Drawing Close: The Fourth Novel in the Rosemont Series (5 page)

Chapter 9

The receptionist buzzed Susan
Martin’s private line for the second time in under a minute. The call must be
important. The woman knew she didn’t want to be interrupted. Susan extended an
arm awkwardly toward her phone, all the while keeping her eyes trained on her
computer screen, and found the speaker button.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Susan,” the woman
rushed to say, “but there’s a man here that insists he needs to see you.”

Susan opened her calendar on her computer screen.
“I don’t have anyone scheduled,” she said.

“That’s what I told him.” The receptionist sounded
pleased with herself. “Told him he’d have to make an appointment and come back.
But he says you know him, and you’ll want to see him.”

“Who is it?” Susan tried to keep the irritation
out of her voice. If her visitor was a salesman, she’d send him packing in a
heartbeat.

“Says his name is Aaron Scanlon. Dr. Aaron
Scanlon.”

Susan was on her feet and headed to the law firm’s
lobby before the woman finished speaking.

***

“What in the world?” Susan gasped
as she approached Aaron and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He reached out
to pull her to him, but she took his hand to divert him. The receptionist would
have enough fodder for office gossip with just that kiss on the cheek. “Come on
back to my office,” she said quickly, leading him away from the receptionist’s
prying eyes.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, shutting the
door to her office behind them.

“Everything’s fine, except that I’m missing you.”
Aaron swept her into his arms. “I got off work unexpectedly and came straight
here. Can I buy you lunch?”

“I ate at my desk. It’s almost three.”

“A cup of coffee, then? Are you in the middle of
some big motion?” he pointed to her computer screen.

“I am, actually. But I could use a short break. If
you haven’t eaten, I’ll go with you to keep you company.” She leaned into his
embrace. “I’m surprised you came here instead of racing home to your books.”

Aaron winced. “I know I’ve been going overboard
studying. I’m a compulsive over-preparer. But today is just too beautiful to
spend inside—either studying or drafting motions.” He rocked back on his
heels. “Why don’t we jump in my car and drive up the coast? Find someplace
along the beach for an early dinner and take a stroll on the sand at dusk. Can
you afford to leave that for tomorrow? You’re always advising me to lighten up,
so I’m challenging you to do the same.”

Susan smiled up at him. “All right, Ferris
Bueller. You’re on. Let me log off and grab my purse.”

***

The afternoon was Chamber of
Commerce perfect. They took the Pacific Coast Highway and headed north,
meandering through the beachy communities, packed with summer visitors. They
were inching through Carlsbad when Susan sighted a parking spot not more than
twenty yards ahead.

“Can we?” she asked as Aaron deftly maneuvered his
car into the tight spot. “I love the shops here. I haven’t wandered through
them in ages.”

“Then that’s what m’lady should do,” he replied.

“There’s the best spot for ice cream here, too. If
it’s still there.”

They found the ice cream parlor and most of her
old favorite shops. She was in her element, weaving through colorful displays,
comparing items, weighing the wisdom of her purchases. By the time they headed
back to Aaron’s car to feed the parking meter, he was loaded down with shopping
bags, which he insisted on carrying for her.

“I really could have taken some of those,” she
remarked as he loaded them into the trunk of his car.

“Do you want to make another round?” he asked,
smiling at her.

Susan shook her head. “That’s about all my credit
card can take for one afternoon. Why don’t we head back—maybe stop in Del
Mar for dinner?”

Aaron opened the car door for her. “I Googled
things to do while you were in that dress shop. There’s a performance tonight
of
Les Misérables
at the La Jolla Playhouse. If we can get tickets,
would you like to go?”

Susan turned to him, wide-eyed in amazement. “You
know that’s my favorite musical. I’d love to. It runs almost three
hours—are you sure you’re up for it?”

He sensed she was holding her breath, waiting for
his answer. He passed his phone to her. “See if we can get tickets,” he
replied. “All I want to do today is treat the best girlfriend in the world to a
special day.”

***

Les Misérables
had been sold
out for weeks, the ticket agent told Susan, but they were in luck as a season
ticket holder had just turned in two seats for that evening’s performance. They
were in the third row, center, and could be hers if she’d give the agent her
credit card number to hold them. Susan fumbled in her purse, but Aaron shook
his head and handed her his wallet. “This one’s on me.”

With the tickets secured, they drove into La Jolla
and found a quaint seafood restaurant near the beach. It was fully booked for
dinner, the maître d’ advised, but they could sit in the bar and enjoy the full
menu. They perched on chairs at a high-topped table in the most secluded corner
and followed their server’s suggestions for appetizers and entrees. By the time
they finished their calamari and sea bass with risotto, they were stuffed.

“We ate like mad dogs,” Susan observed.

“I was starved. Being outside all afternoon gave
me quite an appetite.”

“Delicious.” Susan smiled at the waiter. When he
asked if they’d like to see the dessert menu, they both shook their heads.

“Let’s walk along the beach,” Aaron suggested.
“Work off this dinner before the play. I don’t want to fall asleep in my seat.”

