by J. H. Croix
11
Max strode down the hallway at the police station and paused at the door to Hank’s office. Hank was seated at his desk, reading something on his computer screen.
“Hey Hank, your receptionist let me in. Hope it’s okay I stopped by.”
Hank glanced up and swiveled in his chair. “Of course it’s okay. Janice buzzed me and said you were here. How are things up at the house? Need any more help with the yard?” he asked as he stood and gestured for Max to join him at the small round table to the side of his desk.
Max sat down and shook his head. “No help needed. Those kids did a bang up job clearing the yard out. It’s ready for winter now. Thanks again for organizing that.”
“Like I said, not a problem.”
“I meant to stop by anyway, but thought I’d pass on that Brad Peyton stopped by Roxanne’s Store this morning. She said he apologized for the smuggling fiasco, so she asked him to talk to you if he had any ideas what his dad might’ve been up to back when he was running River Run Mill. Figured you might want to know about that.”
Hank grinned. “Brad already stopped by. I didn’t give him any clues as to why we’re looking, but I asked him to do some digging into his father’s old accounts. He seemed willing enough. When all was said and done, he was the only one who was helpful in our investigation. Maybe it was just to get credit for time served, but my gut feeling was that he felt bad about the whole mess. Wallace was just as much of an ass to his kids as everyone else. Brad was probably afraid of what his dad might do if he hadn’t gone along with it when they were running drugs. Way I figure it, Brad can get us close to info we’d otherwise need a warrant for.”
Max nodded slowly, a sense of hope he hadn’t allowed himself to have unfurling. Given how long ago his father died, he hadn’t hoped for much from the investigation, but avenues appeared to be opening. “Alright then. Maybe he can turn something up.”
“Here’s hoping.”
Max leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “It occurred to me that it might not be too helpful to you if I’m stopping by every other day for an update. I’m kind of impatient now that you’re actually investigating.”
Hank chuckled. “No worries. Stop by whenever you want. Speaking of help though, why don’t you dig through whatever records your parents left behind.”
“Will do. My mom had a bunch of stuff in storage in Virginia that I shipped up here. I also came across some boxes in the attic today. I’ll see what I can find.”
Hank’s phone rang. He leaned over and snagged it off his desk. Max stood and gave a small wave. “Catch you later.”
He headed out for a drive up to the county courthouse. Not much later, he walked back outside after a brief tour of his offices and meeting with the administrative staff. He aimed his car back in the direction of Catamount. As he drove along the winding roads through the mountains, leaves blew across the road. Snow had already capped the mountains nearby, heralding winter’s coming arrival. His thoughts went to Roxanne with her all but parked in his body and mind these days. He wanted last night to turn into many nights, yet he sensed a lingering hesitation in her, although she hadn’t voiced it aloud.
He glanced at the clock and saw he had a few hours before it was sensible to head over to see her again. Much as he’d have been happy to hang out in the deli kitchen at all hours, like he once did when they were young, he guessed she might not appreciate it. He turned off the main highway into Catamount onto the side road leading to his family home. Moments later, he was carting some of the dusty boxes from the attic out to his car. He’d quickly checked the boxes and was bringing only those with old paperwork in them. Although he’d gotten the house mostly clean, he needed to get the boiler up and running and actually furnish the place before moving in. For now, he’d bring these boxes to the hotel and start making his way through them to see what he might find.
Max stopped to get gas just outside of the downtown area. While he was waiting for the tank to fill, a vaguely familiar man approached him. He guessed the man to be a shifter based on the way he carried himself and the subtle energy he gave off. The man had darkish blonde hair and brown eyes with the distinctive feline cast to his face. The man paused at the front of Max’s truck. “Max Stone, right? Heard you were back in town.”
Max nodded. “That’s right. You seem familiar, but I’m better with faces than names.”
The man stepped closer and rested his elbow on the hood of Max’s SUV. “Lee Hogan. You might remember my brother Kirk better. I was a few years ahead of you two in high school.”
“Oh right. I had a few classes with Kirk,” Max replied. He and Kirk hadn’t run in the same circles, although their fathers worked together at River Run Mill. Beyond that, Max didn’t remember much about Kirk. Being polite, he asked the obvious. “How’s Kirk doing?”
Lee was quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Guess you didn’t hear. He was swept up in the arrests around here for the smuggling ring about two years ago. Whole thing was a fuckin’ mess. They came down pretty hard on some of the low level guys. Don’t get me wrong, Kirk was definitely up to no good, but he was a middle man. He’s serving ten years for it, which is ridiculous if you ask me.”
Though Max’s knowledge about the smuggling network and its eventual fall in Catamount was superficial, Lee’s comments didn’t sit well with him. Yet, he wasn’t interested in letting this topic go any further, so he kept his reply cursory. “Well, sorry to hear about that. How’s your family doing?”
“Dad’s still alive and kicking. He mentioned he thought you’d moved back to town. How about your mom?”
“She passed away about a year ago,” Max offered.
“Oh, sorry to hear that.” At Max’s nod, Lee continued. “Looks like you might be doing some clean up out at the old house, huh?”
