Carly saw that Melissa's smile didn't go beyond her lips. Obviously the housekeeper was worried about the future, both for herself and her husband. She had reason to be.

One foot out the door. Whether they liked it or not.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Carly said. "It's sad to end a long tradition."

Melissa nodded tightly.

"I understand your mother and grandmother both worked on the ranch," Carly said.

"Yes."

"Do you have time now to talk about that with me?" Carly said. "Your family has been and is an integral part of the Quintrell family history. Your viewpoint would be invaluable."

Melissa's mouth turned down. "The governor made it very clear that no one was to talk with you about the Quintrell family. I'm sorry."

"So am I," Carly said.

Dan looked at Melissa and asked, "How long does the gag order last? Until the ranch is sold?"

Melissa stiffened. "Governor Quintrell didn't say."

"And he's the one writing your references," Dan said. "Got it." He looked at Carly. "Let's see how Winifred is doing."

"Wait," Melissa said, touching Carly's arm.

Carly looked at the older woman curiously. "Yes?"

"Winifred." Melissa sighed. "She isn't… well."

"We know," Carly said. "We won't stay long."

Melissa's fingers tightened on Carly's arm. "No, you don't understand. I think…" Her voice died. "I think," she whispered, "that Winifred is losing her mind."

"Why?" Dan's voice was rougher than he meant it to be. "What makes you think that?" he asked more gently.

Melissa frowned. "Losing Sylvia, and the pneumonia, and the food poisoning, and the ranch being sold, well, I just think Winifred's losing her grip."

Carly looked at Dan. He was watching Melissa with an intensity that both women found uncomfortable.

"What happened?" Carly asked, patting the ringers that were clamped around her arm.

Slowly Melissa's grip lightened. "She's always hated the Senator, but lately, it's like some kind of obsession. She burns with this wild energy whenever his name comes up. It's crazy. And now she's been talking wild, saying that the ranch is hers, not the governor's, because she's the last living Castillo and the ranch can only be inherited by someone with Castillo blood."

Dan's eyebrows lifted. "What's the basis of her belief?"

"That's just it," Melissa said in a rising voice. "There's no reason at all. It's just crazy. The governor is Sylvia and the Senator's son. He has Castillo blood in him through his mother, but Winifred hates the Senator so much she can't stand to see his son inherit, so she's insisting that the ranch belongs to her." Melissa let out a harsh breath. "I'm afraid she's losing her hold on reality."

Uneasily Carly remembered the times she'd seen Winifred's fervor and wondered about the woman's sanity. Carly glanced at Dan. He was looking past Melissa. His expression said he was thinking hard.

"I'll take you to her," Melissa said with a bright, unhappy smile. "Just don't tire her too much, and don't believe everything she says. Maybe she'll be better in a few days. Here, let me have your coats. Would you like some coffee or tea and cookies?"

"Not for me," Carly said instantly. She wasn't interested in eating or drinking anything at the Quintrell house that she hadn't personally prepared.

"None for me, either," Dan said. He helped Carly out of her coat and shrugged out of his jacket. "We had a late lunch."

Because they knew they wouldn't be eating at the Quintrell ranch if they could avoid it.

Carly and Dan followed their jackets and Melissa's tight butt down the long arcade that led to Winifred's suite.

Melissa tapped lightly on the door. "Winifred? Do you feel up to visitors?"

"Yes."

The single word was hoarse, almost urgent.

Melissa opened the door, then followed Dan and Carly inside. Winifred was in the recliner she liked better than Sylvia's hospital bed. The heavy steel cylinder of an oxygen tank stood by the chair. She adjusted the clear plastic tube so that she could talk more easily.

"Remember to save your strength," Melissa cautioned.

Winifred made a disgusted sound.

With another brittle smile, Melissa left to hang up the coats.

"Have you found any more names?" Winifred asked.

"Do you mean possible children of the Senator's?" Carly asked.

The old woman nodded curtly.

The door to the hallway didn't close after Melissa. Dan noted it and said nothing.

"No new names," Carly said.

Winifred shook her head. "Then why are you here?"

"We hoped to talk to Melissa about her mother and grandmother."

"It didn't take you long," Winifred said.

"The governor issued a gag order," Dan said. "Since he's the one who will be writing recommendations for Melissa and her husband…" Dan shrugged. "How about you, Miss Winifred? Are you under the governor's gag order?"

Her dry laugh ended in a cough. "He wouldn't dare. Why do you care about Melissa's family?"

Without looking away from Winifred, Carly checked that her recorder was on. "Susan Mullins worked for the Quintrell household and had a baby out of wedlock in 1941," Carly said. "The boy, Randal Mullins, had no father listed on the birth certificate."

"The Senator's bastard," Winifred said.

"Are you sure?" Carly asked.

"There wasn't a skirt within reach that he didn't lift. It was a point of honor with him. He even made a grab for me after Sylvia's so-called stroke. I told him I'd poison him if he touched me again. He believed me."

Dan just shook his head. "The man was clinical."

"The man was evil," Winifred said.

Carly tried to head off the savage anger she saw in Winifred's eyes by changing the subject. "When Susan married Doug Smith, they had a daughter, Betty Smith."

"Melissa's mother," Winifred said after a moment. "Beautiful woman, but she was as loose as her mother. I've always wondered if Melissa was the Senator's child."

"Melissa is his granddaughter, not his daughter," Carly said.

Winifred's eyes changed, opaque as stone, black as her thoughts. "The womanizing son of a bitch wouldn't have cared either way."

"What do you say to that, Melissa?" Dan asked, turning toward the partially open door. "Is the Senator your father or grandfather-or both?"

At first there was silence. Then the door to the hallway opened wider and Melissa walked through, their coats still over her arm.

"He might be my grandfather," Melissa said evenly. "My father is Mel Schaffer."

"Might be your grandfather?" Carly asked. "Don't you know?"

Melissa shrugged. "My grandmother wasn't very reliable. She took too many drugs, drank too much. A lot of what she said wasn't true."

"Sounds like my own grandmother," Dan said.

"Liza," Melissa said. "I heard about her."

"A lot of people did," Dan said.

"Whatever," Melissa said, turning to Winifred. "Suggesting that the Senator could be my father is not only sick, it's the kind of wild accusation that will cause you a lot of trouble. The Senator would have laughed it off, but his son won't."

Winifred's eyes narrowed. She didn't say a word.

Melissa's hand went to the older woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I

shouldn't have snapped, but I worry about you. The governor could make life… very difficult."

"I won't be around here long enough to worry about it," Winifred said. "And neither will you."

Melissa's mouth thinned.

Dan said to Winifred, "What do you remember about Randal Mullins?"

"He died in Vietnam."

"Did he have any children?" Though he was asking Winifred, he was looking at Melissa. The way her eyelids flickered told him that she knew the answer.

"Not that I know of," Winifred said. "He never married."

"Turn off the recorder, Carly," Dan said.

She looked at him, then hit the pause button.