Maggie looked at the terrified young mother in front of her. She leaned across the table and brought both of her hands to rest on Loretta’s. “I know,” she said softly.
Loretta gulped and turned her face to Maggie’s. “What do you know?”
“All of it,” Maggie said. “Susan sent me a photo of you and your children, taken in the hospital. I knew the moment I laid eyes on Nicole that she was Paul’s. I tried to talk myself out of it.” Maggie sat back in her chair. “But I knew. Susan heard about Nicole’s condition through my granddaughters. I thought that she was getting better. But then she took a turn for the worse.”
“I was so hopeful earlier this summer.” Loretta glanced out the window. “But here we are.”
“I’m so sorry,” Maggie said.
Loretta turned back to her. “This will come as quite a shock to your children, but I’ve got to call them. Nicole has no time to lose. I was hoping you wouldn’t turn them against me,” she concluded in a rush. “For Nicole’s sake.”
Maggie held Loretta’s gaze. “I’ve already spoken to them,” she said.
“When?”
“John and I flew out to California last weekend. I needed to tell them about their father in person,” she said. “Just like you’re doing now.”
“And?” Loretta felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“They’ve both agreed to be tested. Whichever one is the best match will donate a kidney.” Maggie watched as relief washed over Loretta Nash.
“They said yes?”
Maggie nodded. Loretta sat, trying to take it all in. She turned to Maggie. “You both went all the way out there because you knew Nicole needed a kidney from one of them?”
Maggie nodded again.
“That was a very kind thing, Mayor Martin.”
“For heaven’s sake, call me Maggie. I’d be lying if I told you that this hasn’t been difficult for me, but when I thought of your sweet little girl, I knew what I had to do.” Maggie went to a drawer in her kitchen and pulled out a pen and piece of paper. She printed her children’s phone numbers on it and handed it to Loretta. “They’re expecting your call.”
Loretta folded the paper carefully and put it into her purse. She rose from the table and faced Maggie. “You’ll never know how grateful I am,” she said.
Maggie walked with her to the door. “I did some research. I understand that kidney transplants in children are very successful.”
Loretta tried to smile. “That’s what they tell me.”
“We pray for Nicole and your family every day, Loretta,” Maggie said.
Loretta walked down the steps. She had been so scared of Maggie, but Maggie had been kind. This wasn’t at all like the last time. She turned back to Maggie, who was silhouetted in the open door. Paul had lied about his wife all along. Maggie Martin wasn’t a cold, calculating shrew.
“You were brave to come here, Loretta,” Maggie called as Loretta got into her car. I shouldn’t have been so rude to her when she came to see me last winter, Maggie thought as she watched her drive away. She’d been angry—even cruel—and turned Loretta out without giving her a chance speak. I wonder what she wanted those months ago.
***
Frank Haynes was already hard at work in his office when Loretta rushed through the door of Haynes Enterprises an hour later than usual that morning. He immediately got up and went to her desk.
“Is Nicole all right?” he asked.
Loretta nodded. “Yes, she’s about the same.”
“I was worried when you were late, without calling.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked up at him. “I went to see Maggie Martin this morning.”
“How did that go?”
“You were right. She was nice.”
He nodded, willing her to go on.
“Said she’d known about Nicole when she’d first seen her picture.” Loretta hung her purse on the hook under her desk. “Did you know that she and her husband flew to California to tell her children about Nicole? About everything?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It was kind of them to do that.”
Frank Haynes tapped his pencil into his palm. “So what will you do next? Are you going to call her kids and ask them about getting tested to be donors?”
Loretta smiled. “I didn’t have to. They’d already agreed after speaking with their mother. I spoke to both of them as soon as I left Maggie and put them in touch with the people at the transplant center. They said they’d get tested right away.”
“That’s wonderful news,” he said, thinking that now he didn’t have to offer up his interest in Rosemont in exchange for their cooperation.
“With any luck, she’ll have her transplant by the end of the year,” Loretta said. “Maybe a new kidney by Christmas.”
Frank Haynes stopped and stared. If the transplant were this year, he’d have to tap into his Rosemont fund to pay for it. He wouldn’t have the money to buy out Maggie. He shook his head, pushing the thought from his mind. No point in thinking about that now. These things take more time than anyone expects.
“Good news. I’ll leave you to it,” he said and retreated to his office.
Chapter 42
Frank Haynes sat on the concrete bench reading the Westbury Gazette, while he waited for the attendants to finish the Super Deluxe Car Wash that he got every week on his Mercedes sedan. A shadow fell on the page, and he turned to see what was blocking the light.
“Charles,” he said, trying to conceal his annoyance.
“Knew I’d find you here, Frankie,” Delgado replied. “You’re as regular as clockwork with that car of yours.”
“So how are you?” Haynes forced himself to make an effort. “You got out on bail right away.”
Delgado snorted. “Of course I did.”
“How’s it going? What does your lawyer tell you?”
“That their evidence is almost nonexistent, and he doesn’t expect to go to trial. Says he’ll get it all dismissed on motions.”
