by Becki Willis
She could practically see the gears working in Travis’s mind. “If they think you have valuable information, why haven’t they ransacked your apartment? Why your hotel room?”
“Maybe they don’t realize I have the information. Maybe they really do mean to use me to get to my father, thinking he still has the envelope.”
“What’s in this envelope?”
Instead of answering, Kenzie stood and walked over to her camera case. She had left the bag on the small couch snuggled into one corner of the room. Taking out the tattered envelope, she opened it and spread its contents out on the coffee table.
Travis took a seat beside her on the couch as he surveyed the envelope’s burden. He picked up the first few sheets of paper, the one with nothing but columns of numbers. Worry darkened his eyes as he glanced up at her. “You do know what this is, don’t you?”
Kenzie nodded. “Proof of transactions. Dates, account numbers, money amounts.”
His quietly spoken words sent a chill down her spine. “The kind of evidence the mafia kills for.”
Kenzie tented her hands over her mouth, pinching her lips with worry. “Yes,” she acknowledged.
He set the lists aside and reached for the paper bearing the Modern Power letterhead. “This looks like the companies that made up Modern Power. Half of these are no longer in business, if they ever were. Many of them, like this Airlight, were nothing but a sham. The rest are legitimate companies, like NorthWind. This one, Lincoln Lighting, was investigated for fraud, but nothing was ever proved.” He studied the list a moment longer, before picking up the contract. He scanned its contents. “I’ll have to study this better, but it looks like this is the contract that awarded NorthWind rights to build all those wind farms, primarily in New Hampshire and Maine. This even outlines how the Department of Energy would buy some of them back from NorthWind once completed.”
“Does that mention how they were using grants from the government to build them in the first place?” When he sent her a sharp look, Kenzie continued to enlighten him. “Or that until this contract was awarded, NorthWind existed only on paper? The government not only gave them money upfront to build the wind farms, they paid to buy them back before they were even completed. Modern Power used the money to build the company, compliments of the taxpayers.”
Travis’s eyes widened at the news, then narrowed in speculation. “How do you know this? Did your father tell you about this?”
“Of course not!” Her indignation was short lived. Puffing out a long sigh, she admitted wearily, “But apparently my father was a brilliant man. He figured out a way to scam the government by creating all these shell corporations and using government funds to build them and turn them legitimate. Makenna discovered it when she was pretending to be me in New Hampshire.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone?”
She bristled at the volume of his outburst. “No. There was no proof. Nothing on paper, unless you’re holding it in your hands.”
He looked back down at the documents. After scanning over them again, he shook his head wearily and set the contract down without a word, reaching for the next paper. “These look like names, written in code.”
“That’s what I thought. You don’t happen to have a code detector on you, do you?” she joked.
“No, but it can be cracked. See these small marks underneath some of the letters? Somewhere there is another document with the same marks. Find the key, crack the code.”
“Speaking of keys…” She told him the story of the key hidden within Makenna’s baby quilt. Instead of looking surprised, he looked angry.
“Hardin told me about the key,” he informed her coldly. “What I want to know is why you didn’t.”
Kenzie’s anger flared. “Why didn’t I? Because until our telephone conversation last night, you’d not said one nice word to me, ever! Not one! And you expect me to just call you up and share a piece of my past with you?”
“Not a piece of your past. An important piece of information, a clue to what the mafia is after.”
“You and your Ranger friends told me they were after my father,” she reminded him smugly.
“There has to be something more. Your old man doesn’t have to return to New Hampshire to claim his ill-gotten riches.”
The steam of her anger slowly evaporated. “That’s what I thought, too,” she agreed quietly. “There has to be something more, and I think it’s inside that envelope.”
“This last list is of towns with a single name beside them. Any idea what that’s about?”
“No, but something about the towns sound familiar. Read them off to me.”
She closed her eyes as he scanned the list and recited the names of towns. “San Antonio, Texas. Monroe, Louisiana. Denver, Colorado. Douglas, Wyoming. Cedar City, Utah. Chicago, Illinois. Shelbyville, Illinois.” She shook her head when nothing rang a bell. She concentrated on why the list had stirred a memory the first time she saw it. “Paducah, Kentucky. Dumas, Arkansas. Destin, Florida. Nashville, Tennessee. Canton, Mississippi. Fayette-”
“Those are places we lived!” she broke in.
“All of them?”
She ignored the incredulous look on his face. At least it was not pity she saw; she was feeling enough of it without his help. “I don’t remember them all, but I recognize enough of them to know that’s what they are. San Antonio was where they left Makenna.” She nearly choked on the words and the heartache they brought. “I remember living here in Colorado when I was about five. I loved to visit Red Rocks. I vaguely remember Wyoming. I hated Chicago. I had a best friend in Arkansas.” Her voice betrayed the pain of leaving her friend behind. “We were living in Fayetteville, North Carolina when I escaped.”
