Coming to Rosemont (10 page)

Chapter 14

John Allen pulled up a few minutes
early. Inside, Maggie fumbled with the cantankerous lock on the heavy front
door. Her hands were clammy, and she felt faintly queasy. Eve was yipping and
jumping and shot out onto the porch the minute the door was open wide enough to
let her through.

“Quite the welcoming committee,” he said as he
scooped up Eve.

“Her manners need improving, that’s for sure. I’m
sorry,” Maggie said as John stepped over the threshold and deposited the
squirming creature securely inside. “I’ve never trained a dog before. We need
to sign up for obedience lessons.”

“There are lots of options for that. Group classes
and private trainers. I’ll email you a list.”

John helped her into her jacket, and she picked up
her purse from the foyer table. In a voice that she hoped sounded casual, she
asked, “So—are you ready to reveal where we’re headed? Or is it still top
secret?”

John held the door of his Suburban open for her.
“Partially. We’re going to The Mill for dinner. Have you heard of it?”

“I’ve seen their ad in the paper. I understand
it’s been around for ages; has quite a colorful history,” Maggie replied. “I
thought I’d take my kids there when they visit. I’d like them to see the
countryside around here. Southern California has trees, but not
Hansel-and-Gretel woods like these. I can’t take my eyes off of the scenery.”

“I’ve lived in the Midwest all my life, and I
can’t take my eyes off of it, either. But we don’t have any of your California
beaches,” he added as they set off. “Nothing beats a walk on the beach.” They
kept up amiable small talk along the way and her jittery nerves were beginning
to calm as he turned the Suburban off of the main road and onto the driveway
for The Mill. He parked and sprang out of the car to open her door. Instead of
climbing the stairs to the main entrance, John led them around the side of the
building to a skating rink, now deserted, set up under strings of fairy lights.
The blazing colors of the sunset were reflected in the nearby river. The air
was crisp and the scene was serene.

“What a perfect spot for skating!” Maggie
exclaimed. “I’m definitely going to bring my granddaughters here when they
visit during winter. I can teach them how to skate. This will be fabulous,” she
enthused.

“I was hoping you’d like it,” John said, obviously
pleased with her reaction. “You told me you figure skated when you were a kid.
You won some competitions. And you don’t remember what you like to do for fun.
So I thought this might be a good place to start. It’s been a long time since
I’ve been on skates. I hope I can keep up with you. The skate rental is inside.
Let’s go get suited up.”

Maggie turned to him with a mixture of amazement
and trepidation. “We’re going to skate? You get high marks for originality.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure you won’t be taking me out of here on a stretcher,”
she added as she raced up the stairs ahead of him.

It took about ten minutes for John to rustle up someone
with a key to the cabinet holding the rental skates, but they finally managed
to find the appropriate sizes and get themselves laced in, their shoes parked
together companionably under a bench at the side of the rink. Night had fallen
and the black ice shone in the reflected fairy lights.

John stepped on the ice first and offered Maggie
his hand. They both wobbled a bit, but soon found their footing and began
gliding around the rink. They fell into a steady rhythm and Maggie took John’s
arm. “Okay, Dr. Allen,” she said. “It’s obvious that this rink wasn’t supposed
to be open for business tonight. The sign by the skate rental said it closed
last weekend. So how did you make this happen?”

“It was nothing, really. I came out here on
Thursday and they were happy to do it,” he said making light of his efforts.
“You’re good,” he observed. “Actually, we’re both pretty good. Having fun?”

“More fun than I’ve had in I can’t remember when,”
she said. “This is magic. I’d forgotten how wonderful it feels to glide along
with the cold breeze blowing through my hair. Thank you for going to all of the
trouble.”

“This is a very special evening,” he replied
simply.

Maggie attempted a scratch spin that made her dizzy;
spotting was something she’d have to practice. John helped her off the ice to
the bench, where she sat motionless until she regained her equilibrium. Her
checks were red, her nose runny and her carefully styled hair was blown to
bits. But her eyes sparkled and her smile was joyful and genuine. John thought
she looked incredible.

