Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series

by Barbara Hinske

  “I don’t know anything. I’m just helping Scanlon push paper.”

  “I think we both know that’s not true. Or won’t be for long.”

  “What exactly are you looking for?”

  “You tell us everything you know, and we’ll decide what’s important to us.” Delgado stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. “Here’s how we’ll do this. We’ll meet once a week, just like we’re doing now. Isn’t this cozy?”

  Smith turned away from Delgado. “You cooperate, and we can help with your career, too.”

  Smith finally nodded.

  “Smart boy. Good decision. How’s about we celebrate our new relationship?” He pulled a flask out of his breast pocket.

  “I don’t drink and drive,” Smith answered icily.

  Delgado shrugged. “Gotta have some fun once in a while, buddy boy.” He reached for the door handle. “I’ll see you here next week, same time.” He turned back to the younger man. “And don’t go doin’ nuthin’ stupid. You don’t wanna mess up that bright future of yours,” he said as he heaved himself out of the passenger seat and stumbled to his car.

  Chapter 35

  Maggie was in her seat in the council chamber as the department head and managers of the Transit Department filed into the room. The other members of the council who sat on the Transit Committee were Tonya Holmes and Russell Isaac. Tonya hurried to her seat as Maggie was calling the meeting to order. Russell Isaac was nowhere to be seen.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your very thorough report,” she said, resting her hand on a thick stack of papers, “and your recommendations for budget cuts.” She turned to Tonya. “Have you had a chance to review these in detail?”

  Tonya looked at Maggie and opened her mouth to reply, but her words froze on her lips. She stared, wide-eyed, at the flashing orb on Maggie’s left hand.

  Maggie smiled and shook her head. Later, she mouthed.

  Tonya cleared her throat and began. “I’ve reviewed them. The cuts to bus routes will yield the budget savings the council requested of the department, but we were hoping that the department could come up with other ways of saving money besides discontinuing essential services for a significant portion of our citizens.”

  The department head smiled smugly and shrugged. “There really isn’t anything else we can do,” he stated. “If you want to save money, that’s the only way.”

  “Really?” Tonya shot back. “You haven’t gone out to bid on your maintenance contract in over five years; you’ve made no effort to avail yourself of federal funds to defray the cost of newer, more energy-efficient vehicles; and you set the bus schedules using paper and pencil. It looks to me like you’ve made no effort whatsoever to modernize your department.”

  “What are you suggesting?” he demanded.

  “Maybe we should cut costs by replacing you with someone that’s interested in making improvements and running the department efficiently.”

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop precipitously while the Transit Department head and Councilwoman Holmes glared at each other.

  Maggie broke the silence. “I had some of the same questions this morning when I reviewed your report. Why don’t you use a computer program to generate your routes? I researched the issue. There are a number of programs available to municipalities.”

  “They cost money. And aren’t we supposed to be saving money?” he retorted.

  “They’re not that expensive. Have you investigated any of them?”

  A manager seated in the row behind the department head raised her hand.

  Maggie nodded to her. “Yes. Do you have something to add?”

  “Thank you, Mayor Martin. I’ve been looking into this very issue for the past several years. I’ve put together recommendations.”

  The department head swiveled stiffly in his chair to face her.

  Maggie and Tonya exchanged glances as the woman flushed and looked down at her hands.

  “Do you have them with you? We’d like to review the issue in detail. What’s the bottom line?”

  The woman cast a sidelong glance at the department head and cleared her throat. “I believe we can revamp our bus routes, adjust our fee schedule, provide expanded bus service, and almost double our ridership revenue. We won’t need to cut our routes, and we can contribute more money to the general fund,” she concluded proudly.

  “Now that’s the kind of thinking we need on Westbury’s staff,” Tonya declared.

  Maggie cut in. “That would be an outstanding improvement.” She turned to the department head. “I’m glad to see that your department is filled with such competent, creative people.”

  “I was just getting to this,” he lied.

  “Let’s review this proposal in depth and reach a decision on it before we leave here today,” Maggie said. “We don’t have the luxury of sitting on our hands.”

  She turned to the manager. “If this will do what you say it will, we need to act on it now.”

  ***

  The transit meeting finally concluded at seven o’clock. The department head shook hands unenthusiastically with Maggie and bolted for the exit before he had to speak to Tonya.

  “You won’t be sorry, Mayor Martin,” the manager who put forth the winning proposal said, pumping Maggie’s hand. “I’m positive this will work. It’ll be even better than projected.”

  “We appreciate your speaking up,” Tonya interjected. “I know that wasn’t easy. And if you get any backlash from your boss, you let me know.”

  “He won’t be any trouble,” she said. “I’ve worked for him for years. He just hates change. I think he’s scared of his computer. Now that you’ve made the decision, he’ll let me implement it.”

  Tonya nodded. “We won’t forget whose idea it was.”

  “Thank you,” the woman said happily as she made her way to the door.

  “We’re finally alone,” Tonya said, turning to Maggie. “Let me see that ring you’re sporting. You practically blinded me during the meeting. I almost pulled my sunglasses out of my purse.”

