Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series (11 page)

Chapter 27

“Mayor Martin,” Bill Stetson said, extending his hand.

“I’m
sorry to barge in on you without an appointment,” Maggie said.

“Don’t
be ridiculous,” replied the senior partner of Stetson & Graham, the town’s
outside counsel for as long as anyone could remember. “You never need an
appointment here. The town is our most important client.”

“I
wouldn’t let the others hear that,” Maggie chided.

“To
what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m
here to solicit help for Alex. The fraud investigation is bogged down in
procedural red tape. We’re trying to get documents from those offshore banks.
Until we get our hands on those records, we’re dead in the water.”

“I’ve
heard rumors,” he said.

“We’re
in the middle of a hiring freeze, so I can’t put anyone else on the payroll to
help him. But we’ve got your firm on retainer, and since Alex has taken on the
role of special counsel, we haven’t drawn on your firm for services.”

“The
retainer is a fixed amount, whether you use us or not,” he was quick to remind
her.

“I
understand that,” Maggie replied. “But given our long association—and in
light of the dire circumstances the town is facing—I know you wouldn’t
want to be seen as not providing value for the sizable amount you receive from
us.” Maggie held his gaze.

Stetson
cleared his throat. “Of course not. We’re always happy to help. I’ll call Alex
and see what I can take over.”

“I’m
not presuming that we need to impose on your time, Bill,” Maggie said sweetly.
“I was thinking that you could assign a senior associate to assist
Alex—maybe thirty hours a week?”

Stetson
opened his mouth to protest.

“Since
the firm hasn’t done anything for the town in the past six months, I think you
should give us a little time to make up for that.”

Stetson
nodded slowly. “We’d be happy to assist,” he said, sounding none too happy.
“I’ve got just the person: Forest Smith. He’s smart and aggressive and a hard
worker. Let me talk to him in the morning.”

“Good,”
Maggie said, rising. “Let me know, and I’ll make the introduction to Alex.” She
headed to the door, then turned back. “I haven’t spoken to Alex yet, so I’d
appreciate it if you’d keep this quiet until I inform him of my decision.”

“Absolutely,
Mayor Martin.”

***

Maggie was on her way to fetch a second cup of coffee
the next morning when Alex bounded off the elevator, almost bowling her over.

“Good
morning,” she said. “You’re in a hurry.”

“I’m
here to ask what the hell you’re up to,” he spat.

“If
you’re here to see me, you’d better ask for a mulligan and start over.” Maggie
looked him straight in the eye. “I’m the mayor of this town, and I deserve
respect. You can be mad at me, Alex, and we can disagree, but you must be civil.”

Alex
stopped short and looked down. Maggie stood patiently and waited, her gaze
never leaving his face.

He
nodded, and she pointed down the hall. “You can wait in my office. I’m going to
get a cup of coffee. May I get you one?”

Alex
declined her offer, and she watched him stride down the hall. Sometimes being
mayor was just like being a mother of recalcitrant teenagers. Still, she and
Alex were supposed to be on the same side and his hostility was wearing on her
last nerve. She took her time with her coffee, hoping he’d cool down.

“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?”

“Fine,
Mom. I know you’re going to the jeweler today and wanted to make sure you saw
the last few photos I pinned on our Pinterest board.”

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.”