"Do you remember any details? Winifred only talked about these," Carly said, pointing to a swath of tintypes on the bed that looked very similar to the ones they had just recorded.

He shook his head. "Mom never talked about her immediate parents, much less her great-greats."

Carly made a frustrated sound. "No matter what Winifred wants to believe, this is part of her family, too."

"She's paying the bills."

"Still, I don't like doing a half-assed job."

He gave her a slow sideways look. "I'm so glad to hear that."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Acting innocent and throwing out double meanings for me to trip over."

"You trip and I'll beat you to the floor."

She tried not to laugh. She laughed anyway. "Focus, Dan. Focus."

"I am."

"Don't focus on that."

"What?"

"Sex."

"I'm a man, honey. That's like asking me not to breathe."

What he didn't say was that it was good to feel like a man again, instead of a bloodstained wraith raging at what couldn't be changed. But if he mentioned that, his curious Carolina May would have a thousand questions, none of which he could answer.

Carly saw the change in Dan's expression, dark again rather than amused, and wondered what he was thinking about. Not sex. She would have bet on it.

With a stifled sigh, she picked up a tintype from the group Winifred had agreed to talk about, and started describing it. When she was finished she added the information she'd received from Winifred. "The date is January third, 1870. Juana Castillo married a third cousin, Mateo Cortez de Castillo." Carly picked up another tintype, described it, and said, "Two years later she died in childbirth. This image is of her dead." Carly picked up the next tintype, described it, and said, "Maria, daughter of Juana. Mateo Cortez de Castillo remarried two years after his wife's death. All trace of him in the Castillo family history stops as of his remarriage. His descendants didn't count, even if they were half siblings to Maria."

"Clannish lot," Dan said.

"To put it mildly. From what I've gathered, Winifred and her mother didn't think much of Mateo. He's the one who pretty much lost the farm to the Anglos. That's why he married off his barely fourteen-year-old daughter Maria to Hale Simmons."

Dan whistled. "Fourteen? Even in the bad old days, that's a little young."

"Hale was at least forty. The odd thing is that they didn't have any kids for almost twenty-five years. Then Sylvia Maria was born in 1916."

"So Sylvia's daddy is over sixty-five before he starts fathering kids with the same woman he's been living with for a quarter century?" Dan asked skeptically. "Sounds like Maria finally jumped the fence to look for sperm donors."

"You want to suggest that to Winifred?"

"Why not? She's the one who's hell-bent on detailing the maternal family history. Does she think she's descended from a long line of Mother Teresas?"

"Um, right. I'll ask her, but it probably won't matter to her anyway. Simmons isn't a Castillo."

"You have a point. So Winifred was born right after her sister?"

"If you think ten years is right away, yes."

He did some fast addition. "Menopause baby?"

"It happens. That's why there's a name for it."

"New boyfriend? Hale was likely too old to get it up, much less shoot anything but blanks."

"I'll be sure to ask Winifred," Carly said dryly. "But there were some stillbirths along the way, so I'm guessing the boyfriend was a steady one."

"If you want to be sure, find Hale's grave, get some DNA, and see if me or my mother could be related to him."

Carly thought quickly. "It's been a long time since Hale died."

"You'd be amazed at what the labs can do."

"I wonder if Winifred would pay for the tests."

"Forget her. I'll pay."

Carly stared at Dan. "Why?"

"Because if Winifred realizes that she can't control the results of her family history, she'll probably decide not to do it at all."

Carly put her hands on her hips and faced him. "Oh, gee, thanks. Forget about digging up Hale. Nice to know you want me out of work."

Dan stood before she could back up even half a step.

"What I want," he said, his face very close to hers, "is to keep you from being the one screaming into a microphone."

Chapter 26

TAOS

VERY EARLY WEDNESDAY

DAN STRETCHED HIS LEFT LEG AND KNEADED MUSCLES THAT WANTED TO KNOT UP.

Walking and running he could do well enough, but sitting at a computer for hours at a time was guaranteed to make his leg ache. He glanced over the summary of his report and hit the send button, letting people in D.C. know that Colombia was going to hell in a handbasket. Again. Maybe Colombia's staggering government could pull the country out of the mire created by drug money and illegal armies. Maybe the World Bank could pump in enough legal money to keep things afloat for a while.

But nothing would replace the middle-class professionals and the upper class whose wealth and talents were hemorrhaging out of the country at a chilling rate.

Greed, the engine of the global train wreck.

He hoped his report made a difference in the speed of U.S. and world reaction to Colombia's rapidly developing crisis. Nobody needed another failed state. Nobody benefited from it but the crooks at the top, the ones that rode the body politic right into the ground, murdering the competition and grabbing money with both hands as long as the ride lasted.

Thinking about it didn't make Dan's leg feel any better.

So think about Guss kids smiling and laughing. Soon they'll be over the flu

and running around, bursting with health and intelligence, well fed, well loved, well educated, and ready to take on the world.

Fuck the politicians.

It's the kids that keep me trying to salvage something from the train wreck.

Quietly, efficiently, Dan shut down the computer, disconnected the box that automatically encrypted outgoing material and decoded incoming messages, and stored the machine in its titanium nest.

There was no sound from beyond the closed bedroom door, where Carly slept. At least Dan hoped she was sleeping. Thinking about her lying awake and alone in the living room would keep him awake and restless.

Don't forget the bone.

How could I? The evidence is right there in front of me.

Two dogs barked in the darkness, from the direction of the Rincon house. The barks rose in savagery and then shut off at a shout.

Dan waited, listening for whatever had set off the dogs. He didn't hear anything but the settling of pinon logs in the fireplace beyond the bedroom. Wind sighed over the roof and cried in the cottonwood's massive branches. Moments later the dogs started barking again, drawing another irate shout from their owner.

Something is upwind of the house. The dogs bark every time the wind blows.

Suddenly glass shattered in the living room and something thumped to the floor. Alarms went off everywhere.

Dan was on his feet and in the living room before the missile stopped skidding across the wood floor. He saw instantly that it was an adobe brick, not a gasoline or pipe bomb. An envelope was tied to the brick.

Ignoring it, he went to the alarm panel in the living room and shut off the noise.

The neighbor's dogs were going nuts.

"What's going on?" Carly's voice was hoarse with adrenaline and being yanked out of deep sleep.

"Don't get up. I mean it, Carolina May. Stay put."

She didn't move, held in place more by the quality of his voice than his words.

He crossed back to his bedroom, knelt by the titanium case, and quickly went through the locks. This time he didn't pull out a decoder.