“So, what’s got you so riled up?” Maggie asked, motioning him to a chair and taking her seat.
“You’re bringing in Bill Stetson to take over the investigation.” His voice quivered in anger.
“I most certainly am not. How in the world did you get that idea?”
“My paralegal’s cousin is a junior partner at the firm, and she heard about it last night. She told me first thing this morning.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! I’m going to kill Bill Stetson,” Maggie replied.
“So it’s true?” Alex surged out of his seat.
“Of course not! I’d never do that to you, and you know it. I went to Bill yesterday to ask him—tell him, really—to assign a senior associate to assist you. Help you with this blasted mountain of paperwork that’s burying this investigation.”
“Then why is Bill going to work on it?”
“He’s not. I made that perfectly clear. The town isn’t going to pay them one dime more than their retainer, so you can bet that Bill won’t lift a finger.”
“That’s for sure.”
“You should have seen him. I basically told him that since they’ve provided no services to earn their retainer for the last six months, I wanted thirty hours a week from the firm.”
Alex smiled. “Good one. I’ll bet he hated that.”
Maggie nodded.
“But you’re being fair.”
“Thank you. He’s assigning an attorney named Forest Smith. Do you know him? If you don’t like him, we’ll get someone else.”
“We’ve been on opposite sides a couple of times. But he’s a very capable lawyer.”
“Good. Satisfied now?”
Alex looked at his hands folded in his lap. “Yes. I’m sorry I came in here, guns blazing.”
“I didn’t deserve that.”
“No, you didn’t. It won’t happen again.”
Chapter 28
Chuck Delgado tapped the end of his pencil against the top of the elevated, semi-circular bench in the council chambers. Councilmember Holmes was making a presentation about the citizens’ forums, none of which he’d attended. Delgado raked his eyes over the crowd, trying to decide if he wanted to persuade any of the women in the audience to have a drink with him afterward. He was studying two women in the back row when Frank Haynes slipped in the side door and quietly made his way to his seat on the opposite side of the bench. Delgado tried to catch his eye, but Haynes never glanced up.
Maggie Martin surreptitiously watched the scene unfold.
Haynes removed his coat and placed it carefully around the back of his chair. He glanced in Delgado’s direction as he opened the file folder containing the agenda and handouts supplied at every town council meeting. His head snapped back to the folder. There, on top of the agenda, was his long-lost cell phone.
Haynes hesitated, his hand resting on the phone before picking it up and turning it on. He studied the screen, then slipped the phone into his pocket.
He picked up the agenda and made a show of scrutinizing it. Maggie suppressed a smile. He must be wondering who found his phone and placed it in his folder. He’d have to suspect it was she. Anyone else would have turned it in directly to him to claim the hundred-dollar reward.
Haynes swiveled to look directly at Maggie who quickly cut her eyes to the front. Maggie leaned into her microphone and called Special Counsel Alex Scanlon to the podium.
“Thank you, Mayor Martin. As you know, our investigation is proceeding. We’re aggressively pursuing the offshore banks. Gathering information from them has proven to be very difficult. We’re dealing with complicated international law. We’ve recently secured the assistance of an attorney from Stetson & Graham,” he said, and Chuck Delgado stiffened. “We’re encouraged by our progress and hope to have more to report at the next council meeting.”
Maggie rose. “Thank you. We all appreciate how hard you’re working. Unless any of the councilmembers has something to add?” She paused while each member shook his or her head. “We are adjourned.”
Delgado glanced longingly at one of the women in the back row but reluctantly abandoned his prey. He needed to find out which attorney from Stetson & Graham was now working with Scanlon. He pushed past Isaac and grabbed Scanlon’s arm as he was making his way to the exit.
“So,” Delgado began, “you couldn’t handle this on your own. Needed to bring in the big guns.”
Scanlon bristled. “You’re the least qualified person in town to have an opinion on any of this,” he shot back. “Despite all of your brushes with the law.”
Delgado smirked, satisfied that he’d gotten under Scanlon’s skin. “Bill takin’ over for ya?”
“If you must know, they’ve assigned a senior associate to help. Not Bill Stetson.”
“Who’s that?” Delgado asked.
“A very capable young attorney named Forest Smith.”
Delgado repressed the urge to grin from ear to ear.
Later that evening in his office above his liquor store, Delgado poured himself his third glass of Jameson’s—neat—picked up his phone, and dialed a familiar number.
Frank Haynes cringed when he saw the name on his caller ID. He’d been pleased to escape after the council meeting without speaking to the fellow councilmember. “Chuck,” he said curtly as he answered the call.
“Frankie boy,” Delgado replied, trying not to slur his words.
Haynes checked his watch. It was after ten. Of course Delgado was well on his way to being intoxicated. He waited.
“You there, Frankie?”
“What do you want, Charles?”
“I’ve got good news, Frankie. Our esteemed mayor said that uppity professor from Chicago isn’t working with the town anymore.”
“Is that so? Why?”
“Said he’s become too busy with other engagements. Probably tired of messing with us for no dough. Anyway, the other good news is that new lawyer investigating us—the one from Stetson & Graham—we own that kid.”
