The Caledonian Inheritance (The Athena Effect) (3 page)

Layla nodded encouragement, drawing her out, “And?”

Millie paused for dramatic effect, “He claimed that your grandmother paid the builder in pure gold ingots, and that there were plenty more where that came from. Rumor had it that the family swindled it from miners who struck it rich, or stole it from a courier.”

Layla frowned, “He said they were thieves?” In trying to piece together her past, she’d already constructed a narrative in her mind of a noble but tragic family, and she didn’t want it tainted with tales of ill-gotten gains. She’d
had enough of that already.

Millie shook her head with conviction. “Con artists and swindlers. They say that the money is what cursed them, because someone came looking for it. Killed them all in their beds and burned down their fine house. Mind you, these were only rumors, but why else would none of them have made it out alive? All seven of them? If that maid hadn’t pulled your mama out of her nursery you wouldn’t even be here!”

Layla nodded sadly. Her mother had been robbed of her entire past that fateful night, and the foundation had been laid for the destruction of her future. It certainly seemed like a dark cloud of doom was lingering over her family.

Millie
stopped long enough to notice the look on Layla’s face, and she flushed pale blue with sympathy, finally realizing she may have gone a bit too far. She clicked her tongue, “Tragic, simply tragic.”

She studied Layla shrewdly for a moment, changing the subject, “Have you gotten anyone to draw up the plans for the rebuild?”

Layla shook her head, “No, not yet. I’ve been focused on finding contractors for the road improvements. I’m not really sure how to go about starting on the actual house… What do
you
think I should do?”

Being asked for advice was like music to Millie’s ears. Layla watched her colors brighten and nodded encouragement, eager to
see her project move forward. What she didn’t realize was that Millie had ulterior motives, and was already busy hatching plans of her own.

Having run out of local singles to practice her matchmaking skills on, Millie was cooking up a plot to introduce Layla to her own handsome grandson, who j
ust happened to be an architect with a construction firm in the nearby city of Ukiah. Sometimes, the old woman thought with a wry smile, the stars simply aligned.

“There’s someone I’d like
for you to meet… My grandson Conrad. He works for a local builder that specializes in all kinds of restorations, and he’s only about an hour’s drive away. He might be able to give you some advice about how to get started with your project.”

“That would be nice,” Layla s
miled.

“It’s better than nice… It’s kismet.”

“Kismet?” she asked.

Millie just smiled, “Why, it’s
fate
! You want to re-create an old house, and Conrad is an architect! He also happens to be very interested in historical accuracy. He was in charge of rebuilding the historic downtown section of Ukiah.”

“That sounds perfect,” Layla
nodded with enthusiasm, mirroring Millie’s rising excitement. “When can I speak with him?”

“Well, he happens to be coming to town to meet me for lunch tomorrow… You should join us! I can have your documents ready by then.”
She laughed inwardly at how clever her plan was. “How about you stop by around noon?”

~

Ramon pulled his police cruiser across the street from the courthouse and sat with the engine idling. He recognized the shiny new car parked out front, and it made him wonder what that redhead was up to this time. After a cold but uneventful winter, a spring full of promise blew the two cute cousins back into town, with Layla’s twin brother and Cali’s suspicious looking boyfriend in tow. They moved into a big hunting lodge on the edge of town and kept to themselves, setting the small-town tongues wagging.

Their mere presence
had stirred up the sleepy backwater, sparking rumors and getting Ramon preoccupied with Layla all over again. He killed the engine and sighed with frustration. In the few weeks since she’d been in town, he hadn’t managed to run into her face to face, and it almost felt like she was purposefully trying to avoid him.

He considered marching right in to say hello, but he
had no real business at the courthouse, and he didn’t want to look like he was stalking her. Besides, he knew that Millie would only hijack the conversation, and he wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise.

And
he really wanted to have a word with Layla. To be honest, he wanted a lot more than just a word with her, but there were things that he needed to know, and he was more than a little afraid of what he might find out.

Ramon had casually questioned the landlord that was leasing the house to the young people,
but the man was vague with details about their income, repeating something he’d been told about them moving here from Los Angeles with trust funds and investments. New cars and motorbikes gleamed in the driveway of their large rented house, and delivery trucks rumbled through town regularly, bearing furniture and state-of-the-art electronics. The cousins were throwing around a suspicious amount of suddenly acquired wealth, and thanks to Millie, everyone in town knew there were big construction plans in the works.

Rumors of illicit activity on their remote property abounded, and a local hiker claimed to have encountered a group of armed men
only this past fall. As much as Sherriff Brown trusted Caledonia, believing the girl and her parents to be penniless innocents, the whole thing was starting to seem undeniably suspicious.

To add to the mystery,
Ramon couldn’t seem to find any information about where the twins had materialized from. He ran a cursory background check, surprised to find no records of Layla or her brother ever having worked or attended school anywhere in the state of California. There was something fishy going on, and Ramon couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that it was something illegal.

He was after all, a lawman.

It was troubling, because he really wanted to get to know Layla a whole lot better. The first time he met her she seemed so sweet and friendly that he was immediately attracted to her, and he could have sworn the feeling was mutual. She’d disappeared abruptly that very same day, in the wake of a visit by some pretty shady characters. He still couldn’t quite figure out what had really gone down that day, and it only added to the cloud of mystery that swirled around her.

The courthouse door swung open and Ramon watched as Layla burst out, blinking in the bright sunshine. She wore a pencil skirt topped with a lacy blouse and a multi stranded pearl choker that gleamed around her slender neck. High heels accented her long legs, and her hair was pinned up with just a few tendrils coming loose around her face. In a jeans and cowboy boots kind of town, she stood out like a sore thumb.

