WEST STEWARTSTOWN – Stewartstown is a town on edge.

This town of about 800 people sits on one edge of the White Mountains and one edge of the Connecticut River. The people who live here have spent days answering the questions of strangers while trying to make them feel welcome.

They’ve been on edge as they have waited for answers to questions of their own: What happened to the sweet, quiet 11-year-old girl who liked basketball and disappeared from her home? How did her lifeless body end up being pulled out of the cold waters of the Connecticut River a week later?

Through the White Mountains and on the edge of the Canadian border, everything in Stewartstown feels like it’s on a precipice, like you’re leaning against the railing of a viewing deck looking down on green fields and giant forests of evergreens, cow pastures and trout streams.

This is where Celina Cass grew up. Authorities say Cass, who lived with her older sister, mother and stepfather, was last seen at her home computer about 9 p.m. July 25 and was gone the next morning.

Police said there was no sign of a struggle, and there was no indication she ran away or that someone took her.

Divers found Cass’ body Monday in the Connecticut River less than half a mile from her home, a week after she went missing. Based on what investigators saw when they recovered Cass’ body, they began a criminal inquiry. On Tuesday, the state attorney general’s office announced that the cause and manner of death are still pending following an autopsy while toxicology tests are conducted. No arrests have been made.

The building where Cass was living is right in the middle of what passes for the main drag in Stewartstown. A big ramshackle building with three or four apartments inside, the three-floor building has a small yard with porches in front and on one side. There are four “No Trespassing” signs posted outside and an American flag flying off the front porch.

Now, there is also police crime tape strung around the building, a state trooper pacing the sidewalk out front and two big crime scene trucks parked in the driveway.

It sits between a restaurant and an old building that once served as the Stewartstown West Side School but is now for sale. Across the street is an empty storefront, Linda’s Fashion Factory Outlet.

There’s also Marquis Arm Trucking, where a small army of media has set up camp, broadcasting from inside a forest of television satellite dishes and watching detectives in plastic booties and rubber gloves filter in and out of the house across the street.

Nick and Christina Borchu came home to that scene last week returning from their honeymoon in Florida. The newlyweds live in an apartment across the street from the Cass home. Christina, who works at a nearby diner, has served Celina and her sister ice cream for years.

“She was very nice, polite. She was always a cute little kid,” Christina Brochu said. “Everyone wants to know what happened to that little girl. It’s terrible.”

Celina liked chocolate chip cookie dough.

Daddy’s little girl

Pressing questions and no answers are what most people in Stewartstown are talking about this week. A few miles away in Columbia, Celina’s biological father, Adam Laro, said the last time he saw Celina was a week before she went missing. She showed him her latest stellar report card with pride. She asked him to come to some of her basketball games this summer.

“I was devastated. I break down here and there,” Laro said. “When? Why? Who did it? If it’s an accident, I need to know. I need some answers. That was the last time I saw her, and I didn’t go to any of her games.”

Laro lives in Columbia with his parents, Walter and Marcia Laro, on an isolated piece of land, a 20-minute drive that feels like a 60-minute drive from Stewartstown. Celina, and her older sister Kayla used to love to fish in the pond Walter Laro keeps stocked with huge rainbow trout or bump around the yard in a four-wheeler.

One of Adam Laro’s fondest memories of Celina is her excitement the first time she caught a fish from that pond. It was a good 2 pounds and nearly pulled her little purple fishing rod into the pond until Dad came over to help.

“It’s dealing with no answers, that’s the hardest part. I can’t see her. I miss her very much. She’s my little girl,” Adam Laro said. “It hurts. It hurts a lot. It’s crushing.”

The Laros said they’re trying to stay away from the rumors and speculation around the disappearance and death of Celina, but it’s hard not to hear the talk. Walter Laro just wants justice. He’s spending a lot of time in the woods these days, chopping down firewood for the winter to keep his mind from racing.

“We miss her. It’s a big, big loss to this family. A big loss. She was a great girl,” he said. “She was just special. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why someone would want to do that to her. She was too vulnerable. She was so caring.”

Change in atmosphere

Stewartstown is a different town than it was a few weeks ago, at least for now. It’s not just a nearly four-hour drive from Nashua. In many ways, it’s a time apart.

Many residents in the area, in Colebrook, Pittsburgh and Canaan, Vt., as well as Stewartstown, have fallen on hard times since the Ethan Allen furniture factory in Beecher Falls, Vt., laid off most of its workers a couple of years ago. Many went to work at the Balsams resort in Dixville Notch, but now that is closing, too, for renovations.

The police presence in town is as strange as the media. The big draws are the annual Mud Run in Colebrook and Softball Weekend in Canaan. That’s pretty much the only thing that draws crowds and regular police patrols.

“Around here if you hear a honk, it’s someone waving to you,” Christina Brochu said.

“Not someone waving the middle finger,” Nick Brochu said.

That’s changed for a lot of people. The Brochus make sure to lock their door and close their blinds now. When they’re outside at night, it’s always together.

“There’s too many unanswered questions. There’s someone that did this and is just walking around,” Christina Brochu said. “People are angry that someone could do this to a child and upset that it’s taking so long.”

There’s a small park around the corner from Celina’s home. Old blue and white flowers are drying on a picnic table, strewn among a dozen or so old candles, a few still burning.

Huge puddles of melted wax are dried on the table and dripping over the sides. Townspeople have held a vigil for the girl there every night at 8, since she disappeared. A cardboard sits inside a gazebo nearby, holding candles, missing child posters and printouts of poems, ready for tonight’s vigil.

Across from the park, Sally Biron has run Sally and Carmen’s Beauty Salon for 42 years. She doesn’t know the Casses, but the town’s small enough that she knew Celina from seeing her walking around town with her sister.

“I think everybody’s very sad and very upset that this happened in such a small town,” Biron said.

“We are tight-knit here,” Pittsburgh resident Donna Adams said while getting her hair done. “The feeling going around is ‘It’s come to our town. Oh my gosh.’ It’s tough to deal with.”

For Melissa Jordan, a waitress at Spa Restaurant next door to the Cass home, the tragedy hits a little closer to home than some. She lived in the same apartment building until a few weeks ago. She wishes she hadn’t moved. She stays up late, she said, and wonders if she might have heard something unusual if she was still around.

“The dots aren’t connecting somehow. It bothers me,” Jordan said. “It’s not just adults that are scared. Kids are scared.”

There’s been little other talk in the restaurant lately. Although police investigations are slow, the need for answers takes root quickly.

“They’re scared. They’re upset, and they just want whoever did this behind bars,” Jordan said. “I think people just need a closing. The whole town is upset.”

Joseph G. Cote can reached at 594-6415 or jcote@nashuatelegraph.com.