Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series

by Barbara Hinske

  David shrugged. Haynes regarded the boy thoughtfully.

  “You’ve done a wonderful job for us. Taken the initiative to clean things up and make repairs. And you’re great with the animals. Everyone on staff says so.”

  David flushed and shifted the screwdriver he was holding from hand to hand. “Everybody is really nice to me here. And I love the animals.”

  “We can’t continue to let you come here as a volunteer,” Haynes stated firmly. David inhaled sharply. “We’ll need to put you on the payroll,” Haynes continued and was gratified to see David smile. “Effective immediately. I’ll take care of it. Would you like that?”

  The boy nodded.

  “So, now that that’s settled, tell me about the dog you adopted. The mutt with only one eye? How’s he getting along?”

  David brightened. Dodger was fine—the best dog ever—smart as all get out—his mother even liked him—and he’d trained him to run an agility course like nobody’s business. Haynes abandoned whatever errand was next on his agenda and relaxed against the wall, encouraging David to fill in all the details. When David paused, Haynes interjected, “I’d like to see Dodger on an agility course. It looks like a lot of fun. Can I come watch sometime?”

  “Gosh, yes,” David replied, unable to conceal his surprise. “That would be really cool. No one’s come to watch us—not even my mom. We use the course at the dog park. Do you know it?” Haynes nodded. “People say they’ve never seen anything like him,” David concluded proudly.

  “Then I really have to see Dodger in action. When will you be there again?”

  “If it doesn’t rain or snow, we’ll be there tomorrow after school.”

  Haynes consulted the calendar on his phone and nodded. “I’ll see you then.”

  Chapter 14

  Maggie checked the clock on her dashboard as she pulled into her parking spot at Town Hall and saw that she was late again. She hadn’t been on time for anything since the kittens moved into Rosemont. She was meeting with Police Chief Andy Thomas and Special Counsel Alex Scanlon—two of the most punctual people on the planet. Maggie sighed and hurried across the icy parking lot to the back entrance.

  She heard their raised voices when she stepped off the elevator. Maggie rushed to the reception area outside of the office bearing the plaque that read “Hon. Mayor Margaret Martin.” She still got chills every time she saw it. Being elected mayor of Westbury still seemed like a dream. And on days like today, a nightmare.

  “Gentlemen,” she said. “Let’s not carry on like this. I can hear you all the way down the hall.”

  Alex opened his mouth to protest, and she shot him a reproachful look. She unlocked her office and indicated the chairs opposite her desk. “I’m sorry I was delayed this morning,” she said. “I need a cup of coffee before we begin. Can I get either of you anything?” Both men declined. “I’ll be right back. Whatever you need to discuss can wait a few minutes.”

  Maggie loitered in the break room while a new pot of coffee finished brewing. The police chief and Alex normally saw eye to eye on things. She wondered what their disagreement was about. She filled her cup and returned to her office.

  “So, good morning, again.” The two men sat rigidly in their chairs, studiously avoiding eye contact with one another. “It’s obvious we have a problem. Chief Thomas, I’d like to hear from you, first.”

  “Alex is interfering with our investigation, ma’am,” he replied.

  “From where I sit, you don’t have an investigation,” Alex said. “There’s nothing to interfere with.”

  Maggie interceded. “Which investigation are you talking about?”

  “The simultaneous fires at my law office and my home,” Alex said. “They occurred more than a year ago, and we’re still no closer to an arrest. The insurance company investigator concluded they were both arson, but Chief Thomas’ department hasn’t even gotten that far.”

  Chief Thomas spread his hands and shrugged. “We don’t have the manpower to investigate everything right now. The fraud and embezzlement from the town and the pension fund is our top priority.”

  Alex snorted. “And how are those investigations coming along? I don’t see you making any progress there, either.”

  “If you’d get me those documents from the offshore banks, I’d have something to work with. Haven’t they complied with your subpoenas? Why is it taking so long?” the chief retorted.

