Weaving the Strands (20 page)

***

Loretta spent the rest of the day
unsuccessfully trying to focus on month-end revenue reports. She’d have to
think carefully about what to do with the information she’d uncovered. It was
like a little savings account, she decided; something to hold onto until the
perfect moment. She smiled to herself—she was a clever girl. And with all
of the commotion in his office from the paramedics, Frank Haynes would never
notice that anything had been disturbed. She couldn’t have planned it better
herself.

She was deep in thought staring at her computer
screen when the door to Haynes Enterprises opened behind her. She turned and
suppressed a tremor as Chuck Delgado swaggered into the reception area. Hiding
her repugnance, she settled a serious expression on her face.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Delgado,” she said, adopting
a formal tone.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he replied, undressing her
with his eyes.

“Mr. Haynes is still in the hospital. He’s doing
much better. If you need to talk to him, you can see him there,” she supplied,
hoping to get rid of him.

“I heard. I’m not after Frankie. I told him I’d
look in on you while he was out. Like I said yesterday, keeping an eye on you
is pure pleasure.” Delgado moved around her desk to stand behind her chair. She
tried to get up, but he had her blocked.

“That’s not necessary,” she replied, trying to
keep the note of panic out of her voice. She would not give this creep the
satisfaction of knowing he was scaring her. “Everything here is going fine. In
fact, I was just getting ready to make the bank deposit.”

Delgado pressed himself against the back of her
chair and began to massage her shoulders.

“You’re all tense here,” he crooned. “You’re
letting this job get to you. That’s not good for a pretty girl like you. Let me
help you relax,” he said. He slid his hands down her shoulders and onto the
softness at the top of her breasts, simultaneously releasing the top three
buttons of her blouse.

“Hey,” Loretta cried, grabbing his hands and
thrusting them aside. “That’s not okay.”

She shoved her chair back hard, knocking him off
balance. Scrambling to her feet, she headed for the door. Delgado recovered
himself and came after her.

“You little bitch,” he began, but stopped abruptly
as Frank Haynes strode into the office.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Haynes asked,
eyeing them both closely.

“Nothin’, Frankie. I was just lookin’ in on
things, like you asked.” Delgado said, shooting Loretta a warning glance.
“You’re outta the hospital,” he added, stating the obvious. “How ya feelin’?”

“Just fine, thank you, Charles. Wanted to make
sure everything was okay before I go home. If you’ll excuse us, we need to get
back to work.”

“Sure. Glad you’re doin’ good.”

Delgado reached for the door and turned to
Loretta. “I’ll see you later,” he said pointedly.

Haynes turned his steely gaze toward Loretta,
noting her rumpled blouse unbuttoned halfway down the front.

Loretta turned toward her desk and discretely
attempted to repair her disheveled appearance.

“Looks like you and Mr. Delgado were having fun
until I came in,” Haynes stated coldly.

“No. It wasn’t like that at all. He was forcing himself
on me. I was trying to get away from him. I’m so glad you came in,” she replied
firmly. “I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Delgado fancies himself the playboy. If you
hadn’t been flirting with him, I’m sure nothing would have happened,” her boss
replied derisively.

Loretta stared, aghast. Was he taking that creep’s
side in this? She opened her mouth to protest further but Haynes raised his
hand to stop her.

“I don’t have time to listen to all this petty
drama now,” he stated dismissively. “Have you made today’s bank deposit yet?”
he asked, checking his watch.

“No. I was just about to do that.”

“Then be on your way. And you can go on home after
that,” he said. “You’ve evidently had a hard afternoon. Just give me back my
keys.”

Loretta straightened and picked up her purse.
“Okay,” she said. “Will you be all right here by yourself? Did they tell you
that you could leave the hospital and come to work? I can come back after I go
to the bank.”

Her concern with his welfare paled next to her
worry about what he might uncover if left alone in the office. She wanted to be
there to gauge his reactions now that he was back.

“Thank you,” he said without looking at her as he
entered his office. “Not necessary. I’m perfectly fine.”

She came to stand in the doorway of his office. He
pushed paperwork aside and sat in his chair. “The paramedics sure made a mess
in here,” he growled.