She looked younger than she was, but sophisticated at the same time. She looked like a city girl– a rich girl. And once again, that begged the question … Just where
did
all of that money come from?

Layla looked up to the clear blue sky, and he saw her chest rise as she took a deep breath with a smile of satisfaction. He watched
as she smoothed her skirt, zipped open her bag and fished for her keys as she walked to her car. She suddenly pitched forward, letting out a squeak as she lost her balance. Her foot wrenched out of the shoe whose heel had wedged into a crack in the sidewalk, she caught herself for a moment, hovering in the air for a split second before she went down onto both her hands and knees.

Ramon was out of his patrol car in a flash, bounding across the street to crouch by her side. “Are you okay?”

Layla lifted her head to see a familiar pair of dark eyes filled with concern. She nodded mutely, speechless with a mixture of shock and surprise. Strong hands took hold of her arms just above her elbows, and he lifted her to her feet like she was weightless. Still stunned, she faltered, wobbling on her lone spike heel. He gripped her firmly, guiding her to the bench in front of the courthouse.

“You’d better sit down,” he told her, turning to retrieve her shoe. He wrenched it out of the crevice and brought it to her, squatting down to feel her ankle while she watched him with big eyes. “Can you bend it?” he asked, his hands warm on her skin.

She nodded vigorously, snatching her foot back like he’d just burned her. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He seemed taken aback, and extended his hand for a shake. “Layla right? We met last fall… Remember? Ramon?”

“Y- yes,” she nodded again. She took his hand tentatively, forgetting to breathe when his thick fingers closed over hers.

“You need to be careful on these walkways. There’s a lot of cracks in this old cement.”

She watched his dark eyes crinkle at the corners as his face broke into a friendly grin, “Here you go, Cinderella.” He handed her back her shoe while kneeling down on one knee like a man proposing marriage. Her throat tightened and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. His eyes narrowed, and he scrutinized her with a frighteningly powerful fuscia interest. Her heart started racing with a sudden, irrational panic.

She broke eye contact, snatching her shoe
from him and slipping it on. “Thank you. I… I… I… have to get going… I’m going to be late,” she stammered. 

They both stood, and Layla smoothed her skirt self-consciously before pulling her keys out of her purse. She took a step towards her nearby car, but her nervous hands fumbled the keys, and they went clattering down onto the pavement. The
two of them bent to pick them up simultaneously, bumping their heads together on the way down.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, rubbing his temple. “You okay?”

Layla’s face was flushed red and burning with heat when she straightened up and locked eyes with him again. “I’m fine,” she declared, her voice high and false, “It’s alright.” 

Now he was at a loss for words, admiring the way the sunlight reflected the flecks of gold in her green and brown eyes. “How do you like it?” he managed to ask. “I mean… The town…”

“It’s fine,” she said.

“How’s your cousin doing?”

“She’s fine.”

“I heard she was working over at Doc Wilson’s clinic.’’

“Yes,” her eyes shifted away and back to his nervously.

“New car?” he asked, gesturing with a toss of his handsome head.

She nodded wordlessly, swallowing hard. Damn, he was just as cute as she remembered.

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

She could feel burning curiosity tinged with bitter lime suspicion, and she rushed to slip behind the wheel, desperate to escape his penetrating eyes. Her hammering heart screamed out a warning, and she gripped the steering wheel to keep her hands from trembling. He was dangerous, because just standing next to him threatened to upend the comforting order of her newfound routine. She started the engine, nodding towards him curtly. “Well… Thank you again.”

Layla pulled away, drawing a ragged breath and finally glancing into her rear view mirror to see him standing at the curb with his hands thrust deep into his pockets. He was cloaked in a mist of disappointment and frustration, and she wondered exactly what he expected from her anyway.

No, she hadn’t forgotten about Ramon at all. She’d seen him from a distance, but after her ordeal at the hands of Max, she wasn’t feeling too flirtatious, and she’d gone out of her way to avoid him. Everything she’d seen in the past year had made her doubly suspicious of any man’s motives, and her run-in with Senator Blackwell only served to confirm that dark secrets could lurk behind even the most upstanding image.

She could see that Ramon’s smile was genuine, but something about him unsettled her, and she preferred to avoid that feeling. She had plans, and she mustn’t allow herself to be sidetracked from her mission. She shouldn’t risk getting involved with someone who could prove to be so… so…
disturbing
. She took another deep breath and brought her hand to her throat, twisting the pearls on her choker one by one like a strand of worry beads.

She had a sudden urge to go shopping.

~

Chapter Three

CLEANED UP

~

Caledonia threw a roll of tarps onto the massive bonfire, standing back with Michael and Calvin to watch the burning plastic send greasy black smoke spiraling into the sky.
Recent wet weather made it safe to conduct a burn, but the rains also made a muddy mess of the trails leading into the remote encampments, so even after a few sunny days getting around in the backwoods was proving to be difficult.

Still, the three of them were making great progress. It was their second full day of cleanup, and they were finally wrapping up the
ir demolition of the last of the makeshift camps.

“They’re not gonna like what they find when they get back,” Calvin said, heaving the final armload of splintered drying racks onto the bonfire.

“Good,” Caledonia replied. “Then they’ll get the message that they’re no longer welcome.”

The
mild climate and rugged terrain that nurtured the dense redwood forests also made them an ideal location to conceal pot farms, and illegal growers had taken advantage of the property’s enormous size to build a sizeable marijuana operation on her land. Smaller operators had flown under the radar for years, but now Mexican cartels had taken over the spot, and Caledonia was dismayed to discover that a number of new plots had sprung up, tucked into hidden ravines and valleys. She vowed to rid her property of them once and for all.