Drawing Close: The Fourth Novel in the Rosemont Series

by Barbara Hinske

  “Will you be all right from here?” he asked.

  Loretta tried to read his expression, but his face was obscured by shadows. She nodded slowly. “Yes. I’ll be fine.”

  “Good. And thank you for all of your help with this, Loretta. You’ve been invaluable.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He took a step back. “Don’t worry about being at Haynes Enterprises bright and early tomorrow. You may need to get some extra sleep,” he said, and she was certain she heard kindness in his voice. He turned to go.

  “Frank,” she said, grabbing his elbow and leaning toward him, her breath warm and fragrant against his face. She paused, then placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. For everything.” She stepped back into her dark apartment and closed the door.

  ***

  Frank Haynes pulled out of the parking lot of Loretta Nash’s apartment and, instead of proceeding directly home at this late hour, turned toward Rosemont and his familiar perch in the berm of the road that ran below the grand home’s back lawn. The house was in complete darkness, its residents—Maggie Martin and John Allen—undoubtedly fast asleep. Residents for now, he thought.

  He smiled and patted the breast pocket of his jacket, where he’d secured Loretta’s notes about Roger Spenser. He knew what his next move would be. He’d find Spenser and get him to confess to removing the evidence that established Haynes’ ownership of a half-interest in Rosemont, probably for a hefty sum that he received from Paul Martin. Enough to allow him to retire at an early age and for him and his wife to live out the remainder of their years indulging their passion for—what did Loretta say they called it—birding? He’d have to think through how he was going to present this to Spenser. If he was really a dying man, he would be immune to threats. He’d appeal to the man’s better nature; maybe he’d be concerned about his immortal soul.

  Haynes stared at the dark edifice of Rosemont, washed in moonlight. He brought his hand to his cheek and touched the spot where the softness of Loretta’s kiss lingered. Happiness—an unfamiliar feeling for Frank Haynes—surged through him. Whether the feeling arose at the prospect of owning Rosemont or over the memory of her kiss, he couldn’t say.

  Chapter 7

  “Alex? What’s up?” Maggie said, pressing her phone tightly to her ear to compensate for the poor connection. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Yes, fine. Sorry if I alarmed you.”

  “Two voice mails and four text messages in six hours will do that.”

  “I wanted to catch you before you left to come home. You leave tomorrow, don’t you?”

  “We catch the train to London first thing, and we’ll be on a red-eye flight home.”

  “How would you like to extend your honeymoon?”

  Maggie snorted. “Nothing I’d like more. Cornwall has been marvelous, and my new husband has been spoiling me rotten,” she said, smiling at John. She angled the phone away from her mouth and said, “It’s Alex. He wants to know if we’d like to stay here longer.” John gave two thumbs up.

  “I didn’t say stay longer in Cornwall,” Alex said. “I said extend your honeymoon. At least, that’s what we’d have the outside world think.”

  “You’ve got my attention,” Maggie replied. “What would we be doing instead?”

  “Going through four boxes of the documents that we obtained from the banks in response to our subpoenas. We’ve segregated the most critical documents, and you need to go through them with a fine-toothed comb, using your expertise as a forensic accountant.”

  “I see. I’m not so sure that’s necessary, Alex. I can return to work on Monday as planned and still get through the documents in the next several months.”

  “That’s why we came up with this plan. We don’t have several months to sit on our hands and wait, Maggie. And we don’t have the money to hire anyone else.”

  Alex cleared his throat and Maggie knew he was just getting started. She leaned back into the chair in their hotel room and eased her aching feet out of her shoes.

  “Right now, no one knows what we’ve got in our hands. We want to finish our investigation and take action as soon as we can. We also don’t want anyone to get wind of the fact that we’re having a forensic accountant review the documents, which won’t be a secret once you’re spotted coming and going from the document room.”

  Maggie laughed. “I’m not sure how you avoid that unless you smuggle me into a secret location where you’ve secured the documents.”

