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Michael Doyle,” she whispered, clutching my arm harder, as if that would plug her tear ducts. “Your mother raised a strong person. You must have had nightmares since you found Tiffany.” She wiped moisture from her face.
    “Yes, I have.”
    “I’ve seen my share of horror, and I can say the strong will survive. Life can be vicious at times, but it never stops. We will all eventually thrive again.” Jeanne held her tissue to her face.
    Astonished to see Jeanne on the verge of losing it, I tried to keep her calm.
    “You’re right, Jeanne. Thank you for your supportive words.” A lump formed in my throat.
    She put her game face back on, and we discussed business. Then, she walked me to the front.
      I opened the front door. “Without a doubt, Jeanne, we can sit down to discuss any new requirements for this next tax season. We’ll make sure your needs are taken care of at J&W.” It hit me—the next time we met, J&W would no longer be on my business card.
    I stepped onto the sidewalk, and a man strode toward the Greenberg & Associates front door. Followed by two other people, including one uniformed police officer, he turned his head toward me like a dog hearing a high-pitched noise.
    “Michael Doyle?” he asked.
    Before I could respond, he flashed his badge in my face. “I’m Carl Pearson, lead investigator for the murder of Tiffany Chambers.”
    “Good morning.”
    “My team and I need to speak with everyone who came in contact with Ms. Chambers just prior to her death, which is why we’re here at her employer’s office,” he said. “I’d like to visit with you too. This afternoon at headquarters. I’m sure you can find the time.”
     
     
     
     

Chapter Thirteen
     
    Victoria exhaled loudly before turning the ignition key. Those bastards just don’t have any clue how to run a charity, she thought to herself. She pulled away from the curb in her new eighty-thousand dollar, Indian-made Jaguar XFR.
    Her phone vibrated on the leather passenger seat, but after a quick glance, she kept her eyes on the road, ensuring she didn’t lose control of the five hundred horsepower under her foot. Once she made her way past the downtown traffic, she pressed the button to return the call.
    “Yes, this is Victoria.” She was irritated from her spirited Help for the Homeless board meeting and, thinking the person on the call might be adding more anxiety, her voice was impatient.
    “Victoria, Chuck Hagard here,” he said in his slight southern drawl. “My team has gathered more information on the situation down there. As you know, I’ve had a man on the ground overseeing our behind-the-scenes operations. Apparently, this little girl had a number of coals in the fire, so to speak.”
    “Go on, Mr. Hagard .”
    “It appears she took things a little far with one of our key points of interest, and it sparked an unforeseeable response.”
    Victoria wasn’t keen on anyone not following an assignment to perfection, even if it was someone who was now deceased.
    “Mr. Hagard , your little girl had a job to do.”
    “You’re right, and she did it well on many fronts. In situations like these, emotions can get out of hand. We wanted to stoke the fire on the home front with this key person of interest. That was the objective. My man thought she had a good feel for the situation. But these things are delicate, and sometimes it doesn’t take much to push people over the edge.”
    Victoria processed this information as she approached road construction, forcing her to detour off her normal route.
    “How does this incident impact the plan?”
    “Without a doubt, it puts attention on a situation we really didn’t want,” Chuck said. “Which is why I pay my best people at the top of their compensation range.”
    “Enough of the corporate HR jargon.”
    “It’s not BS. I have confidence in my operational chief. He has a number of things already in motion. This only adds a few more tasks to his list. I’ll provide