The Caledonian Inheritance (The Athena Effect)

by Anderson, Derrolyn

  “Let’s try it my way first,” she said confidently, refusing to be swayed.

  After decades spent in the backwoods, Jesse was afraid to leave the property, and had nowhere to go anyway. Cali spent an emotional day spent boxing up her most sentimental items and moved him down from the mountains into her parent’s cabin, telling him she needed a guide and caretaker to stay there and keep watch over the property. It was the perfect arrangement, and the snug little cabin made for a luxurious retirement home in comparison to Jesse’s former campsite accommodations.

  So plans had been made for the following morning, and their new dirt bikes were ready to carry them to the most remote plots to get started on the demolition. Calvin and Cali walked into the house arm in arm, settling on the couch with the dog snuggled up between them. Layla came down the stairs and headed for the kitchen, calling out, “Does that beast really need to be on the furniture? Doesn’t it have fleas or something?”

  “Oh lighten up Layla,” Calvin said, ruffling the dog’s fur and getting an adoring look in return. “Poddy’s a good boy.”

  “He had a bath last night,” Caledonia called after her. Her eyes met Calvin’s. “What did you just call him? Poddy?”

  Before he could say anything Layla was back. “Hey Cali? Do you want to come into town with me tomorrow? I need to go to city hall to check on the permits before we can start getting bids on the road grading.”

  Caledonia grimaced, “And deal with Millie? No thanks.”

  “Oh, come on,” Layla sighed, “She’s not so bad when you get to know her. Millie’s really been going out of her way to help us cut through the red tape.”

  Caledonia shrugged, “Sorry, but I’m going up to the site with the guys tomorrow anyway. Jesse says we need to get started cleaning up if we want to beat them before they come back for the spring planting, and it’s finally dry enough to get the bikes back in there.”

  “Suit yourself,” Layla sniffed as she flounced back into the kitchen. “I’d much rather deal with Millie than tramp through a bunch of muddy old weeds.”

  Calvin took Cali’s bag and pulled out the dog treats. Tripod’s ears shot up and he jumped down to sit expectantly at Calvin’s feet. He cocked his head from side to side, licking his chops.

  “Watch this,” Calvin told Cali. He addressed at the dog, who was now practically vibrating with crimson excitement. “Poddy… Roll over.”

  The dog complied, wavering a bit as he struggled to sit back up without his missing leg. Calvin tossed him treat, laughing when he lunged to snatch it out of mid-air. “Good boy!”

  “I told you he was a smart one,” Cali laughed.

  Calvin feigned offense, “Don’t I get any credit?”

  She smiled with amusement. “For teaching an old dog a new trick?”

  He reached over to pull her closer, kissing her cheek before whispering, “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  She giggled when his warm breath tickled her ear. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she replied, just before she turned to face him for a real kiss.

  ~

  Chapter Two

  TRIPPED UP

  ~

  Layla was in high spirits as she drove into town that beautiful spring morning. She parked in front of the courthouse and stepped out onto the uneven sidewalk, bending to adjust the strap of one of her sling-back sandals. She stood to straighten her skirt and smooth her hairdo, tucking a stray curl back into her tidy French twist. She strode into city hall with the confidence of someone who was going to get exactly what she wanted.

  She had proven to be the best one in the household to deal with bureaucracy, as she excelled at cutting through even the most exasperating red tape. Layla had the uncanny knack of determining exactly what motivated each person to perform as she wished, and she managed to charm her way through every obstacle with ease. Even the town busybody had quickly warmed up to her, and only partly because of the way Layla wielded her special power.

  Once Millie had gotten over Layla’s uncanny resemblance to her storied grandmother, the old woman found that she approved of everything about the pretty young redhead. First of all, unlike most young girls of her generation, she always dressed like a lady, favoring modest blouses, skirts and heels. The old woman much preferred Layla’s attire over the torn jeans and heavy motorcycle boots that her wild-haired blonde cousin sported.

  In addition to that, her manners were polished, and she was always respectful of her elders, reminding Millie of herself as a girl. Layla listened without interrupting, said please and thank you, and always sat upright with her ankles daintily crossed in front of her. There was something so refreshingly old-fashioned about her; she was unlike all of the young hooligans running around these days, their faces always glued to their phones.

  Finally, Millie was mightily impressed by the Layla’s desire to re-build an area landmark, no matter how notorious its former occupant had been. The girl seemed interested in everything Millie had to say, providing the old woman with a rapt audience for her never-ending stories about the town and its denizens. When Layla’s flashing green and topaz brown eyes met hers, Millie felt more important than ever.

  Millie liked to feel important.

  She looked up when Layla walked into the courthouse, taking note of the girl’s luxe but modest attire with a nod of appreciation, “Why, Good morning Miss Mackenzie. What a pleasant surprise.”

  “Good morning Miss Millie. You know that you can call me Layla,” she said with warmth, immediately putting the older woman at ease. “I’m here to see about the permits for the road grading. The ground is finally drying out, and we’re all eager to get started on the construction.”

  Millie waved her around the counter, gesturing to a chair next to her desk, “Well sweetheart, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll look for that paperwork… Say, I was just about to fix myself a cup of tea…Would you care to join me?”

  Layla smiled pleasantly, “Earl Gray?”

  Millie nodded with approval at how Layla always remembered every little detail, “It’s my favorite.”

  “Yes please. I’d love a cup.”

  Soon the two women were sipping tea, with Layla listening politely as Millie rattled on about some local scandal involving an ugly divorce. She watched the old woman’s colors brighten and shift as she recalled the outrage, and she inclined her head in sympathy. Millie finally checked herself, stopping to take a breath.

  “That’s enough said about that… Say! I did a little digging into the town archives, and found out a few more things about the Mackenzies that you might find interesting.”

  Layla leaned forward in her chair, her patience rewarded. “How wonderful! What?”

  “I was talking to Jenny down at the diner and she told me that Joan over at the salon has an uncle who…” Layla nodded, trying to keep her eyes from glazing over as Millie ran down the provenance of the latest rumor.

  “… and it seems as though her grandfather was a bricklayer, and she remembers him talking about working on the house.”

  Layla perked up, “My grandmother’s house?”

  “The very same. Up on the mountain.”

  “Did he know my grandmother? Did he say anything about her?”

  Millie smiled, meting out the juiciest information at a slower pace, “Apparently, she showed up at the site quite often to check on the progress, and he said she was really picky about how the work was coming along.”

  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 just 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 smiled.

  “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.”