Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series

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Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series Page 4

by Barbara Hinske


  “I thought Ricardo was coming,” he stated quietly.

  The man shrugged. “He got busy.”

  “You are?” Haynes replied, extending his hand.

  “What does it matter? I’m here with a message from Ricardo.”

  Haynes nodded and withdrew his hand.

  “I have to make sure you keep your part of the bargain first.”

  Haynes reached under the table to the briefcase at his feet and released the closures at either end, cracking it open to allow a glimpse of the cash inside. The man leaned over to tie his shoe. When he sat up, he spoke softly and slowly.

  “Is it all there? You don’t want to short us,” he stated in a tone that sent shivers down Haynes’ spine, despite the sweltering day.

  “Of course it’s all there,” Haynes said. “I’m not an idiot.”

  The man grasped the briefcase but Haynes did not let go. “Has everything been taken care of? Have all traces of my name and bank accounts been erased from the files of every offshore bank? The town’s special counsel will be subpoenaing the records in the next few weeks.”

  The man smiled. “Relax, brother. Didn’t Ricardo tell you they would? As far as the banks are concerned, you don’t exist.”

  “And you’ve made sure that William Wheeler and Chuck Delgado are the only names and bank accounts that will be found?”

  The man inclined his head slightly. “But of course. It’s all done, as you directed.”

  Haynes slid the briefcase over to the man and released his grasp.

  The man smiled. “Pleasure doing business with you. Where are you headed from here?

  “Back home, as soon as possible.”

  “What a pity. You should stay a few days and enjoy our hospitality. Get some sun. It’d do you good.”

  “Perhaps,” Haynes replied, and they both knew he would head for the airport as soon as he left the table.

  Chapter 10

  Loretta Nash unlocked the door of Haynes Enterprises to sign for a package delivered by UPS. Her boss was still “out of town,” and she wasn’t taking any risks. She deposited the heavy carton on his desk and was retracing her steps to lock the door when Chuck Delgado stepped across the threshold. A pasty gray replaced his usual florid complexion, and despite the cold outside, he was sweating profusely.

  She pushed down the fear that threatened to freeze her to the spot and walked around to the back of her desk, putting it between her and this monster who had attempted to rape her just a few days ago.

  “Hey, doll,” he said as he pulled a soiled handkerchief from his coat pocket to harness a moist sneeze. Loretta recoiled in disgust. “Where’s Frankie?”

  “He’s not here.”

  “I’ll wait,” he said, sinking into the sofa against the wall.

  “He won’t be back today.”

  “Where the hell is he?” Delgado asked, heaving his heavy frame to his feet.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Tell him to call me, okay?”

  Loretta stared at him icily.

  “What’s wrong with you, kid? Sore that we didn’t get to finish what we started the other night?” He angled toward her and began coughing so hard that he doubled over. “I’m under the weather, so you’re just gonna have to wait,” he sputtered.

  “You’d better get home and get to bed,” she answered, willing him to move to the door.

  “It’ll be your turn, soon. I promise you—I’ll finish what I started,” he sneered and exited into the sunless afternoon.

  Loretta locked the door before he reached the first step. She made her way unsteadily to the window and released her breath as she watched him drive away. Avoiding him wouldn’t be possible, and she couldn’t live with the constant fear that he might be lurking around every corner. Loretta knew what she had to do. She’d have no peace as long as Chuck Delgado was a free man. She needed to deliver that jump drive to Maggie Martin.

  ***

  That evening, while her children were playing with friends at a neighbor’s apartment, Loretta carefully retrieved the jump drive from its hiding place in the back of her closet and set out for Rosemont. She drove slowly up the driveway, gathering her courage, praying fervently that Maggie was home alone. Loretta wanted to finish this.

  As she rounded the final corner, she noticed the front door closing and a set of taillights disappearing down the far side of the drive. Her pulse quickened. It looked like her timing was perfect; someone had just left. She parked in front of the entryway and quietly closed her car door.