  “That’s exactly what we have in mind,” Alex replied and was certain he heard a sharp intake of breathe from the other end of the phone. “We’ve got use of the basement storage room in my cousin’s dental practice in Ferndale. He has a duplex and lives on one side and runs his office out of the other. He takes the last two weeks of June off every year and shuts down his entire practice. No one will be there. You and John can sleep in his guest room, and you can go through the documents in the basement without interruption. He’s just outside town, so no one will see you. And it won’t cost the taxpayers a dime. It’s the perfect scenario.”

  Maggie sighed heavily. Having an uninterrupted block of time to cull through the documents would be ideal. Once she set foot in Town Hall, she was sure she’d be swamped with her duties as mayor of Westbury. She leaned forward, sitting on the edge of her chair. “I don’t think it’s a very practical suggestion. John has to get back to his veterinary practice. What would we say?”

  “We’ve thought of that. If John is okay with it, say that you’ve contacted John’s elderly second-cousins in London. They’ve invited you to stay with them for a week so they can show you the sights, and you’d both like to oblige. Everyone will think you’re gadding about London when you’ll really be slaving away in a basement in Ferndale.”

  “Seems pretty iffy. What if someone sees us arrive at the airport?”

  “Change your flight and come into Chicago. Forest Smith can pick you up and drive you to my cousin’s house. When you’re done, Forest can take you to the original airport and you can take the same shuttle service home—just a week later.”

  “You’ve thought this through very carefully, haven’t you?”

  “I have. It’s important, Maggie, and it’s our best shot.” She heard the pleading in his voice.

  “Let me discuss this with John, and I’ll call you back within the hour.”

  Chapter 8

  Alex Scanlon and Forest Smith approached the duplex on the outskirts of Ferndale from different directions that Saturday night and arrived within five minutes of each other. They pulled around the building and into the deserted parking lot of the dental practice.

  Both men got quietly out of their cars and approached the house. The back door opened before they could knock. John Allen stepped to one side and motioned them in. “You weren’t followed?”

  “I’m sure I wasn’t,” Alex said.

  “I wasn’t either, Dr. Allen,” Forest said.

  John nodded. “Good. And please, it’s John. Come on through. Maggie’s still downstairs, finishing her report.”

  John turned, leading them through the kitchen and down a hallway to the basement door.

  “How was your honeymoon?” Alex asked.

  “The first part was glorious. Cornwall is almost as charming and beautiful as my new wife. This last week, however, has been rather odd. I’ve watched so many sports on TV that I’m sick of them.”

  Alex stopped and caught John’s arm. “I’m sorry to intrude like this. I—we,” he said, motioning to Forest, “thought this was our best option. We’re at our wits’ end here, John. We’ve got to find some way to get these guys who have stolen the pension funds and wrecked the retirements of so many people. I know it must have been hard for you to get someone to cover your veterinary practice for another week. We’re grateful to you.”

  John shrugged dismissively. “The young vet that’s been filling in for me hasn’t found a permanent position yet, so he was glad for the extra work. To
tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking of hiring someone to help me. I can keep up if I work sixty hours a week, but I don’t want to do that now that I’ve got someone to go home to. If I like how he’s handled things while we’ve been gone, I may offer him a job. So this all worked out fine for me, too.”

  “I thought I heard voices,” Maggie said as she came up the steps. The three men turned in her direction. “I’ve just finished. Come on down.”

  Maggie spent the next three and a half hours taking Special Counsel Alex Scanlon and his co-counsel, Forest Smith, through each document that established the paper trail that led to perpetrators William Wheeler and Charles Delgado. Wheeler had been identified early in the process, stripped of his position as mayor of Westbury, and thrown into jail. While in jail, Wheeler had conveniently—too conveniently—committed suicide, leaving his wife, Jackie, and teenaged son, David, destitute and heartbroken.

  The fraud and embezzlement from the town’s general fund and the town workers’ pension fund was a complex criminal enterprise. It was unlikely to have been the effort of only one person. But they had been unable to unearth evidence against anyone else. Until now.

