Uncovering Secrets: The Third Novel in the Rosemont Series (9 page)

Chapter 23

Eve began barking furiously, and Maggie was halfway to
the front door before she heard the knock. She glanced at the grandfather clock
in the entryway and couldn’t believe it was almost three o’clock. Her oldest
and dearest friends in Westbury, Sam and Joan Torres, stamped their feet
against the cold.

“Is
this a good time? You look like you’re in the middle of something,” Joan said,
eyeing her tarnished apron.

“Perfect
time,” Maggie replied brightly, avoiding the implied question. “The kittens are
in the laundry room. Follow me.”

She
turned and led the way past the closed dining room door, through the kitchen,
and paused outside the laundry room. “It’s quiet in there, so they must be
asleep. As soon as I open this door, they’ll wake up and start to scatter.
They’ve gotten so much faster than the last time you saw them, Sam” Maggie
said. “Get in there as fast as you can.”

Sam
cracked the door, and he and Joan slipped through. As predicted, the laundry
room erupted into a scene of flying fur and plaintive meowing.

Maggie
eased into the room behind them. “I think you’ve got a favorite, don’t you,
Sam?”

Sam
started to protest and Joan laughed. “He’s got a favorite, all right. Don’t try
to fool us, Sam Torres,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “He’s told me all
about the one with gray stripes and black hind feet. That one, I think.” She
pointed to a kitten as it bounded over to Sam.

Sam
scooped him up and cradled him against his chest. Both women laughed.
“Okay—I admit to being partial to this guy. But you can pick whichever
one you want, sweetheart,” he said, turning to Joan. Sam handed her the kitten,
and he nuzzled Joan’s neck, coming to rest under her chin. Joan beamed.

“It
looks like this one’s smart enough to know he’ll find the perfect home with
both of you,” Maggie said.

“Sweetheart?”
Sam asked, hopefully.

“He’s
the one,” Joan said. “We’ve got a carrier in the car. Let’s get him home. We
need to change and head over to Fairview Terraces. We’re teaching lessons at
four and dancing starts at five. I thought you and John were going to join us.
With a little practice, you’d both be good. And it’s tons of fun,” Joan turned
to Maggie as Sam slipped out the door to retrieve the carrier.

“We
will,” Maggie hastily assured her. “It’s just been too hectic.”

“You’re
not working twenty-four hours a day, are you? All work and no play, you know.”

“It’s
not that,” Maggie replied. “Caring for these kittens has eaten up all of our
free time. Once they’re a bit older, we’ll have time to attend.”

“I’m
holding you to it,” Joan said as Sam returned with the carrier. She extracted
the kitten, claw by claw, from her sweater and placed him, protesting mightily,
into the carrier.

“Thank
you,” Sam and Joan said in unison.

Maggie
smiled. “I’m thrilled he’s going to a loving home.”

They
exited the laundry room without allowing any additional escapees, and Maggie
walked them to the door. “I’ve got some projects here that I’ll need help
with,” she said to Sam. “Can you stop by next Saturday?”

“Whatever
you need,” he replied. “See you then.”

Maggie
was closing the front door when she glimpsed another car approaching through
the trees that lined the long, winding driveway up the hill to Rosemont. She
paused in her doorway as Glenn Vaughn’s old Cadillac came into view. She waived
as it pulled to a stop and Glenn got out and went around to the passenger side
to open the door for Gloria. Maggie smiled. It was heartwarming to see the
old-fashioned chivalry of these newlyweds.

“What
in the world are you doing, standing around in the cold?” Gloria fussed as they
climbed the steps to the entryway.

“Sam
and Joan just left with their kitten,” Maggie replied. “I was closing the door
when I saw you.”

“Busy
afternoon for you,” Glenn remarked.

“I’m
happy to get some of these guys adopted out,” Maggie replied. “They’re very
cute, and I’ve had lots of fun with them, but six cats is a lot.”

“Too
many,” Gloria agreed.

“But
you don’t have to take one,” Maggie hastily added. “Only if you find one that
you’d really like to have.”

