Light from Her Mirror (Mirrors Don't Lie Book 3)

by Becki Willis

  “Maybe then we’ll remember,” Makenna agreed.

  Kenzie took pictures of the cabin to document their progress. Using jugs of water they brought with them, they started in the kitchen, wiping down counter tops and cabinets. Makenna stirred up a small dust storm when she swept the tiled floor of the kitchen and dining room. They were hot and tired by the time they made their way into the living room to clean. They were contemplating whether to stop for the day, when they heard the sound of a vehicle approaching.

  Heart in her throat, Makenna’s green eyes were wide as she turned to her sister. “The electric company, I hope?”

  “I hope.” Kenzie went to the window. Relief washed through her when she saw the utility truck with the local power company’s logo emblazoned on its side. “Thank goodness.”

  Perfect plan or not, there was still the fear that someone had followed them.

  Two men were there to inspect the electricity lines and restore power. It took most of an hour, but finally they had the power reconnected. Kenzie struck up a conversation with the younger one, while the older man showed Makenna where the breaker panel was for the well pump.

  “Have you worked for the power company a long time?” Makenna asked conversationally as they walked over to the small well shed.

  “Forty years this spring,” the man said proudly. “Be retiring soon.”

  “Forty years? That’s impressive.”

  “Seen a lot of changes in that time. I remember when ‘lectricity in these mountains was a luxury, not a necessity.” He opened the creaky shed door and waved his flashlight inside the dark cavern of the small enclosure. An array of hand tools and odds and ends crowded around the curb of a well and an outdated electrical pump. “This here is the switch you’ll need for your well. There will be air in your lines when you first turn it on, and the water might be rusty, but just leave your faucets open wide and let it pour. Let’s see if this little baby will run after all this time.” He flipped the breaker and the motor sluggishly responded with a chug and a loud buzz.

  “Is that awful sound normal?” Makenna asked in concern.

  “Give ‘er a few minutes. It should ease down in a bit.”

  Makenna was skeptical, but the older gentleman seemed confident the noise did not mean the motor was falling apart. “Thank you for all your help,” she said while they waited. “I don’t suppose you remember the family who lived here back in the early nineties? Young couple, two little girls?”

  The older man pushed back his hardhat and scratched his balding scalp. “Seems like I recall a pretty little lady with curly hair, great big smile. Her husband was quiet. One of those computer nerds.”

  Makenna’s heart hammered with excitement. He remembered her parents! “Did you know them personally? Do you know what happened to them?”

  “Didn’t really know them. I came out here a time or two, mostly when it was just the little lady and her babies. Husband worked a lot, as I recall. Had some job in the city where he stayed half the time. Seemed like nice enough folks, maybe a little reserved.”

  “Do you- Do you know what happened to them?”

  “Heard they was in some sort of car wreck, killed the whole family. Shame, too. Those little girls were cute as buttons. There, now, don’t that sound better?”

  It took a moment for Makenna to realize he was referring to the pump motor, which had finally settled into a quieter rhythm. The man was already heading out the door before she blinked away her surprise and scrambled after him.

  “Do you know if they had any family in the area?”

  “Who? Oh, you mean the folks who lived here. Can’t rightly say, I’m afraid. Well, if that’s all we can do for you, think we’d better get on down the road. Chuck?” There was a hint of sharpness to his voice as he called his partner.

  Hanging on every word that fell from Kenzie’s lips, Chuck did not hear his name until it was called for the third time. He reluctantly said his goodbyes, but he left his business card with a hastily scribbled note on the back.

  “They seemed nice,” Kenzie said, still waving as the truck retreated down the lane. It was soon swallowed up by the overgrown mangle of spruce and pine. Overhead limbs snagged on the truck’s tall equipment, littering the gravel roadway with leaves and twigs and torn vines.

  “How do you do it?” Makenna asked with an amused smile. “We look almost exactly alike. We’re dressed almost exactly alike. Yet that man didn’t spare me a second glance.”