  She paused for a moment. There was still time to retreat—to abandon this mission that was sure to destroy Frank Haynes and, with him, her lucrative new job. The genie was not yet out of the bottle. She strengthened her resolve. This was the right thing to do. And Frank Haynes and Chuck Delgado deserved whatever was coming to them.

  Loretta walked deliberately up the steps and knocked firmly on the solid mahogany door. A dog began to bark, and a smiling Maggie Martin opened the door.

  “I knew you’d be back. You forgot—”

  Maggie felt her smile slowly drain away. She stared at the attractive woman where she had expected to see John Allen. There was something familiar about her. Then recognition hit her like a slap in the face. This was the other woman—the woman she had seen pulling out of that upscale Scottsdale driveway in a new Escalade while Maggie sat sweltering in a rental car pulled to the opposite curb, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, trying to make sense of her newfound knowledge that her dead husband had clandestinely maintained a second family. And now that woman was standing on the doorsteps of Rosemont.

  The woman opened her mouth to speak, but remained silent. She clutched her purse tightly to her side and waited.

  Maggie stiffly motioned her to cross the threshold.

  The woman extended her hand. “I’m Loretta Nash, Mayor Martin.”

  “I know who you are.” Maggie made no move to take the proffered hand, and it slowly returned to the woman’s side.

  The two women, from different worlds but with a common intersection, regarded each other warily. Maggie drew a ragged breath. “I can’t believe you’ve the unmitigated gall to track me down.”

  Loretta made no move to retreat.

  “You’d better tell me why you’re here,” Maggie continued. “Follow me.”

  Maggie led her unwanted guest into the library and motioned her to a chair in front of the fireplace. Loretta perched on the edge of the cushion and fidgeted with the zipper on her jacket until it became stuck at the halfway point. She turned to Maggie who sat, arms crossed, staring at her.

  Loretta cleared her throat. “I work for Haynes Enterprises,” she began. “I’m a financial analyst. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

  “You’re right,” Maggie replied. Loretta pulled her jacket closer. “We haven’t met, but I know that you and my husband had an affair for years.”

  The words had their desired effect, and Maggie was secretly pleased. The woman gasped and began picking at the nail on her right index finger.

  “How … ?” she sputtered.

  “Does it matter?”

  Loretta slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she began, and Maggie raised a hand to stop her.

  “I don’t want to hear it. You’re not going to come here with a New Year’s apology on your lips and leave thinking you’ve cleaned the slate and made amends. It’s not that easy.”

  Loretta nodded. She swallowed hard and began again. “I understand. I didn’t come here to apologize.”

  Maggie snorted and pushed herself out of her chair.

  “Please,” Loretta implored. “I came because I need help.”

  Maggie wheeled on her. “You’ve got to be kidding. You think I’m going to help you?”

  “I’m having trouble with Frank Haynes and Chuck Delgado.”

  “The whole town is having trouble with them.”

  Loretta flushed. “For what it’s worth, Paul lied to me about you. He said that you
were as anxious for a divorce as he was—that you were waiting for his pension to vest before you announced your breakup. You know how convincing he could be. I didn’t know how those things worked. I was devastated when he died. And my kids and I lost everything.”

  “A married man lied to you about his marriage. That’s supposed to be surprising? You want me to feel sorry for you?”

  Loretta looked at her hands folded in her lap.

  “And how is it that you left Scottsdale and moved here to work for Frank Haynes?”

  “A headhunter found me this job,” Loretta replied with a hint of pride.

  Maggie took a step back and grabbed the mantel for support. So Frank Haynes had recruited Paul’s mistress to work for him. This could be no coincidence. He was stirring around in Maggie’s past.

  She turned back to Loretta. “I can’t help you.”

  “But Delgado tried to rape me.”

  “Then you need to call the police.”

  Loretta shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  “You’re not welcome here. You need to leave. Now,” Maggie said, pointing to the front door.

