by Becki Willis
“I was going to say ‘became involved with the mafia’. Or whoever it is he tangled with.” He reached for another document. “This is a deed to a house and twelve acres of land in … Grafton County.” He looked up at Kenzie. “Rt. 2 Box 116-2A, Haverhill, New Hampshire.”
“The address we found at Esterbrook!”
“It lists the name of the Trust as legal owner.”
Kenzie blew out a deep breath. She had always wanted roots, but she never guessed the first house she owned would be in the edge of New Hampshire’s White Mountains.
“Our birth certificates,” Makenna said, reaching into the assorted papers littering the table.
“When is our birthday?” It occurred to Kenzie that the two days they celebrated each year were just another fabrication of their lives.
Kenzie had always called February twenty-first her birthday; she could not, however, call the event that occurred in their home each year a celebration. There was seldom a cake, although she remembered going out to eat a few times and getting to choose the restaurant. Since they rarely went out for a meal, the outing itself was a special treat. She could not remember ever opening more than two presents on any given year. Usually she received clothes, but occasionally there would be an additional small toy when she was younger, a book or hair accessory as she grew older. All of that changed, of course, when she met the Reagans. They celebrated June the twelfth, the day they first found the little girl who would become their daughter, as Makenna’s birth date. The event included cake with candles, parties with balloons, and more presents than any one person could possibly need. And once Kenzie joined the fold, the same reverence was bestowed upon her.
Makenna scanned the almost-identical documents. “January the eighteenth. And now I know why you’re so bossy. You’re the oldest, by eight minutes.”
“Speak with respect to your elders, young lady,” Kenzie quipped. She frowned as a new thought struck her. “If I’m actually Tressa, that is. We might have it all wrong.”
“Another contract.” Hardin brought their attention back to the matter at hand. “I think it’s a copy of one of the ones on the disk.”
“Backup?” Makenna asked.
“That would be my guess.”
“This is hardly the earth-shattering evidence I was expecting,” Kenzie admitted. Disappointment dulled her voice. “I wanted answers, not more questions. We’ll have to wade through the legal jargon to decipher the significance of all these contracts.”
“Welcome to the exciting world of being an investigator,” Hardin grinned. “Television makes it look all glamorous and exciting, full of action. Most cases get cracked just like this, digging through piles of evidence and minute details.”
“Ugh. I’ll stick with my own career, thank you very much.”
“Speaking of which… What did you tell Kathryn to convince her to fly you up here on the private jet? Last night, no less.” Makenna asked curiously.
Kenzie scrunched a handful of raven curls in her hand, then fluffed them out haphazardly. “Oh, something about a fabulous story I had in mind. Back-story on Harry Lawrence’s roots in the area, that sort of thing. And I hinted about some new development with NorthWind. She’s so excited about tomorrow’s interview that she would probably agree to anything right now.”
“Why don’t we let the guys finishing looking over these documents?” Makenna suggested. “You and I can surf the web, find info on the Senator to make it look like you were actually telling the truth, and then we can look up directions to Haverhill.”
Kenzie wrinkled her nose at the veiled but playful insult. “Deal. I wouldn’t mind an afternoon road trip. I could even take a few pictures, just like I promised.”
“After the interview, we’re going sightseeing,” her sister informed her as they moved into the sitting area so their conversation would not disturb the men. “I want you to see all the waterfalls. My photography skills couldn’t do them justice. You’ll need to see them for yourself.”
With each of the sisters on their computers, they could look up twice as much information. They skimmed through websites and articles featuring the Senator, jotting down any details that looked helpful in Kenzie’s background search.
“I hope Kathryn appreciates how much in-depth information you bring to each and every story you cover,” Makenna said, watching her twin in action. “You don’t just take pictures; you tell stories. That’s what makes you so fantastic at your job.”