They sat for a moment longer, exhilarated by the
knowledge that they could still skate. It was, after all, like riding a bike.
John stood and they climbed the stairs to the dining room. She stopped at the
ladies room to check herself in the mirror and was sorry she had. Her hair and
makeup were beyond repair, but she was having such fun she didn’t much care.

They were shown to a cozy table in the corner by
the windows overlooking the river and the now empty rink. The menu was extensive
and Maggie realized she was famished. John asked her to select an appetizer,
and she ordered the garlic chicken flatbread. She had a glass of wine and he
had a beer. They both ordered the chef’s special, salmon with polenta and
cucumber-beet salsa.

Conversation flowed easily over their leisurely
meal. “We’ve talked mostly about me,” Maggie said. “Which is really bad manners
on my part. I’d like to know about you. Tell me the John Allen story.”

He warmed to her interest and talked at length
about what had evidently been a very happy childhood. His dad was a dairy
farmer and his mom a hardworking farm wife. She also gave piano lessons. Both
passed away years ago and the farm sold to make way for a subdivision. He
played football and hockey in high school and was still an avid fan. Preferred
college sports to the pros, but watched it all in his free time. Loved working
with animals as a kid, but witnessed the hardness of his dad’s life and knew he
didn’t want to be a farmer. So he decided to become a vet. He loved his job and
his patients. The business aspect of running his practice was not his strong
suit, but after an office manager embezzled from him years ago, he accepted
that he had to attend to this detail.

“That must have been awful,” Maggie said. “It happens
more often than you might think.” She resisted the urge to disclose the story
of Paul’s embezzlement.
Not yet,
she told herself. Before John could ask
her about her remark, she continued, “You haven’t told me if you’ve ever been
married or have kids.”

“I was married for fourteen years. We divorced
fifteen years ago. Never had children, which I regretted. I always wanted to be
a dad,” he stated matter-of-factly. Maggie looked into his eyes and waited for
him to continue. “Sharon was fun and vivacious when we got married. My parents
thought that she was shallow and selfish and never liked her. I was charmed by
her. I was a serious bookworm and was flattered that this popular, fun-loving
spirit chose me. Turns out my parents were right,” he said with a rueful smile.
“She never grew out of her self-centered ways and constantly used me and
everyone else in her life. She got so that she couldn’t hold a job; couldn’t
get along with her co-workers. Nothing was ever enough. Even though we had
agreed to have kids, she never wanted to ruin her body with a pregnancy. She
was totally selfish.”

“Did you finally have enough and end it?” Maggie
couldn’t help asking. “I know what it’s like to be married to an egocentric.
Paul always made sure he was the center of attention. It gets old after a
while.”

“I found out that she was having an affair. I
suspect it wasn’t the first. I always worked long hours and wasn’t around to
constantly entertain her. And she wasn’t good at entertaining herself. So that
was it for me. I filed for divorce, offered her a fair settlement, and she was
on her way. She moved to Chicago, and I heard that she died there three years
ago.”

“Being cheated on is a bitter pill to swallow. I
think Paul was having an affair when he died. It haunts me. One day I’ll find
out.” She couldn’t believe she was being so open with him. “You would have been
a wonderful father,” she said. “You haven’t wanted to re-marry?”

“I’d like to. I believe in marriage. Just haven’t
found the right gal. And believe me, I’ve looked,” he said. “Dating services,
online, blind dates arranged by friends. I’m not going to get myself into
another bad marriage. I’m happy on my own until I meet the right person. And it
looks like we need some dessert,” he said, changing the serious mood and waving
the waiter over to take their order.

Maggie and John were the last diners to leave the
restaurant. A full moon illuminated the clouds and the courthouse looked
incandescent against the surrounding trees. The square was deserted with the
notable exception of Pete’s. Cars filled every available parking spot. The door
was propped open and the crowd spilled out onto the sidewalk. They could hear
someone playing jazz piano.

“I forgot,” John turned to Maggie. “Marc is
playing tonight. Alex’s partner? He’s one of my favorites. He always packs ’em
in at Pete’s. Would you like to stop in?”