He looked up at her. “Well?”

“They were concerned about you,” she answered.
“And I didn’t straighten things up because I know you don’t want me in your office.”

“Just give me my keys and get out of here.”

Loretta crossed to his desk. She wanted to throw
them at the arrogant bastard, but she didn’t dare. She held them out to him,
and when he gestured to leave them, she placed them on the corner of his desk.
He barely noticed, already tearing into unopened mail. Apparently he hadn’t
detected anything out of order.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, willing her voice
not to reflect the relief she felt.

Haynes nodded distractedly and she was off.

Chapter 44

Maggie took one last look over
Westbury’s November financial statements and leaned back in her chair,
encouraged by the results. The town wasn’t exactly operating in the black, but
it certainly wasn’t hemorrhaging money like it had been for the past year. It’d
be nice to share some good news for a change. She reached for her phone and
dialed Professor Upton. He deserved a lot of the credit for the reversal; he
should be the first to know.

“Don,” Maggie burst out as soon as he picked up.
“It’s Maggie. Good news here. The November financials show the town is operating
almost at break even.”

“That’s fabulous, Maggie. Are you sure?”

“As far as I can tell,” Maggie assured him. “I’ve
poured over the books.”

“Good for you. But don’t forget, November and
December will show increased seasonal revenue. What about January and February?”

Maggie sighed heavily. “You’re right. Westbury
will run in the red both of those months. This is just a transitory blip. But
it’s a good sign.”

“I don’t disagree. I’m not trying to be a joy
kill. But you’ve still got a tremendous task ahead of you, Maggie.”

“I know that; it’s on my mind every second of
every day.”

“Things getting any better for you down there? Has
the press lightened up? Are you getting any support from anyone?”

Maggie laughed mirthlessly. “No, it’s still a
parade of horribles everywhere I turn.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Maggie. You didn’t ask
for this; maybe you shouldn’t put up with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been debating whether to offer this to you
or not. If you were still a consultant, I would have.” He paused to take a swig
of his coffee. “I’ve been working on a fraud investigation involving a large
utility company in California. I’m going to testify as an expert witness and my
client would like to hire an additional expert. They’ve asked me to find
someone. You would be perfect.”

“I can’t do that while I’m serving as mayor,”
Maggie answered hastily.

“I know. That’s why I hadn’t asked you. I’m
mentioning it now because I think you should consider resigning and taking this
engagement.”

“That’s ridiculous, Don. I can’t just up and
quit.”

“Hear me out, Maggie. This assignment would
require a tremendous amount of time, but the client is paying top dollar. You’d
make more on this in one year than you’d make in ten years as mayor of
Westbury. Think of that, Maggie. You could retire when you were done.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath. Encouraged,
he continued. “These opportunities only come around once in a career. And you’d
have to travel to California on a regular basis, so you could see your family.
You’ve told me that you miss them and you’ve been too busy to keep your promise
to visit. This could be the right job at the right time, Maggie. You know that
being mayor isn’t something you ever wanted. Surely there are others who can
step in and do the job.”

They remained silent while Maggie searched for
words. What should she say? What did she want to say?

“Promise me you’ll think it over carefully,
Maggie. Don’t turn this down out of some misguided loyalty to Westbury. The
good citizens don’t sound like they are being very loyal to you.”

Maggie found her voice. “All right,” she said
slowly. “I’ll consider it.”

“Good. I’ll send you some of the materials to
review; you’ll find this case fascinating.”

“Sounds good. I’ll take a look at them. And I’ll
really think about it. And Don, thank you. I appreciate your offer.”

Chapter 45

Over the next two weeks, John and
Maggie spent almost every free moment together. She and John talked about going
skating again, but never found the time. When they weren’t arranging furniture
for the upcoming tea party, they were addressing invitations, running errands,
and Christmas shopping. Maggie silently marveled at the joy of working on these
projects with a partner; Paul had never lifted a finger to help her with any of
the parties she had thrown for his benefit. Most of John and Maggie’s nights
ended with them drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

At final count, Maggie had invited over one
hundred twenty people to “High Tea at Rosemont,” as the invitation called it.
Of that number, only seven declined. Sunday would be a busy day.