“You’re making me blush,” Kenzie said, even though they both knew she loved the praise. She received such seldom appreciation in her youth. “Hmm. This article says the Senator grew up in a little town called Sugar Hill. Know where that is?”
“Sure do. That’s where we were when Raymond Foto approached me.” Makenna shivered with the memory. “North of there is where the majority of the power lines are coming through.”
“This article says his father died when he was young. Complications from working in the coalmines of Vermont. Says that’s what inspired his enthusiasm for clean energy sources.”
“I can understand that.”
“His first stab at politics was to run for county commissioner in Grafton County.” Kenzie frowned. “Isn’t that where Haverhill is located?”
“Yes. But I know what you’re thinking, that’s it’s awfully strange that he’s from the same county where our parents owned a house. You’re going to find all sorts of co-incidences like that, but it’s because New Hampshire is such a small state. It takes a little getting used to.”
“Hmm.” Kenzie continued to peruse the document. “Even way back in the 80’s he was pushing for clean energy and recycling and being kinder to our environment. That was his motto for his first mayoral bid in 1986. Save the World.”
“Where was he mayor?”
“In… nowhere. He lost, but he immediately ran for State Representative and won. All uphill from there.”
Pulling up a different article on her own computer, Makenna read from her screen. “He married his high school sweetheart and they had four children. His oldest son is a lawyer; the other two are in politics. One son is a US Representative for New Hampshire, the other is a State Senator in Colorado.”
Kenzie nodded. “Craven said when the family moved their permanent residence from New Hampshire to Colorado, the oldest two sons stayed here.”
Makenna read on. “Oh, how sad. They had one daughter, but she was killed in an accident when she was only twenty-five.”
“Craven mentioned something about a drunk driver, I think.”
“It doesn’t say here, but it’s sad, no matter the cause. Okay, so what else are we looking for?”
“Do you see anything else about his New Hampshire background, anything I might be able to take pictures of while I’m here?”
“Is says he was integral in getting wind farms to build in the Granite State. He called for solar panels to be installed on all government buildings, as early as 1991. And while he was Representative, he wrote several pieces of key legislature that paved the way for green energy expansion.”
Kenzie perked up. “Any mention of Modern Power or NorthWind?”
“Let me see… not directly, but the article cites both companies as examples. However, he was keynote speaker at a convention in 1995, where NorthWind was recognized as a leader in green energy. There’s a link to another story…” Makenna pressed the key, bringing up a new screen and a large photo of the Senator and his Chief of Staff, which immediately derailed her train of thought. “Oh wow, is this your friend Craven? You’re right; he could easily be a male model! Look at him.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Hardin called from across the room. “You aren’t supposed to be oohing and aahing over another man. Who is this Craven person Kenzie keeps talking about?” Obviously, the men had overheard everything the women were saying.
“Her newest conquest.” Travis’s words were tight.
“I thought that was you, man,” Hardin cracked, slapping hi
s friend’s arm in jest.
Travis snorted. Beneath a scowl, he mumbled, “Doctor, lawman, politician. She has quite a following.”
Kenzie heard him and bristled immediately. “How dare you, Travis Merka! You know good and well-”
“That’s enough, you two,” Makenna broke in firmly.
“Easy for you to say,” her sister sulked. “No one’s insinuating that you’re a slut.” She threw an angry laser of green at Travis.
“I never said you were a slut,” Travis corrected tersely. “I said you collect men like most women collect shoes.”
“Yeah, I’ve always had a thing for heels!” She flung the insult at him.
“Honestly, you two behave like children!” Makenna admonished. “I’m sorry I said anything. Let’s just get back to work.”
At the table, Hardin kept his voice low. “What’s that all about, man?”
“Craven Shaw is the Senator’s Chief of Staff. And he’s after Kenzie.”
“After?” Hardin frowned.
“He’s after her body, that’s for sure,” Travis muttered thickly.
Hardin studied his friend for a moment. “I’ve never known you to be a jealous man before.” The rebuke in his voice was subtle but effective. “Now is not the time to start. We need to stay focused.”
