Page 20 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts
“You were friends with Aspen’s father?”
“Uh. No. It was someone else.”
“So this was before Aspen was born.”
Though Garrett’s statement had seemed both obvious and innocuous, Dean didn’t confirm it. “Jane was passionate and charismatic. She had some pretty strong beliefs.”
“About?”
“The environment. Loved the forest, loved trees. I mean, she named her kid Aspen, for crying out loud. That’s how much she loved trees.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Garrett said. “In New Hampshire, trees are the canvas of our lives.”
Dean’s eyebrows lifted. “Thank you, Robert Frost.”
“I’m just saying, you’d be pretty miserable if you lived in this state and didn’t like trees. I mean, except when the leaves fall. Only an idiot likes that.”
“Gosh, how you used to complain when I made you rake.”
Garrett gestured to the picture window. “Do you know how many trees you have out there?”
“Why do you think we took you in? I haven’t raked since.”
Garrett chuckled. He used to hate the annual project, but as he got older and grew more and more to appreciate his auntand uncle, he went out of his way to get the leaves taken care of for them—and manage a lot of the other more difficult chores around the house. It was the least he could do. “I was a pain in the rear.”
“You were a kid,” Dean said. “A normal kid.”
Far from normal, considering the trouble he’d gotten into before he’d moved in with Dean and Deborah.
Dean continued. “Aspen’s mother was obsessed with saving the trees. All the trees.”
“Ah.” Lumber was one of the biggest industries in New Hampshire. He imagined a lone woman carrying a sign and protesting the billion-dollar industry.
“If she’d become a lawyer or gone into politics, perhaps she could have gotten legislation that changed the way the industry worked, but she didn’t want to change it. She wanted to do away with it. She had a following, a bunch of fellow college students who practically worshipped her. Obviously, they had no real impact.”
“More Don Quixote versus windmills than David versus Goliath.”
“Exactly. But Jane was determined, and like I said”—again, he tapped his head—“not entirely sane. She’d discovered one company that she was convinced was destroying the earth, and when they refused to bow to her demands?—”
“She had demands?”
“That they stop murdering the trees.”
“Very rational.”
“In her defense, there are rules to protect the forest, and this company was not following them—and covering it up. But Jane was fierce. She did her homework. She became obsessed with proving their neglect.”
“Did she?”
“Yup. And they received a slap on the wrist and a fine and kept on going, business as usual. Though by all accounts, they started obeying the rules, so she did have an impact, albeit a small one. But it wasn’t what she wanted. She’d hoped they’d be put out of business, and when they weren’t, it pushed her over the edge.”
Dean lowered the footrest on his recliner, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees. In that moment, he looked older than his years. His wrinkles more pronounced, his skin nearly gray.
Was his uncle healthy? Surely if he wasn’t, he or Deborah would tell Garrett.
He couldn’t imagine losing this man, who was more of a father than his own had ever been.
“Uncle, are you okay?”
