Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series (5 page)

Chapter 11

“Whoa, what’s wrong, honey?” John said into his phone.

Maggie
tried again, but choked on her words. “I’m okay, but will you come back?”

John
quickly checked his rearview mirror and swung a U-turn in his Suburban. “On my
way. I’ll be there in under five minutes. Just hang on.”

Maggie
sagged against the door she had just closed. Eve circled her beloved mistress,
acutely aware that something was wrong. Maggie squatted and let Eve shower her
with wet doggie kisses.

By
the time John pulled into the driveway, she was no longer crying. She flung the
door open as soon as she heard his car approach. Eve didn’t race out to offer
her greeting but remained at Maggie’s side.

John
took the steps two at a time and wrapped Maggie in his arms. “What in the world
happened? Is something wrong with the kids?”

Maggie
drew back and shook her head. “No, nothing like that.” She looked at him long
and hard. “It’s time I gave you all the sordid details about Paul.”

She
led him to the kitchen and poured them both a cup of coffee. They sat next to
each other at the French farmhouse table, and John took her hands in his.

“Whatever
it is, we’re in this together. You know that. You can tell me anything.”

Maggie
inhaled and rubbed his hands with her own. “I think I once told you that I
thought Paul had been cheating on me?”

John
nodded.

“I
know he was cheating on me because I hired a private investigator to find out
where he’d been spending all of the money he embezzled from Windsor College.”

John’s
head snapped up.

“He’d
been embezzling for years—over two million dollars.” She paused to let
the news sink in.

“I
never knew anything about it,” she added hastily. “He didn’t spend any of the
money on me or the kids; he never brought any of it home.”

“Maggie—I
assumed that. I know you’d never be part of anything like that.” He scooted his
chair closer and put his arms around her.

Maggie
released the breath she had been holding. “I quietly settled the college’s
claim against his estate using the proceeds of his life insurance policy. The
board of regents wasn’t keen to have the news of his embezzlement exposed since
they’d be tarred and feathered over their lax oversight, and I didn’t want the
kids to suffer the humiliation of having their father’s name dragged through
the mud.”

“Makes
sense,” John interjected. “I’d have done the same.”

“But
I was curious about where he spent all the money. By that time, I knew he’d
inherited Rosemont—I found ten years of accounting records, money he’d
invested repairing and maintaining it. He spent a fair amount here, but nowhere
near two million dollars. So I hired a private investigator.”

Maggie
hesitated and drew a ragged breath.

“And?”
John prodded.

“Paul
supported a second family. A much younger woman with two school-aged
children—not Paul’s, thankfully—in a very upscale home in
Scottsdale, Arizona.” Maggie turned away. “I’m not proud of this, but one
September afternoon after Paul died, I flew to Scottsdale to find this woman.”

Maggie
choked back a sob and John drew her close. “I acted like every cliché in the
book. I even got sick in the rental car and, after I saw her, I drove straight
home—my return plane ticket be damned.”

John
brushed a kiss along the top of her head.

“I
haven’t seen or heard of her since—until this evening. She left here
right before I called you.”

John
held her at arm’s length. “What? How is that possible?”

“She
lives in Westbury now.” Maggie watched as surprise bled into anger on John’s
face. “She works for Frank Haynes.”

Chapter 12

Loretta took the highway exit away from Westbury—away
from her apartment—after her encounter with Maggie Martin. She needed
time to think without her kids underfoot. Nothing had gone as planned. She
never expected, in a million years, that Maggie knew about her and Paul.

Traffic
was sparse. She pressed her foot down hard, trying to get as much distance
between herself and that humiliating scene as possible. Had that bastard Paul
finally told his wife, or did she have her creep of a boss, Frank Haynes, to
thank for this?

Thirty
miles south of Westbury, she pulled off the highway at a McDonald’s to use the
restroom. Loretta stood at the sink and let the frigid water race over her
hands as she surveyed herself in the mirror. The best things in her life were
back in Westbury waiting for her. She wouldn’t let Paul Martin or Frank Haynes
screw that up for her.
To hell with both of them.
She dried her stinging
hands on the coarse paper towel and shoved it into the trash. She would go back
to her children and get a new job—away from those creeps Frank Haynes and
Chuck Delgado. She’d make a good life for herself and her kids.

An
hour later, Loretta collected her children from her neighbor and ushered them
through her front door. “Who wants ice cream?” she asked, knowing it was a
favorite she never allowed at bedtime. Three-year-old Nicole slumped against
Loretta’s leg.