  Maggie leaned across her desk. “That’s enough. We don’t need to throw rocks at each other. There are enough people on the outside doing that as it is.” She sat back in her chair and addressed the chief of police.

  “I agree with Alex—we need to catch the people who set those fires. If the insurance company has determined it’s arson, what’s the hold up?”

  “Their evidence isn’t enough to make an arrest. We need proof that will stand up in a criminal court. Special Counsel Scanlon, here, understands that better than anyone.”

  Alex glanced away.

  “We believe the fires were set by professionals. Probably mob connected. We’ve uncovered nothing to tie this to anybody.”

  “That’s the part that frustrates me the most,” Alex interjected.

  “I understand, Alex. I really do. It frustrates me, too. And I think your car crash after the candidate’s debate was no accident, either. Same deal—a clean crime scene, with no evidence to go on,” the chief concluded.

  “What are you suggesting we do, Alex?” Maggie said, turning to him.

  “I’d like to have the team of detectives report directly to me. Maybe with constant supervision, they’ll be more motivated.”

  “You think I’m not doing my job?” the chief began before Maggie cut him off.

  “That’s ridiculous, Alex, and you know it. You can’t investigate crimes where you’re the victim.”

  “I’ve done some research on that point of law, actually …” he began.

  “Case closed, Alex. My answer is no. Chief Thomas has my complete confidence. Our resources are stretched to the max, and he’s doing an admirable job under the circumstances.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Chief Thomas replied and sank back into his chair.

  “And he’s right, Alex. He needs those records from the offshore banks. Quit digging around in matters that don’t concern you and work on the things you can do something about.”

  Alex’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry I wasted all of our time,” he spat and stalked out of the room.

  “That didn’t go as planned, did it, Chief? Instead of calming him down, I’ve thrown gasoline on the fire.”

  “He’s been awfully touchy lately,” Chief Thomas replied.

  “And who can blame him? He and his partner have been the victims of serious—almost fatal—crimes, and no one is even under suspicion? I’d be at your throat, too.”

  The chief winced at the rebuke.

  “Don’t use the fraud investigation as an excuse, either. If you’re so undermanned, we can bring in the feds.”

  “We’ve been over that before. If we call in the feds we’ll lose control over the case. We have ideas about who’s responsible. We just don’t have solid evidence yet.”

  Maggie raised her brows. “When were you going to tell me?”

  Chief Thomas looked away.

  “Don’t you think you can trust me? I wasn’t living here when the fraud and embezzlement took place. And I can keep a secret. Forensic accountants are ethically bound to keep their clients’ confidences.” She caught his eye and held his gaze.

  He slowly nodded. “Okay. We’ve uncovered evidence linking Chuck Delgado to two men with arson priors who we know were in the area the morning of the fires.”

  “Delgado’s involvement isn’t terribly surprising. He’s always struck me as being a sleazy character. So what’s the next step?”

  “Delgado has been rumored to be affiliated with one of the Chicago mobs for years. He’s good at keeping his hands clean, and I think his brother, Ron—the smar
ter of the two of them—helps with that. I’m not sure if Ron is on the inside or not.” He rose and began pacing in front of her desk. “I don’t want to nail two cheap thugs from Chicago. They’re expendable to the organization. Someone else will take their place before the jail cell shuts behind them. I want to nail Chuck Delgado. He’s on the town council, for heaven’s sake. We need to clean the corruption out of Westbury’s government.”

  “I agree with you wholeheartedly,” Maggie replied.

  “I need more time to make my case. I’m betting it’s all tied together. The people behind the fires and Alex’s accident are behind the fraud and embezzlement.”

  “What’s your next step?”

  “I’m tapping our network of informants. It’s slow, tedious work with unreliable results. We need to carefully vet all of the tips we receive. Most of them turn out to be false. But they’re all we’ve got at the moment. They’ll eventually produce the results we want.”