***

Aaron took Susan’s hand to steady
her as she slipped her shoes off before stepping onto the beach. They walked
along, into the light wind, holding their shoes and swinging their clasped
hands. Aaron turned to her. “This has been the perfect day. Thank you so much
for putting your work aside.”

She smiled up at him. “I’ll pay for it tomorrow,
but it’ll be worth it. Even if I have to work all night tomorrow.”

Aaron stopped and looked into her eyes. “I want us
to have a lifetime of these kinds of days. There’s nothing I want more, Susan
Martin.”

***

The La Jolla Playhouse did a
masterful job with the ambitious production of
Les Misérables
, and the
audience was on its feet for a standing ovation at the final curtain. Susan
waited in the long ladies’ room line before they undertook the drive home. The
parking lot was almost empty by the time they made their way to the car. Aaron
was closing Susan’s door when she reached out and stopped him.

“Listen,” she said. “Do you hear that?”

Aaron straightened and paused, then shook his
head.

“That!” she cried, stepping back out of the car.

He looked at her quizzically.

“I hear meowing,” she insisted. “Can’t you hear
it?” She put her hand on his arm. “There!”

This time, Aaron nodded.

“It’s coming from over there,” she pointed to the
dumpster in the corner of the parking lot. “It sounds like a kitten. I’ll bet
someone’s abandoned it in there and left it to die. ”

Aaron began to shake his head. “I don’t know,
sweetheart. Stray cats eat out of dumpsters all the time.”

Susan was already halfway to the dumpster. “We
have to rescue it.”

“It’s probably feral and doesn’t want to be
rescued.”

She stood next to the dumpster and waited. The plaintive
sounds were muffled but distinct. “We have to get it out of here.”

Aaron studied this woman whose kind heart and
generous spirit were so endearing to him. He knew there was no way he could
dissuade her.

“There’s a milk crate over there,” Susan said,
pointing to the fence behind the dumpster. “I can stand on it and look inside.”

“I’ll stand on the crate,” he said, retrieving it
and placing it next to the dumpster.

“Do you see any signs of her?” Susan asked after
Aaron had been on his perch for several minutes.

He shook his head. “I think we were mistaken. I
don’t think there’s anything in there.” He waited another two full minutes
before stepping off the crate.

Susan nodded and reluctantly retraced their steps
to the car. They were headed to the exit of the now empty lot when Susan
unhooked her seat belt. “I need to get up on that crate and see for myself. I
know she’s in there, Aaron. I can feel it. She’ll come to me.”

He thought about protesting the futility of the
effort and the lateness of the hour, but turned the car and drove slowly to the
dumpster.

“Stay back,” Susan urged. “Let me go alone. She’s
frightened. Both of us will scare her off.”

“You don’t even know if there’s a cat in there,
let alone that it’s a girl,” he remarked.

Susan was out of the car. “She’s there, and it’s a
girl,” she turned and whispered.

Susan climbed onto the milk crate and hung over
the side of the dumpster, ignoring the fact that she was still dressed in her
expensive business suit. She extended her arm and cooed softly. She was
beginning to lose hope when she heard a soft meow. She reached in the direction
of the sound and two matted ears, followed by two enormous eyes, emerged from
the trash and debris.

Susan leaned further into the dumpster, whispering
soft assurances to the bedraggled creature. Her efforts were rewarded, and the
tiny kitten emerged. Susan scooped her up and brought the filthy animal to
nestle under her chin. The kitten made no protest, instinctively understanding
that this woman was her salvation. They made their way back to the car.

“Let’s take a look at what you’ve got here,” he
said.

Susan held the kitten away from her chest but
didn’t relinquish her.

“She must be only a few days old.” He turned on
the dome light and leaned in to inspect the kitten. “Her fur is patchy and her
eyes are goopy. She’s full of fleas.” He looked at Susan and knew she would not
abandon this animal. “She may not survive, sweetheart,” he said gently. “She
needs to see a vet right away.”

Susan looked into his eyes. “I’ll take her to the
vet first thing and nurse her back to health. Don’t you see? This is a
sign—I’m meant to have her. I’m naming her Cozette, after the poor little
orphan girl in
Les Mis
.”

Aaron ran his finger lightly along the kitten’s cheek,
and Cozette began to purr. “We’ll nurse her back to health. Let’s get the two
of you home.”

Chapter 10

Police Chief Andy Thomas handed a
Styrofoam cup to Special Counsel Alex Scanlon. Alex took a swig and winced.
“This coffee is lethal.”

“It’s been on the burner since I came in at four.”
He turned to face Alex. “We’re finally going to get Chuck Delgado. We’ve had
him in our sights for years.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. The evidence is thin,
and we won’t convict him unless we can lay our hands on something else. His
lawyer will have him out on bail by dinnertime.”

The chief blew out a heavy sigh and leaned back
against his desk, crossing his ankles. “That may be true, but it’ll be good to
put the cuffs on him. Lock him up in a cell, even if it’s only for a few
hours.”

Alex nodded. “I plan to stop by the jail to see
him in custody. It’s been a long time coming.”

“What’s next?

“We’re hoping he’ll talk and cut a plea deal.”