  Loretta opened her mouth to protest as Maggie stormed out of the room.

  Loretta rose stiffly to her feet and followed her to the entryway where Maggie stood holding the door open. “I am sorry,” Loretta said. She stepped out onto the stone steps.

  Maggie stopped short of slamming the door.

  Chapter 11

  “Whoa, what’s wrong, honey?” John said into his phone.

  Maggie tried again, but choked on her words. “I’m okay, but will you come back?”

  John quickly checked his rearview mirror and swung a U-turn in his Suburban. “On my way. I’ll be there in under five minutes. Just hang on.”

  Maggie sagged against the door she had just closed. Eve circled her beloved mistress, acutely aware that something was wrong. Maggie squatted and let Eve shower her with wet doggie kisses.

  By the time John pulled into the driveway, she was no longer crying. She flung the door open as soon as she heard his car approach. Eve didn’t race out to offer her greeting but remained at Maggie’s side.

  John took the steps two at a time and wrapped Maggie in his arms. “What in the world happened? Is something wrong with the kids?”

  Maggie drew back and shook her head. “No, nothing like that.” She looked at him long and hard. “It’s time I gave you all the sordid details about Paul.”

  She led him to the kitchen and poured them both a cup of coffee. They sat next to each other at the French farmhouse table, and John took her hands in his.

  “Whatever it is, we’re in this together. You know that. You can tell me anything.”

  Maggie inhaled and rubbed his hands with her own. “I think I once told you that I thought Paul had been cheating on me?”

  John nodded.

  “I know he was cheating on me because I hired a private investigator to find out where he’d been spending all of the money he embezzled from Windsor College.”

  John’s head snapped up.

  “He’d been embezzling for years—over two million dollars.” She paused to let the news sink in.

  “I never knew anything about it,” she added hastily. “He didn’t spend any of the money on me or the kids; he never brought any of it home.”

  “Maggie—I assumed that. I know you’d never be part of anything like that.” He scooted his chair closer and put his arms around her.

  Maggie released the breath she had been holding. “I quietly settled the college’s claim against his estate using the proceeds of his life insurance policy. The board of regents wasn’t keen to have the news of his embezzlement exposed since they’d be tarred and feathered over their lax oversight, and I didn’t want the kids to suffer the humiliation of having their father’s name dragged through the mud.”

  “Makes sense,” John interjected. “I’d have done the same.”

  “But I was curious about where he spent all the money. By that time, I knew he’d inherited Rosemont—I found ten years of accounting records, money he’d invested repairing and maintaining it. He spent a fair amount here, but nowhere near two million dollars. So I hired a private investigator.”

  Maggie hesitated and drew a ragged breath.

  “And?” John prodded.

  “Paul supported a second family. A much younger woman with two school-aged children—not Paul’s, thankfully—in a very upscale home in Scottsdale, Arizona.” Maggie turned away. “I’m not proud of this, but one September afternoon after Paul died, I flew to Scottsdale to find this woman.”

  Maggie choked back a sob and John drew her close. “I acted like every cliché in the book. I even got sick in the rental car and, after I saw her, I drove straight home—my return plane ticket be damned.”

  John brushed a kiss along the top of her head.

  “I haven’t seen or heard of her since—until this evening. She left here right before I called you.”

  John held her at arm’s length. “What? How is that possible?”

  “She lives in Westbury now.” Maggie watched as surprise bled into anger on John’s face. “She works for Frank Haynes.”

  Chapter 12

  Loretta took the highway exit away from Westbury—away from her apartment—after her encounter with Maggie Martin. She needed time to think without her kids underfoot. Nothing had gone as planned. She never expected, in a million years, that Maggie knew about her and Paul.

  Traffic was sparse. She pressed her foot down hard, trying to get as much distance between herself and that humiliating scene as possible. Had that bastard Paul finally told his wife, or did she have her creep of a boss, Frank Haynes, to thank for this?