  “It’s all in the attitude, sister dear. My smile is open and wide. Yours is friendly but cautious. Plus, you have a rock on your hand. I don’t.” She waggled her ring-free fingers as proof.

  “What did you write on that card he slipped you?”

  Kenzie flipped it over to read, “Welcome to NH. Call me. 555-7010.”

  “While you were busy flirting, I was actually getting some useful information. Mr. Letts said that the family who used to live here - us, of course - was killed in a car wreck. He vaguely remembered our parents. He said the wife was friendly, the husband a computer nerd who lived part time in the city.”

  “I could have told you our father was a nerd. Anything else?” Kenzie asked as they stepped up onto the porch.

  “I asked if they had any family in the area. He said he couldn’t say, but I don’t think that necessarily meant no.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was the way he said it. He didn’t directly answer my question and he had an odd look on his face. Then he changed the subject and they left.”

  “I wonder what that was about. Why did he - oh, my gosh! What in the world?”

  As they stepped inside the house, light flooded the once-dim rooms and noise came at them from all directions. With the power suddenly restored, appliances were coming to life after twenty-odd years of sleep. Not all met the occasion with grace.

  A clock radio blared from the back bedroom with more static than music. A timer buzzed on the stove. The refrigerator groaned and heaved, struggling to awaken after its long nap. In the dining room, an electric wall clock whined and grated as its sluggish hands were forced to move again. The old tube-style television hummed loudly, and the VCR whirled as an outdated cassette tape rewound itself.

  The women went through the house, turning off electrical devices and opening water faucets so the pipes could clear. As predicted, the water was rusty and stale, but after running a long while, the stream came out clear and fresh.

  “I wonder if the air conditioner works,” Kenzie said, twisting a knob on the window unit in the living room. A huge puff of dust billowed out as the fan whirled, whined, and promptly died. “Guess not,” she said in disgust, wiping the dust from her face. “Put that on your list.”

  “I saw a couple of box fans in the well shed. We can get those out. And I think there was another a/c unit in the back bedroom. Maybe it will work.”

  “You can try it,” Kenzie snorted. “I’ve had my dust-bath for the day, thank you very much.”

  “Oh, well, you’re just going to get worse when we finish cleaning.”

  “I thought we were calling it quits for the day.”

  “Only because we didn’t have power and water. Now we can keep working.”

  “That’s why you were going to quit,” Kenzie grinned. “I’m tired.”

  “Come on, let’s get all the grungy work over with today, so tomorrow we can concentrate on looking for clues.”

  “We are going back to the hotel tonight, right?”

  “I don’t know, do you want to?”

  “Hmm, let me think.” Kenzie put her hands out in scale fashion. “Stay here, fight off the dust and the wolves. Go back to the hotel, have a nice hot bath with clean water, sleep on clean sheets, watch television in the comfort of our nice cool air conditioner. Hmm. Hard decision.” One hand was head-high, the other near her hips.

  “Okay, so we’ll go back to the hotel,” Makenna agreed. “But let’s strip the sheets and wash them so we can at least stay h
ere tomorrow night.”

  “I’m not sure about staying out here…”

  “Oh, come on, tomorrow this will look like a new place.”

  “I’m not sure this looked like a new place twenty-three years ago,” Kenzie murmured, surveying the rustic cabin and its outdated decor.

  “I think it’s adorable,” Makenna said smugly, as she sashayed into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door and groaned. “Ugh. How disgusting.”

  “What is it?”

  “Never mind, you don’t even need to look.” She knew her sister’s solution would be to throw the entire appliance out and buy a new one. The thought had its merits. “I’ll take care of this, you take care of the living room. And let’s be sure and put baking soda on the list. Lots and lots of baking soda.”

