Preston Marbury and to the investors.  I then did the financial analysis for the offer from RTI.”

“Can we have a copy of that analysis, too,” May said.

“Certainly,” Kurt replied.

“Can you give us a quick opinion on the offer,” Jessup said. “Was it a good offer?”

“If you are Mike Major or an investor, it was a fair offer given the current value of the company,” Kurt said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, if you are a regular employee and not a shareholder, you’d probably not like the offer. Redwood made it clear that they would sell the assets and close the corporate offices within ninety-days. The mill itself would continue to produce but the company planned to shut down two of its other mills and move most of their employees to the Oceanside mill replacing Major Timber’s employees.”

May looked at Jessup, “You were right again, only it would be much faster than you thought.”

“Did you know for certain that my father wanted to sell?” May asked.

Kurt brushed his hair back with his fingers, “No, I think he was conflicted about it. The investors were all pressuring him to go through with it. They wanted their investments back with interest if he chose not to sell. As well off as your father was, he could not cover that kind of money in a short period. The investors stuck him between a rock and a hard place. I felt bad for him.”

“So, you think he didn’t want to sell because… why?” May asked.

“To protect the employees,” Kurt answered, “and the community. But it was looking increasingly like he didn’t have a choice.”

“A man like Mike Major just didn’t put off things like that to avoid the inevitable,” Jessup said. “He must have had some plan.”

“I know he was working on… something,” Kurt said, “But I don’t know what. He told me to stand by.”

“Did anyone else know what he was working on?” Jessup asked.

“I doubt it,” Kurt said. “Until Mike Major had a vision of something that worked, few people every heard about any of his plans.”

“Thank you for coming in, Kurt,” May said.

Kurt stood to leave, “They have thrown you into the middle of a huge mess, Miss Major. I’m sorry. Let me know what I can do to help.”

“I will, thank you.”

Kurt shook hands with may and Jessup and left.

The intercom beeped. It was Mrs. Sweeney.

“Sorry to bother you, Miss Major but Ray Tostum is on my line. It seemed he detained Preston Marbury from getting past the lobby. Marbury is spittin’ mad.”

Jessup looked at his watch, “That was sooner than I expected.”