He inhaled sharply, stiffening beside her. “Escaped?” A look of horror crossed his handsome face. “They didn’t –”
“No, no, nothing like that,” she assured him hastily. “But that’s how I think of it. I escaped the mad cycle of their lifestyle.” To her chagrin, tears misted her eyes. “They were always moving, always changing names. At first, I pretended they were movie stars, just trying to live a normal life without all the cameras and fame. But our life was anything but normal.” A tear slid down her cheek and she gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” But once started, the words poured forth like her tears.
Travis put an awkward arm around her and listened without interruption.
“As I got a little older, I pretended they were spies for the government, carrying out top secret missions. They were national heroes and one day we would all be invited to the White House to get some fabulous medal. Even me.” She gave a derisive laugh at her own foolishness. “But by the time I was eleven or so, I knew something wasn’t right. No one lived the way we did. Twice, they made me pretend I was a boy! Who does that to their child?” When her tears fell harder, Travis gathered her close and let her cry.
After a moment, she brushed the tears away and continued. “I knew I had to get away. I knew I had to escape, or I would become just like them. The day after I graduated from high school, I left without even telling my father goodbye.” She tried to hide the regret that crept into her words. Despite all the man had put her through and despite everything she now knew about her father, she still regretted not saying goodbye. “I don’t understand why that still bothers me.”
“He is your father,” Travis said. The understanding in his tone surprised her. “It’s only natural that you love him, in spite of everything.”
“I know this makes me sound like a terrible person, but I don’t think that’s it,” she admitted.
“Maybe it’s because without goodbye, there’s no closure.”
She stared up at him, marveling at his sage observation. “I-I really don’t know why I just told you all that,” she murmured. She felt suddenly exposed.
Travis brushed away a lingering tear with the pad of his thumb and offered a crooked smile. “Maybe because I finally had the good
sense to speak a few nice words to you.”
An answering smile curved Kenzie’s lips. “Maybe so,” she agreed, bumping his shoulder with hers. When his gaze landed on her mouth, she thought he was going to kiss her again. The moment lingered deliciously, until finally he pulled away and made an obvious effort to get back on target.
“So, that’s all that was in the envelope?”
“Yes,” she murmured, choking down disappointment of the lost kiss. “Wait, what? No. Where’s the film canister?” She shook her head to clear it as she got up and searched the bottom of her camera bag. “Oh, good,” she breathed in relief, pulling out the roll of film. “There was also this roll of film and my letter.”
Travis took the film from her hand and studied it, as if he could see the images inside with his naked eye. “I’ll get this to the lab and see what secrets develop.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“What do you mean?” he asked sharply.
“Right now, no one knows I have this, not- not even Makenna.” She paced the room as she tried to explain her reluctance. “The more people who know about this, the more danger she and I will both be in. Right now, I have some sort of control over my life. Once the Rangers and the FBI and God knows who else gets involved, I- I may not have that control anymore. I didn’t like being under police protection the first time round, Travis. This time would be even worse.”
“But this is evidence, Kenzie.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s a roll of pictures from my childhood. Maybe there was one happy day in my childhood, a day worth capturing on film.” Even as she made the ludicrous suggestion, her voice cracked. There had been no such day. That fact was more heartbreaking and frightening than any link to the mafia.
She didn’t even know he was off the couch, until he pulled her into his arms. “Aw, darlin’, don’t. Don’t do this to yourself.”
“I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m usually not a crier.” This, as she sobbed into the front of his t-shirt, still exposed by his unbuttoned denim shirt.
“I don’t mind,” he told her, holding her close. He pressed a kiss into the top of her dark curls and held her as she quieted. After a long moment, he admitted, “I understand, you know. It was the same for me.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her heart ached for him, knowing his childhood had been as miserable as hers had.
They held each other for a long while, sharing and absorbing past pains. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a connection that defied words. It swelled and filled a deep, empty void in both their souls.
They finally pulled apart and returned to the couch, sitting just a little closer than before. Their legs were touching as they looked once more at the envelope’s contents.
“I wonder when this list of towns was made,” Kenzie pondered aloud. “It looks as old as the others, but how could it be? Those were written in ’91. We moved to Fayetteville in ’03 or ’04.”
“Unless your father had his future already mapped out. Maybe that’s what the names and numbers are. Contacts in the area. Maybe he set up an identity in each town, had it waiting for him when he needed it.”
“That would explain how he was always able to find a job and a place to live and create our new identities so easily. It would also explain why my mother was so upset the time I insisted on choosing my own name.”
“Which was?”
“Felicity.”
“Felicity?”
Kenzie grinned at his expression. “Hey, I named myself after my favorite television show. I was eleven. What did I know?”
“I doubt that made the list of pre-approved names,” he agreed with a rare mischievous grin.
Kenzie could not help the words that slipped out of her mouth. Staring at his lips, she murmured, “You are such a handsome man. But, good lord, when you smile…. Why don’t you do it more often?”
She heard him suck in a sharp breath, saw his eyes drift down to her own mouth. There was such yearning in his gaze that she felt sure he would kiss her this time. But once again, he pulled his thoughts together with obvious effort and re-directed the conversation.