  Maggie pointed to a handful of papers. “Based upon my examination, these are the only ones that haven’t been altered. They point to Wheeler and Chuck Delgado. Nobody else.”

  Alex riffled through the stack of papers. “It’s weak, Maggie. Very weak.” He cradled his head in his hands. “We know Wheeler had to have help, and we know Delgado isn’t smart enough to have come up with this scheme on his own. It would be unethical to use any of the evidence that we suspect has been altered—Delgado’s defense team would get it thrown out in a heartbeat, anyway. Probably strip me of my license to practice law along with it.”

  Maggie turned to Forest Smith. “I agree with Alex, ma’am. There’s not enough here to go forward.”

  “Finding out who altered these documents would be nigh unto impossible,” she said, resting her hand on another stack. “I’ve seen this before in fraud cases I’ve worked on. Once you subpoena records from outside the borders of the United States, like these records from offshore banks in the Caribbean, your chances of success diminish precipitously.” She leaned toward them. “What if we went forward anyway? What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “The case gets thrown out, and we’re the laughing stock of the community,” Alex answered.

  “Then we’re right back where we are now. No difference. We’re already considered to be completely incompetent by most of the constituents, thanks to the fine editorial work of the Westbury Gazette,” Maggie said bitterly. “What could we accomplish if we arrest Chuck Delgado?”

  “He’ll be off the streets for a while,” Forest said.

  “For a matter of hours,” Alex cut in. “He’ll make whatever bail is set for him.”

  “Would he offer to talk in exchange for a lighter sentence?” Maggie asked.

  “Not likely,” Alex scoffed. “Our evidence won’t get us that far.”

  “At the very least, it will make him furious. Delgado is prone to doing stupid things even at the best of times. If we make him mad enough, he might slip up and give us something to go on,” Maggie suggested.

  Alex cocked his head to one side, thinking, and caught Forest’s eye. Forest nodded. “You might have something, there, Maggie,” Alex said. “But we could be unleashing some new evil that we can’t control. Remember the arson fires in my home and office and the suspicious car accident that almost killed Marc and me?”

  “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten. If we decide to arrest Delgado, I’ll have Chief Thomas put round-the-clock security details on both of you,” Maggie replied.

  “You’ll need one, too, Maggie,” Alex said. “Don’t look at me like that—you’re in as much danger as we are.”

  Maggie shrugged. “If you really think so.”

  Both men nodded their agreement.

  It was close to one in the morning when Maggie led Alex and Forest back upstairs.

  “So we’re agreed,” Alex said as they headed to the back door. “Some of the significant documents have been altered. Someone is trying to cover something up. We’ve got just enough evidence in the unaltered documents that Maggie’s set aside to arrest Delgado, without using any of the tainted documents. We’ll arrest him and hope we get him stirred up enough to do something stupid. Who knows—maybe he’ll even lead us to his cronies.”

  “He mentioned Frank Haynes when I gave him the copies of the documents that fingered him. That was when he thought I was in his hip pocket,” Forest said.

  “If Haynes got himself involved in this mess, he’s not the kingpin we’re after. He’s a sharp businessman, always looking for an easy way to make a buck, but I don’t think he’s got mob connections,” Alex said. “Chuck Delgado, on the other hand, has been in bed with the mob since he was old enough to walk. His brother, Ron, maintains a legitimate facade, but I’d bet my paycheck that he’s dirty, too. Haynes isn’t our top target. We’re after the mob bosses at the heart of this. That’s where I want Delgado to lead us.”

  Maggie nodded. “I agree. Let’s take our best shot and put pressure on Delgado.”

  Alex looked from Maggie to Forest and nodded. “We’ll have Delgado arrested first thing Monday morning.” He smiled a mirthless smile. “By the time you get to Town Hall, he should be in custody.”

  Alex turned to Forest. “Delgado is going to assume that you reneged on your promise to keep these documents hidden from me. The first thing he’ll do is lash out at you.”