  Maggie nodded slowly. She reached for the handle of her bottom desk drawer, where she kept Frank Haynes’ missing cell phone. Should she turn it over to the chief? Was that fair to Frank? She paused. “What about other councilmembers? Anything on any of them? Frank Haynes is pretty chummy with Delgado. They usually vote the same way on issues.”

  Chief Thomas shook his head. “Nothing on anyone else. But we’re keeping our eyes peeled.”

  Maggie released the handle and rose from her chair. “How much longer do you think you’ll need?” She crossed the room to where he was standing and walked him to the door.

  “Impossible to predict. This case could break wide open at any time.”

  “Let’s hope that it does,” Maggie said, fixing him with a stern look as he exited her office.

  Maggie shut the door behind him and slumped into her chair. She had hoped to bridge the growing gap between Alex and the chief, but the meeting had only made matters worse. She glanced at her bottom desk drawer. Since Frank Haynes wasn’t a suspect, she really should give his cell phone back to him. If she were honest with herself, she hadn’t done so already because she wanted to confirm that Don Upton and Frank had conspired to convince her to resign her position as mayor. They had almost succeeded, and the phone might offer proof of their complicity. Still, the prospect of snooping through his phone was distasteful to her. How would she feel if the shoe were on the other foot? She would be livid—would feel violated—if a colleague went through her phone.

  Maggie pulled it out of her drawer and pressed the on button. The battery life was at twenty percent. She had to be certain. She’d snoop through his phone until the battery gave out.

  Maggie opened the contact list and began scrolling; there was a listing for Lyndon Upton. He and Frank had worked together on the town’s budget, so that wasn’t surprising. She checked his text messages. There was nothing other than the fateful New Year’s Eve message from Upton that she and John had already seen. She finally looked at his list of recent calls. There were a dozen calls between the two men during December. They had been plotting against her, she was certain of it. But conspiring to remove a political opponent from office was the nature of politics. More importantly, it wasn’t evidence of criminal activity.

  She turned off the phone and replaced it in her drawer. She’d done what she’d wanted to do and uncovered nothing that she didn’t already know. She needed to get the phone back to him anonymously, but in such a way that he would wonder if she knew about his duplicity. Frank Haynes should sweat over this. A smile curled around her lips; she had the perfect plan.

  Chapter 15

  Frank Haynes turned the collar of his cashmere coat up against the biting wind and stamped his feet. Maybe David had decided the afternoon was too cold to bring Dodger to the agility course. Haynes checked his watch. They should be here by now. He turned and was heading to his car when he heard David call his name and an enthusiastic dog of medium build and indiscriminate origin flashed in front of him, then circled back and stood, tail wagging expectantly.

  Haynes stooped to greet the exuberant canine. “He’s the picture of health,” Haynes said to David as he approached. “I would never have recognized him as that poor creature from the shelter. You’ve done wonders for him.”

  David shrugged, but Haynes knew that he was pleased by the compliment.

  “Let me show you what he can do,” David said. “Come on, Dodger!” He led the dog to the start of the agility course, commanded him to sit, and then released him to start. Haynes had seen dogs running agility courses on television, but he’d never seen anything like the scene playing out before him. Dodger flew around the course—turning, jumping, and leaping—with flawless grace and complete abandon. When he was done, he raced into the open arms of his master, who fell onto his back and wrestled with the squirming, licking dynamo that was Dodger.

  Frank Haynes opened his mouth to congratulate David but stopped himself, sure that his voice would crack. David Wheeler was so like Frank had been at that age. Haynes couldn’t help but wonder if things wouldn’t have gone very differently in his own life if he had known about agility courses when he was David’s age.

  “Most impressive!” he called as he walked over to the pair. “Did you train him to do that?”

  “A little. He’s a natural. Everybody says so. It’s so cold; I don’t think any of the other regulars will be out today. But one guy has a dog that’s won national awards, and Dodger beats his dog every time. He thinks I should enter Dodger in competitions.”

  “Why don’t you? I bet it’d be a lot of fun. Are there any around here?’

