Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series (7 page)

BOOK: Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series
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Chapter 18

True to his word, John collected enough names to
persuade the agility trainer to start a class in Westbury. The first class was
scheduled for the dog park on Saturday morning at eight o’clock.

Frank
Haynes groaned when his alarm went off at six thirty that Saturday. He pushed
himself out of bed and could see that Sally, his border collie mix, had no
interest in leaving her warm bed, either.

“Come
on, girl,” he cajoled. “This is for you. It’s gonna be fun.”

The
dog thumped her tail tentatively.

Haynes
clapped his hands, and she dutifully rolled out of her blanket and followed him
to the kitchen.

***

David and Dodger were already streaking around the
agility course when Frank Haynes and Sally arrived shortly before eight. Haynes
thought he recognized an assistant manager from one of his restaurants and
nodded at the woman, who beamed in return. He hoped he wouldn’t be called upon
to remember her name.

The
instructor quickly took charge, issuing orders in equal measure to the dogs and
their handlers. Haynes was pleased to see that David hung on her every word and
easily implemented her advice. He and Sally, however, were another matter. At
the halfway point in the lesson, the instructor divided the group in two. He
and Sally were consigned to the remedial group. Even so, it was invigorating to
be up and outside on a Saturday morning, instead of drinking his fifth cup of
coffee while pouring over the cash flow statements of Haynes Enterprises. And
Sally was having fun.

The
instructor reunited the groups to hand out homework for the next week. Frank
knew he wouldn’t look at the assignments. David, however, was studying the
paper she gave him and asking questions. He turned to Haynes. “This doesn’t
seem too hard. Dodger’s got most of this down already.”

Haynes
smiled. “I’m not sure Sally and I are cut out for this.”

“Don’t
be discouraged,” David replied. “This was only your first time.” He knelt to
pet Sally. “Border collies are naturals at this agility stuff. You just need to
practice with her.” He brought his head up and looked at Haynes. “Why don’t we
practice together, Mr. Haynes? I can help you with Sally—just to get you
two started.”

Haynes
opened his mouth to dismiss the idea, but something in the boy’s expression
stopped him. When was the last time anyone offered to help him with anything?
“All right,” Haynes said slowly, a smile stealing across his lips. “You’re on.
But you’ll need to start calling me Frank. Have you had breakfast?” he asked,
knowing that this boy could down another full meal even if he’d already eaten
at home. David shook his head. “Let’s head over to Pete’s Bistro. They have the
best pancakes in town.”

Chapter 19

Maggie walked David to the kitchen, where the kittens
were now holding court. Roman gently nosed them off the countertop. The kitten
with four white paws, however, had other ideas. He leapt back to the countertop
and streaked away with Roman barking and running along the floor in hot
pursuit. The kitten came to a screeching halt, boxing himself in between the
toaster and the coffeemaker, and Roman picked him up with his gentle mouth and
placed him on the tile floor where David scooped him up.

The
adventuresome kitten also liked to bait Eve, noiselessly sneaking up on her as
she lay snoring in her basket in the corner of the kitchen. The kitten would
pounce on her then bolt before Eve could uncoil herself from her cozy perch.
Eve chased him the first time, but now she gave all the kittens a wide berth.
She’d experienced enough whacks on her nose from their razor-sharp claws to
know that they didn’t fancy being chased through the house by a
slobbery-mouthed dog.

“He’s
almost old enough for you to take home,” Maggie said, handing David a bottle
while the kitten squirmed against his chest. “Have you named him yet?”

David
nodded as the kitten nursed greedily. “Namor,” he said, sliding his eyes to
hers.

“That’s
an unusual name. Sounds exotic—almost Egyptian.”

“It’s
Roman spelled backwards,” David said. “I thought it was fitting.”

Maggie
grinned. “Indeed it is. Very clever of you, David.”

She
picked up one of the other kittens and started giving her a bottle. “I was
going to keep the others, but I think Sam Torres is getting attached to that
one,” she said, indicating the smallest one of the litter. “When he started
coming here in the afternoons to feed them, you’d have thought he was going for
a root canal. I could tell he was annoyed and only agreed to help because Joan
put him up to it. But these little guys get under your skin, don’t they?” She
nuzzled the one she was holding.

“I
need to name the ones I’m keeping. Any suggestions?”

David
shrugged.

“So,
how did Dodger do in his agility contest?”