“I haven’t been out this late in months,” she
laughed. “I can’t believe I’m not dead on my feet. And you’re the one who
worked all day. If you aren’t too tired, I’d love to.” John pulled to the curb
on the other side of the square and took Maggie’s hand as they walked back to
Pete’s.

Inside, the restaurant was dimly lit and buzzing
with energy. Pete wound them through the crowd to a table by the back door.
Marc was in the middle of a set.

They had just settled into their seats and ordered
coffee when the piercing sound of a fire truck could be heard above the din, approaching
fast. It was barely starting to recede when another siren could be heard in the
distance, then another. Several people stepped outside to see where the trucks
were headed.

Marc continued to play, unaware of the
disturbance. John and Maggie, wedged in the back, stayed put and watched the
swell of people by the front door. Maggie saw Pete talking with a man who was
clearly agitated. The man tore off into the night, and Pete quickly skirted the
room and knelt by their table. He leaned in to be heard above the noise.

“Alex’s law practice is on fire,” he said. “And
his home.” Pete paused to let the implications of this coincidence sink in.
John and Maggie got quickly to their feet, snatched their coats from the vacant
chair and followed Pete out the back door.

“Alex is on the way to his office now,” Pete said.
“I’m going to tell Marc, and close down the bar as soon as I can get everyone
out. Would you take Marc to their house? I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“Of course,” John said. “Go. I’ll bring my car
back here. Send him out the back door.” John turned to Maggie. “I’ll run you
home now, if that’s okay.”

“No way,” Maggie replied. “I’m going with you. All
hands on deck, I think.” They retrieved John’s car and waited in silence until
a frantic Marc burst through the back door.

Chapter 15

Two police cars blocked the
entrance to the street. A plume of dark smoke snaked up into the cloudy night
sky. John pulled to the curb and the acrid smell of burning wood engulfed them.
Marc leapt out of the car before it came to a stop and raced toward his house.
John followed, with Maggie bringing up the rear. A police officer intercepted
Marc in the driveway.

“You’ll have to stay back, sir,” he told Marc
firmly, spreading his arms to block Marc’s progress.

“This is my house,” Marc choked as he struggled to
get past the officer.

 “Was anyone at home? Any pets?”

“No, we were both out, and we don’t have pets.”

“The fire captain wants to speak to you. I’ll tell
him who you are. In the meantime, wait over there with your neighbors. They’ve
been very concerned about you,” he said, pointing to the small group huddled
together on the front lawn of the house next door.

John took Marc’s arm and steered him toward the
group. A matronly looking woman in a wooly bathrobe stepped forward and wrapped
her arms around Marc. “We were so worried,” she cried. “Is Alex with you?” she
asked, looking over Marc’s shoulder at John.

“No,” John answered. “He’s at his office. There’s
a fire there, too,” he stated. “Marc was playing at Pete’s. That’s where we all
were when the fires broke out. Alex went to his office and we brought Marc
here.”

The neighbor drew in a sharp breath. “Two fires at
once? Then this was intentional. We’ve been talking. We thought it might be.”
She released a dazed Marc. “I’m so relieved you’re both all right.” Marc nodded
and silently stepped away to watch the sure and steady destruction before him.

“Why did you suspect the fire was set
intentionally?” John asked.

“I was in my kitchen. I heard a big bang from this
direction. I ran to my door and looked out. I can see my backyard and part of
theirs,” she explained, pointing toward her yard and then to the burning house.
“I saw two men scrambling over their back fence. My husband heard it from our
bedroom. He went out the front door.” She turned to a man who had joined them
while she was talking. “Tell them,” she said.

“The explosion was really loud. I knew it was
close. I went out the front door and smelled gasoline. The house was engulfed
in flame,” he continued. He pointed to his wife. “She came to the door and I
yelled for her to call 9-1-1. All hell broke loose around here then. Everyone
on the street heard the explosion. People were running up here. Several of us
tried to get near the house to see if they were home, but the heat was
overpowering,” he said. “We were around back, trying to find a way to get in
when the firefighters arrived. They got us out of there in a hurry.”

“They must think it’s arson,” a nearby man chimed
in. “The police arrived shortly after the firefighters got here. They’ve been
questioning all of us.”