“What do you mean, Charles? Bill Stetson is above reproach. The firm is clean.”
“The firm, yes—but this Forest Smith kid is an addict. Prescription painkillers—got addicted after he broke his back in a skiing accident. Sad story, but good for business. We hoped Scanlon would go the same way after he survived his auto accident,” Delgado paused to laugh. “But it isn’t happening with him. This Smith kid is in deep. And his supplier is one of our friends.”
“One of your friends, Charles, not mine. I don’t have any involvement with drugs. And if you do, I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Don’t go gettin’ all high and mighty on me, Frankie. You’re in this pension fund debacle up to your eyeballs, just like the rest of us.”
Haynes remained silent, fervently hoping his Miami connection had cleaned up all of the records as he’d been paid to do.
“Anyway, I’ll review the situation with Smith. Let him know what we expect of him.”
“And what would that be?”
“He’s our eyes and ears on the inside. Do what Scanlon tells him, but keep us informed. For now. And if he uncovers anything that incriminates us, we’ve got him in place to bury it.” Delgado chuckled.
“Cover-ups generally backfire,” Haynes said quietly.
“You’d better hope not,” Delgado replied. Haynes hung up the receiver and leaned back in his chair, contemplating this new development. Maybe Delgado and his cronies would get away with embezzling from the town and the pension fund after all.
Chapter 29
Maggie bounded out of bed on Saturday morning. She was going ring shopping! She hurried Eve through her morning walk and managed to feed the kittens without them escaping and scrambling all over Rosemont. She was just stepping out of the shower when her phone rang. Her caller ID told her it was Susan. She quickly threw her hair in a towel and slung her robe around her shoulders.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she said. “It’s really early there. Is everything okay?”
Maggie smiled. “I didn’t, but I promise I’ll check them before I leave. I’m not so sure they’re all for me, anyway—some look more like you than me. How are things with the good doctor?”
“Beyond wonderful, Mom. Even though we’re both busy, we see each other on the weekends and talk every day—even if it’s just a quick goodnight … Sometimes I worry things are going too well.”
“Now that’s just plain silly,” Maggie chided her daughter. “A relationship shouldn’t be a big struggle. You’ll have challenges to face together, but dealing with each other shouldn’t be one of them.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. I get scared when I’m too happy.”
“That’s nonsense,” Maggie replied. “And I think we’ll need to save that Pinterest board. I bet you’ll be in the market for a ring soon, too.”
“We’ll see,” Susan said, and Maggie heard the hope in her voice.
“I’ll call you when we’re done,” Maggie said.
“You’ll text me a photo of that ring before you leave the jeweler,” Susan ordered.
***
John pulled up to Rosemont at ten fifteen, and Maggie was ready and waiting. They found a parking spot at the curb and were immediately buzzed in to the bright showroom of Burman Jewelers. Harriet Burman came around the glass case to hug John.
“We’ve been waiting for this day for a long time. And I’m so happy to meet you, Mayor Martin,” she said, extending her hand.
“Maggie, please,” Maggie said, shaking her hand. “And I’m thrilled to meet you—especially under these circumstances.”
“Larry’s got some diamonds that I think you’re going to love. They’re in a private room in the back. Let’s get some settings you’d like, and we’ll take them back to select the main stone.”
“That’s a great idea,” Maggie agreed. She turned to John. “Did you have anything you wanted me to look at?”
John held up his hands. “Absolutely not. I’d have no idea. You pick it out, and I’ll pay for it.”
Harriet beamed. “He’s perfect, isn’t he?”
“Indeed he is,” Maggie agreed.
“Do you have an idea of what you’d like?”
“Generally,” Maggie replied. She wandered over to a case containing engagement rings and wedding bands. The two women spent the next thirty minutes discussing and evaluating a dozen settings, with Maggie returning each time to one with sweeping channels of baguettes circling a mounting for a princess-cut diamond.
“It looks nice on your hand,” John ventured.
“Let’s take it and a couple of the others back to see how they’ll look with the central stone,” Harriet suggested.
“Just this one,” Maggie stated decisively. “This setting is the one I want.”
“It’s my favorite, too,” Harriet said. “Very unusual. No one else will have one like it.”
Harriet led John and Maggie to a private room with high spotlights focused on a small round table in the middle. A tray of six stones spread out on a black velvet cloth rested on the table.
Maggie gasped and turned to John. “I was assuming we’d get a two-carat stone.”
“You said you wanted one big enough to see without reading glasses, so that’s what I told Harriet to get.”
“I was only kidding,” Maggie laughed.
“Now she tells me.” John winked at Harriet. “So which one do you like?”
Maggie turned back to Harriet. “How big are these?”
“They’re all between 3.5 and 4.5 carats. And all very good diamonds. As I said, you’ve hit pay dirt with this guy.”
“Good grief! Seriously?” She turned to John.
“Quit gawking and pick out your stone. Harriet’s a busy woman,” John replied.
“You’re sure about this? I can pick any of these?”
John nodded. Maggie leaned over and kissed him. “You are the most generous man on the planet.” She turned back to Harriet. “Okay, let’s get busy!”