“We
started out pretty good, but it all fell apart fast. Frank—Mr. Haynes
told me to call him that—said that Forever Friends will sponsor us, and
he’s paying for us to take lessons.”

“Really?”
Maggie replied.

“Yep.
And the classes are great. Dodger and I are learning a lot. We’ll be so much
better at our next competition. Even Frank and Sally are taking lessons.”

“You
don’t say.” And this time Maggie couldn’t hide her astonishment. “I never
thought Frank Haynes would tear himself away from his business to pursue a
hobby.”

“She’s
a sweet thing, Sally is. And with training, she might be almost as good as Dodger.
I’m helping them practice between lessons.”

What
an odd couple these two must make,
Maggie thought.
David Wheeler and
Frank Haynes. But it appears the alliance is good for both of them.

After
they finished feeding the kittens, Maggie picked a large box off of the kitchen
counter. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Here,
let me take this for you, ma’am,” David said. “Where does it go?”

“Up
in the attic, I’m afraid. You don’t have to do that. I can manage.”

“Don’t
be ridiculous,” he replied, already halfway up the stairs to the second level.
“Just show me where to put it.”

Maggie
followed him up the first set of stairs, then led the way to the attic, making
sure that the doorstop was firmly in place before they ascended the final set
of steps. Sam had fixed the knob after that disastrous day just a few months
ago when she’d been locked in the drafty old attic, but she was still leery of
it.

“Wow!
Look at this place,” David said as he set the box where Maggie indicated.
“What’s in here? I bet there’s all sorts of cool stuff.”

“I
haven’t had a chance to get through it yet.” She turned to survey the attic.
“Just moving things around and cleaning it up will be a huge task. But I
agree—we’ll uncover some interesting things.” She pointed to the
secretary in the corner where she’d found a treasure trove of tarnished silver
during her fateful confinement. “That large cabinet—next to the
broken-down hat rack—is full of old sterling silver pieces. I’m dying to
bring all of them downstairs. They have to be cleaned and cataloged.”

“If
you could use some help, I’m good at odd jobs.”

“Really?”
Maggie said, turning to him. “Rosemont is full of odd jobs that need to be
done. Do you have time?”

“We’ve
got a three-day weekend next week. I could get started then, and I can work over
spring break.”

“You
and your mom won’t be going anywhere?”

David
shook his head.

“You’re
on! We’ll bring all of the silver downstairs and spread it out on the dining
room table.”

“I’ll
see you on Saturday. Frank and I always go to Pete’s for breakfast right after
our agility lesson.”

Would
wonders never cease?
Maggie thought.

“I’ll
come over as soon as we’re done.”

Chapter 20

David arrived midmorning on the gray and cheerless
Saturday. “This looks like the perfect movie set for a haunted attic,” Maggie
remarked as she turned on the lights. David took a step back. “I’m kidding.
There’re no ghosts at Rosemont,” and as she said it, she wasn’t so sure.

“Let’s
clear a path to that secretary in the corner,” she said, pointing with her
flashlight.

“That
cabinet thing?” David asked.

“Yes.
It’s called a secretary. Anyway—that’s where I found all of the silver.
There may be more up here, too. I didn’t find any downstairs in the butler’s
pantry, which is where it would have been stored back in the day.”

David
shrugged. It was clear he had no knowledge of such things.

“The
butler would have been responsible for keeping it polished and accounted for.
It would have been kept in a locked cabinet,” she continued. David moved boxes
and slid furniture aside as they made their way to the secretary.

The
key remained in the lock where Maggie had abandoned it, and she slowly opened
the doors. The sight still made her gasp.

“Where
do you want it?” David asked, reaching in to begin loading his arms with
pitchers.

“We’ll
take it all down to the dining room. I’ve cleaned off the table and padded it
with blankets so nothing scratches the wood.” Maggie swiftly reached over and
took two pitchers from him that he was holding by the handles with one hand,
allowing them to knock against each other. “I know this stuff isn’t breakable,
but it can dent and scratch. We have to be careful with it.”

“Are
we taking it all downstairs a piece at a time?” He wasn’t able to conceal his
incredulity.

“I
brought some empty boxes and towels up here. We can cushion each silver piece
in towels so it doesn’t rub against anything else. How would that be?”

David
nodded and they got busy, Maggie handing a piece of silver to David, David
placing it carefully in a box, and Maggie checking and eventually redoing everything
David did. Although it took all morning, they finally moved the contents of the
attic secretary to the dining room table.

