Mike uncorked the bottles, and Marc and Susan passed the glasses to the assembled workers. “To another successful Rosemont Easter carnival, to our beloved Westbury and our esteemed Mayor Martin,” Alex declared. Maggie flushed as the group raised their glasses to a chorus of “Here, here.”
It wasn’t until she laid her exhausted head on her pillow at midnight that she remembered the strange encounter with Frank Haynes. She’d tell John about it the next day at brunch, she thought as sleep overtook her.
***
Easter was a lazy day at Rosemont. Maggie had invited Alex and Marc, the Torreses, Judy Young, the Holmes, the Knudsens, and the Vaughns to drop by in the afternoon. The picture-perfect weather of the preceding week was replaced by a cold front bringing with it a misty drizzle. Even the girls were still worn out from the day before and were content to lay on the rug and listen to the adults chat while Marc played the piano in the conservatory.
The Torreses were the last to leave in the late afternoon. Amy declared that it was time for them to pack up and get ready for their flight in the morning. Susan offered to pick up a pizza from Tomascino’s for dinner. Alex and Marc followed her to the door. “The next time we’ll see you, it’ll be at the wedding,” Alex said. “You’d better bring that brother of mine with you. I know he’s studying for his medical boards, but enough’s enough.”
Susan smiled. “You can be sure of it. I called him last night to tell him how much fun he missed. He really is sorry that he couldn’t make it.”
“I know,” Alex replied. “Give him my best. Tell him I’m proud of him.”
Maggie leaned into John. “There’s something I’ve been dying to tell you, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it is.”
John laughed. “These last few days would do that to anybody. You know where to find me when you remember. I’m going to head home now. I’ve got an early surgery in the morning.”
“Aren’t you going to stay for dinner? Don’t you want to say goodbye to the kids?”
“I’ve been eating all afternoon, if you hadn’t noticed, and I’ve already said goodbye. You should have a few minutes alone with them.”
Maggie reached up and kissed him firmly on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, mister,” she said with a gleam in her eye.
Chapter 48
Alex Scanlon and the mayor were on their way. Forest Smith opened another energy drink and returned to the “war room” where the boxes of documents from the offshore banks lined the walls. The meeting with the mayor was to take place in secret, and the paralegals working on the case were exhausted and relieved when he told them that they could go home an hour ago.
Forest peered into the hallway, then locked the door from the inside. It was time to go through the culled documents he had stashed at the back of a box labeled Completed/Nothing.
He carefully loosened the tape holding the box shut and drew out a sheaf of documents an inch thick. He brought them to the workstation at the end of the room, switched on the desk lamp, and examined each document carefully. Satisfied that he had everything he needed, he settled in to wait.
Forest roused himself from his chair when he heard footsteps in the hallway. He checked his watch. It was ten fifteen. Alex knocked softly and called his name.
Forest opened the door, then locked it after Alex and the mayor entered the room. Alex made the introduction.
“Alex’s told me you’ve done an incredibly thorough job of dissecting these documents. I’ve been involved in a number of large fraud cases in my former career as a forensic accountant. Believe me, I know how tedious and taxing that task is.”
“Thank you, Mayor Martin,” Forest replied.
“Call me Maggie, please. Alex said you’ve got documents you want me to see?”
Forest nodded. “Over here,” he said, leading her to the papers laid out for her review.
“We haven’t found much,” Alex interjected. “But what we have implicates Chuck Delgado and, of course, William Wheeler.”
“That’s not a surprise,” Maggie said. “We knew about Wheeler, and we all think Delgado is a crook. But I would have expected others to be involved. What about Ron Delgado? Or Frank Haynes?”
“Nothing.” Alex shook his head. “That’s why we wanted you to look at what we’ve found. As a forensic accountant, you may be able to see things we’ve overlooked.”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t know about that, but I’d like to see what you’ve got.” She took a seat and pulled a stack of papers toward her.
