Weaving the Strands
Page 1
Weaving the Strands
Barbara Hinske
Copyright © 2014 Barbara Hinske
All rights reserved.
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission of the author, with the exception of brief quotations within book reviews or articles. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or places or events is coincidental.
Also by Barbara Hinske:
Coming to Rosemont, the first book in the Rosemont series
Uncovering Secrets, the third book in the Rosemont series
The Night Train
Available at Amazon and for Kindle.
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bhinske@gmail.com
ISBN-13: 978-1499182125
ISBN-10: 1499182120
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015907676
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Charleston, South Carolina
Dedication
To every reader of Coming to Rosemont who reviewed my book or reached out to me to offer support and encouragement. Your enthusiasm for Rosemont poured jet fuel on my dreams, and I am profoundly grateful.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Thank You
Acknowledgements
Book Club Questions
About the Author
Excerpt from Uncovering Secrets
Other Books in the Rosemont Series
Connect with the Author Online
Chapter 1
The Honorable Margaret Martin peered uneasily out the cruiser window at the sea of angry faces as Chief Andy Thomas wove his way to the rear entrance of Haynes Gymnasium. A uniformed officer sprang to open her door. He shielded her from the jeering crowd and quickly escorted her inside.
“I would never have expected such an uprising in Westbury,” she said, turning to the officer.
“People hate pay cuts,” he replied curtly as he opened the door and stepped back outside.
Maggie sighed and made her way to the enclosure at the back of the gymnasium where she and the town council were gathering before the council meeting, scheduled to start in forty-five minutes.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said as she joined them. “I was on my way when Chief Thomas intercepted me. He wanted to bring me in himself.”
“That was my call,” Special Counsel Alex Scanlon said. “I was afraid there might be trouble tonight. As mayor of Westbury, you’re the focal point of all this animosity.”
“I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never seen anything like this,” Councilman Frank Haynes interjected. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to move the council meeting to the largest venue in town.”
“You may be right, Frank, but we’re here now,” Maggie replied. “And the people need to know what we’ve decided.”
“Voting to cut employee pay and revoke the cost-of-living increases on town pension payments is idiotic,” Chuck Delgado snapped. “I shouldn’t have gone along with it. None of us will get re-elected.”
Maggie wheeled on him. “We’ve been over this a million times. Until Alex and Chief Thomas finish their investigation into the fraud and embezzlement perpetrated on the town and the pension fund, we have to drastically cut expenses.” She scrutinized each member of the assembled council. “You all agreed.”
“Where’s Councilwoman Holmes?” Russell Isaac asked. “She should be here by now. We said we’d do this together.”
Maggie inhaled sharply. “Tonya called thirty minutes ago. Her son broke his arm at football practice and she’s at the emergency room. She can’t make it tonight.”
“That’s bullshit,” Delgado exploded. “Now she can wash her hands of this entire fiasco.”
“Calm down, Chuck,” Haynes said. “She can’t leave her kid alone at the hospital.”
“Thank you, Frank,” Maggie said. “Tonya’s given me her proxy to vote for the measure.”
“That’s not the same thing as voting in person in front of this crowd,” Isaac observed. He turned to Scanlon. “You could diffuse the situation. Just announce that you’ve finished your investigation and William Wheeler is the only person implicated. That you’ve got your man and you’ll get a conviction. Soon.”
“I can’t do that,” Alex answered sharply. “Our ex-mayor may not be the only one involved.”
“Go to hell, Scanlon,” Delgado spat.
“That’s enough,” Maggie broke in as Chief Thomas approached.
“It’s time,” he said. “Every seat’s taken and more than three hundred people are waiting outside. I’ve got all available officers, plus some off-duty ones, in place. I’ll remain on stage with you. If I think we need to end the meeting for safety reasons, you’ll have to abide by my decision. It’s my call.”
Maggie nodded. How in the world had she gotten herself into this predicament? Less than three years ago she had been the wife of a college president, and a successful forensic accountant with a growing consulting practice. Now she was a widow and mayor of Westbury—as a write-in candidate no less—about to face a town’s wrath over a problem she had no part in making. She shook her head and straightened her shoulders.
“I’ll explain the budget we discussed,” she announced with more confidence than she felt. “Then we’ll all vote for it as planned.”