“Did anyone see anything else?” Maggie asked.

“I don’t think so,” the man said.

A new set of headlights down the street signaled
Alex’s arrival. As Marc had done only minutes before, Alex ran toward the
chaos. John started toward him, but Maggie grabbed his arm. “No. Give them a
moment alone with this,” she said softly. Alex slowed his pace and came to
stand, shoulder to shoulder with Marc, watching the material trappings of their
lives disintegrate. Marc lifted his arm to Alex’s shoulder, and both men
straightened and stood a little taller.

A firefighter told the neighbors that the fire was
out and to contact the police if anyone remembered anything else. Reluctant to
leave but with nothing left to do, they murmured uneasy goodnights and headed
to their homes and beds.

John and Maggie approached Alex and Marc. The
woman next door joined them and asked if they would like to stay with her for a
few days.

“That’s very kind of you,” Marc said. “We haven’t
even thought of that yet.”

“I couldn’t sleep right now,” Alex added. “You go
back to bed. We’ll talk to you tomorrow. And thank you,” he said as he gave her
shoulder a squeeze before she headed off to her house.

They stood on the now deserted lawn and watched
silently as the firefighters packed up their equipment and prepared to leave. A
police officer advised them that he would remain on guard until the property
was fenced off.

“Nothing’s going to happen tonight,” the officer
said. “Go get some rest. You’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”

Alex and Marc were again shaking their heads no
when Maggie took charge. “You two are coming home with me,” she announced. “I
obviously have plenty of room. You can sleep or stay up for the rest of the
night, and you won’t bother me a bit. And you can remain with me as long as you
like. Your insurance company will pay for a hotel, but you’ll be more
comfortable at Rosemont.”

Pete joined the group as Maggie was finishing.
“That’s a terrific idea. We can talk more there,” he said patting Alex on the
back. Alex and Marc reluctantly followed Tim down the driveway to the car.

Maggie and John lead the caravan back to Rosemont.
She left John in charge of corralling Eve and ushering Pete, Marc, and Alex
into the house while she started a pot of coffee.

The four men joined her in the kitchen where she
had set out mugs, cream, and sugar. Alex was explaining what he had found at
his office. He slumped onto a stool at the kitchen island and turned to Maggie.
“They suspect arson there, too,” he told her. “Fortunately, my building is
equipped with sprinklers. The firefighters got there right away and put the
fire out quickly. We’re a paperless office, and we back up our systems every
night, so we’ll be able to function from temporary quarters on Monday. Our
furniture is all badly damaged, but it was insured. We didn’t lose anything
that we can’t easily replace,” he concluded.

“You can use my upstairs room to see clients and
hold meetings,” Pete offered. “It’s private and convenient. Heck—it might
even bring in customers for me,” he joked. “Schedule your appointments around
meal times, okay?”

“Thanks,” Alex replied with an attempt at a smile.
“I’ll think about it. I don’t want to do anything that would make you a target,
too.”

Marc paced restlessly. “Who would do this to us?”

John uncrossed his arms and reached for the coffee
pot. “It could be a hate crime,” he said. “There are some deeply bigoted folks
around here. You could be targeted for your lifestyle. Or it could be related
to our investigation into the corruption at Town Hall.”

Pete whistled softly. “I wondered if you were
going to stir up a hornet’s nest with that,” he said. “What have you found
out?”

Alex rubbed his hand wearily over his eyes. “
Reader’s
Digest
version—the pension fund has been making fraudulent loans on
shopping centers owned by offshore entities. The people managing the fund don’t
want the loans to be repaid. They want the properties to go into foreclosure.
When they do, the pension fund takes a big loss and a different offshore entity
buys the property at the foreclosure sale for pennies on the dollar.”

“Maybe I’m just slow here, but I don’t get it,”
Marc stopped and turned toward the others.

“They got big loans on the shopping centers using
inflated appraisals and pocketed most of the loan proceeds. Just like the
cash-out refinancing that has been such a problem for the housing industry.
They signed up tenants to look legitimate and then jacked up their rents with
add-on charges that were buried in the fine print of the leases. All of the
tenants in these centers are mom-and-pop businesses. They probably never had a lawyer
look at their lease before they signed it.” Maggie explained. Alex nodded in
agreement.