She
retraced her steps to the laundry room and abandoned all hope of getting the
elderly couple to quickly slide through the doorway. This time, however, it wasn’t
necessary. The kittens were occupied dismantling a stack of paper grocery bags
and paid no attention to the new visitors.

Glenn
and Gloria stood quietly and watched the inquisitive group. A tiny white kitten
with gray tips on her fur finally broke away from her siblings and cautiously
approached Gloria. She wound around Gloria’s feet in the familiar figure-eight
pattern that cats favor and allowed Gloria to pick her up. Gloria cradled her
gently, stroking her between the ears and along her back. She began to purr and
Gloria nodded to Glenn.

“Whatever
you think, my dear,” he said quietly.

Gloria
turned to Maggie. “I’ve always thought that cats pick their owners, not the
other way around.”

Maggie
nodded. “There’s some truth to that.”

“This
little gal has picked me, so I think we’re all set. How much is she?”

“Nothing,
of course,” Maggie replied. “I’m just thrilled you’re adopting her. Let me get
you a cardboard box to take her home in.”

Gloria
shook her head and held up the large canvas satchel she carried on her arm.
“Not necessary. This will do fine.”

She
placed the cat in her bag, and she and Glenn turned to leave. “We’ve got to
run. We’re going to the dance at four,” Glenn said. “As I remember, you’re a
very good dancer. Why don’t you and John join us?”

Maggie
smiled. “Joan was just asking, too. Things have been a bit crazy lately,” she
said, gesturing to the kittens. “How’s it going? Is attendance good?”

“Terrific,”
Glenn replied. “Westbury West Coast Swing Society has renewed their lease for another
year, and we even raised their rent.” He proceeded down the front steps to open
Gloria’s door.

“Thank
you for our cat, dear,” Gloria said, patting Maggie’s arm. “We’ll be a very
happy family.”

Chapter 24

Maggie and John were both visibly relieved when Judy
Young closed up her laptop and announced she had to get going. “I’ll tidy up
this list tonight and email it to you. Give it to your insurance agent first
thing tomorrow, before you go to Town Hall,” she said, peering at Maggie over
her glasses.

“I
promise,” Maggie assured her. “And I can’t thank you enough for all your hard
work and expertise. I had no idea.”

“Believe
me, the pleasure was all mine. Most fun I’ve had in I-can’t-remember-when.”

John
and Maggie collapsed in the wing chairs flanking the living room fireplace as
Judy’s car pulled away.

“You’ve
hit pay dirt, my dear,” John reached over and took her hand.

“I
know. I can hardly believe it.” She turned to him. “I almost forgot it was up
there, what with all that’s been going on.”

John
nodded.

“Great
suggestion to get Judy over here. I would have eventually called my insurance
agent, but who knows how long I would have left it all sitting out in plain
sight. Makes me nervous, to be honest with you. Are you on call tonight?”

John
shook his head. “I need to run by the emergency hospital to check on a patient
I treated late last night, but that’s it. Why don’t I do that now and come back
here to take you to dinner.”

“And
leave this stash? No way,”

“Then
I’ll pick up a pizza from Tomascino’s.”

“Nothing
I’d like better,” Maggie replied, pulling him to his feet. “If we don’t get
moving, we’ll never get up. You go check on your patient, and I’ll call
Susan—after I set that silver chocolate pot aside to give to Judy. It was
her favorite piece and will make the perfect thank-you gift.”

“You’re
a class act, Maggie Martin. That’s one of the many reasons I’m so crazy about
you.”

***

“Mom?” Susan answered on the fourth ring, sounding
groggy.

“Oh,
honey. Were you asleep?” Maggie asked.

“Taking
a nap. What time is it?”

“It’s
one-thirty, your time,” Maggie replied.

“I
should get up; I’ve got stuff to do. What’s up?”

“We
made the most amazing discovery here at Rosemont.”

“Do
tell,” Susan demanded, and Maggie pictured her daughter sitting straight up in
bed, now fully alert.

“Remember
when I got locked in the attic?”