  “I’m not worried …” Forest began.

  Alex held up a hand to silence him. “I am. I’m very worried. Keep your eyes open and don’t take any lonely drives in the country.”

  Smith remained silent. “We’re all in danger here,” Maggie said quietly. “The fact that they haven’t succeeded in killing anyone, yet, doesn’t mean that they won’t the next time they try.” She put her hand on the doorknob. “We’ll be back in Westbury by midafternoon tomorrow.” She nodded at Smith. “Forest is dropping us at the airport at noon, and we’ll be on the next shuttle to Westbury. I’ll text you when we get home. I’ll be in my office by eight on Monday morning. Time is on their side, not ours. They think this will be a battle of attrition—that we’ll be gridlocked by mountains of documents. We’re going to show them differently.”

  Alex smiled. “Thanks, coach!”

  “Be careful getting home tonight and from here on out.” She opened the door and watched until their taillights disappeared around the side of the house and out of sight.

  Chapter 9

  The receptionist buzzed Susan Martin’s private line for the second time in under a minute. The call must be important. The woman knew she didn’t want to be interrupted. Susan extended an arm awkwardly toward her phone, all the while keeping her eyes trained on her computer screen, and found the speaker button.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Susan,” the woman rushed to say, “but there’s a man here that insists he needs to see you.”

  Susan opened her calendar on her computer screen. “I don’t have anyone scheduled,” she said.

  “That’s what I told him.” The receptionist sounded pleased with herself. “Told him he’d have to make an appointment and come back. But he says you know him, and you’ll want to see him.”

  “Who is it?” Susan tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. If her visitor was a salesman, she’d send him packing in a heartbeat.

  “Says his name is Aaron Scanlon. Dr. Aaron Scanlon.”

  Susan was on her feet and headed to the law firm’s lobby before the woman finished speaking.

  ***

  “What in the world?” Susan gasped as she approached Aaron and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He reached out to pull her to him, but she took his hand to divert him. The receptionist would have enough fodder for office gossip with just that kiss on the cheek. “Come on back to my office,” she said quickly, leading him away from t
he receptionist’s prying eyes.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked, shutting the door to her office behind them.

  “Everything’s fine, except that I’m missing you.” Aaron swept her into his arms. “I got off work unexpectedly and came straight here. Can I buy you lunch?”

  “I ate at my desk. It’s almost three.”

  “A cup of coffee, then? Are you in the middle of some big motion?” he pointed to her computer screen.

  “I am, actually. But I could use a short break. If you haven’t eaten, I’ll go with you to keep you company.” She leaned into his embrace. “I’m surprised you came here instead of racing home to your books.”

  Aaron winced. “I know I’ve been going overboard studying. I’m a compulsive over-preparer. But today is just too beautiful to spend inside—either studying or drafting motions.” He rocked back on his heels. “Why don’t we jump in my car and drive up the coast? Find someplace along the beach for an early dinner and take a stroll on the sand at dusk. Can you afford to leave that for tomorrow? You’re always advising me to lighten up, so I’m challenging you to do the same.”

  Susan smiled up at him. “All right, Ferris Bueller. You’re on. Let me log off and grab my purse.”

  ***

  The afternoon was Chamber of Commerce perfect. They took the Pacific Coast Highway and headed north, meandering through the beachy communities, packed with summer visitors. They were inching through Carlsbad when Susan sighted a parking spot not more than twenty yards ahead.

  “Can we?” she asked as Aaron deftly maneuvered his car into the tight spot. “I love the shops here. I haven’t wandered through them in ages.”

  “Then that’s what m’lady should do,” he replied.

  “There’s the best spot for ice cream here, too. If it’s still there.”

  They found the ice cream parlor and most of her old favorite shops. She was in her element, weaving through colorful displays, comparing items, weighing the wisdom of her purchases. By the time they headed back to Aaron’s car to feed the parking meter, he was loaded down with shopping bags, which he insisted on carrying for her.