“There you go, then. It’ll all turn out fine.”
“Turn out fine?” Delgado raised his voice.
Haynes stood and began to move away. “Keep your voice down. We’re not supposed to be seen together, remember?”
Delgado followed. “It doesn’t matter to me if we’re seen together. I’ve already been arrested.”
“And you just said you’ll get off.”
“With my reputation tarnished, and stripped of my council seat.”
“If your lawyer gets you off, they’ll have to restore you to the council.”
Delgado paused. “I guess you’re right about that. And I still have enough clout to win an election against that idiot Knudsen, if he gets grandiose ideas and decides to run against me.”
“You mean you have enough money to buy the election,” Haynes observed.
Delgado smirked. “Same thing.”
“Why are you here?” Haynes asked. “I’ve never known you to be particular about your car.”
“I wanted a word with you, Frankie. Thought it would be good to run into you someplace. Make it look like a chance encounter.”
Haynes waited.
“I’m following my attorney’s advice—keeping my hands clean and leaving it to him. But I want you to know, Frankie, that I’ve got my boys out on the street, watching everything and everybody. I’m not going to get caught flat-footed again. If someone needs to be taken care of, I’m ready to do it.” He leaned in close. “Including you, Frankie. Don’t go gettin’ no ideas of goin’ to the authorities to save yourself. I’ll know if you do, and I won’t like it.” He chuckled. “That Forest Smith kid should be shoppin’ for a coffin. Our precious mayor and the Wheeler kid are in my crosshairs, too.” Delgado glanced at Haynes, then turned and retraced his steps to the bench.
“You car’s ready, Mr. Haynes,” the attendant said, extending his palm for the customary tip. Frank Haynes’ hand shook as he fumbled in his pocket for his wallet.
Chapter 43
John Allen got out of bed each weekday morning by four fifteen in order to be at Westbury Animal Hospital for morning surgery by five thirty. October twenty-fourth was a busy surgery day. He slid quietly out of bed, as was his custom, so he didn’t disturb his sleeping wife, and padded noiselessly toward the bathroom.
“It’ll be starting in an hour,” Maggie said from the wing chair in their bedroom, not more than four feet from him.
John started and grabbed his chest.
“Sorry. Did I scare you?”
“Yes, you scared me!” John said, doubled over and breathing hard. “I didn’t hear you get out of bed. When did you get up?”
“About an hour ago. I came over here and started reading emails on my phone. I didn’t want to go downstairs. The minute you do that, Eve and Roman want to go out and those cats insist on being fed.”
“Too nervous to sleep?”
Maggie nodded, even though he couldn’t see her in the dark.
“Are you going back to bed, or can I turn on the light?”
“I’m up. I may as well get ready and go to work.”
“Will you track the auction online?”
“No. That would drive me crazy. Besides, I have another transit committee meeting.” She rolled her eyes at him in the mirror. “You know how riveting those are. But it’ll force me to stay away from the Internet and focus on something besides this auction. And our future at Rosemont,” she concluded glumly. “Gordon Mortimer is attending the auction, and he promised to call me as soon as it’s done.”
“I think we’re going to get all the money we need. And if we fall a bit short, I’ve got some savings I can get to.”
Maggie turned and smiled at him as he stepped into the shower. “You’re as kind and generous as you are good-looking. If only the appraisal of Rosemont hadn’t come in so high,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the running water of the shower. “We’ve got to come up with two million four hundred seventy thousand dollars in order to buy out Frank’s share.”
“The good news is,” John yelled, “that this place is worth almost five million.”
I hope we’ll be able to continue to call it home, Maggie thought as she glanced at the clock on her vanity. We’ll know soon enough.
***
Mayor Maggie Martin called the meeting of the transit committee to order promptly at nine o’clock and did her best to pay attention to every speaker. If later asked to summarize what was discussed, she would have been hard-pressed to supply any details. When the meeting finally adjourned shortly before eleven, she darted out of the room and back to her office before anyone could detain her.
She asked her assistant to hold her calls and shut the door to her office firmly behind her. She dug into her purse for her cell phone and was gratified to see a missed call from Gordon Mortimer. He hadn’t left a message, and she punched in his number. He answered on the first ring.
“Mayor Martin,” he said, sounding chipper. “The auction has been completed and all items sold.”
Maggie remained silent, willing him to get to the point: How much money had they raised?
“You’ll be wanting to know the winning bids. Do you have your bid sheet handy?”
“I don’t need to know the amount for each item,” she said, stopping herself from snapping. “You can email that to me. Right now, I’m most anxious for the total.”
“Of course. The silver that I recommended you place in this auction did rather well,” he said officiously. “Our joint efforts—Sotheby’s and mine—produced a lot of interested bidders.” He sounded pleased with himself.
Maggie wanted to scream at him. Get to the point!
“Taken together, your share is one million five hundred and sixty thousand dollars.”
Maggie’s pulse raced. “That’s more than you predicted on its best day.”