“Of
course I remember, Mom.” Maggie imagined the eye roll that Susan would be
giving her. “You were in that cold, creepy attic all afternoon and planned to
tie old draperies together to climb out the window if no one found you. The
thought of you doing that still gives me nightmares.”

“Thank
goodness I heard Frank Haynes drive up and was able to get his attention. I
know the police tell you never to hide a key outside your house, but I’m sure
glad I had one hidden that day. I’ll always be grateful to him for rescuing
me—no matter what else he’s done. Anyway, did I mention I found that old
secretary full of vintage silver in the corner?”

“You
mentioned it—and?”

“We
brought the silver downstairs this weekend. I got David Wheeler to help me.
Tons and tons of stuff. I was polishing it yesterday afternoon when John
stopped by and suggested I ask Judy to take a look at it. Turns out she is
quite an expert on antique silver.”

“That’s
cool, Mom.” Maggie could tell Susan’s enthusiasm was starting to wane.
These
modern girls don’t want to fuss with anything that requires much upkeep. Who
could blame them?

“Turns
out some of it may be incredibly valuable. Maybe even priceless,” she
expounded, feeling guilty if she was exaggerating to seize her daughter’s
attention.

Her
words had their desired effect. “No way! That’s incredible.” Maggie could hear
Susan settle down for a prolonged chat. “Tell me everything.”

Maggie
slipped into the laundry room and, with one hand, removed a load of dry socks
and towels from the dryer while she held her phone to her ear and launched into
the story. She transferred a load of clothes from the washer into the dryer and
never noticed the trio of bright green eyes following her every move. Before
she’d closed the door behind her, one of the kittens abandoned her perch to investigate.

Maggie
and Susan spent the next forty-five minutes discussing the silver and
speculating on its origins before Susan inquired about the status of things at
Town Hall.

Maggie
sighed.

“That
good, huh?” Susan remarked. “Has anything happened?”

“No.
And that’s the problem. We can’t seem to make progress on any of the
investigations. We’re running into road blocks everywhere we turn.”

“These
things take time, Mom. Especially financial fraud on the grand scale that
you’re dealing with. You know that.”

“I
do. But Chief Thomas and Alex are feuding, which makes it all so much harder.
And they’re coming to me to take sides. No matter what I do, I can’t win.”

“What
are their gripes?”

“Alex
is frustrated that there’s no progress on the investigations into the arson
fires or his accident. Chief Thomas is mad at Alex because he’s interfering in
the arson investigations. The chief is taking his time, hoping to catch bigger
fish than the guys who set the fires. He thinks the mob is involved, and he
wants to make arrests at the top of the food chain.”

“Makes
sense. And Alex can’t be part of an investigation where he’s the victim. He
knows better.”

“There’s
more. Chief Thomas is frustrated that he hasn’t received any of the documents
from the offshore banks Alex subpoenaed months ago. Now that William Wheeler is
dead, the chief has no one to turn state’s evidence. He’s at a standstill and
needs those documents to get going again.”

“What
does Alex say to that?”

“That
he’s working on it and that enforcing a subpoena internationally is very
complex.”

“He’s
right. Does he have anyone helping him?”

“His
paralegal. She’s wonderful, but every time I see her, she looks like she hasn’t
slept for a week. And the town’s in a hiring freeze.”

Susan
was silent, thinking. “You’ve got too much work for too few people.”

“That’s
obvious,” Maggie snapped and instantly regretted it.

“Don’t
go getting testy, Mom. I have a suggestion.”

“Sorry,
honey. Let’s hear it.”

“You’ve
still got the law firm on retainer, don’t you? Stetson & Graham? I’ll bet
they haven’t done much to earn that retainer since you appointed Alex as
special counsel. Time for them to earn their keep.”

“You
think so?” Maggie asked, intrigued by the idea.

“I
know so. Not Bill Stetson. He’d try to take over and would irritate Alex. You
need an associate with experience. Someone who can take over the research and
motions that Alex has to contend with. That’ll help clear this log jam.”

“Brilliant
idea. Thank you, honey. How did you get to be so smart?”

“I
must take after my mom,” Susan said. “And one more thing. While we’ve been
talking, I figured out what you should name your three kittens.”

