Page 4 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“Fly over. How far could it be?”

“Don’t think I didn’t consider it. It’s only about a twenty-four-hour flight.”

Aspen groaned at the thought. “And probably a million dollars.”

“Not quite that bad. If you stay there, Danny and I will come visit for sure.”

“That would be…” The very thought of her best friend making a trip to see her choked her up again. But she wouldn’t be staying. She didn’t know a soul within a thousand miles of New Hampshire.

“Once you get a good night’s sleep, everything will seem brighter. You have a plan, of course.”

Aspen always had a plan. She had a notebook, where she’d lined out exactly what she’d be doing when she got to New Hampshire, beginning with meeting the contractor and getting the renovations going. Then she’d search the house and figure out why her dad had bought it. Then she’d…

Well, it got a little murky after that. Somehow, she’d find her mother and do right by her.Whatever that meant. If only Dad had given her a few more details.

It didn’t matter. The to-dos would fill themselves in.

“This is going to be good for you.” Jaslynn’s voice took on the confident tone she used whenever she talked about the Savior she trusted so well. “God loves you, and He has good plans for you. I have a strong feeling that this trip is a big part of those plans.”

“I hope you’re right.” Her life couldn’t go forward until she unlocked the secret her father had tried to share.

“I’ll be praying for you, my friend. Keep in touch.”

Aspen ended the call and swiped at her tears. Thoughts of her father gave way to thoughts of his final words, and then to the reading of the will in Kona.

Her fatherhadowned a house, one he’d purchased a couple of years before his death. He hadn’t traveled to New Hampshire in that time, which meant he must’ve bought the place sight unseen.

In Coventry, New Hampshire, the town he had grown up in. The town where Aspen had spent the first year of her life.

The last place Aspen’s mother had been seen alive.

Dad must have known something about her mother’s disappearance, but he’d kept that information from Aspen.

As hard as this was going to be, she was going to figure out why.

CHAPTER THREE

Garrett McCarthy glanced back at the big old house. This was his opportunity to establish himself as a general contractor. He’d taken small jobs here and there—a kitchen remodel, an addition over a garage—but he’d never been hired to manage the renovation of an entire house. When he completed this job well, new opportunities should open up.

He’d arrived at the two-story home early that morning, plowed the drive, and had almost finished shoveling the walkway when the growl of an engine interrupted the silence. As remote as this house was, he assumed his client was arriving. With the shovel propped beneath his hand, he faced the road. A small red SUV turned down the long driveway and parked beside his pickup. A woman in a puffy parka, the hood pulled up over her head, stepped out of the vehicle and approached him.

When she reached the shade of the house, she took off her sunglasses and pushed back her hood.

His heart did a weird little hitch.

He didn’t know what he’d expected, but not this.

She was beautiful with dark blond hair and pale green eyes. Despite her puffy blue jacket, it was clear that she was trim and fit and…

“Aspen Kincaid.” She held out her hand, covered in what looked like expensive leather, and he yanked off his dirty work glove to shake it.

“Garrett McCarthy. Welcome to your house.”

She looked up at it, and so did he, feeling protective of the old place that had been so poorly used in recent months. The cedar siding was faded, splintered in places. The concrete steps behind him, though clear of snow, were cracked, and the iron railings listed to one side. From the front, it didn’t look like much, especially with the rise that blocked most of the structure from the road. But, despite all that, the fresh snow enshrouding it made it look…well, if not new, then at least bright and clean.

He couldn’t read the look on her face. She seemed shocked.

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” he said. “We can freshen up the siding, or even paint it.” Though the thought of painting it did not set well. “Either way, it’ll look great when we’re done. A few of the rooms have been updated already. Not the kitchen or… most of the baths.” He’d have to explain about the creepy rooms in the basement, but not yet. “It’s functional. You should be able to live here while we do the renovations.” He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend the property. It was what it was. Maybe it wasn’t her dream home, but his understanding was that she’d inherited the place free and clear. Whatever she could sell it for would be money in her pocket.