  Even with a dozen boxes, she was not sure she could purge the smell of twenty-three years of rotted food.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sunlight streamed through sparkling glass panes, reflecting off floors freshly mopped and furniture newly polished. All the curtains and linens were laundered, the throw rugs vacuumed and aired. Candles and air freshener chased away the musty smell of dormant air, the lemony fragrance stirred by box fans set in the living room and kitchen.

  If not ‘new’, the inside of the cabin at least looked livable.

  For safety reasons, the women decided to leave the outside looking uninhabited. They pulled Yoko around to the back of the house, where the small back porch off the kitchen was now swept clean. Although slightly decrepit, a carefully chosen path made it a safe alternative to using the more visible front porch.

  Tucked inside the newly freshened house, the sisters looked for clues from their past. When they first discovered the house the month before, they had searched with the help of Hardin and Travis. Without electricity, however, it was easy to miss some of the best places to store - or hide - documents. But with the proper light, they were finding more cubbyholes stuffed with papers, shoeboxes filled with receipts, and one folder with medical records.

  “Okay, so I had regular dental check-ups as a toddler,” Kenzie reported as she thumbed through some papers. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

  “Sure. Baby teeth.”

  “I wonder if this dentist is still in business. He might be able to tell us something about our parents.”

  “Possibly.”

  “You sound skeptical.”

  “Well, it has been over twenty years. But I agree, it’s worth a try.”

  Kenzie fished her new no-contract phone from her jeans and punched in the number while Makenna continued her search. They had not yet dusted inside the china cabinet, where the glass doors had kept most of the airborne particles at bay. She was doing double duty now, looking inside and under each item as she lifted them to dust.

  “Well, that was a bust,” Kenzie reported in disgust. “The number now belongs to a Chinese food restaurant. Are you finding anything?”

  “A couple of buttons, a few small stones, a little toy that looks like it came from a fast food chain, a key, another key, and a hair ribbon.” Makenna held the items in her open palm.

  “What kind of keys?”

  “This one looks like it’s to a Ford vehicle, probably the one outside, and this one looks like it goes to a padlock. And let’s see, here’s a little slip of paper… a phone number, no name.”

  “Hand it here, I’ll call it.”

  Makenna relinquished the paper and moved to another shelf. She pulled out a heavy crystal bowl, admiring the fine etching and obvious quality of the piece. It seemed at odds in the rustic cabin, but everyone enjoyed a touch of elegance now and then. She picked up a large ironstone platter, admiring its pattern, just as she heard Kenzie’s sharp gasp. Obviously an antique, the platter slipped from her startled fingers but she managed to catch it just before it hit the ground.

  “What-What is it?” she asked, hugging the platter to her.

  “You’ll never believe whose number that was.” Kenzie looked rattled, her face unusually pale.

  “Whose?”

  “The Senator’s. Harry Lawrence.”

  Makenna’s brows knitted together. “Why would our mother have the Senator’s number? Was it to his office or his home?”

  “His home, I suppose. It would have to be. He’s no longer a Representative here. He moved to Colorado and became their Senator.”

  “But why would our mother be calling him?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure it has to do with Modern Power. His picture was on that roll of film and his name was on the list.” Kenzie motioned to the dish Makenna held. “What’s that? Something is on the back.”

  Makenna turned the platter over and saw a small piece of paper taped to the back. “From Grandmother Hannah’s first set of dishes,” she read aloud. “Married 1943, Grafton County.”

  Kenzie’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Progress, at last! So our great-grandmother’s name was Hannah. I wonder which side it was on? I guess we could go to the courthouse and search marriage records from 1943.”

  “This is Grafton County, isn’t it?”

  “I think so.”

  “Let’s see if there’s anything else.”

  They searched the rest of the dishes, but the only other tag was vague. Granny Ruth’s teacup. Another piece of paper, folded and stuffed beneath a stack of plates, had a message written in code.

  “I think our mother was a secret spy,” Kenzie muttered derisively, seeing the familiar scrambled letters. “She certainly had a flair for codes.”