Maggie
was thrilled with what they’d found so far: an ornate tea set, a chocolate pot,
a large flatware set bearing a family crest, and a dozen demitasse spoons, each
engraved with a sign of the zodiac, along with trays, pitchers, and serving
pieces of every description. Her fingers itched to pull out the silver polish
to start restoring them to their former luster.

“That’s
everything from the cabinet,” David said. “Do you want me to look in that stack
of boxes next to it, to see if there’s any more?”

Maggie
tore her attention away from the array on her dining room table. “That’d be a
good idea,” she answered. “Do you need me to go back up with you?”

“No.
I’ve got it. And I know to be careful. I’ll make sure we brought all the silver
down here, and I’ll organize stuff for when I come back on spring break. That’s
if you still want me,” he added hastily.

“Of
course I do,” Maggie assured him. “You’ve been extremely helpful, and I
appreciate how careful you’ve been with all of this.”

“It
looks pretty cool. Hard to believe anyone ever really used all of it.” He
paused, eying the table. “Glad I wasn’t a butler,” he continued, and Maggie
laughed. “Me, too. You go do your thing in the attic. I’ll start polishing all
this.”

Maggie
tuned to the classical music station on her radio—somehow, that seemed
fitting for the task at hand—while David returned to the attic. He found
two additional boxes of silver, which he ferried downstairs to Maggie. He spent
the rest of the afternoon in the attic moving the furniture to the area in
front of the windows and arranging boxes and trunks in neat rows along the far
wall. In the center, he created an area of items comprising the miscellany of
lives lived at Rosemont: dress forms and golf clubs, curtain rods and tennis
rackets, plant stands and drying racks. He never noticed, in the dim light of
the incandescent bulbs, the folder labeled
F.H./Rosemont
that slipped to
the floor and was trapped underneath an old steamer trunk.

***

Maggie had barely made a start on the items covering the
table and would soon be out of polish. She was heading upstairs with cookies
and a soda for David when she spotted John’s Suburban swinging to a stop by her
front door. She opened it as he stepped out of the car.

“Just
checking on my best girl. You’ve got some bad history with that attic. I wanted
to make sure we didn’t have a repeat of that unfortunate incident.”

Maggie
smiled and wrapped her arms around him. “Aren’t you the most thoughtful fiancé?
Everything’s fine here. You won’t believe what we’ve found up there!”

John
steeled himself for a lengthy discussion on vintage silver—a subject he
had no interest in, but one he knew she loved talking about. “I have a
suggestion,” he said, brushing a kiss along her hair. “Why don’t you call Judy
Young to come over after she closes up Celebrations? She’s an antiques buff.
I’m sure she’d be excited to hear all about it.”

“And
you wouldn’t, would you?” Maggie asked, rocking back to look at him closely.

“You’ve
got me there. It’s not one of my core interests.”

“Your
loss. Lots of fascinating stuff there. But now my lips are sealed. I need to
run out for more silver polish. I’ll swing by Celebrations and talk to Judy. I
may need her expertise.”

“Is
David still here?”

“Yes—working
like a maniac. He wouldn’t even stop for lunch. I was just taking him a snack.”

“Let
me see if he needs a hand,” John said. “And I think it’s time to let him take
his kitten home. I talked to his mother today, and she agreed.”

“Wait
till you hear the name he’s chosen for him,” Maggie said as they climbed the
stairs.

“What
do you think, Ms. Martin?” David asked, turning as he heard her footsteps on
the stairs.

“You’ve
done a marvelous job,” Maggie said, stepping into the attic.

“Hey,
David,” John said, extending his hand. “How would you like to take your kitten
home today? Your mother says it’s okay.”

David
beamed.

“Let’s
go get him. Maggie tells me you’ve picked out an unusual name?”

“Namor,”
David said proudly. He paused and watched John’s puzzled expression change to a
grin. “Very fitting. Roman would like that. Let’s go get Namor. I’ve got a cat
carrier for you and some food, litter, and a litter box—to get you started.”

“Thank
you, Dr. Allen,” David said as he rushed down the stairs to the laundry room.

Namor,
however, was not quite ready to leave Rosemont. He shot out of the laundry room
as soon as David opened the door and tore through the kitchen heading for the
stairs. John got a hand on him as he rounded the turn at the second-floor
landing, but Namor wriggled free and made a beeline for Maggie’s room, with Eve
in hot pursuit. Maggie snagged Eve’s collar and managed to drag her out of the
bedroom and close the door.