She continued, “The rent they collect is just
gravy. What they really want is for the property to go into foreclosure so they
can buy it back cheaply—a clever scheme to embezzle money from the
pension fund in a way that appears legitimate. If the economy had not taken
such a hit and the fund’s other investments had continued to support the
payments to pensioners, no one would have ever known,” she concluded.

“Those bastards,” Pete said. “Sorry, Maggie.”

“No—you’ve got that right,” Maggie agreed.

“How big is this? Who exactly is part of it?” Pete
asked.

“Not sure yet,” Alex sighed. “We’re just
uncovering all of this. We think that it’s all related to Wheeler and other
councilmembers.”

“Except Tonya Holmes. And maybe Frank Haynes,”
John added. “The committee hasn’t even met yet to go over all of this. We’ve
been discreet. If this attack on you, Alex, is related to our investigation, I
wonder what they know about it.”

“Sam and Tim Knudsen drove around to inspect some
of the centers. Maybe someone noticed them. That’s the only thing I can think
of,” Alex replied.

“Unless someone is leaking information to them,”
Maggie said. “Or unless they have someone bugged. Now I’m sounding paranoid,”
she said sheepishly. “I must be watching too much TV.”

“No,” John said. “I was thinking the same thing.
We need to be very careful here. People in high places will lose their jobs and
may go to jail. They could have done this,” he warned.

“When do you plan to go to the police?” Pete
asked. “This is scary stuff.”

“I guess we should get the committee together in
the morning to figure out what to do now,” Maggie replied. “And Pete—no
one thinks you’re involved with this, and we should keep it that way. You and
Laura have enough on your plates,” she said, with a knowing look.

“Maybe the police will come up with something.
Maybe whoever set the fires left clues behind,” Marc said.

“The arson investigators from the insurance
company may also be helpful,” Maggie added. “We’ve got lots of questions that
we can’t answer right now. We know that evil is afoot. The main thing is that
no one was hurt.”

“Absolutely right,” John interjected. “Whoever did
this knew you weren’t going to be home. They didn’t want to injure you. At
least that’s something.” He checked his watch. “It’s two thirty in the morning.
Tomorrow will be a busy day. We need to get some sleep,” he said and began
gathering up coffee cups.

“Leave all of that,” Maggie said. “I’ll take care
of it. You’re right. I’ll email Tonya tonight and ask her to call me first
thing. Why don’t we try to meet with the committee here sometime tomorrow? I’ll
coordinate all of that.”

“Marc and I will want to go to the house in the
morning to see if we can salvage anything,” Alex said. Marc nodded his
agreement.

“I’ll pick you up and take you over there,” John
offered. “At eight. It’ll be light then. You should try to get some sleep now.”

“I’ll feed you all breakfast first,” Maggie said
as she ushered the group out of her kitchen and turned out the light. Pete and
John headed for the front door as Maggie lead Alex and Marc upstairs to the
bedroom at the top of the stairs. “I think you’ll be comfortable here,” she
said as she turned down the bed. “You can leave the TV on all night if you
like. I won’t hear a thing in my room. I know you’re keyed up, but at least lie
down and rest. There is absolutely nothing you can do right now.” With that,
she gave them each a hug and closed the door behind her.

Maggie walked wearily down the stairs to collect
Eve. She was surprised to see John waiting for her in the foyer.

“I wanted to make sure you got all locked up,” he
said.

Maggie smiled. “I’m careful,” she assured him.
“What a night,” she sighed. “And we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

John turned toward Maggie. She wondered if he was
going to kiss her. She hoped he was going to kiss her. He hesitated, one hand
on the door handle. She smiled up at him.

“Skating is still fun for me,” Maggie said. “Thank
you for reminding me.”

John drew a slow breath and regarded her
thoughtfully.
Not now,
he thought.
Not with all of this distraction,
not with Alex and Marc at the top of the stairs. When I kiss this woman for the
first time, I intend to rock her world.
It was his turn to smile. He told
her he enjoyed the evening and would see her in the morning. He opened the door
and was gone.