“As I predicted, this is the hot ticket of the
season,” John remarked the evening before the event. Maggie sagged into his
embrace as they stood at the bottom of the stairs, surveying the living room
and library. Both rooms had been transformed into tearooms, with clusters of
tables decked out in Maggie’s collections of vintage linen and china.
Centerpieces of ivy, white tulips, and red roses splashed color across the
space. Expectation hung in the air. Illuminated by the towering Christmas tree,
the scene resembled a festive watercolor.

“I don’t know what I would have done without you,”
Maggie said looking up at him.

John shrugged.

“No, really. I bit off way more than I could chew.
If you hadn’t helped me, I’d still be ironing those blasted tablecloths.” She
laughed. “Where in the world did you learn to iron like that?”

“My mother thought it was a useful skill every man
should master. I sew on a mean button, too.”

“Wise woman, your mother. I would’ve liked her.”

John regarded her seriously. “She would’ve adored
you. You share a lot of the same fine qualities.”

Maggie drew her arms tighter around him and
snuggled in. “I believe we’re all set. Not another thing to do until tomorrow.
The night is still young—any idea how you’d like to spend it?” she asked
with a twinkle in her eye.

***

Sunday arrived, cold and gray. Snow
was predicted that night and clouds blocked the sun. The inclement weather only
served to accent Rosemont’s charm and coziness. The fireplaces and candles were
lit, the Christmas tree sparkled.

Sam and Joan Torres arrived right after church,
insisting that Maggie put them to work. Maggie sent Sam and John to tend the
fires and whip up the first batch of Pink Lady cocktails—the only
alcoholic beverage on the menu—while she and Joan set out the tea cakes,
scones, and finger sandwiches, and brewed vast quantities of tea.

Although the invitation stated that this would be
an open house with tea served from two until five o’clock, all but a few
stragglers had arrived by two fifteen. High-spirited laughter filled the house
as people visited the buffet and Maggie, Joan, and Nancy Knudsen restocked the
trays and ferried hot tea into the dining room.

Maggie was on her way back into the kitchen when
someone tapped her shoulder from behind. She turned to face a beaming Judy
Young, flanked by Tonya Holmes.

“Turn right around and fix yourself a plate,” Judy
ordered. “If we don’t force your hand, you won’t get a bite to eat at your own
party.”

Maggie laughed and shook her head in protest.

Tonya stepped in. “Judy’s right. We’ve got it from
here. Get a cup of tea and go enjoy your guests. Besides,” she added with a
malevolent twinkle in her eye, “you need to check out Frank Haynes and Mr. and
Mrs. Delgado. They’re sitting in the far corner of the library.”

“You’re kidding. They RSVP’d, but I didn’t think
they’d actually show up.”

“The Mrs. is loving it. I overheard Chuck ask John
if there was any real booze around the place—not just that ‘girlie
drink.’ And Frank’s examining Rosemont as if he were an appraiser. It’s
Christmas; I shouldn’t be so catty. But those two are definitely odd.”

“You’ve got me there; that’s a sight I want to
see,” Maggie said. “Everything you’ll need is out on the counters. I won’t be
more than a few minutes.”

“Take your time and enjoy yourself,” Judy
reiterated.

Maggie selected a buttermilk scone and lemon bar,
filled a cup with fragrant white tea, and made her way into the party. She
crossed the living room, greeting her guests and exchanging pleasantries as
quickly as politeness would allow. Her destination was the library, more
particularly the Delgado-Haynes table. Taking a deep breath, she approached, setting
her cup on the table and drawing up a chair.

“May I join you? I don’t believe we’ve met,” she
said, extending her hand to Bertha Delgado.

“Lovely place you got here, ma’am,” Mrs. Delgado
gushed, rocking the table and sending tea sloshing into saucers as she stood to
take Maggie’s hand. “So Christmas-y and all.”

“Thank you,” Maggie replied simply. “Please, sit.”

