Drawing Close: The Fourth Novel in the Rosemont Series by Barbara Hinske Page A

hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He’d indulge himself in a pricey meal
at one of the city’s fine restaurants and check on Haynes Enterprises tomorrow.
    ***
    Loretta hurried up the steps to
Haynes Enterprises and quickly assembled the day’s bank deposit. She had just
locked the door when the phone started ringing. If it were important, they’d
leave a message or call back. She continued on her mission and arrived at the
bank at closing time. She could see the head teller approach the glass entry
door, keys in hand. She gave him her biggest smile.
    The teller hesitated, then swung the door open and
held it for her. “Cutting it pretty close today, aren’t we?” he said.
    “My daughter’s been sick, and I’ve gotten behind,”
she said as she hurried past him.
    “Frank Haynes could make the deposit,” he observed
as he ushered her to his teller station. She began unbundling the deposit.
    “He’s out of town and left me in charge,” she
replied. “I want to do a really good job. Thank you for waiting for me,” she
said, glancing behind him at the clock on the wall that displayed the time,
five minutes after five. She smiled at him again.
    The teller looked down quickly. “That’s okay,” he
said. “We can do that for our favorite customers.”
    ***
    “She’s out like a light,” Mrs.
Walters said quietly as she opened the door later that night and led Loretta to
the sleeping child.
    Loretta scooped up Nicole and carried her to the
car. The sitter helped nestle Nicole into her booster seat. “I’m always amazed
at how soundly children can sleep,” she said. “Envious, actually.”
    “That’s for sure,” Loretta agreed. “I’ll see you
in the morning.”
    “Why don’t you sleep in a bit?” she suggested.
    “Nope. Tomorrow will be a busy day. I may even try
to get in early.”
    Fifteen minutes later, Loretta laid Nicole gently
into bed and curled up next to her. She placed her hand on her daughter’s
forehead. Her skin felt cool. Loretta drifted off to sleep, listening to the
peaceful rhythm of her daughter’s breathing.

Chapter 19
    Frank Haynes entered the sleek
reception area of the prestigious New York City law firm of Hirim &
Wilkens. Unlike his first visit to the firm, he was escorted directly back to
the office of his attorney, Simon Wilkens.
    “Mr. Haynes,” Wilkens said, coming around his desk
with an outstretched hand. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Or something
stronger? It seems you have something to celebrate.”
    Haynes shook his hand and took a seat in one of
the client chairs.
    “I’ve been anxiously awaiting this affidavit from
the mysterious attorney,” Wilkens said.
    Haynes nodded and took an envelope out of his
attaché case, sliding it across the desk. He sat back and waited while Wilkens
studied the document. When the attorney was finished, he looked up and smiled
broadly at Haynes.
    “This should do it. It’ll be more than enough.”
    “No glitches? No qualifications?”
    “Well … not necessarily.” Wilkens hedged his bets.
“How hard do you think this Martin woman will fight? Does she have the money to
wage war with you?”
    It was now Haynes’ turn to smile. “She’ll fight
it. She’s been around litigation as an expert witness, so she knows the ropes.
But I’ve got a war chest and she’s got a piggy bank.”
    “Doesn’t sound like a fair fight.” Wilkens
smirked.
    “What could they do to challenge this?” Haynes
asked, pointing to the document lying on the desk between them.
    “Question its validity. Authenticity of the
signature or his mental capacity at the time he signed it. You said he was very
ill when he wrote this. Undergoing chemotherapy?”
    Haynes nodded. “Could they say that he wasn’t in
his right mind?”
    “They can try. If this gets heated, they most
certainly will allege that this isn’t credible—that it shouldn’t be
admitted into evidence because Spenser is dead and they can’t cross examine
him.”
    “How do we