  Maggie grinned and held out her hand, waving her ring finger up and down.

  “Holy cow, girlfriend,” Tonya exclaimed. “Is this what I think it is?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “When did this happen? Did he propose properly, down on one knee and everything?”

  “He sure did. It was so romantic. On New Year’s Eve.”

  “New Year’s Eve? That was ages ago. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We got so busy with Roman getting lost and the new kittens and everything, it just didn’t seem like the right time. And John let me pick out my own ring, so we decided to wait until I had it.”

  Tonya stared at her pointedly. “You certainly picked out a gorgeous ring for yourself. Forgive me for being nosy, but I’ve got to ask. How big is that diamond?”

  “It’s four carats.”

  Tonya gasped.

  “Can you believe it? I told him I wanted a stone large enough that I wouldn’t need my reading glasses to see.”

  “Good move. You certainly won’t need any help to see this.” Tonya hugged her. “I’m so happy for both of you, Maggie. George will be thrilled to hear this. I can’t wait to give him the good news. We were heartbroken when the two of you broke up last year. You belong together.”

  “Thanks. You and George are very special to both John and me.”

  “When’s the big day?”

  “We haven’t gotten that far, yet. We need to coordinate the date with my kids and my granddaughters’ school holidays. But one thing is certain—the wedding will be at Rosemont.”

  Chapter 36

  Loretta knocked on the closed door to Frank Haynes’ office and cringed in anticipation of his response. She knew she was on thin ice because of her frequent absences to take care of her sick daughter, and she didn’t want to do anything to further annoy him.

  Loretta poked her head into the office. “Sorry to disturb you. You’ve
got a visitor.”

  “Delgado?” Haynes looked up from his computer screen. “I told him not to come here anymore—since he upsets you so much.”

  Loretta looked sharply at her boss; she didn’t know if he was being sarcastic or if he was trying to be nice. She’d bet on his being sarcastic. “It’s David Wheeler, sir.”

  “David?” Haynes rose from his chair and walked swiftly past her to the reception area.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, motioning the boy to follow him to his office. He turned to Loretta. “Can you get David something to drink? What do we have?”

  “We’ve got sodas in the refrigerator.” She turned to David and gave him an appraising glance. She’d never known Frank Haynes to offer anything to anybody when they visited his office. “Would you like something?”

  “A Coke would be great,” he replied, twisting his cap in his hands.

  “Would you like something, Mr. Haynes?” she asked, and he shook his head.

  She placed the soda can on a coaster in front of David Wheeler and exited the office, leaving the door open. Loretta was curious about this boy who had intruded upon Frank Haynes, uninvited, yet received such a warm reception from him.

  “How’s Dodger? Dr. Allen tells me he’s making a remarkable recovery.”

  “He’s doing great. But Dr. Allen doesn’t think he’ll be able to return to the agility class anytime soon. Maybe not ever.”

  “You don’t know that for certain. You have to give these things time,” Haynes said. “Don’t be discouraged.”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not discouraged. Mr. Vaughn suggested that Dodger would make a good therapy dog. You know—for old people and sick children. We’ve gone to Fairview Terraces three times, and Dodger is a natural. You should see the way people react to him.” David leaned forward in his chair and quit fidgeting with his cap. “It’s incredible. I think Dodger knows what these people need and that he’s helping them. I’m convinced of it.”

  Frank Haynes smiled. “I’ll bet he does. I’ve never seen a therapy dog in action, but I’ve heard about them. There’s definitely something to it.”

  “We’re going to get certified to go to the hospital. I’ve read all about it, and I’ve been working with Dodger. He knows all that stuff anyway. We take the test this Saturday.”

  Frank Haynes nodded. “That’s terrific, David. Good luck to you both. Thanks for stopping by to tell me,” he said, starting to rise from his chair.

  “That’s not why I came, Mr. Haynes,” David said.

  “Frank, remember?”

  David dug into his pocket and produced a ten-dollar bill, which he slid across the desk toward Haynes. “I want to start paying you back for all you’ve done for Dodger and me. Now that we can’t represent Forever Friends in the agility trials.”

  Frank Haynes picked up the bill and came around his desk to sit next to David. “I don’t want any of the money back that I gave you. It was a gift. And instead of representing Forever Friends at the agility trials, why don’t you represent us at the hospital and nursing homes? I think that’ll be even better public relations for us.”

  Loretta restrained herself from falling out of her chair. Maybe Frank Haynes does have a decent bone in his body. But why didn’t he ever show that to her?

  ***

  Glenn Vaughn was pushing back in his recliner on Saturday afternoon, preparing for a nap in front of the television when Frank Haynes called again.

  “I wanted to thank you, Glenn. I just had a visit from David. The kid’s spirits are high as a kite. He couldn’t stop talking about taking Dodger to Fairview Terraces.”

  “You should have seen them, Frank. Dodger is a terrific dog, friendly and calm. David’s done a terrific job of training him. But the remarkable transformation was in David.”

  “Really?”

  “David has a warm, charming bedside manner, and it’s genuine. I’m telling you what—he should pursue a career in medicine. He’d make a great doctor. Or maybe a vet.”