***
Catcalls and comments from the floor derailed Maggie’s presentation almost immediately. At one point, she felt certain Chief Thomas would step in to close the meeting. She finally finished and called for a motion to adopt the budget that would decrease the salary of every member of the audience as well as her own, a fact she had reiterated to the crowd. Haynes made the motion, which Isaac seconded. Maggie leaned into the microphone and voted yes. The crowd’s boos and jeers drowned out her pronouncement of Councilwoman Holmes’ proxy vote.
“Councilman I
saac?” she queried.
“I vote no.”
Maggie spun toward him. He dropped his gaze to avoid eye contact.
“Councilman Haynes,” she continued.
“I vote no.”
Maggie stiffened. So this is what it felt like to be stranded on the bridge while the rats deserted a sinking ship.
“Councilman Delgado.”
“I stand with my esteemed colleagues in support of our faithful town workers,” he pontificated. “I vote no.”
Pandemonium broke out in the auditorium as the crowd leapt to their feet and surged toward the stage. Maggie felt an arm around her shoulders pulling her firmly toward the rear exit. “You can deal with them later,” Chief Thomas said. “Right now, I need to get you out of here.”
Maggie complied in a daze. “I was set up, wasn’t I?”
“It appears so, ma’am,” the chief answered, sliding her into his cruiser with the practiced motion he employed for suspects heading to jail.
Chapter 2
Maggie followed the hostess to a table by the window overlooking the Shawnee River. She scanned the treetops just beginning to don the golden cloak of autumn, then checked her watch. Traffic had been light and she was twenty-five minutes early for her scheduled lunch with that preeminent expert on municipal finance, Professor Lyndon Upton. Maggie remembered his habit—annoying, really—of being early for every appointment. She didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot by making him wait for her.
She settled back into her chair. Westbury was beginning to feel like home, and she loved living in Rosemont, the manor house she had inherited from her late husband Paul. Her decision to uproot her life and move instead of just selling the place as originally planned had been uncharacteristically impetuous, but she knew it was right at the time. Despite the town’s unrest and the council’s recent betrayal, most days she still felt that way. But she certainly wasn’t living the quiet, solitary existence she had envisioned upon her arrival. Ever since she had assumed the position of mayor six months ago, she’d lived at a blistering pace, in the process breaking every promise to visit her family in California and to spend time with the new man in her life, Dr. John Allen.
Maggie shifted restlessly in her chair and retrieved the morning paper from the oversized satchel that served as her purse. There was no point in beating herself up over things she couldn’t change. Her family and John would have to understand that her obligations and responsibilities to the town came first.
She turned her attention to yet another article detailing the deplorable state of Westbury’s financial condition. The less than completely objective piece also decried the lack of progress in prosecuting former mayor William Wheeler for the fraud and embezzlement that had brought the town to the brink of bankruptcy. She hated to admit it, but the paper was right. The fraud investigation was stalled and, as she had discovered at the recent town council meeting, the council refused to take the necessary steps to restore the town’s ailing finances.
In spite of herself, Maggie turned to the editorial page where she was routinely the subject of criticism. Today was no exception. The editor’s column was titled “Martin’s Election a Failed Experiment in Democracy,” and all six of the published letters to the editor featured scathing indictments of her leadership. Her lack of experience in politics and her unfamiliarity with the town and its people were a constant refrain. Why had they elected a write-in candidate with no prior experience in public office, especially since she had moved to Westbury only a few months before the election? they queried.
Maggie agreed with much of that. The politics of this job were far beyond what she had ever anticipated. She didn’t know whom she could call on for assistance. Worse, with the exception of Tonya Holmes she didn’t trust any of the other councilmembers. For all she knew, some or all of them were involved in the corruption that had toppled Wheeler.
She fished an antacid from the roll that now lived in the outside pocket of her satchel, then took a drink of water and tossed the paper onto the floor by her chair. Whether or not she was qualified to clean up the mess that now defined the Town of Westbury, she was responsible for doing just that. Knowing she needed reinforcements, she had contacted her old colleague Professor Upton. If she were lucky, she’d enlist his aid over a nice lunch.
***
Maggie smiled hopefully across the table at the professor. “It’s kind of you to join me for lunch on your way back to Chicago. I know this takes you out of your way. I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”
“My pleasure, Maggie. Or should I call you Mayor Martin? Of course I remember you. We worked on that big fraud case some time ago. Our testimony put the defendant away for years, as I remember. Besides, your being the first write-in mayor in your state made news in Chicago. So I was more than a little intrigued when I received your call.”
“Have you heard anything about the arrest of our former mayor on fraud and embezzlement charges and the mess that the town’s finances are in?”
“A little bit, yes.”