Travis blew out a sigh of frustration. “I know. It’s just that she has a way of pushing all my buttons. She can be so infuriating at times. She just gets under my skin.”
Hardin followed his gaze. The two sisters were huddled together in a whisper. His intense blue eyes softened as they fell upon the twin with auburn hair. “I know what you mean.” He grinned suddenly. “Ain’t it great?”
“Great?” Travis muttered, his voice too low to carry. “I’ve never felt so rattled in all my life. I like order and control. I like slow and steady. That little firecracker over there is none of those things.”
His friend only laughed as he slapped Travis on the back. “Welcome to the club, buddy.”
“What club?”
“Admit it, man, you’re whupped.”
Travis growled in denial, but a faint stain colored his cheeks. He forced his eyes away from the woman solely responsible for his inner turmoil. “Let me look at those contracts again. I can only focus on one disaster at a time.”
Chapter Twenty
After lunch, the foursome drove east toward the Vermont border and the small town of Haverhill. The phased out route address did not register on GPS, nor was the substitute clerk working in the local post office of much help. Finding the mysterious Rt. 2 Box 116-2A proved to be a difficult task that led them back west, into the national forest and nearer the mountains.
“At least it’s a gorgeous drive,” Kenzie said, studying the alternating views of lush farmlands and dense forest. She could almost imagine they were out for a leisurely drive on a sunny summer day.
“I’m thinking if we take this road up here, it might take us where we want to go,” Hardin said from the front seat, pointing the way for Travis to turn. “Sorry, Kenzie, what were you saying?”
“I just said it’s beautiful up here.”
“You should see the mountains and all the streams.” He turned around to look at the women in the back seat, his intense blue eyes immediately seeking out his fiancé. He winked at her, making the simple gesture look intimate, even as he addressed her twin. “If you think this is pretty, travel forty minutes that way. It gets even better. Huh, babe?”
“Yes it does,” Makenna agreed. The sensual quality in her voice echoed in the look they shared.
Kenzie snorted. “Knock it off, you two, you’re doing it again! We were talking about scenery. How can you turn that into something all private and sexy?”
Hardin merely chuckled, but the sound had a deliciously sexy edge to it. “Who said anything about sex?” he teased. “You just have a dirty mind.”
Kenzie rolled her eyes, but as they swept across the rear view mirror, her eyes snagged in Travis’s dark gaze. Something in his expression made her blush and caused Hardin to laugh aloud as he turned back around. Kenzie gave a smart tap to the back of his blond-brown head.
“Hey, what’d you do that for?” he complained. “Right here, man. Take this road.”
Just like that, they were back to business. Kenzie felt the muscles along her shoulders tense up. Makenna grabbed her hand and they squeezed the other’s fingers as the car turned onto a small gravel road.
With the exception of one small farm, there was nothing down the road but trees and forest. Pavement turned to gravel, gravel to dirt. An old set of rural mailboxes sagged near the end of the lane, none of the three in very good shape. Travis stopped the car and Hardin got out to examine the faded letters that identified them.
“Looks like this one said Snick. Or maybe that’s Smith,” he amended, angling his head to better read the old paint. “Box something-2C.” He rubbed his neatly trimmed box beard as he examined another box with peeling stick-on numbers. “Rt. … either 2 or 3… Box 116-2B. So that should make this other one…” He lifted the third box up from where it rested in the dirt and brushed away the smear of soil and grass. Several of the numbers were missing or faded, but enough were visible to make positive identification. “Rt. 2 Box 116-2A.”
“Yay.” Makenna’s weak victory cry wobbled with nerves as Hardin got back in the car.
“There’s an old home-place a couple of hundred yards back, and that rotting house across the road,” he noted. “There should be another house up this last lane. My logic would be A-B-C, left to right, so looking at the boxes straight on, first house on left being A, that rotting house being B, the empty lot being C, but not everyone shares my keen sense of perception. What’s y’all’s take?”