  “Obviously she was afraid her messages would be seen by the wrong people.” Makenna glanced at the wall clock, which was still having difficulty keeping the correct time. “I think we still have time to get to the courthouse. It’s in Haverhill, I think. Maybe we can make a few businesses, too, and see if anyone remembers our parents.”

  “Maybe we should split up. One of us can dig through records, one of us - meaning me, of course - can go around talking to people.”

  “Why you, of course?”

  “Because I’m a people person and you’re a paper person,” Kenzie reasoned.

  “Excuse me? A paper person?”

  “Sure. And don’t act so offended. It’s all those lists you make. Paper.” She shrugged, as if it were perfectly clear.

  Because it was clear, Makenna did not argue. “Let me get my notebook. You can drop me off at the courthouse while you make the rounds.”

  ***

  The village of Haverhill, tucked along the Connecticut River, was more of a farming community than an actual town. Edged up to the border of Vermont, there were few businesses to boast of in the once-thriving center, first established in 1763. A historical plaque marked its significance in history, but little was left of the town other than the historical town corner and a smattering of charming old buildings.

  Makenna wanted to linger on the town greens, but Kenzie compromised by taking pictures of the tree-studded twin lots and the gazebo that graced one of them. She took a close-up shot of the historical marker, snapped off a dozen or so images of the impressive old churches, houses, and the ancient jail-turned-library, before encouraging her sister to hurry along.

  North Haverhill was a few miles down the Dartmouth Highway, and home of the Grafton County Courthouse. While Makenna dug through old record books, Kenzie went through the small town, looking for businesses that appeared to be well established; they had lived here in the early 1990’s, after all.

  By the time she picked her sister up in front of the courthouse, there was time for only one more stop.

  “I think we have time to get to the newspaper office before it closes,” Kenzie said as soon as Makenna got into the car.

  “Did you find out anything?” her sister asked hopefully.

  “Absolutely nothing. The waitress at the cafe was new in town - she’s only lived in the area seven years- but if we come back at breakfast, Mel will be there. Mel knows everyone. I heard the same thing
at the gas station, the corner market, the antique store, etc... When I asked at the insurance company and the hardware store, they looked at me like I had two heads. I gotta tell you, my expectations at the paper are about as low as my spirits. Either no one remembers, or no one wants to talk about it.” She maneuvered Yoko into a parking spot and killed the engine. “Ready?”

  There was only one person still in the office, an older gentleman with rumbled clothes and a cluttered desk.

  “Back in the early nineties, eh?” he said, peering at them over wire-rimmed glasses. “Have all the old papers on microfiche. Been working on getting them digital, but it’s one of those things we work on when we have extra time. Never have extra time, so they’re still on microfiche.” He snickered at his own humor.

  “We certainly understand that,” Kenzie said, offering him one of her bright smiles. “And I know how busy you must be, running a newspaper and all!” She let a touch of awe slip into her voice. Never mind that she worked for one of the biggest and most prestigious magazines in the country. “I can’t imagine how demanding your job must be. Sister, can you?”

  She glanced over her shoulder to Makenna, who played along with appropriate wonder. “And so important, too.” She bobbed her auburn head.

  “So we’d never want to do anything to bother you, or to get in the way of your very important work.” Kenzie looked and sounded completely sincere, her voice flavored with Southern charm. “If you’ll just point us in the way of your micro-thingy machine, we’ll only take up a tiny little corner of your space and time. You won’t even know we’re here.”

  “Uhm, well, you see…” The older man stammered, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall. “It’s- It’s almost closing time.”

  “But since there’s two of us, it won’t take us nearly as long. Sister, you read fast, don’t you?”

  “Almost a speed reader,” Makenna confirmed.

  The old man’s eyes bobbed from one woman to the other, clearly stalling. “The-The machine’s not hooked up. I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”