  Thirty miles south of Westbury, she pulled off the highway at a McDonald’s to use the restroom. Loretta stood at the sink and let the frigid water race over her hands as she surveyed herself in the mirror. The best things in her life were back in Westbury waiting for her. She wouldn’t let Paul Martin or Frank Haynes screw that up for her. To hell with both of them. She dried her stinging hands on the coarse paper towel and shoved it into the trash. She would go back to her children and get a new job—away from those creeps Frank Haynes and Chuck Delgado. She’d make a good life for herself and her kids.

  An hour later, Loretta collected her children from her neighbor and ushered them through her front door. “Who wants ice cream?” she asked, knowing it was a favorite she never allowed at bedtime. Three-year-old Nicole slumped against Loretta’s leg.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Loretta asked, smoothing the damp hair back from Nicole’s face. She bent down and placed her cheek against Nicole’s warm forehead. Nicole sniffed and Loretta fished a tissue out of her pocket and wiped Nicole’s nose. “I think someone’s catching a cold. You can have your ice cream in bed. In fact, why don’t we all have ice cream in bed?”

  ***

  Loretta trudged up the steps to Haynes Enterprises the next morning. She had intended to start looking online for a new job the prior evening, but Nicole was sick and needed her attention until the wee hours. Loretta was exhausted but determined to get out of Haynes Enterprises at the first opportunity.

  She locked the door behind her and hung up her coat. Mr. Haynes would be out of the office doing site visits all week. The work of Haynes Enterprises could wait; she would spend the day looking for a new job.

  By three forty-five that afternoon, Loretta was cross-eyed from staring at her computer screen and thoroughly discouraged. Wages weren’t as high in Westbury as they were in Scottsdale; she’d have to take a significant pay cut if she were to take any of the available openings. Frank Haynes was overpaying her. And she couldn’t afford to make less. It appeared she was stuck right where she was.

  Loretta pushed her chair back from her desk and stretched. She was headed to the coffeemaker when the call came in from the babysitter: Nicole was miserable and wanted her mother. Could she please pick her daughter up early? Loretta l
ogged off of her computer and locked up the office. It looked like she’d spend another night tending to a sick child. Would she ever get a break?

  Chapter 13

  Frank Haynes pulled his Mercedes sedan into his usual parking spot by the employee entrance of Forever Friends. As founder and principal benefactor of Westbury’s only no-kill animal shelter, he kept close tabs on the shelter’s finances. He was there to review the weekly payroll.

  He nodded to the talkative woman who sat at the reception desk and kept moving at a fast clip. Haynes was in no mood to engage in meaningless small talk. He settled himself behind the desk in the tiny administrative office and turned to the payroll records the bookkeeper left for him in a folder in the top drawer. He was surprised to see David Wheeler’s name still in the column labeled Intern: Court-ordered Community Service with a notation that he’d spent sixteen hours at the shelter during the past week. The kid had gotten in trouble at school by stealing equipment from the language lab. He’d agreed to let David perform his community service at Forever Friends as a way to make amends in some small way for his own part in the whole debacle that led to William Wheeler’s demise. It was at least a step in the right direction, and David had exceeded all expectations at Forever Friends.

  Haynes initialed the bottom of each page of the report and returned it to its folder.

  “Is David Wheeler still working here?” he asked the receptionist on his way out.

  “Yes,” she replied, pleased that Mr. Haynes was actually speaking to her. “In fact, he’s here now, working in the kennels,” she said, tilting her head to the doorway behind her.

  Haynes hesitated, then strode around her desk, through the door, and into the hallway flanked by kennels on either side. David Wheeler was at the far end, tools in hand, repairing a loose hinge on one of the cage doors.

  “Nice to see you, David,” Frank Haynes said, extending his hand.

  “Hi,” David replied, awkwardly taking the outstretched hand.

  “You’ve finished your community service, you know. You don’t have to come here anymore.”

 

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