Picking the stone was easier than picking the setting; one spoke to her the minute she walked into the room.
“When can you have it set and sized?” she asked.
“We’ll need at least a week. I’ll give you a call when it’s ready.”
“Could you lay the stone in the setting so I can take a picture of it with my cell phone? My daughter will never let me hear the end of it if I don’t send her a picture.”
“Of course,” Harriet said. “I was just going to suggest it.”
It was almost noon by the time they’d said their goodbyes to Harriet and were back out on the sidewalk. “Let’s head over to Pete’s for lunch,” John said.
“Perfect idea. And after what you’ve just done, I’m picking up the check.”
***
“Give me a minute to clear that table by the window,” Pete said, hailing a busboy.
“We’re not in a tearing hurry,” John replied.
“That’s a first for the two of you,” Pete remarked as Frank Haynes and David Wheeler approached.
“Hello, Frank, David,” John said, shaking both their hands. “What’re you two up to?”
“We just finished agility class,” Haynes replied. “You should see David and Dodger. Head of the class.”
David blushed. “I don’t know about that. He was off today.”
“Nonsense,” Haynes said. “Seemed fine to me. Everyone—even dogs—are entitled to an ‘off’ day.”
Maggie swiveled to look directly at Haynes. She never thought she’d hear the voice of moderation from him. Some people were full of surprises. “You’re on your way out?” she asked.
“Yes,” Haynes replied. “We usually stop in after class before I take David and Dodger home.”
She turned to David. “Would you be available to swing by Rosemont this afternoon? I’d like to have some of the furniture in the attic moved around. I don’t think it’ll take more than an hour.”
“Sure. That’d be fine.”
Maggie didn’t notice the hard gleam in Frank Haynes’ eyes. “We’re going to grab a quick bite and then John will drop me off at Rosemont. Can you come over in an hour?”
“I’ll be there,” David assured her.
***
Maggie had just hung up her coat when Frank Haynes’ Mercedes sedan pulled up to her front door and he and David got out of the car.
“Frank,” Maggie exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to see you.”
“I’ve been in that attic, remember?”
“Indeed I do,” Maggie replied. “I’m still trying to forget that horrible day I got trapped up there. Thank God you came along, Frank. I’m still grateful.”
Frank waved away the compliment. “Some of that furniture is fairly large. Since you said that John was dropping you off, I figured David might need a hand with it. So I offered to come with him to help.”
Maggie stared, mouth agape. This was definitely not the Frank Haynes she experienced on a daily basis at Town Hall. “That’s awfully nice, Frank,” she replied.
The three of them were halfway up the first flight of stairs when Maggie’s phone began to ring on the console table in the entryway.
“Just start moving the chairs by the windows into the center of the room,” Maggie said, retracing her steps. “Let me get the phone, and then I’ll be right up.”
Frank Haynes smiled his Cheshire cat grin and took the stairs to the attic two at a time, with David on his heels.
Haynes switched on the overhead bulbs and gestured to the chairs. “Why don’t you start sliding them over here?” he said, indicating a clearing in the center. “And I’ll circle around to see what we’ve got.”
David began tugging an oversized wing chair into place as Haynes proceeded slowly in the opposite direction. He might have missed the folder he was searching for if he hadn’t stepped on it
and started to slip. He looked down and there, under his right foot, was the folder he’d fantasized about since that fateful day just months ago when he’d forced the attic door open and rescued Maggie; the folder labeled F.H./Rosemont. He still didn’t know why he hadn’t taken it when he’d had the chance. But that chance was now presenting itself to him again.
Frank Haynes quickly bent and picked up the folder. He glanced at David, struggling with an unwieldy chaise. Haynes tucked the folder inside his jacket and tugged the zipper shut.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he practically squealed with joy.
David gave him an odd look.
Haynes turned to the door. “And here’s Mayor Martin. Tell us where you want all of this, and we’ll be on our way.”
Chapter 30
Frank Haynes turned left out of the long, winding driveway to Rosemont and headed his Mercedes sedan to David’s house.
“Sorry it took so long,” David said.
“I just need to check on something at one of my restaurants, that’s all,” Haynes replied, aware that he was becoming increasingly testy as time went on.
David nodded. “I really appreciate the ride home and the agility classes.”
Haynes glanced at the boy. “The two of you have the knack for it. You remind me of me and my dog when I was your age.”
“Did you do agility?”
“No. I didn’t know about it back then.”
David sighed. “I just hope Dodger is okay. He was definitely not himself today.”
Haynes reached across and patted his arm. “Keep an eye on him. If you’re still worried in a couple of days, we’ll take him to Dr. Allen.”
Frank Haynes pulled into David’s driveway. “Let me know how Dodger is doing, one way or the other. Call me tomorrow, okay?”
David nodded and Haynes backed out of the driveway and headed for Haynes Enterprises. The allure of the folder hidden in his jacket was overpowering.
***
Frank Haynes sprinted up the steps to Haynes Enterprises. He was glad it was a Saturday and he’d be alone. He wanted to review the folder—the one he’d been fixated on since that day in the attic—in private.
Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series Page 11