He did, however, lean into her just a little more, his muscled arm pressed close against hers as he asked, “Your letter?”
It irritated her that he could just pick up on a conversation from ten minutes ago, when her senses were still swarming and her heart was rattling like a wind-up toy. If nothing else, the man was a true professional and definitely determined. She knew that was what made him a good lawman, but didn’t he share these same feelings barging their way through her soul? They had bonded a few moments ago, and she knew he found her desirable; he had been holding her too closely to hide that fact. How could he be content to keep her an arm’s length away?
Instead of showing her frustration, Kenzie tried to follow his lead. If he could pretend he wasn’t affected by their proximity, she could do the same. “Yes, my mother left me a letter. A very strange letter, written in some kind of code. I know what some of it means, but the rest of it has me totally lost.” She handed him the envelope, nodding to the flourishing handwriting on the front. “I think this is some sort of clue, too. That’s not her usual handwriting and she never called me darling.”
Travis eyed the envelope for a moment before taking the letter from inside. He looked up after the first line. “Charlie?”
“My first alias. If the mafia was looking for a family with twin daughters, they would ignore a family with one son.” Her words were more matter-of-fact than pained. “And I think it’s another clue, letting me know a location. We lived in Denver while I was Charlie, and the rocks she refers to are the ones we just left.”
“Is that why you went there?”
“No, I didn’t discover this letter until last night, and I really was on assignment. But I do remember going there as a child. I think my mother was telling me that she hid a key on Ship Rock.”
“Did you look for it?”
Kenzie shook her head with a hopeless expression on her face. “How could I? It would be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack, but these stacks are made of stone. But look at that line. ‘Luckily, it was a duplicate.’ I think she was telling me she had another key hidden somewhere else, so don’t worry if I didn’t find this one.”
“Makenna’s baby blanket?”
She nodded. “I’m sure of it.”
Travis read more of the letter. “Join you? What is she talking about here? ‘If I don’t get to join you, it’s not because I don’t want to. Please know that. But things don’t always work out as originally planned. If I’m not there, please know that I will think of you every single day and miss you Two times as much!’ The word ‘two’ is capitalized, so I’m assuming it means both you and your sister. So why is the letter written only to you? Did your mother go away for a while?”
“Not that I ever remember. It’s either another clue or she did leave at some point. I have no idea.”
“So what’s all this about your Aunt Ester and your cousins? Where do they live?”
“Beats me. I’ve never heard of them before, and I certainly don’t recall ever visiting them or playing with them. It’s got to be some sort of clue, but I haven’t the faintest idea of what.”
Travis re-read the paragraph, trying to make sense of it. “It must have been someone you knew in Denver, or shortly after. These names don’t sound familiar?”
“I’ve never heard any of them. The only person I remember from Denver was my friend Joey. I think his last name was LaCross or LaRue, something with a French sound. I have no idea who that Clark person is. It wasn’t even an alias that I remember. Although I have to admit, I’ve forgotten some of them.”
“Where did you move to when you left Denver?”
Kenzie rubbed her forehead. “You know, I usually do my best to forget my past, not to deliberately remember it. But let’s see… we moved to a house, I think, because I got to have my very fi
rst pet, a little white kitten I named Powder Puff. PP for short.” She grinned and explained, “A hangover from my days as a little boy. I thought it was hilarious that I got to go around hollering ‘pee pee’ without getting in trouble for it. Anyway, I think it was in … Wyoming.” She scanned the list of cities included in the manila envelope. “Yes, Douglas, Wyoming.”
“So this Ester person is most likely someone from either Denver or Douglas. But you don’t think she’s your aunt?”
“I don’t remember having any relatives, even before we went on the run. Then again, I don’t even remember having a sister.”
He heard the sadness in her voice and moved to place his arm around her shoulders. Absently rubbing his cheek against her curls, he kept focused. “I doubt it was really an aunt. Since everything else is in some sort of code, I’m guessing this is, as well.”
“And look at the last couple of paragraphs. ‘Always dream, always imagine. Always search.’ My mother didn’t talk like that. She was cold and detached, a real no-nonsense kind of person. If she ever had a dream in her life, it froze to death, right along with her heart.” She didn’t even try to hide the bitterness in her voice. “And ‘Go out and save the world, my child!’? She more than likely wanted me to save her rear end. She never struck me as the kind to care about the world or anyone in it but herself.”
“I’m sorry,” he said simply, brushing the sentiment into her hair with his lips. In the space of the last hour, the gesture came easily, feeling perfectly normal to them both.
“I’ve learned to put the past behind me. Having it all dredged up again isn’t easy,” she admitted.
“Maybe we’d better call it a night. It’s been a very long day, for both of us.”
Kenzie glanced at the clock. Despite the fact that it was well after one a.m., she hated to leave the warm cocoon of his embrace. Tucked against him this way, she felt safe. “Do you mind if we just sit here for a few more minutes?”