  Frank Haynes paused and realized he was smiling ear to ear. He sure was proud of that boy. “Good to hear, Glenn. Thank you for setting this up for him. He told me all about it. He’s fired up to work with the children.”

  “It’s your interest in this kid that got the ball rolling, Frank. I’m glad you called me.”

  “Thanks, Glenn. Let’s keep in touch.” Haynes ended the call with the unaccustomed feeling of being genuinely happy for someone else.

  Chapter 37

  Frank Haynes tossed the copy of The New York Times onto the Lucite coffee table in the sleek lobby of Hirim & Wilkens, attorneys-at-law. He pursed his lips as he checked the time on his Rolex; he’d been waiting almost an hour. The New York City skyline outside the floor-to-ceiling windows was shrouded in a foggy mist generated by a weather front that was in no hurry to move up the coast. He turned as a middle-aged woman in a severe black suit, hair swept into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, called his name.

  “Mr. Wilkens will see you now.”

  Haynes glared at her.

  “I’m sorry you had to wait, Mr. Haynes. This way, please. Can I get you something to drink?” she asked as she started down the long interior corridor lined with modern paintings done in shades of gray, black, and brown.

  Haynes swallowed his indignation and followed in her wake. He’d chosen Hirim & Wilkens for their reputation—creative, confidential, and ruthless. He’d made the long trip here; he wasn’t going to turn back now.

  The woman ushered him into a corner office overlooking Central Park and quietly shut the door. The man behind the steel and glass desk was on the phone but motioned Haynes to a stiff leather chair on the other side of the desk.

  Haynes sat and looked pointedly at the attorney.

  “Keep at it. Good work. Call me as soon as you’ve got something.” He replaced the receiver on the handset and rose, extending his hand. “You must be Frank Haynes. Simon Wilkens,” he said.

  Haynes shook his hand but maintained his icy stare.

  “Sorry about the wait. I’ve been on the phone talking to some of my sources. That’s who I was just talking to,” he supplied.

  “So you’ve reviewed the paperwork I sent you?”

  “Indeed I have, Mr. Haynes. Very intriguing.”

  “And? Have you drawn any conclusions?”

  “If the baby born to Mary Rose Hawkins was your mother, then you would have inherited an interest in Rosemont. Hector Martin’s will was poorly drafted. My guess is that he wrote it himself. Normally, the closest living heir would inherit. That would be you, as grandson, over Paul Martin, a great-nephew. But the will bequeathed his property to ‘my living heirs.’ That would be both you and Paul.”

  “So I own a half-interest in Rosemont? Is that what you’re saying? Is there any way to interpret that clause differently?”

  Simon Wilkens raised a hand. “Let me finish. Hector’s been dead for more than ten years. The estate was administered and closed. The law provides for something called a statute of limitations.”

  Haynes nodded. “I know what that is. You have to sue within a certain amount of time or you lose your right to do so.”

  “Exactly. Well put. There has to be certainty and finality to things. If the personal representative of Hector’s estate simply overlooked your possible inheritance, then the statute of limitations to pursue him or the estate has expired.”

  Haynes slumped back into the uncomfortable chair. “So—I’m screwed. A day late and a dollar short. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Not quite. We need to do some more digging.”

  Haynes head came up. “What do you mean?”

  “If evidence of your relationship to Hector Martin was purposely concealed by someone, so that the personal representative couldn’t have found out about you even if he tried, then the statute of limitations is tolled. That means it doesn’t begin to run until the information about your relationship to Hector could have been discovered.”
/>   Haynes sat and quietly considered this.

  “Did anyone know that Hector Martin was your mother’s father? Did you know he was your grandfather?”

  Haynes shook his head. “No. I had no idea until I found that old birth certificate last week. My grandmother died when my mother was a teenager. I don’t think my mother had any idea. Surely the man that raised her as his daughter would have known. He would have seen the birth certificate.”

  “Not necessarily. In those days, the fathers weren’t in the room when the baby was born. He might not have seen your grandmother that entire day, or longer. By that time, the birth certificate could have been safely placed with the Vital Records Office. Your grandmother signed it, but she probably never had a copy.”

  “I have the original,” Haynes said, reaching into his briefcase and handing the envelope he’d found in the folder to the lawyer.

  Simon Wilkens carefully withdrew the pivotal document and examined it. “It does appear to be the original. And you say you found it in a folder in the attic at Rosemont?”

  Haynes nodded.

  “Do I need to know how you came into possession of that folder?”

  Haynes ignored the question. “Where do we go from here?”

  “As you know, the personal representative of the estate retired and moved abroad while it was in administration and another attorney in his firm took over. We need to contact the firm to find out what investigation they undertook to find Hector Martin’s living heirs. It’s possible that this task fell through the cracks during the transition to the new attorney, and you’d be left with a negligence or malpractice action against the attorney, which would be barred by the statute of limitations.”

  “And if they conducted a thorough search but didn’t find anything—like this original birth certificate—because someone had removed it from the Office of Vital Records to conceal my relationship to Hector?”