“What’s
the matter, sweetheart?” Loretta asked, smoothing the damp hair back from
Nicole’s face. She bent down and placed her cheek against Nicole’s warm
forehead. Nicole sniffed and Loretta fished a tissue out of her pocket and
wiped Nicole’s nose. “I think someone’s catching a cold. You can have your ice
cream in bed. In fact, why don’t we all have ice cream in bed?”

***

Loretta trudged up the steps to Haynes Enterprises the
next morning. She had intended to start looking online for a new job the prior
evening, but Nicole was sick and needed her attention until the wee hours.
Loretta was exhausted but determined to get out of Haynes Enterprises at the
first opportunity.

She
locked the door behind her and hung up her coat. Mr. Haynes would be out of the
office doing site visits all week. The work of Haynes Enterprises could wait;
she would spend the day looking for a new job.

By
three forty-five that afternoon, Loretta was cross-eyed from staring at her computer
screen and thoroughly discouraged. Wages weren’t as high in Westbury as they
were in Scottsdale; she’d have to take a significant pay cut if she were to
take any of the available openings. Frank Haynes was overpaying her. And she
couldn’t afford to make less. It appeared she was stuck right where she was.

Loretta
pushed her chair back from her desk and stretched. She was headed to the
coffeemaker when the call came in from the babysitter: Nicole was miserable and
wanted her mother. Could she please pick her daughter up early? Loretta logged
off of her computer and locked up the office. It looked like she’d spend
another night tending to a sick child. Would she ever get a break?

Chapter 13

Frank Haynes pulled his Mercedes sedan into his usual
parking spot by the employee entrance of Forever Friends. As founder and principal
benefactor of Westbury’s only no-kill animal shelter, he kept close tabs on the
shelter’s finances. He was there to review the weekly payroll.

He
nodded to the talkative woman who sat at the reception desk and kept moving at
a fast clip. Haynes was in no mood to engage in meaningless small talk. He
settled himself behind the desk in the tiny administrative office and turned to
the payroll records the bookkeeper left for him in a folder in the top drawer. He
was surprised to see David Wheeler’s name still in the column labeled Intern:
Court-ordered Community Service with a notation that he’d spent sixteen hours
at the shelter during the past week. The kid had gotten in trouble at school by
stealing equipment from the language lab. He’d agreed to let David perform his
community service at Forever Friends as a way to make amends in some small way
for his own part in the whole debacle that led to William Wheeler’s demise. It
was at least a step in the right direction, and David had exceeded all
expectations at Forever Friends.

Haynes
initialed the bottom of each page of the report and returned it to its folder.

“Is
David Wheeler still working here?” he asked the receptionist on his way out.

“Yes,”
she replied, pleased that Mr. Haynes was actually speaking to her. “In fact,
he’s here now, working in the kennels,” she said, tilting her head to the
doorway behind her.

Haynes
hesitated, then strode around her desk, through the door, and into the hallway
flanked by kennels on either side. David Wheeler was at the far end, tools in
hand, repairing a loose hinge on one of the cage doors.

“Nice
to see you, David,” Frank Haynes said, extending his hand.

“Hi,”
David replied, awkwardly taking the outstretched hand.

“You’ve
finished your community service, you know. You don’t have to come here
anymore.”

David
shrugged. Haynes regarded the boy thoughtfully.

“You’ve
done a wonderful job for us. Taken the initiative to clean things up and make
repairs. And you’re great with the animals. Everyone on staff says so.”

David
flushed and shifted the screwdriver he was holding from hand to hand.
“Everybody is really nice to me here. And I love the animals.”

“We
can’t continue to let you come here as a volunteer,” Haynes stated firmly.
David inhaled sharply. “We’ll need to put you on the payroll,” Haynes continued
and was gratified to see David smile. “Effective immediately. I’ll take care of
it. Would you like that?”

The
boy nodded.

“So,
now that that’s settled, tell me about the dog you adopted. The mutt with only
one eye? How’s he getting along?”

David
brightened. Dodger was fine—the best dog ever—smart as all get
out—his mother even liked him—and he’d trained him to run an
agility course like nobody’s business. Haynes abandoned whatever errand was
next on his agenda and relaxed against the wall, encouraging David to fill in
all the details. When David paused, Haynes interjected, “I’d like to see Dodger
on an agility course. It looks like a lot of fun. Can I come watch sometime?”

“Gosh,
yes,” David replied, unable to conceal his surprise. “That would be really
cool. No one’s come to watch us—not even my mom. We use the course at the
dog park. Do you know it?” Haynes nodded. “People say they’ve never seen
anything like him,” David concluded proudly.