“What?” the chief pushed himself to his feet.
“After all this, you’ll let him off?”

“You, of all people, know that we’re after bigger
fish.”

“I understand that, Alex, but the chances that
Delgado will finger anyone in the mob who’s higher up the food chain are slim
to none. It’d be a death sentence, and he knows it.”

“We could offer to put him in the Witness Protection
Program.”

The chief shook his head. “He’ll never go for it.
His lawyer will tell him how weak our case is and advise him to lay low and
keep his hands clean.”

Alex smirked. “You know how likely he is to follow
that advice? Delgado’s got no self-control at all. That’s our best
hope—that he’ll do something stupid.”

The chief shrugged. “You may be right.”

“When do you plan to take him into custody?”

“Any time now.”

“Arrest him at his home?” Alex asked.

“That was our plan. Except he didn’t go home last
night. Stayed in that office of his above his liquor store, and he had
company.”

Alex arched a brow.

“We don’t want to increase the drama of this
arrest by having his lady friend in the picture. We’ve got him under
surveillance and the minute she leaves, we’ll bring him in.”

Alex nodded.

“I’m going to put the cuffs on him myself. I’m
just waiting for the call. Care to join me?”

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile
spread across Alex Scanlon’s face.

***

Chief Thomas’ cell phone rang
thirty minutes later and they were underway. Two burly young officers mounted
the exterior stairway to Delgado’s second-floor office, followed by Chief
Thomas. Alex Scanlon brought up the rear. Their footsteps reverberated on the
metal stairs, making a racket that would wake the dead. It did not, however,
wake Chuck Delgado, who was sprawled across the decrepit sofa in the corner of
his office in a state of unconsciousness that was more hangover than sleep.

The first officer knocked loudly. “Police. Open
up.” He listened at the door, then repeated his summons. This time, he could
hear sounds from within. After what seemed like an eternity, Delgado fumbled
with the door and opened it a crack.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he slurred,
running his hand through the few remaining hairs on his greasy pate.

Chief Thomas pushed past his officers and into the
office. Surprise and fear raced across Delgado’s face.

“You’re under arrest.” The chief took the list
that Alex handed him and read the eighteen counts of fraud and embezzlement. “You
have the right to remain silent …” When the chief concluded the Miranda rights,
Delgado stepped toward the door. “Bastard,” he spat.

“We’re not done yet, Delgado.” The chief took one
of his arms and motioned for Alex to take the other. The chief secured the
handcuffs.

“What the … ? You bastards are taking me in in
cuffs? Afraid I can get away from Westbury’s finest?” he scoffed. “I’m a town
council member and an upstandin’ businessman. You don’t need no cuffs.”

The chief grabbed Delgado’s arm and pulled him
toward the stairs. “Watch your step. We wouldn’t want you to fall and break
your neck. We’re looking forward to providing hospitality to our distinguished
guest in the town jail.”

***

Alex punched Maggie’s number into
his cell phone as soon as he and the chief were back in the patrol car. “He’s
in custody,” he said as soon as Maggie answered.

“Thank goodness. I was getting worried that
something had gone wrong. It’s almost ten.”

“Delgado had a visitor last night, and the chief
thought it best to wait for her to leave.”

“So you didn’t pick him up at his home?”

“Nope. At the liquor store.”

“Did anyone see him being taken away?”

“There weren’t any customers at this time of day,
but the clerk noticed and was on his phone before we got to the car.”

“He’ll spread the news, and I’m sure it’ll be no
time before it gets to the highest levels within the mob.”

“I suspect you’re right about that. I wouldn’t be
surprised if Delgado’s lawyer isn’t waiting for him at the station.”

Maggie remained silent, digesting this news. “That
might not be the worst thing, you know.”

“How so?”

“If he won’t talk, the next best thing is for him
to do something stupid. He can’t do something stupid if he isn’t out on bail.”

Alex laughed. “You’re right about that. You always
find the silver lining in any black cloud, don’t you?”

“I don’t always succeed, but I try.” She took a
deep breath. “Keep me posted. I’m in my office at Town Hall and will stay here.
Our phones will light up shortly, and the press will be all over this.”

“I’ll stay with Delgado until he’s in a cell. I’ll
call you when he’s booked. Why don’t you schedule a press conference for three
this afternoon? We can make the announcement together. That’ll give the
receptionist something to tell callers.”

“Will do.”

“I’ll come to your office by two thirty.”

“Perfect. And Alex—well done. You should be
really proud of yourself.”

“I’m proud of us. We make a great team.”

Maggie leaned back in her chair as she ended the
call. Alex was right—they made a great team. What had started as a small
group of concerned citizens tackling corruption at Town Hall could end up
taking down part of the Chicago mob. With any luck, pairing her expertise as a
forensic accountant with Alex’s experience as a prosecutor would prove the
undoing of those who stole so much from the people of Westbury.

She shook her head. It hadn’t been that long ago that
she was alone and dealing with the mess left by her philandering, embezzling
late husband. And now she was married to the love of her life, mayor of this
town, and living at Rosemont.
Never discount the possibility of a happy
future,
she thought.