Chapter 357

Chapter 357:

“Cedar Lake,” Richard confirmed, his voice rough with emotion. “We had a cabin there for years. Sold it to the Hendersons when Rose turned sixteen. She never quite fit in there. It was Camille’s special place first.”

Margaret opened the album with trembling hands, revealing photos of a young Camille standing proudly on a wooden dock, fishing rod in hand. “We taught her to swim in that lake. Richard would sit on the dock for hours with her, fishing.”

“And the cabin itself?” Alexander pressed, leaning forward intensely.

“Two bedrooms, stone fireplace,” Margaret said, flipping to another photo that showed the cabin’s rustic interior. “Camille carved her initials in the mantel when…”

“She was eight. I was so angry at the time.” Her voice broke. “Now I’d give anything to see those marks again.”

Richard pointed to the fireplace in the photo. “That stone was brought from a local quarry. The builder told us it would ‘last through anything.’ Outlast us all, he said.”

“Rose was obsessed with the place,” Margaret added, her eyes distant with memory. “After we sold it, she kept asking to go back. Said it was the only place she felt like a real part of the family.”

Alexander snapped his fingers at his head of security. “Check property records for Cedar Lake. Focus on recent transactions involving the Henderson family.”

“We checked all Lewis family properties,” an FBI agent said, frowning.

“Not if it changed hands recently,” Stefan countered. “Rose plans for everything. She could have purchased it from whoever owns it now.”

Hands flew over keyboards. Minutes ticked by. Stefan resumed his pacing, while Margaret continued turning pages in the photo album, tears silently tracking down her face.

“Were there any distinctive features?” Alexander asked. “Anything that would help us identify it if Rose has modified it?”

Richard nodded slowly. “There was a boathouse, painted blue. And a cluster of three pine trees right at the water’s edge. Lightning struck one, split it right down the middle, but it kept growing. Camille called it the twin tree.”

“Got something,” called a woman at a computer terminal. “Cedar Lake property, previously owned by the Henderson family, sold one month ago to Phoenix Rising LLC.” She looked up, her expression grim. “Registered agent is R. Thornton.”

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“Thornton?” Margaret gasped. “That was Rose’s last name in the foster system, before we adopted her.”

“One month ago,” Alexander repeated, his voice tight. “She’s been planning this for weeks.”

The analyst continued. “Cash transaction. Sale price well above market value, suggesting urgency.”

Alexander leaned over the screen. “Send me those coordinates. What’s the satellite view show?”

The image appeared on the main display screen: a cabin nestled in dense woods, a narrow dirt road leading to it, a small dock extending into the lake behind it. And at the water’s edge, the unmistakable silhouette of three tall pines, one with a distinctive split trunk.

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