He stared at Melissa.

Silence grew.

"Oh, all right," Melissa said finally. "But if you tell the governor I told you, I'll deny it."

"We won't tell Josh Quintrell the time of day," Dan said.

Melissa let out a long breath. "Randy Mullins was my uncle, or half uncle. Whatever." She made an impatient gesture. Her words came out clipped, rapid, like she was getting through something distasteful as fast as she could. "He hated my father, Mel, and started running away when he was eleven. Most of the time Randy went to live with Angus Snead up in the high pastures or in his winter quarters on the ranch. Laurie was the old man's daughter, seven years younger than Randy. Randy spent most of his time with Old Man Snead. Laurie was pretty much raised by her aunt after her mother walked out. Angus Snead pretty much raised Randy."

Carly held her breath and hoped that her recorder had done its usual wake-up trick five seconds after being told to pause. She had a feeling Melissa wasn't going to go through the story twice.

"Anyway, just before Randy shipped out to Nam, he went on a tear-down-the-town drunk. Angus was sick, so Laurie drove down to pick Randy up from jail. About nine months later she gave birth to twins."

"Jim and Blaine Snead," Dan said. "Your cousins. And likely the Senator's grandsons."

"Maybe, maybe not," Melissa said, shrugging. "He never treated them any different from anyone else."

"Including you?" Dan asked.

"I was a woman. Of course he treated me different from the Snead boys. I was real, real careful never to be alone in the house with him when he was at the ranch. Winifred helped a lot." Melissa smiled at the older woman. "She told me to watch out and I did."

Carly's mouth turned down. The more she heard about the Senator, the less she liked him.

"Even after his heart trouble when he was in his seventies?" Dan asked. "Didn't that slow him down? It sure ended his career as a politician."

"He was plenty spry until a few years ago," Winifred said. "But after he turned eighty he wasn't strong enough to wrestle an unwilling woman down to the floor anymore."

"Winifred…" Melissa looked unhappy. "No rape was ever proved. It was whispers, that's all. With a man like the Senator, there was always gossip."

Carly looked at Dan, who shrugged and said, "Just one more thing that didn't make the local paper."

"Do the Sneads know who their grandfather is?" Dan asked.

"Nobody knows" Melissa said, gripping the coats hard against her body.

"Do they think they know?" Carly asked.

"Why?" Melissa said.

"She's curious," Dan said easily, but his eyes were hard, intent.

"Oh, hell, I'm sure someone told them." Melissa hugged the coats to her. "Gossip goes around quicker than truth."

"Is that why the governor is so touchy?" Carly asked Melissa. "He's heard the gossip and doesn't want the truth known?"

"What truth?" Melissa asked impatiently. "There's precious little of it in gossip."

"You know the old saying about smoke and fire," Carly said.

Melissa just shook her head. "The Senator is dead. Let it all die with him. Would it do the Sneads any good to have all the old gossip and lies raked up? They're grown men and don't give a damn who their grandfather might or might not be." She glared at Carly. "Anyway, a wolfer and a felon have no business being in a Quintrell family history."

"Castillo," Winifred said harshly. "This is a Castillo history and the Senator's bastards have no part of it."

"Then why did you want me to-" Carly began, but Winifred talked right over her.

"That's what the-" A spasm of coughing shook Winifred, then another and another.

"You'd better go," Melissa said, looking worried. She shoved the coats at Dan.

He took the coats but made no move to leave. He didn't want to. He had a feeling Winifred was weaker than she wanted people to know.

"Shouldn't you call the doctor?" he asked Melissa.

"He was here today," Melissa said as she replaced the nasal feed on Winifred's oxygen. "There's nothing more he can do except take Winifred to the hospital, and she refuses to go. Unless the governor goes to court and has her declared incompetent to handle her own affairs, there's nothing anyone can do. Besides, if Winifred wants to stay here as long as possible, who are we to interfere?"

Winifred kept coughing. Her face was ruddy from effort.

Carly took her coat from Dan and headed for the hallway. The sound of Winifred's dry, racking cough followed them to the front door. The door opened and then shut behind them, leaving them in the wind-haunted cold of night.

Neither said anything.

Both wondered what Winifred had been trying to tell them.

Chapter 44

CASTILLO RIDGE

FRIDAY NIGHT

THE NIGHTSCOPE MAKES IT EASY. GOOD THING, THE COLD IS TAKING THE FEELING out of my hands, and the wind…

The wind was always a rifleman's enemy.

The sniper watched through the scope as Carly and Dan left the house. They got into his truck, but instead of heading toward the road leading back to Taos, the truck turned toward the outbuildings.

Now what?

The headlights would blow out the nightscope, so the sniper tracked them with binoculars. They drove past the barn and out the pasture road to the graveyard.

Well, damn. I had my spot all picked out and they're going in the other direction.

Cold, stiff, cursing silently, the sniper watched the truck pull up to the Quintrell family graveyard. As soon as the lights went off, he switched back to watching his target through the nightscope mounted on his rifle barrel. It was more for practice than anything else. The graveyard was just under a mile from the main house, but that wasn't the real problem.

The eight-foot-tall wrought-iron fence made shooting really dicey.

The angle wasn't great enough for him to shoot over the fence unless the target stood tall and straight away from the fence instead of bent over grubbing around the gravestones on perimeter, right next to the fence. The gravestones themselves were another shooting hazard Not to mention the trees that had been planted on or near some graves.

The faint sound of voices lifted on the fitful wind. A flashlight turned on below.

The sniper went back to night-vision binoculars.

Finish whatever you came for, get on the road, and circle hack around the other side of the ridge to get to the highway.

He ached with cold. It was time to get it done and move on.

Come on, come on, hurry up. Make it any harder on me and I'll kill both of you.

Chapter 45

QUINTRELL RANCH

FRIDAY NIGHT

CARLY SMACKED HER HANDS TOGETHER. EVEN INSIDE LINED GLOVES, HER FINGERS were getting cold.

"I can't figure out any rhyme or reason for the placement of graves," Dan said.

"Usually, the closer to the founder's grave, the higher the rank," Carly said. "But Liza's grave isn't with her brother's or her sister's."

Dan dusted snow off the last headstone. "Nope. This one is a memorial stone to a Quintrell who died in the Civil War."

"Really?" Carly came over, took a digital photo, and shoved the camera back in her pocket. "Samuel Quintrell. Wonder if he was a brother or a father or an uncle or-"

"Doesn't matter," Dan cut in. "Winifred only wants-"

"Castillos," Carly finished in disgust.

"Let's try the lower half of the graveyard."

Carly looked toward the section of the graveyard reserved for ranch workers. "Are you saying that some of the employees had higher 'rank' than the Senator's daughter?"

"If we're talking about my grandmother, yes," Dan said as he walked the length of the ghostly white fence. "I'm guessing that Liza was lucky to be buried here at all. Probably wouldn't have been, but the Quintrells didn't want to make any fuss that would attract more attention to Liza's sorry life."