“Well, that’s why I’ve invited you to join me today. And I’ve asked Special Counsel Alex Scanlon to be here as well. He should be along any minute. We need your help.”
Professor Upton raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recall any of the specifics. Can you fill me in?”
“Sure. Reader’s Digest version—Mayor William Wheeler was indicted on charges of fraud and embezzlement. He orchestrated risky high-interest loans from the pension fund secured by shopping centers around town. When the Recession hit, most of the borrowers couldn’t—and possibly had never intended to—make their payments. The pension fund foreclosed and sold the shopping centers for pennies on the dollar to offshore entities controlled by Mayor Wheeler. In effect, the pension fund lost a lot of money on these loans and Wheeler’s entities got to buy the shopping centers at an absurdly undervalued rate. To make matters worse, most of the shopping centers were owned by other offshore entities that he controlled. Those entities had taken out loans against the shopping centers for way more than the properties were worth, made only one or two mortgage payments, and then pocketed the remaining loan when the shopping centers went into default.”
“Classic equity skimming,” the professor remarked. “With multiple offshore entities involved, this was a very sophisticated scheme. Anyone else implicated? In my experience, carrying off this type of fraud takes more than one person.”
“That’s what we suspect, too. Wheeler was the only one indicted. I was part of the citizen’s group that investigated after the town workers were told that the pension fund might not be able to make its payments.”
“Who else do you think is involved?”
“Honestly, all of the council with the exception of Councilwoman Tonya Holmes. She was the first one to uncover the problem. She formed the citizen’s committee to investigate and obtained records as well as bank statements clandestinely from the town clerk, which the committee used to put the pieces of the scheme together. The pension fund also made loans on a bunch of vacation condominiums in Florida that Wheeler used to visit. Most of those have been foreclosed upon as well. We took our information to the police and Wheeler’s indictment followed shortly thereafter. I’d bet my bottom dollar that Councilmen Chuck Delgado and Russell Isaac are in this thing up to their eyeballs. Delgado’s brother, Ron, is the pension fund advisor, and he has to be involved, too. The only one I’m not sure about is Councilman Frank Haynes.” Upton looked like he was about to speak, but stopped himself and motioned her to continue. “He’s an extremely successful restaurant franchisee. Supports all the local sports teams, and founded and funds the no-kill animal shelter.”
“If he’s a legitimate businessman with philanthropic ties to the community, it’d be odd for him to get mixed up in this type of criminal activity,” Upton replied slowly. “Why do you suspect him? Is he tied in with the others?”
“No, not that we know of. Other than being on the council with Delgado and Isaac.” Maggi
e sighed. “Frank Haynes is a snake in the grass, for sure. I always get the impression that he’s coiled and ready to strike. And that he doesn’t do anything that isn’t in his own self-interest, despite all of his charitable causes.”
“That describes a lot of people. Doesn’t make them criminals.”
Maggie smiled. “True. He also backed Isaac in the special election last spring after Mayor Wheeler stepped down when he was indicted.”
“That was the election you won?” Upton asked. “How did you decide to run as a write-in candidate?”
“That’s the amazing thing—I never decided to run. I was a last-minute write-in candidate, and I didn’t even know it.”
Professor Upton leaned forward in his chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You didn’t know you were a candidate?”
Maggie nodded.
“I really need to hear about this!” Upton held her gaze.
“The committee agreed that we would all support Alex Scanlon to oppose Isaac. Alex had run for mayor in the prior election against Wheeler. He was interested in the position, and more than capable and qualified.”
Upton nodded.
“Alex ran a terrific campaign and was ahead in the polls the week before the election. We had one debate, held on the Thursday night before the election. Alex was brilliant, and it was clear he had the support of the voters. On the way home, he and his partner were in an auto accident. Alex was seriously injured, with multiple broken bones that required several surgeries and extensive physical therapy. On Election Day we knew Alex wasn’t capable of stepping into the mess in the mayor’s office. I figured that the election would go to Isaac. I was so busy going back and forth to the hospital, tending to both Alex and Marc that I frankly didn’t care. As it turns out, the committee mounted a grassroots effort to get me elected mayor as a write-in candidate. I was Alex’s campaign manager and did almost as much speaking around town as he did, so I guess people knew me.”
“Incredible.” He took a sip of water and slowly shook his head. “A lot’s happened to you in the last few years.”
Maggie laughed. “That’s for sure.”
Professor Upton leaned back in his chair. “So, how are you finding public office?”