  “There’s one in Westbury next month. The rest are out of town.”

  “So will you compete in the one here?”

  “It costs to enter,” David said. “We don’t have the money.” David glanced at Haynes. “I know everyone thinks my dad stole all that money from the town, but he didn’t. We’re broke. I’m saving my pay from Forever Friends for college.”

  Haynes paused and fixed David with his gaze. He chose his words carefully. “I’ll spot you the entrance fees. If you win a monetary price, you’ll need to repay me, but if Dodger doesn’t win, we’ll wipe the slate clean. Does that sound fair?”

  David nodded vigorously. “Thanks, Mr. Haynes. And don’t worry—Dodger will win! You’ll get your money back.”

  Haynes smiled and put his arm around the boy and squeezed his shoulder. “Good. And if he wins here in Westbury, we’ll enter him in other competitions. Same deal.”

  “Come on, Dodger. We need to practice,” David cried as he raced back to the course with Dodger in hot pursuit. David pointed to the first obstacle, and Dodger returned to the course for round two.

  Frank Haynes made his way to his car, turning down the collar of his coat and unfastening the top button. The afternoon suddenly seemed warmer.

  Chapter 16

  Maggie groped for her cell phone to turn off the alarm she set for the kittens’ midnight feedings. She shoved her feet into the slippers waiting at the side of her bed, poked her arms through the sleeves of her bathrobe, and trudged down the stairs alone. Eve had long since abandoned her on these late-night treks to the laundry room.

  Maggie prepared the kitten formula and carefully squeezed into the room. She didn’t fancy a late-night romp through Rosemont, chasing after them—especially the one with four white paws. He was definitely the ringleader of any mischief.

  His was the first head to pop out of the blanket-lined box where they slept. She picked him up and began feeding him as he nestled close to her chest. When he was done, she lowered him to the box, but he squirmed free and attempted to jump to the top of the stack of neatly folded towels on the chair by the door. He fell short of his mark, but his claws caught on a towel and he brought the entire stack tumbling to the floor. Maggie sighed. She simply didn’t have the energy to do anything about it tonight. The fatigue of these round-the-clock feedings was catching up to her, and she still had the rest to feed.

  Maggie couldn
’t get away from Town Hall in the middle of the afternoon. During the day, she had help. Sam Torres succumbed to the prodding from his wife and reluctantly agreed to take the midafternoon feedings. He stopped in on his way to one of the handyman jobs that occupied his afternoons after he finished his shift in the school’s maintenance department. David Wheeler came every morning before school to feed them, too. What was the saying about raising children? It takes a whole village? Well … the same holds true for raising motherless kittens, Maggie thought.

  ***

  The next morning with coffee in hand, Maggie returned to the laundry room to help David. “John says you’re quite good with animals,” she observed as she picked up the towels the kitten had pulled off the chair the night before.

  David shrugged, but she could tell he was pleased. “He told me you’re working at Forever Friends, too. How’s your dog?”

  “He’s amazing,” David enthused. “You should see him. I’ve been training him on the agility course at the dog park. Everybody says he’s the best they’ve ever seen.”

  “Is that right?” said Maggie, settling against the dryer. “I’ve only seen it on television, but it looks like the dogs are having tremendous fun.”

  “They are,” David continued. “I’m going to enter Dodger in the agility contest at the old armory in a couple of weeks.”

  “That’s an excellent idea.”

  “Mr. Haynes is giving me the money to enter Dodger in the competition. If I win, I’ll pay him back, but if not, he says that’s okay by him.”

  Maggie paused, digesting this news. Just when she had Frank Haynes firmly painted with a black brush, he went and did something genuinely nice.

  “You’d better be on your way to school, and I need to head to work. John told me that you’d like to take one of the kittens when they’re old enough to be separated. Have you decided which one?”

  “This one here, with the four white feet.”

  Maggie nodded. She had a feeling that the most adventurous one would be a good fit for David.