She
turned to John and David who were now standing in the hallway outside of her
room. “That sure happened fast,” she exclaimed.

“Sorry,
Ms. Martin. I didn’t expect him to be that fast.”

“At
least we know where he is. Let me put Eve outside before you go in there,” she
said, gesturing to her room.

“I’ll
get the carrier and some cat treats, in case he’s hidden himself away
somewhere,” John said.

Namor,
as feared, was nowhere to be found. The three of them looked high and low, in
every nook and cranny, with no sign of the kitten.

“He
couldn’t vanish into thin air,” Maggie sighed in exasperation.

“Let’s
get a flashlight,” John said.

David
wrapped his arms around himself and shifted from foot to foot. “You don’t think
he went up the chimney, do you?”

“No,”
John turned to the boy. “He’s here, and we’re going to find him. Cats have an
uncanny aptitude for hide-and-seek. Don’t worry—he’s not lost. In fact,
I’ll bet he’s enjoying himself immensely right now.”

David
straightened and nodded.

Maggie
retrieved the flashlight from the drawer in her nightstand and handed it to
John. “I’ll go downstairs and get two more.”

Twenty
minutes later, Maggie was on her hands and knees, shining the light under her
bed for the third time when she noticed a slight bulge in the fabric lining the
bottom of her box spring. “John,” she called. “Can you come and look at this?”
And as she said it, the bulge changed shape.

“Yep,”
she said, rocking back on her heels. “That silly cat has gotten himself into the
box spring!”

John
laughed as he took the flashlight and trained it under the bed. “You’re right.
There he is.”

David
let out a low whistle. “Here,” he said. “Let me see if he’ll come out to me.”
He lay on his back and reached a long arm under the bed until he touched the
lump. “It’s him all right. C’mon, Namor,” he coaxed. “Get out of there.”

“Is
he moving?” John asked.

“He’s
trying to. I think he’s caught on something.”

“We’ll
have to take the bed apart,” Maggie said, dismantling the mound of decorative
pillows.

David
and John slid the mattress to the floor. Namor began caterwauling as they
shifted the box spring off the bed frame.

“At
least we know his lungs are good,” John observed.

Namor
began thrashing, his sharp claws tearing the batting that sealed the underside
of the box spring.

“Let’s
cut him out before he does any more damage to himself or my bed,” Maggie said,
inserting a pair of scissors near the spot where Namor flailed and swiftly cut
the fabric.

Namor
shot out of the opening and David tackled him as he attempted to streak past.

“You
rascal,” David said, holding him tight. He placed Namor into the cat carrier
and closed it securely. “Sorry about that, Ms. Martin.”

“You’ve
got a cat with quite a personality,” John observed, and they all nodded in
agreement.

***

The bell jingled as Maggie walked through the door of
Celebrations shortly before closing time. Judy Young was at a table near the
back, mediating a dispute over wedding invitations between a bride-to-be and
her mother. She smiled at Maggie over her half-moon glasses.

“I
think you’ve narrowed it down to these two?” she asked, gathering up two
samples. “Why don’t I let you take them home tonight to think about it? Can you
have them back to me by noon on Monday? Good. Then it’s settled.” She rose and
the two women followed suit.

“Either
one will make a perfect choice,” she said as she ushered them out the door.

Maggie
burst out laughing as Judy turned to her. “Look who’s the diplomat. Long day?”

Judy
stretched. “Long and slow. Other than a handful of people buying birthday cards,
it’s been dead. And those two have been here for over four hours. They looked
at every invitation in every book. They don’t have the same taste or vision for
this wedding, and neither of them can make a decision to save their life. God
knows how they’re going to plan a wedding.” She patted Maggie’s arm. “But you
didn’t come here to listen to me complain. What are you looking for?”

“Advice,
really,” Maggie said.

Judy
arched her brow.

“Remember
when I got locked in my attic? Did I tell you I found an old secretary full of
vintage silver?”

Judy’s
head snapped up. “I remember you getting locked in. But you never mentioned
vintage silver!”

“I’ve
had it all moved downstairs, and I’ve started polishing it. In fact, I ran out
of silver polish and just bought more. You should see this
stuff—incredible!”

Judy’s
breathing quickened.

“John
said to call you. That you’re the local expert.”

“He’s
right!” Judy said, flipping the Open sign on her door to Closed. “Let’s get out
of here. My day is suddenly looking up!”

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