“You
have?”

“I
hope they’re all girls, but even if they’re boys, you should call them Blossom,
Bubbles, and Buttercup.”

“Those
are sweet names. Why do they sound vaguely familiar?”

“Remember
the PowerPuff Girls on Cartoon Network? They’re the names of those big-eyed little
girls with superpowers that zoomed around protecting the mayor of Townsville,
USA,” Susan stated proudly.

“That’s
it. You used to babysit for kids that loved that show.” Maggie laughed. “You’re
right—those names are perfect. I could use someone with superpowers to
help me.”

“So
it’s settled?”

“It’s
settled. And the three kittens I’m keeping are all girls, so it’ll be fine.
Once again, Susan to the rescue.”

“Aaron’s
picking me up in twenty minutes, and I haven’t showered yet. Gotta go. I’ll
call you tomorrow.”

Maggie
picked up her laundry basket and entered the laundry room. She was greeted by a
duo of bright-green eyes and no clean laundry anywhere. She blinked.
Where
in the world was the laundry I placed on top of the dryer? And where is that
third cat?

Maggie
searched high and low, to no avail.
The kitten must have escaped when I left
the room and is now wandering all over Rosemont, getting into
heaven-knows-what.
Maggie was closing the door when she heard a soft mewing
coming from somewhere below her feet. She stood still and listened. After what
seemed like an eternity, she heard the sound again.

Maggie
stepped back into the laundry room. “Where’s your sister?” she asked the less
adventuresome pair, peering at her over the side of their box. Maggie got down
on her hands and knees and waited. This time, she was able to trace the sound
to an old grate in the wall positioned just above the floor. One of the bars of
the grate was bent, creating an opening just large enough for a kitten to slip
through. She was definitely in the ductwork behind that grate.

Maggie
quickly retrieved a flashlight from the kitchen and shone it into the grate.
She was able to make out a string of socks—her recently laundered
socks—leading back and out of sight. The kitten was nowhere to be seen,
but she could hear her meowing unhappily.

Procuring
a slice of cheese from the kitchen, Maggie tore off a small chunk and placed it
inside the grate. She didn’t have long to wait for the kitten to follow her
nose to the treat. She reached two fingers through the grate and stroked her
fur while the kitten ate the snack. Maggie placed a piece of cheese outside the
grate but the kitten wasn’t able to go back through it. Maggie tried to pull
her to safety until the kitten squirmed free of her grasp. “Stay right here,”
Maggie admonished sternly. She secured the other kittens in their box and went
in search of a screwdriver and a letter opener.

When
she returned, the wayward kitten was nowhere to be seen. Maggie unscrewed the
grate and used the letter opener to pry it loose from the wall. She placed a
piece of cheese on the floor outside the opening to the vent but the kitten
didn’t approach. She sat quietly and listened. She was sure she could hear her,
crying faintly, somewhere along the long, dark pipe. Maggie rolled onto her
stomach and shone the flashlight into the duct. She could see the kitten,
almost ten feet away. Beyond that was another grate that opened to the
breakfast room. Maggie cooed to the kitten and tore off pieces of cheese and
flung them in her direction. Wary and scared, the kitten wouldn’t budge.

Maggie
rocked back on her heels to think. If she couldn’t coax her out, maybe she
could force her from the other direction. “I’m coming back for you; don’t be
afraid,” she whispered as she pushed herself to her feet and headed off to her
bathroom. Grabbing her hairdryer, she ran to the breakfast room and found the
grate that lay at the other end of the duct. She positioned her hairdryer on
the floor, setting it upright between a large can of beans and a bottle of
olive oil that she’d snatched from the pantry. She set the hairdryer at the
coolest temperature and aimed the airstream into the duct.

Maggie
raced into the laundry room just in time to see a very disgruntled kitten
scamper from the duct. “Success!” she cried as she scooped her up, delighted
that her plan had worked. She deposited the kitten in the box with her sisters
and took them into the kitchen.

“You’ll
have to stay here until Sam Torres fixes that grate. In the meantime,” she said
to the three earnest faces staring at her, “don’t get into any trouble.”