“I can’t get Chuck to hang so much as a single
strand of lights from the eves,” she continued, shooting her husband a
reproachful look. Delgado turned aside and fixed his gaze on the swirling snow
outside the window. “No. It’s all on me.” She sighed heavily. “How on earth did
you get this done by yourself? I can’t imagine.”

“Oh, I had plenty of assistance.” Maggie assured
her.

“Who do you use? I’d like to have his name, since
I get no cooperation from this one,” she said, gesturing to her husband with
her elbow.

“Actually, my friend John Allen pitched in.”

“Ahhh,” Bertha replied, intrigued. “That’s not the
usual service you get from a vet. How do you know Dr. Allen?”

“I met him when I adopted a dog—or, rather
when she adopted me during my first week in Westbury. John’s our vet.”

Bertha raised one brow quizzically. Maggie took a
breath and continued. “We started seeing each other, took a break, and got
re-matched through an online dating service.”

“Now
that
is very nice. He’s quite the
looker isn’t he? Quite a catch. He’s been the most eligible bachelor in town
for years.”

Bertha noticed Haynes’ grimace out of the corner
of her eye. “Right behind our Frank, here,” she quickly added, tapping his
knee. “Which online dating service? Maybe Frank should try it, unless he’s a
confirmed bachelor.” She nodded at Frank. “Too successful to want to share any
of it with someone else?”

Haynes turned away in disgust. “Give it a rest, Bertha.
Nobody cares,” Delgado said.

Maggie cleared her throat.

“So, which online dating service?” Bertha
repeated.

“DogLovers.com,” Maggie replied. “As a matter of
fact, I was DogLover7717 and John was DogLover7718. We got a big kick out of
that,” she said to fill the awkward silence.

Haynes lost his grip on his empty plate and it
clattered to the carpet. He rose quickly, picked it up, and fished his fork out
from under Bertha’s chair. “Nice spread, Maggie. I think I’ll go back for seconds.
Will you excuse me?” he asked before walking stiffly away.

“Now you’ve done it, Bertha,” Delgado exclaimed.
“You’ve pissed him off. That’s the last thing I need.”

Bertha smiled uneasily. Maggie could taste the
tension at the table. She took a quick bite of her lemon bar and scanned the
room for an out. At the far side of the fireplace she spotted Glenn and Gloria
at a small table. Gloria glanced in her direction and waved. Seizing the
opportunity, Maggie rose.

“I’d better go mingle with my guests. Don’t get
up,” she said to Bertha. “Please help yourselves to more of everything,” she
added, gesturing toward the dining room. She turned to leave. “And have a very
Merry Christmas.”

Maggie made her way to Glenn and Gloria as quickly
as possible while balancing a full cup of tea. She always felt vaguely sleazy
during an encounter with Chuck Delgado, and his wife didn’t do anything to minimize
that effect. She needed the warmth and goodness of this older couple.

Glenn stood and pulled out her chair. Gloria took
Maggie’s hand in her own as she sat down. “My dear, Rosemont is a lovely home,
but you’ve transformed it with your efforts. It’s absolutely stunning. Everything’s
perfect.”

Glenn nodded his agreement. “We’ve been combining
our households since we got married,” he said, shooting Gloria an adoring
glance. “So we decided we wouldn’t bother with a Christmas tree this year.
Looking at all this, we’ve decided we’re wrong on that score. We’ll be stopping
on the way home to pick one up.”

“Just a small one,” Gloria rushed to add, giving
Glenn a stern look. “Tabletop size only.”

Glenn rolled his eyes and Maggie laughed. “Sounds
like a wonderful idea. You’ve got to have a tree for your first Christmas as
husband and wife.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Glenn chimed in.
“But until we came here and saw your tree, Gloria wasn’t having it.”

“You know, I didn’t plan to put up a tree or any
decorations this year, either,” Maggie stated. They looked at her
incredulously. “I was going to spend Christmas with my children and
grandchildren in California. I didn’t see the point of decorating this year.”

“So what changed your mind? Who convinced you to
do all this?” Glenn asked.

“My family was here for Thanksgiving and found
boxes and boxes of vintage decorations in the attic; most of what you see here.
My daughter was the ringleader; she decided that we should drag everything out
of the attic, get a tree, and decorate Rosemont. There were lots of people to
help, and one thing led to another. You know how that goes.”