Travis caught Kenzie’s eye again in the mirror. “Did anything about these other two places look familiar?”
“No, but we were only three when we lived here.”
“Makenna?”
She shook her head. “No, but when Hardin and I went to the cabin in the mountains, I had a faint memory of a log cabin in the woods.”
“The woods it is,” Travis said, turning into the overgrown drive on the right.
Neglected trees lined the sides of the narrow path, eager to swallow up anything that entered the tunnel-like passage. Shaggy pine and spruce branches clawed at the car as it rolled slowly through the alley. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the dense foliage and solid underbrush, making the path dark and slightly ominous.
The car crawled through the narrow lane and exited on the other side, into a once-spacious clearing, now overgrown and edging inward. It was the scene in the middle of the clearing that drew a collective gasp from all four people in the car.
Twenty-three years ago, this would have been a haven of peace for any young family. Tucked into the beautiful White Mountain National Forest, the homestead sat at the bottom of a foothill, surrounded with nature.
However, the years had passed, and the elements had not been kind.
The children’s swing set was now sagging in the back yard, broken and sad. A light breeze came down from the mountain and one playful gust caught a rusted chain, twirling its dangling seat to play a sad, squeaking tune. Faded toys hid among the yellowed and brittle grasses of the delinquent yard, which ranged from overgrown jungle to dormant seedlings.
From its perch on a small concrete patio, the family picnic table now served a dozen broken branches and at least one animal nest. Once shiny and serviceable, a gas grill huddled in a bedraggled heap against the log walls of the house.
The house itself was still solid, though years of neglect had taken their toll. The porch was littered with limbs and debris, but from under the bramble peeked a glimpse of former life… a rotting porch swing... the remnants of a pot plant… more children’s toys. And to the right of the house, in perfect condition but for the rotted tires, a two-toned tan and green 1990 model Ford F-150.
Hardin checked out the safety of the porch, while Tra
vis disappeared around the back of the house. The sisters stood in the yard, mouths agape as they gathered the courage to venture inside.
“No generator,” Travis reported as he came back around to the front of the house. His eyes sought out Kenzie’s. “Do you want to go inside?”
“No.” With a shaky breath, “Yes.”
“Let us go in first, make sure it’s safe.”
Hardin jiggled the handle of the locked door. He worked with it a few minutes, until finally it swung open with a protesting screech. Travis jogged back to the car and opened the trunk, digging in his bag until he found two small flashlights.
“You brought flashlights with you?” Kenzie asked with an arched brow.
“Of course. Always prepared.” He flashed her one of his rare smiles and ducked beneath the cobwebs protecting the door.
Makenna leaned in close and whispered in her sister’s ear. “That man has a killer smile. Too bad he doesn’t use it more often.”
Kenzie’s eyes followed him as he retreated into the house. She watched both men moving through the shadowy interior of what was her past, trying hard to remember living here as a child. Nothing looked familiar so far.
“Okay. All clear,” Hardin called.
“Ready?” Kenzie asked her sister.
“As I’ll ever be.” They took hands and stepped through the door, standing side-by-side to survey the house from their childhood, the house that was legally theirs.
A long family room stretched across the front of the house. To the right were three doors off a short hallway, to the back was the kitchen. Everything was still in place, now covered with layers of dust and grime and the stale passage of time.
“I wonder if we even had time to pack,” Kenzie murmured.
“It looks like they just walked out the door,” Makenna murmured. “It’s like it was frozen in time.”
Kenzie echoed the sentiment. “A life interrupted,” she whispered.
Opened coloring books and crayons cluttered the coffee table; beside them sat a glass, its dark ring marking the long since evaporated contents. A messy desk resided in one corner of the long room, an entertainment center in the other. A jumble of VHS tapes spilled from the shelves, many of them sporting cartoon titles.