“It is indeed. We know how to place things for auction.”
“So what did the Martin-Guillaume Biennais go for?”
“That, madam, was a disappointment. As we advised, waiting for the Paris auction—”
“What did it sell for, Mr. Mortimer?” she asked, cutting him off.
“Your share will be eight hundred seventy thousand dollars.”
Maggie did a quick sum on a scratch pad and slumped into her desk chair. That left them forty thousand short. She knew she and John could scrape together the remaining money, but they wouldn’t be able to offer more than the required minimum to buy out Frank Haynes. He would almost certainly offer two million six or seven, to assure that he ended up with Rosemont. She had wanted to beat him at his own game, but that was now impossible. She should have forced him to sue her so that she had time to wait for the Paris auction. Then she might have had the money she needed. But the die had been cast. Her ace in the hole—the Martin-Guillaume Biennais tea set—had sold for less than she needed.
“Mayor Martin? Are you still there?”
Maggie forced herself back to the present. “I’m here,” she said, fighting back tears, “but I have to go. Please send me an email with all the details, and thank you for all you’ve done,” she said before she ended the call.
Maggie rose and walked to the window of her office. She should be grateful for all that Rosemont had brought into her life. If it weren’t for Rosemont, she wouldn’t have found Eve in the snow outside her library doors that first fateful night in the house. Eve had led her to her wonderful new husband. She was mayor of Westbury because she had moved to Rosemont. Even with all of its headaches and challenges, being mayor was the most fulfilling job she could imagine. Not to mention that, if she had to sell her half of Rosemont to Frank Haynes, she’d suddenly have more than two million dollars in cash. Why in the world do I feel like my heart is being ripped from my chest?
Maggie returned to her desk, shut down her computer, and said goodnight to her assistant on her way out the door. Dr. John Allen would have to make time for an unscheduled visitor. The only thing she needed right now was to have his arms around her.
Chapter 44
Frank Haynes looked up from the spreadsheet he was studying on his computer. Loretta Nash had been on the phone all morning and from the snippets of conversation that he’d heard from his office, she was not attending to company business. Although her back was to him, something in the tone of her voice drew his attention. He rolled his chair closer to his door and leaned toward her, straining to hear the conversation she was making an effort to conceal.
“The transplant has been scheduled for the Tuesday after Thanksgiving,” Loretta stated. “We’ve already found the donor, and everything’s been scheduled. My daughter’s half-sister is taking time off of work to donate her kidney. It’s all arranged.”
Loretta’s back stiffened as she listened to the lengthy reply.
“What do you mean, my insurance won’t authorize the transplant? How can they disapprove it? You’re the ones that tell them it’s necessary, aren’t you?”
Again, Loretta listened, clicking her pen repeatedly.
“No, I don’t understand at all. You told me Nicole needs a transplant. How can they say that it’s premature—that she should stay on dialysis longer? Why can’t you explain it to them?”
She stood and swayed from side to side as she listened.
“I don’t agree that you’ve done all you could do! Where does this leave Nicole? She’s not going to get a lifesaving transplant because some pencil pusher wants to save the insurance company money? Why would I give a damn about that?” she asked, her voice hard and shrill.
“No, I don’t want to schedule Nicole for dialysis. We can do that here in Westbury. I want the transplant booked. I can pay for it myself—without insurance,” she said, thinking of Frank’s promise to help. Haynes strained even harder to hear. “How much will it all cost?”
Loretta listened. “That doesn’t sound too bad.” She sat down in her chair and picked up a pen to scribble numbers on a piece of paper. “That�
��s just the acquisition cost?” she asked, writing furiously. “I didn’t realize everything wasn’t included.”
Frank Haynes watched as she took down a long list of numbers.
“That’s more than a million dollars!” Loretta shrieked. “No. I don’t think my guarantor can pay all that.” She stifled a sob. “So I’m supposed to put her back on dialysis and wait for her condition to get worse? Is that what you’re telling me?” Loretta stabbed the pen into the paper.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” she was losing her grip on her self-control. “Have yourself a great day while my child suffers,” she yelled into the phone before she slammed it down on its receiver.
Loretta spun around quickly and caught sight of Frank Haynes as he tried to wheel his chair back behind his desk. She threw her pen onto her desk and stalked into his office.
“Did you hear that?” she demanded.
He knew better than to deny it. He nodded.
“So my insurance company says she hasn’t been on dialysis long enough. They want to see if she’ll recover.”
“I thought this was a birth defect and wasn’t something she could recover from.”
“That’s exactly right. That’s why the doctors recommended a transplant now.”
“Can’t they tell that to the insurance company and convince them to change their mind?”
“They said they tried. We now have to appeal the denial, which they’ve already started. But that will take months,” she said as she crumpled into the chair across from his desk.
“The transplant is set for the end of November, isn’t it?”
Loretta nodded.
“Surely they’ll process the appeal by then. Is the transplant center giving them all the information they need?”
Drawing Close: The Fourth Novel in the Rosemont Series Page 19