Max was starting to wonder why Lee was so curious about anything to do with Max, seeing as they barely knew each other from before. He again offered a nod, only to have Lee keep going.
“Did you guys leave anything behind when you moved? Hard to believe that place sat empty all these years.”
Max was relieved when the gas pump clicked, indicating the tank was full. He busied himself putting the nozzle away and screwing the cap back on his tank. “House was in decent shape. I’m doing a little work to get it ready,” he answered generally. “Anyway, good to see you. Give your dad my best.”
At that, he snagged his receipt and climbed in his car. Lee stepped out of the way as Max drove away. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about Lee pinged in his gut. He had nothing other than that to go on when he tapped his dash screen to call Hank.
“Hank here.”
“Hey Hank, it’s Max. Just throwing this out there, but did Marshall Hogan happen to be around the mill the day of my dad’s accident?”
“Yup. He was the manager on duty that day. He and Wallace were the two managers at the mill back then. Why do you ask?”
“No good reason other than a weird gut feeling when Lee Hogan stopped to chat with me at the gas station.”
“Hmm. Anything I can work with?”
“Not unless you count my gut feeling. There wasn’t much to the conversation, but I barely knew the guy when I lived here before. For what it’s worth, he thinks you were too hard on his brother.”
Hank chuckled. “Kirk was in pretty deep with the smugglers, no matter what Lee would like to think. Anyway, I’ll keep Marshall’s role in mind when I’m interviewing the others who were there. The one thing I am worried about is we already know Wallace didn’t act alone. I’ll need to be cautious when I start talking with the old mill crew to keep word from spreading too fast.”
“Right, well, I’ve got all the file boxes from my parents’ house, so I’ll start looking through those soon.”
“Got it. I’ll keep you posted on the rest.” At that, the line clicked off. Max angled his truck into a parking spot across the street from Roxanne’s Store before he real
ized he’d done it. For a second, he considered heading back to the inn down the street, but he didn’t feel like a quiet afternoon alone with boxes of his parents’ papers. He stared across the street at the familiar storefront. Between yesterday and today, Roxanne had obviously set someone to work on holiday decorations. Lights were hung along the windows and someone was decorating a Christmas tree centered in the front windows. He quickly calculated and realized Thanksgiving was a mere week away. In all his planning to move back to Catamount, he hadn’t considered the holiday season. He could only hope he’d be welcome at the usual Thanksgiving gathering hosted at the store, although he wasn’t sure if Roxanne had kept up the tradition started by her grandparents. He gave himself a mental shake. He didn’t need to start thinking too far ahead.
He climbed out of his car and strode across the street. He was about halfway over when Roxanne came out the front door of the store. She didn’t notice him as she turned and stood in front of the windows. She wore a pair of jeans with a bright purple shirt that hugged her curves with an apron atop it. Her blonde hair was in its usual knot with a pen sticking up behind her head from where it held the knot in place. As he approached, he heard her talking and realized a window beside the wide center window was open. “Move it a little bit to the left,” she said. Whoever was decorating the tree obeyed with the tree inching sideways. “Perfect,” Roxanne announced.
She started to turn away and collided with him. Her breath came out in a puff. “Ooh! I didn’t see…” Her words trailed off as she glanced up.
He couldn’t help but grin at his luck. If only for a second, he got to feel her lush curves against him before she stepped back. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
She appeared to be fighting a return smile and finally gave into it. Her eyes sparkled up at him, and it was all he could do not to toss her over his shoulder and carry her away. She took another step back and reached up to adjust the pen holding her hair in place. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by so soon.”
He shrugged. “Me neither. Before I realized it, I was parking right there,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder to where he was parked across the street. “If you don’t mind, I thought I’d get some coffee. If you want help out back, I’m at your service.”
She stared up at him for a few beats before answering. “If you want, you could help Joey finish hanging the lights.”
“Anything you need,” he replied.
She grinned and spun around, walking quickly back into the store. “Joey finished the lights on the downstairs, but we were trying to figure out when I could find someone to help him with the upstairs and roof. Between the extension ladder and managing the lights, it’s a two-person job. The rest of us are too short.”
Max chuckled as he followed Roxanne through the aisles. Diane threw a grin his way as he passed by, and his heart warmed a little to realize he was starting to feel like he was blending back into Catamount. Roxanne rounded the counter in the deli with him right on her heels. Moments later, they were in the storeroom, the very room where he’d finally gotten his first taste of her after fifteen long years. A young man was standing by the table, carefully untangling massive lengths of holiday lights.
“Joey, I found help for you. Between you and Max, you guys will have this done in no time!”
Joey glanced up, tossing his shaggy brown hair off his forehead. He was all arms and legs, but Max knew at a glance he was related to Hank Anderson. “Max Stone,” he said, holding a hand out and stepping in front of Joey.
Joey freed a hand and gave Max a quick shake. “Joey Anderson.”
“Okay, I’ve gotta get back out front,” Roxanne said quickly. “You two can sort this out without me, right?”
Joey glanced to her with a grin. “Pretty sure we got this.”
Roxanne’s eyes flicked to Max. “Thanks for helping out. I’ll be out front if you guys need anything.”