They both nodded in unison.

“By the time they went back to California, all of
this was done.”

“How wonderful!” Gloria exclaimed. Her gaze swept
the room. “It’ll be a big job taking it all down. We can’t get up on ladders anymore,
but we could help you wrap and pack things back up.”

Maggie smiled and rubbed Gloria’s hand. “What a
nice offer. You’re right; this will be a lot of work to take down. I considered
that when we were decorating. My family was having such fun, I didn’t have the
heart to be a wet blanket. We moms get ourselves into hot water that way, don’t
we?” she asked, turning to Gloria with a smile.

“We most certainly do. For better or worse, if my
family wanted something, I’d usually find a way.”

“Exactly. But the most unexpected thing happened.
My kids—even my granddaughters—decided that they’d rather come back
to Rosemont for Christmas than have me go out to California. So I get to host
them all again.”

“How wonderful! I can see why they’d want to come
back,” Glenn said.

“Be sure they help you put all this away,” Gloria
admonished.

Glenn turned to Maggie. “Did I see Frank Haynes
over by the French doors? I want to wish him a very happy holiday and invite
him to join us for dinner some evening when he’s available—to thank him.”

Maggie smiled. “I’m sure he’d like that. He just
went to get something from the buffet. He’ll be back any minute,” she replied.
“Now, I should check on things in the kitchen. We’ll talk before you leave. And
do get yourself a Christmas tree. I’d be sorry if I hadn’t.”

***

Frank Haynes scanned the buffet table,
but he’d apparently lost his appetite. So Maggie was the one woman online who
had interested him? She was DogLover7717, the woman who had cancelled their
coffee date?
Didn’t that just figure,
he fumed. And now she was involved,
again, with the good doctor.

He halted at the base of the staircase and thought
of the night he’d rescued her from the attic.
What was it she’d called him?
Her white knight?
He flushed as he remembered the feeling of her body stumbling
into him; of his arms around her shoulders, steadying her. Then he cursed
himself for thinking there’d ever be anything between them.

Suddenly another memory surfaced, the folder
labeled
F.H./Rosemont
, and Frank Haynes smiled his Grinch Who Stole
Christmas grin. He knew what he had to do. He glanced swiftly over his shoulder.
When he was sure no one was paying any attention to him, he ascended the
stairs.

***

By late afternoon, Maggie’s guests
had had their fill of teacakes and scones. Still, no one made a move for the
door. Instead, people lingered and relaxed. Maggie was headed toward the
kitchen when John intercepted her and pulled her through the back door onto the
porch.

“What are you doing? It’s freezing out here,” she
cried.

John wrapped his arms around her. “Better?” he
asked. “I’ve watched you flit around all afternoon. I wanted a moment with you
by myself,” he smiled down at her.

“Since you put it like that, fine.” She placed her
arms around his neck and they kissed, gently swaying like teenagers at a school
dance.

When they finished, Maggie rested her head on his
shoulder. “This has been nice. I think everyone’s had a good time.”

“Are you kidding? It’ll be the talk of the town
for the next year. Judy’s been snapping photos like mad. She’s probably already
posted them to Facebook.”

“Really? That’ll be good. I didn’t even think of
taking pictures. I’ll send them to Susan and Amy. And the twins. They’ll think
this is pretty neat.”

Maggie shivered.

“This will have to hold me for a while,” John
said. “Let’s get you back inside.”

As they entered through the kitchen door, they
heard the first strains of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” coming from the
grand piano in the conservatory.

“Music!” Maggie cried, slapping her forehead with
her palm. “I completely forgot about music!”

“Looks like someone else thought of it,” John
observed. “I’ll bet that’s Marc playing.”

The melody, skillfully played, filled the air.
“Must be,” Maggie agreed. “I don’t know anyone else who plays like he does.”

As they made their way to the conservatory, they
heard the first, tentative voices take up the chorus. By the time they entered
the room, a large group surrounded Marc at the piano. Clearly delighted, he
stood at the end of the tune and waved his arm for silence.