An hour and forty-five minutes later, she leaned back in her chair and summoned the two men to look at a series of documents she had spread out before her.
“The paper trails established by these documents don’t add up. The amounts on the transfers don’t make sense. I’ll need more time to go through the rest of these documents, and they’ll have to be examined under magnification, but I’m convinced that some of these have been altered and redacted,” she said. “Others have been created for the purpose of implicating Delgado. Only about a third of them look legitimate.”
Alex nodded slowly and raked his fingers through his hair. “That’s what we were afraid of. Somebody wants us to nail Delgado. Wheeler’s dead. I want Chuck Delgado, but I also want whoever is setting him up.” He turned to Maggie. “How difficult will it be confirm your suspicions? Will you have to go through all of this?” He swept his arm around the room.
Maggie nodded. “I’m afraid so. You know how high the standard of proof is for criminal convictions. It will take months of work. And that’s if I tackled the project full time. Which I can’t do.”
Alex cursed. “We can’t let them get away with this. We’ll just have to work harder. The paralegals are really talented; maybe you can work with them—show them what to look for? Supervise their efforts. They can go through all of this again.”
“Or maybe one of the bad guys will do something stupid and show their hand? Give us the evidence we need,” Forest said.
Both of them turned to him, and he laid out his plan.
***
Forest Smith shivered in his dark car while he waited for Chuck Delgado to arrive for their rendezvous. He checked the clock on the dashboard. Delgado was fifteen minutes late. Smith was about to start his engine when he saw a set of headlights turn the corner and slowly approach. Delgado parked and waddled to the passenger side of Smith’s car. He pressed the unlock button, and Delgado slid into the seat beside him.
“Whatcha got for me?” he asked.
“A room full of evidence, all pointing to William Wheeler.”
“That’s good. Just what we expected. Wheeler acted alone,” Delgado began.
Smith raised his hand. “Save it,” he said. “That’s all there is now. We’ve been through everything. I found evidence that implicated you.” He paused and turned to Delgado, taking malicious pleasure in watching the color drain from Delgado’s florid complexion.
Delgado licked his lips, “Like what?”
“Papers signed by you to open bank accounts. Wire transfer forms signed by you. There isn’t much—just a handful of items—but enough to put you away.”
Delgado took a well-used handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. “You find anything on anybody else?” he asked.
“Nope. Just William Wheeler and you.”
“Nothing on Frank Haynes?”
“Nothing.”
Delgado leaned back in his seat. “That bastard,” he mumbled. He turned to Forest Smith. “You need to get anything with my name on it outta there, you understand? Do that, and there’ll be a nice payday for you. Money or pills. You choose.”
“I don’t want either one.” He reached into the backseat and picked up the plain brown envelope containing the incriminating documents and handed it to Delgado. “Here you are. They’re all there.”
Delgado opened the envelope and began examining the contents. “Shit,” he said. “This is my signature, but I don’t remember s
igning these. Somebody must have slipped them in with something else I was signing.”
“Or maybe you’re drunk so often that you don’t know what you’re signing,” Smith said.
“What the—who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that? You work for us now, remember? I own you, you rat-bastard lawyer.”
“Not anymore, you don’t. Our association is now done.”
“What’re you talking about? We’re done when I say we’re done.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Delgado. That envelope contains copies. The originals are in my safe deposit box. And I’ve left letters detailing all of this if anything happens to me.”
He reached across Delgado and opened the passenger door.
“I felt it prudent to insure my personal safety. If you make any further move to contact me, I’ll make sure that evidence finds its way into Alex Scanlon’s hands. And you’ll be spending a lot of time in William Wheeler’s old jail cell.”
“You think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you? We control all of the oxy in the tri-state region. Where ya gonna go for your fix now? None of my boys will sell to you.”
“I’m doing quite well in my twelve-step program, thank you for asking. Now get the hell out of my car,” he said, giving Delgado a shove.
