“My husband has business all over the world,” Henrietta said. “And I have friends in every location.”
“What makes you stay in Cranberry Cove?” Elena asked.
“Oh, darling. Have you ever seen a more wonderful place?” Henrietta gestured toward the water just beyond, which glowed dark blue in the late hour. “I grew up in this house, and I’ll die in this house. I told that to my husband when we met.”
Elena folded her lips, wondering if she was capable enough as a journalist to find a way to the truth. “Tell me,” she said, “about the history of these wonderful houses.”
Henrietta blushed. “Well, my father was a part of the planning committee, which you might already know. He was a mighty man—a filmmaker. Maybe you’ve seen his films?In the RainandTempestuousare my favorites, but he filmed thirty-eight in all.”
Elena had never heard of those films before, nor had Natalie. But they pretended they knew all about them, gushing about Henrietta’s father’s eye for detail. Henrietta was pleased. She also, Elena recognized, hadn’t asked yet for Elena’s name, nor Natalie’s.
This was good, especially after the work Rosa had done to try to bring down the Cranberry Cove project.
Henrietta went on, explaining, “My father wanted the beauty of this world, but he had no interest in the small-town mentality of the people in it. I hope you don’t take offense. But he was a man from another world, a man who yearned for beauty. He didn’t want the simplistic gossip of Millbrook. Just listen to the name! Millbrook. I mean, I hate saying it myself. You must understand. It’s a wretched name.”
“Millbrook,” Elena repeated, trying not to laugh. “You’re right. It’s awful.”
“Terrible,” Natalie agreed. They were faking it as best as they could.
“Of course, back in the old days, people fought my father and his dear friend Judge Drury, the father of the current Judge Drury. Journalists were up in arms, and there were protests.”
“How did they get past all those blockades?” Elena asked.
Henrietta raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Why, money, of course? If you can pay the right people the right amount, it doesn’t matter who you support, what you say, or what you stand for. Money talks.”
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Henrietta got to her feet and smoothed her dress. “It’s really too early for my guests,” she saidsweetly. “I can’t imagine who would be here already.” And then she called out, “Tommy? Tommy, where are you? Tommy, can you get the door?”
Elena watched as a slumped-over twenty-something came down the stairs and scowled at his mother. He looked like he hadn’t showered in a few days. This was his kingdom. He didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do. Elena wanted to laugh at how outrageous it was.Even if you’re wealthy, it doesn’t mean your children will like you very much, she thought.
Henrietta chased him, muttering, “You can’t answer the door looking like that!”
“I’m not your butler,” Tommy mumbled back. He sounded vaguely high.
Elena and Natalie exchanged glances. Natalie muttered, “I think we should get out of here?”
But Elena pressed it. “I don’t know. She hasn’t given us explicit names yet.”
“I mean, she said her father and the judge paid people off,” Natalie offered. “Maybe that’ll give us a route to follow at least?”
Elena’s heart thumped. She was reminded of dangerous situations back in the Middle East, of pushing her luck in pursuit of a story. Then again, she didn’t imagine the elite Cranberry Cove residents were the type to hurt someone like Elena. But she didn’t want to be naive.
There was the sound of Henrietta opening the front door, followed by a cry of hello. “Baxter!” she said. “Why, you’ve come at the perfect time.”
Elena was on her feet, suddenly terrified. Natalie followed suit. “It’s Judge Drury,” Elena breathed. “He knows who I am.”
Natalie bowed her head in comprehension. If Baxter Drury saw Elena—Carmen’s daughter and Rosa’s granddaughter, he’d understand that they were investigating the current Cranberry Cove project and any potential corruption therein. Baxter mighthave already spoken to Greg at the retirement home about how he knew Natalie and Elena were sniffing them out. Greg had no friends beyond the elite. Maybe they’d already told him too much.
“Look,” Natalie whispered, pointing at the side door, which would presumably deposit them in the yard, where they could make a swift escape back to the car.
Elena wasn’t sure if this was practical. But as Judge Drury’s voice grew closer, Elena and Natalie hurried to the door and unlocked it. Elena raised a finger, listening intently as Judge Drury explained to Henrietta that he’d just been talking to the mayor of Millbrook, that they’d probably be able to break ground on the country club the minute the ground thawed out.
“How wonderful,” Henrietta said. “I was just telling these journalists about the mission of our fathers, and how grateful I am to be able to extend that mission to the twenty-first century.”
Judge Drury’s voice shivered. “You’re talking to journalists, Henrietta?”
There was silence. Slowly, Elena turned the doorknob, praying it wouldn’t squeak. As she tiptoed into the crisp evening air, she watched as Natalie turned to take a photograph of something on the wall, something Elena hadn’t seen. “Come on,” Elena mouthed. With that, Natalie and Elena raced out the door, closing the door behind them as they fled. Within seconds, Natalie was backing the car out of the driveway and speeding them out of Cranberry Cove’s housing district and across the way to the glorious, still-natural reserve, the one they wanted to destroy. “I want to see it again,” she whispered. “I want to see what they want to take away from us.”
Elena was quiet, her thoughts racing. They parked in the little gravel lot and got out of the car, their legs still shaking from their run. Natalie still had the camera with her. They picked their way through the dark woods and found themselves at theedge of the frigid beach, gazing out at the frothing waves. From this angle on the cove, you couldn’t even see the ugly mansions. It was a godsend. It felt like the last perfect place on earth.