“Then
I really have to see Dodger in action. When will you be there again?”

“If
it doesn’t rain or snow, we’ll be there tomorrow after school.”

Haynes
consulted the calendar on his phone and nodded. “I’ll see you then.”

Chapter 14

Maggie checked the clock on her dashboard as she pulled
into her parking spot at Town Hall and saw that she was late again. She hadn’t
been on time for anything since the kittens moved into Rosemont. She was
meeting with Police Chief Andy Thomas and Special Counsel Alex
Scanlon—two of the most punctual people on the planet. Maggie sighed and
hurried across the icy parking lot to the back entrance.

She
heard their raised voices when she stepped off the elevator. Maggie rushed to
the reception area outside of the office bearing the plaque that read “Hon.
Mayor Margaret Martin.” She still got chills every time she saw it. Being
elected mayor of Westbury still seemed like a dream. And on days like today, a
nightmare.

“Gentlemen,”
she said. “Let’s not carry on like this. I can hear you all the way down the
hall.”

Alex
opened his mouth to protest, and she shot him a reproachful look. She unlocked
her office and indicated the chairs opposite her desk. “I’m sorry I was delayed
this morning,” she said. “I need a cup of coffee before we begin. Can I get
either of you anything?” Both men declined. “I’ll be right back. Whatever you
need to discuss can wait a few minutes.”

Maggie
loitered in the break room while a new pot of coffee finished brewing. The
police chief and Alex normally saw eye to eye on things. She wondered what
their disagreement was about. She filled her cup and returned to her office.

“So,
good morning, again.” The two men sat rigidly in their chairs, studiously
avoiding eye contact with one another. “It’s obvious we have a problem. Chief
Thomas, I’d like to hear from you, first.”

“Alex
is interfering with our investigation, ma’am,” he replied.

“From
where I sit, you don’t have an investigation,” Alex said. “There’s nothing to
interfere with.”

Maggie
interceded. “Which investigation are you talking about?”

“The
simultaneous fires at my law office and my home,” Alex said. “They occurred
more than a year ago, and we’re still no closer to an arrest. The insurance
company investigator concluded they were both arson, but Chief Thomas’
department hasn’t even gotten that far.”

Chief
Thomas spread his hands and shrugged. “We don’t have the manpower to
investigate everything right now. The fraud and embezzlement from the town and
the pension fund is our top priority.”

Alex
snorted. “And how are those investigations coming along? I don’t see you making
any progress there, either.”

“If
you’d get me those documents from the offshore banks, I’d have something to
work with. Haven’t they complied with your subpoenas? Why is it taking so
long?” the chief retorted.

Maggie
leaned across her desk. “That’s enough. We don’t need to throw rocks at each
other. There are enough people on the outside doing that as it is.” She sat
back in her chair and addressed the chief of police.

“I
agree with Alex—we need to catch the people who set those fires. If the
insurance company has determined it’s arson, what’s the hold up?”

“Their
evidence isn’t enough to make an arrest. We need proof that will stand up in a
criminal court. Special Counsel Scanlon, here, understands that better than
anyone.”

Alex
glanced away.

“We
believe the fires were set by professionals. Probably mob connected. We’ve
uncovered nothing to tie this to anybody.”

“That’s
the part that frustrates me the most,” Alex interjected.

“I
understand, Alex. I really do. It frustrates me, too. And I think your car
crash after the candidate’s debate was no accident, either. Same deal—a
clean crime scene, with no evidence to go on,” the chief concluded.

“What
are you suggesting we do, Alex?” Maggie said, turning to him.

“I’d
like to have the team of detectives report directly to me. Maybe with constant
supervision, they’ll be more motivated.”

“You
think I’m not doing my job?” the chief began before Maggie cut him off.

“That’s
ridiculous, Alex, and you know it. You can’t investigate crimes where you’re
the victim.”

“I’ve
done some research on that point of law, actually …” he began.

“Case
closed, Alex. My answer is no. Chief Thomas has my complete confidence. Our
resources are stretched to the max, and he’s doing an admirable job under the
circumstances.”

“Thank
you, ma’am,” Chief Thomas replied and sank back into his chair.

“And
he’s right, Alex. He needs those records from the offshore banks. Quit digging
around in matters that don’t concern you and work on the things you can do
something about.”

Alex’s
eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry I wasted all of our time,” he spat and stalked out of
the room.

“That
didn’t go as planned, did it, Chief? Instead of calming him down, I’ve thrown
gasoline on the fire.”