Delgado stumbled and sprawled on the frozen ground. Forest Smith turned on his engine and spun away, pelting Delgado with a spray of gravel. He punched the familiar number into his speed dial when he was a mile down the highway.
“Mission accomplished. He bought it hook, line, and sinker.”
“Well done,” Alex replied. “Do you think he’s worried?”
“Big time. Now all we have to do is wait for him to do something stupid.”
“Watch your back, okay? Don’t take any chances. Letting him think that incriminating evidence will come out if something happens to you may not protect you. Don’t forget, somebody out there wants Delgado to go down for this. They might be more than happy to orchestrate your death so the evidence comes out.”
“Understood,” Smith said, glancing nervously in his rearview mirror.
Chapter 49
Maggie slid into the booth next to John Allen. “Stuart’s Steakhouse is pretty fancy for a Monday night, isn’t it?”
“I’m considering this a long-overdue date night. We haven’t had a moment alone since before the kids came to visit.”
Maggie leaned into him and sighed. “You’re such a romantic. I’m a lucky gal.”
John kissed the top of her head. “I’m assuming they all got home safe and sound. No delayed planes or missed connections?”
Maggie nodded. “Mike texted when they landed, thanking me and telling me what a good time they had. They’re excited for the wedding.” She turned to him. “Did you know that the girls made fast friends with another little girl at the carnival? They’re planning a sleepover at Rosemont when they’re back in June.”
“Won’t you be too busy with the wedding?”
“It’ll be fine,” Maggie relaxed into his arm resting along the back of the booth. “By that time, everything that needs to get done had better be done.”
The waiter approached their table. “I don’t want to interrupt. Do you need a few minutes?” They shook their heads and placed their usual orders.
“So where do we stand on the wedding?” John asked. “I know you girls worked on it like mad last week.”
“It’s all done—as long as the dresses and invitations come in on time. You’ve got your tux, right?”
“Altered and hanging in my closet. Do you want to see it?”
Maggie shook her head. “If you can’t see my dress before the wedding, I shouldn’t see your tux.”
The waiter placed their entrees on the table, and they began to eat in companionable silence. When Maggie was almost done with her filet, she cut the remaining chunk in half and motioned to the waiter. “May I get a doggie bag for these, please?” she asked.
John looked at her askance. “I hope I’m the doggie that you’re thinking of. That’s at least ten dollars’ worth of steak.”
“You know that these are for Eve and Roman. They’re such good doggies. They deserve a treat.”
“You know that people food isn’t good for them. And that I’m the local veterinarian? It won’t be good for business if my own dogs get sick from poor nutrition,” he admonished.
Maggie rolled her eyes.
“And where would my sweetheart like to go for our honeymoon? Can you still get away for two weeks, like we talked about?”
“I’m taking two weeks, come hell or high water,” Maggie replied firmly. “As for where—I haven’t given it any thought.”
“The beach? The mountains? City or country? Domestic or abroad?”
Maggie began to rub her temples with her fingertips. “Ahhhhh … I don’t think I can cope with planning one more thing; this wedding is already bigger than what I wanted. All I know is that I want to be with you and I want us to do something relaxing—something very different from our daily lives here. I need to immerse myself in a new environment.”
John searched the face of the woman he cherished. “Why don’t I plan the whole thing? I’ll tell you what I’ve got in mind and you can approve or veto, but I’ll do all the work. Seems only fair since you’ve taken on the wedding.”
Maggie turned to him, her eyes bright. “I’d love that. But don’t tell me a thing about it. Let it be a wonderful surprise—like our first date at The Mill. Remember how well that turned out?”
A smile spread across John’s face. “If you really mean it, I’d love to. I’ve got something in mind already.”
“Don’t give me any hints. No matter how much I beg.”
John laughed. “You’ve got it. My lips are sealed. But what about your wardrobe? I’ll have to tell you what to pack.”
