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.Renters or upwardly mobile singles and families who had bought in during recent decades occupied most of the picturesque old houses.A squarish, three-story yellow brick with a porch that ran the full width in front, its roof anchored by six white Ionic columns, Grandpa Liggett’s house featured a small, flat-roofed projection with two windows that likely opened onto a partial top floor.In contrast to most of the homes along the street, this one boasted a driveway of two concrete strips at one side.I parked my Grand Cherokee behind Kelli’s rental car shortly after noon.We headed for the front steps.Pressing a button beside the oversize mahogany door produced the sound of chimes.A Kelli Kane different from the one we had encountered earlier opened the door.This was probably closer to the real Kelli, shorn of the suave public demeanor.She wore a sweat-dampened, faded Yellowstone National Park tee shirt over well-worn brown jeans.Floppy sandals adorned a strong pair of feet with bright red toenails.I suspected the earthy young woman with a certain natural charm was seldom seen in the clandestine world she occupied before coming to Nashville.At the moment, however, the charm appeared a bit bent out of shape, as evidenced by the anger that darkened her eyes.“Come on in,” she said, waving a hand.“I’ve been searching for identity clues they might have left behind.”I looked past her into the room.“What did you find?”“Zilch.”A strong smell of tobacco smoke greeted us just inside the door.Now that I had become a confirmed non-smoker, the smell was enough to bring a twitch to my nose.It also told me the origin of Arthur Liggett’s emphysema.In the living room, elaborate ornamentation on the chairs and a large sofa struck me as French provincial, though I admit I’m no authority on period furniture styles.I knew Jill would straighten me out if I had it wrong.Tapestries bearing ancient Roman scenes hung on the walls.I suspected the décor had not been altered in many years.The only modern touch was a large screen TV at one side of the room.A massive brass umbrella stand with some kind of figure on top stood near the door.“The worst mess is in here,” Kelli said, leading us down a hallway papered in subdued brown stripes to a room her grandfather used as an office.She moved with an athletic grace that hinted at a strict fitness regimen.I had worked out with fitness machines at an earlier stage in life.Now the closest I got to weights was in weight watching.Drawers had been pulled out of a file cabinet, their contents dumped on the floor.Books and papers were strewn about, swept from shelves along one wall.It looked like the aftermath of a hurricane down in the neighborhood of our Florida condo, but it didn’t appear to be the work of professionals.For one thing, the chair and sofa cushions in the living room hadn’t been cut open.“I’ll have to get this cleaned up before Grandpa comes home,” she said, shaking her head.“I’d hate for him to see what they’ve done.He’s an exceptionally neat and organized person.This would kill him.”“By the way,” I said, “yesterday you made the comment that as long as you’d known him, your grandfather had never been a complainer.That sounds like you haven’t known him all that long.What’s the story?”She arched a well-sculptured eyebrow.“You’re quite perceptive, Greg.Warren told me you had the reputation of being an excellent investigator.I can see why.”“Be careful you don’t give him the big head,” Jill said, grinning as she folded her arms.Kelli leaned against her grandfather’s large oak roll-top desk, its pigeonholes now bare thanks to the burglar’s handiwork.“My dad, Vincent Kane, ran a liquor store.That made him persona non grata to the Liggetts, particularly my grandmother, who was a straight-laced Southern Baptist.She would have nothing to do with him and absolutely forbade my mother to marry him.”Jill gave me a knowing look.“I can sympathize with your mother.My father tried to talk me out of marrying Greg.He didn’t have a very high regard for career military men.He finally gave in when I refused to budge.Obviously, your mom ignored her mother’s protests, too.”“She did, but Grandma refused to relent.Mom and Dad wound up eloping and moving to Seattle.I had no contact with my grandparents until after I graduated from college.”“And went to work for the congressman,” I said without thinking.Her glance bore an icy sheen.“I thought we had a deal.”“We only checked a couple of open sources,” I said with a shrug.“Newspapers, to be exact.You were chronicled in the press for several years.Practically a minor celebrity.”Her frown deepened.“Then I’m sure you found out about John Hunter.”“And his death at the hands of terrorists.We noticed that Kelli Kane Hunter faded from the headlines after that.I saw no reason to look any further.”She gave a mirthless laugh.“You would have found nothing.Unfortunately, there was no way to erase my past.My parents were killed in the San Francisco earthquake in 1989.Not long after that, my grandmother died.Grandpa Liggett retired a couple of years later.He tried to stay in touch with me after that
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