“He’s
been awfully touchy lately,” Chief Thomas replied.

“And
who can blame him? He and his partner have been the victims of
serious—almost fatal—crimes, and no one is even under suspicion?
I’d be at your throat, too.”

The
chief winced at the rebuke.

“Don’t
use the fraud investigation as an excuse, either. If you’re so undermanned, we
can bring in the feds.”

“We’ve
been over that before. If we call in the feds we’ll lose control over the case.
We have ideas about who’s responsible. We just don’t have solid evidence yet.”

Maggie
raised her brows. “When were you going to tell me?”

Chief
Thomas looked away.

“Don’t
you think you can trust me? I wasn’t living here when the fraud and
embezzlement took place. And I can keep a secret. Forensic accountants are
ethically bound to keep their clients’ confidences.” She caught his eye and
held his gaze.

He
slowly nodded. “Okay. We’ve uncovered evidence linking Chuck Delgado to two men
with arson priors who we know were in the area the morning of the fires.”

“Delgado’s
involvement isn’t terribly surprising. He’s always struck me as being a sleazy
character. So what’s the next step?”

“Delgado
has been rumored to be affiliated with one of the Chicago mobs for years. He’s
good at keeping his hands clean, and I think his brother, Ron—the smarter
of the two of them—helps with that. I’m not sure if Ron is on the inside
or not.” He rose and began pacing in front of her desk. “I don’t want to nail
two cheap thugs from Chicago. They’re expendable to the organization. Someone
else will take their place before the jail cell shuts behind them. I want to
nail Chuck Delgado. He’s on the town council, for heaven’s sake. We need to
clean the corruption out of Westbury’s government.”

“I
agree with you wholeheartedly,” Maggie replied.

“I
need more time to make my case. I’m betting it’s all tied together. The people
behind the fires and Alex’s accident are behind the fraud and embezzlement.”

“What’s
your next step?”

“I’m
tapping our network of informants. It’s slow, tedious work with unreliable
results. We need to carefully vet all of the tips we receive. Most of them turn
out to be false. But they’re all we’ve got at the moment. They’ll eventually
produce the results we want.”

Maggie
nodded slowly. She reached for the handle of her bottom desk drawer, where she
kept Frank Haynes’ missing cell phone. Should she turn it over to the chief?
Was that fair to Frank? She paused. “What about other councilmembers? Anything
on any of them? Frank Haynes is pretty chummy with Delgado. They usually vote
the same way on issues.”

Chief
Thomas shook his head. “Nothing on anyone else. But we’re keeping our eyes
peeled.”

Maggie
released the handle and rose from her chair. “How much longer do you think
you’ll need?” She crossed the room to where he was standing and walked him to
the door.

“Impossible
to predict. This case could break wide open at any time.”

“Let’s
hope that it does,” Maggie said, fixing him with a stern look as he exited her
office.

Maggie
shut the door behind him and slumped into her chair. She had hoped to bridge
the growing gap between Alex and the chief, but the meeting had only made
matters worse. She glanced at her bottom desk drawer. Since Frank Haynes wasn’t
a suspect, she really should give his cell phone back to him. If she were
honest with herself, she hadn’t done so already because she wanted to confirm
that Don Upton and Frank had conspired to convince her to resign her position
as mayor. They had almost succeeded, and the phone might offer proof of their
complicity. Still, the prospect of snooping through his phone was distasteful
to her. How would she feel if the shoe were on the other foot? She would be
livid—would feel violated—if a colleague went through her phone.

Maggie
pulled it out of her drawer and pressed the on button. The battery life was at
twenty percent. She had to be certain. She’d snoop through his phone until the
battery gave out.

Maggie
opened the contact list and began scrolling; there was a listing for Lyndon
Upton. He and Frank had worked together on the town’s budget, so that wasn’t
surprising. She checked his text messages. There was nothing other than the
fateful New Year’s Eve message from Upton that she and John had already seen.
She finally looked at his list of recent calls. There were a dozen calls between
the two men during December. They had been plotting against her, she was
certain of it. But conspiring to remove a political opponent from office was
the nature of politics. More importantly, it wasn’t evidence of criminal
activity.

She
turned off the phone and replaced it in her drawer. She’d done what she’d
wanted to do and uncovered nothing that she didn’t already know. She needed to
get the phone back to him anonymously, but in such a way that he would wonder
if she knew about his duplicity. Frank Haynes should sweat over this. A smile
curled around her lips; she had the perfect plan.