Maggie shook her head. “Nope. Not even that. Susan will be here the week before the wedding. You can tell her, and she can pack for me.”
“I hope I don’t disappoint you,” John said seriously.
“You never could,” Maggie assured him.
“Let’s get the check and head back to Rosemont,” John replied huskily.
***
The month of May was filled with fittings, consultations, and endless emails and phone calls. If Maggie were honest, she spent at least half of her workday attending to the details of her wedding. Despite the fact that the first batch of invitations arrived with a typo, Judy Young was able to expedite the corrected order and Maggie deposited them in the mail only a few days later than planned. Everyone on the guest list already had the date circled on their calendars, anyway. The RSVPs were streaming in, and the latest count showed that they could expect two hundred and eighty guests.
***
Frank Haynes had received his invitation at his home address, the address he called home because someone (almost certainly Paul Martin) had destroyed the evidence that would have assured that he—Frank Haynes—inherited Rosemont. He’d be damned if he’d attend and celebrate Maggie’s good fortune at his expense.
Haynes was tossing the invitation in the trash when an idea occurred to him. He smiled broadly. What a delicious idea.
He returned the invitation to its envelope and placed it carefully inside his briefcase. He’d speak to Loretta in the morning.
***
Loretta Nash looked up as Frank Haynes approached her desk. She relaxed. He was smiling. Maybe she wasn’t in trouble.
“When you were interviewing for this job, you mentioned that you knew about Rosemont.”
Loretta eyed him warily and nodded.
“As you may have heard, Mayor Martin and John Allen are getting married there in June. I received my invitation this morning,” he said, pulling the invitation from its envelope, “and was wondering if you’d like to join me.”
Loretta stared at him.
“Not as a date, mind you. Nothing of the sort. We still have a professional relationship to main
tain.” He searched her face as he said the next words. “Since your friend Paul owned Rosemont, I thought you’d be curious about it. This is your chance to see it up close.”
Loretta’s head was spinning. What in the hell was Frank Haynes doing? Had he figured out about her and Paul, or was he really trying to be nice? One thing was sure, she wasn’t going anywhere near Maggie Martin’s Rosemont wedding.
“I can’t take time away from my kids on a Saturday. Sean’s in softball, and we have a game,” she lied. “Thank you for asking me, but I won’t be able to make it.”
Haynes stood the open invitation on her desk. “I’ve already RSVP’d for two, so if you change your mind, let me know. It’ll be something that people around here will talk about for the rest of their lives. You’d be sorry you missed it.”
Chapter 50
Loretta tried to ignore the invitation that had been sitting on her desk for weeks, but found herself picking it up and reading the engraving over and over again—the wedding was a week from Saturday. If things had turned out differently, maybe she and Paul Martin would have gotten married at Rosemont. She was daydreaming about her own Rosemont wedding when the shrill ring of the phone on her desk brought her back to reality.
“Loretta,” came the school nurse’s brisk voice. “Nicole’s real bad again. I’m so sorry, honey, but I think she needs to go back to the hospital. Now.”
Loretta was already picking up her purse. “I’m on my way. I’ll call the doctor from my car.”
Loretta threw Frank Haynes’ office door open. “The school just called. I have to get Nicole to the hospital.” She turned on her heel and ran to the door. She never heard Frank Haynes tell her to take whatever time she needed and to let him know if he could help.
***
Loretta and Nicole walked through the doors of the emergency room of Mercy Hospital and were admitted directly to a room. One of the advantages of being well known to the hospital staff, Loretta thought sadly. A nurse took Nicole’s vital signs and drew three vials of blood. Her doctor entered the room less than thirty minutes later, accompanied by a team of pediatricians and nephrologists that he said would be performing a thorough review of Nicole’s condition. Loretta nodded, as fear settled its vice-like grip on her heart. Why couldn’t they figure out how to help her daughter?
Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series Page 20