She spun away and jogged back down the hall. Joey met Max’s gaze. “Ever hung lights on a roof before?”
Max nodded. “Sure have. If you’re familiar with how much we need, let’s get started.”
Joey glanced to the cluster of lights in his hands. “They’re all right here.”
Several hours later, Max stepped off the extension ladder and took a few steps back, his eyes scanning the roofline of the store. “Looks good!” he called up to Joey who was leaning out of one of the attic windows. Joey gave a thumbs up and disappeared from view, closing the window behind him.
Max carefully brought the extension ladder down and carried it around to the back of the building where it was stored inside the massive old barn behind the home. He was washing his hands in the sink by the door when it opened and Roxanne stepped through. She had a streak of flour on her cheek and loose locks of hair fell around her face.
“The lights look great. Thanks for helping out,” she offered by way of greeting.
“No problem.”
She stood there before him, looking so damn beautiful, he could hardly think. He’d wondered if the heated hum that ran through him at the sight of her would start to ease up, but it only seemed to have grown stronger. Her shoulders rose and fell with a breath, and he fought the urge to yank her to him and kiss her.
“I’m finishing up soon. Becky’s handling closing tonight,” she said, her words breaking into the silence.
“Do you want to grab dinner somewhere?” he asked quickly.
She was quiet long enough that he worried she was about to say no. She bit her lip and angled her head to the side. “Okay,” she finally replied, the word stretching out slowly. She turned away and started to walk back out of the garage.
“So, should I meet you out front?” he asked.
She paused by the door and glanced over her shoulder. “Sure. I just need to ditch this apron and let Becky know I’m leaving.”
He took three quick strides to reach her side, dipping his head to catch her lips in a kiss. He didn’t know why, but he had to kiss her just then.
12
Roxanne climbed into Max’s car, still flustered from his kiss a few minutes ago in the garage. She’d tried to persuade herself to say no to dinner, but she couldn’t seem to do it. She glanced through the rear window into the back of his car.
“Are those boxes from your move here?” she asked.
He shook his head as he started the SUV and angled it away from the curb. “Nah. Those are from the attic at the house. Hank wants me to dig through any old files I can find and see if my dad had anything saved from back when he thought Wallace was embezzling.”
Her stomach churned as she considered Max’s matter-of-fact response. If his mother’s suspicions were correct, his father had been set up to die, which nearly broke Roxanne’s heart. It was bad enough he’d had to adjust to his father dying so suddenly, but to learn it might have been on purpose infuriated her. She glanced at the strong lines of Max’s profile. “It makes me so angry that maybe your dad died just because he found out Wallace was embezzling. I swear that man is plain evil.”
He rolled to a stop at a corner and glanced her way. “It sucks, but maybe I can find out what really happened. I never stop missing him, but I’ve had fifteen years to get used to it.”
“I know. I hope Hank can find out if your mother was right.”
The light changed at the intersection, and Max looked away as he drove through. “Me too.”
After a moment, she moved on. “How are things at the house?”
“Moving along. The kids Hank rounded up took care of the mess in the yard, and I’ve mostly got it cleaned up inside. I need to make a run to Portland to get some furniture before I move in though.”
“Can you take me by?” she asked impulsively.
He glanced her way with a nod. “Sure. Let’s stop by now. It’s not dark yet. Where did you want to get dinner?”
“We might as well go to the Trailhead Café. Aside from my deli, it’s the best place in town.”
Max chuckled a
nd steered along the winding road out of downtown Catamount. She didn’t know why she suddenly wanted to see his old home. She’d driven by it hundreds of times a year since he’d moved away. The house happened to be down the same road where Phoebe lived, so whenever they had dinners together at her place, Roxanne drove by. At first, it hurt every time she saw it, but she eventually became inured to the sharp pang of loss. Over time, the brush and vines had closed in around the house, largely obscuring it from view and her pain along with it.
Within a few minutes, he pulled up at the house. The yard was clear and the home was once again visible from the road. It hadn’t changed much, minus the expected wear and tear after fifteen years of Maine winters. She scanned the yard, her eyes searching out the corner where the tree house had been. The two oak trees stood by themselves with no tree house between them.
“It’s gone,” Max said.
She glanced his way, unsettled by the ease with which he read her mind. “Oh,” was all she managed.
“It had mostly fallen down, so we took apart what was left.”
“Oh,” she said again. Really, Roxanne? ‘Oh’ is not the only word you can say. Her sly side sniped at her insecurity, and she gave herself a mental shake.
“Can we go inside?” she asked, restless to have something to do.
At Max’s nod, she climbed out and walked to the front porch. Max followed a bit more slowly. He looked puzzled when she reached for the door handle and it turned easily. “Pretty sure I locked up when I left earlier.”
They stepped inside, and Roxanne slowly strolled through the empty rooms, her mind spinning with memories of afternoons here with Max. Max seemed distracted. When they reached the upstairs, he paused in the hall where the folding stairs that led to the attic were open. “What the hell?”
“Max, what’s wrong?” she asked as he quickly climbed the stairs into the attic. She followed him up the stairs, her mouth dropping open when she peeked up through the ceiling to find boxes torn apart in the attic.