Jim Cavanaugh learns that his family's deaths were neither natural nor accidental. They'd been murdered and, as the sole survivor and CEO, he's on the hit list. Who is trying to take over the vast JJ Cavanaugh Enterprises and obtain the family wealth?Chapter 1 [Day 1]
Jim flies his small jet toward the private landing strip for one of the Cavanaugh family homes in the lush hills of northeastern Vermont, the one where he grew up. His gut tells him to be cautious. Why?
It must be left over from all that time with the black
widow, Candice Corbin. Now that's a woman he'd like to forget.
He shakes his head to clear his mind. Refocus. Let go of the past. Enjoy the here
and now.
Looking around from a distance as the estate comes into
view surrounded by the thick forest in rich autumn colors, he admires the way
his father had laid out the buildings on the land to the best advantages, being
so aesthetically pleasing with practical yet beautiful landscaping. The
stunning gardens behind the house were his mother's hobby, as was photography,
her work with both being featured in extensive photographic spreads in several
magazines.
He's home. But not. His family is all dead. What is home
without one's family? Jim is the only one left, his parents and twin brother,
along with his brother's wife and sons are gone, so Jim and his wife must
rebuild the Cavanaugh family so the Cavanaugh legacy lives on through him.
After taking out the wretched black widow, there is
finally a feeling of freedom, truly earned with their blood, sweat, and tears.
How appropriate the phrase. The time has come to put it all behind them, to
start anew. It is truly a great feeling, freedom. Yet the hairs on the back of
his neck tingle. Odd. He rubs his neck to stifle the nonsense.
Grabbing hold of Debra's hand, Jim sighs, content that their
nascent family can finally enjoy life without looking over their shoulders, having
secured the black widow behind bars for the rest of her life. Candy's desperate
plight to regain her freedom has met with failure again. The judge denied her
appeal. She was confident the lenient recycled governor would grant her
clemency, but he rejected her plea without hesitation. She sits on Death Row,
where she belongs. He chuckles at the thought of the self-centered
fashion-conscious Candy wearing an ugly orange jumpsuit every day.
"What?" his wife asks.
He shakes his head and shrugs. Debra quietly accepts his
response; he doesn't know. She isn't one to pry. Obviously he's pondering
something within his mental man-cave.
By default as the last adult survivor of the magnate, James
Joseph Cavanaugh ("The First" as Granddad called himself), Jim holds
all the responsibility and ownership of the family's business and personal multitrillion-dollar
domain. "The Second" by name, Jim is really the fourth in succession as
the last of the line at the time. Jim hadn't been groomed for it as was his
identical twin, older by eight minutes, yet Joe hardly served more than a
handful of years after their parents died. Granddad stepped down when Jim's
father took the helm, but Granddad was there to advise Joe as needed. Jim was
thrown into it cold; never prepped to take over, it was sink or swim. Later in
life than normal, he now has heirs to pass the keys to at some future point in
time. The remnant of the Cavanaugh family prospers.
By adopting Debra's children, the family surname lives on.
As for his infant twins, these boys will be joint heirs sustaining the paternal
bloodline rights of the firstborn. They will share that, unlike the previous
generation where his brother held that right and Jim got it only by default.
But, honestly, he'd rather his brother and his sons were alive to carry that
torch. He never expected it, never desired it, and struggles to carry on as his
progenitors had. Debra reassures him that he can do it, is doing it. Without
her, he's sure he would have crumbled under the pressure, the stress to be as
good at it as they were.
Moving forward, his
little family of four is taking a couple of weeks for enjoying some
new-family time here at one or both of the oldest family estates in Vermont
before the seven-months-long snow season begins in October.
Debra looks around the open pasture land behind the rambling
estate and the north side's barn and stables. "There were a slew of horses
out here when we flew over last year. Where are they?"
"They should be pastured here, grazing in the
sunshine. It's too soon to have them stabled for harsh winter weather." Jim
looks around, noticing irregularities at the house itself. "Something's
not right. I can feel it."
Her eyebrows scrunch above her blue eyes in concern. "Me,
too. Should we leave?"
"Yes."
Without touching down, he lifts the nose and proceeds to
his grandfather's home a few miles to the south.
She asks, "What do you think is wrong?"
Before replying, Jim carefully eyes his wife to interpret
her emotions, apparently unruffled. "I don't know. Probably nothing."
His gut is in a knot, defying his reassuring calmness.
"You don't believe that any more than I do.
Something is wrong. I know it. It didn't look right, doesn't feel right."
Just as he thought, she isn't allowing her anxiety to show. She's calm and
self-assured, as usual.
Landing at the other house. The hangar's remote doesn't
work, so he has to idle and open the doors by hand. Knowing the batteries are
new, he mutters to himself, "Odd."
