Always Time To Die sk-1

by Elizabeth Lowell

  "There's a rumor going through the hispano community."

  Dan hit a key and faced his brother. "What kind of rumor?"

  "That Winifred is dead."

  Carly opened her mouth and shut it just as fast. Her hands clenched in her lap. "Surely someone would have told me."

  "Would they?" Dan asked. He put his hand over her fists and rubbed gently. "No one wanted you here but Winifred."

  "If they think I'll leave because she's ill or dead, they're going to be real disappointed."

  Dan didn't bother to argue that Winifred's death would be a good excuse for Carly to go to a safer place. He was old enough to know which arguments would fly and which would die. She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what was at stake. Lying in a snowy ravine waiting to be shot had a real clarifying effect on thought processes.

  "If she's dead, what caused it?" Dan asked.

  "Pneumonia."

  Carly bit the inside of her lip against a combination of anger and tears. Winifred wasn't an easy person, but she was a living encyclopedia of Castillo and Quintrell history. If she'd died, all the insights, the love, even the hatred-all the emotions and memories that made history more than a litany of names and dates-had died with her.

  "She can't be dead," Carly said.

  And she knew she could.

  "She saw the raven flying," Dan said. "Damn."

  "We can't be sure she's dead," Gus pointed out.

  "Did you call the ranch?" Dan asked.

  "Of course."

  "And?"

  "Melissa gave me a very polite runaround. The doctor was with Winifred, she couldn't be bothered, she'd get back to me."

  "And she didn't," Dan said.

  Gus shrugged. "Not yet. But maybe Carly can help."

  "How?"

  "This is addressed to you." Gus held out the envelope he carried. "It looks like old-fashioned handwriting, it came from the Quintrell ranch, and I'm thinking-"

  "Winifred," Dan cut in.

  "Yeah," Gus said. "I guess she didn't know where Carly would be staying, so Winifred sent it care of me."

  Carly looked at the postmark. Friday morning. Quickly she opened the letter. A receipt of some kind fluttered out. With a speed that made her blink, Dan snatched a corner of the paper before it had fallen more than a few inches.

  "'Genedyne Lab,'" he read. "Looks like a return receipt for some kind of tissue or blood samples."

  "Why would Winifred mail her lab work receipt to Carly?" Gus asked.

  Dan smiled slowly. It wasn't a nice smile.

  Carly looked at him warily, reminded of the man who had been lying next to her in the snow, bleeding, waiting with a drawn weapon, hoping to meet whoever was stupid enough to approach them.

  "It's one of the top genetic testing labs in the U.S.," Dan said. "Looks like Winifred mailed some samples to them."

  "Why?" Carly asked.

  "Good-bye, Gus," Dan said.

  Gus looked hurt.

  It would have been more effective if he hadn't licked his lips at the thought of a hot story involving the single most newsworthy family in the state.

  "If you stay, you promise not to write, hint, or pass by sign language anything you hear," Dan said. "If you want to keep Mom happy, you'll abide by not only the letter of what I've said but the spirit. Or I'll bust your balls and feed them to a coyote."

  Gus gave a shout of laughter. "He's baaaack!"

  "Who?" Carly asked.

  "My real brother, the one who has been off somewhere sulking for three months. It took a rap on the head to wake him up."

  "Men don't sulk, they brood," Dan said.

  Carly snickered.

  Dan pinned his brother with a level glance that said he was through playing. "Are you in or out?"

  "Does this have something to do with the baby names I'm tracking down?"

  Dan waited.

  Gus sighed. "Yeah, yeah, my lips are sealed, my hands are tied, and I won't fart in code, okay?"

  Carly laughed.

  "I'm going to call the office," Dan said. "They'll be able to find out what Winifred sent to the lab."

  "How can they-" Carly began.

  "Finding out things is what they do," Dan said, "and they're good at it."

  "They," Gus muttered. "I thought you weren't working for the Feds anymore."

  "I'm not."

  Dan took out his cell phone and wished he'd brought the satellite phone. But he hadn't. It was locked in the case with his encoder-decoder, gun, ammo, and a few other things he didn't want children of any age playing with. He punched in a number, listened, punched in another number, and left his name and callback number.

  "Okay," he said. "What else is in Winifred's letter?"

  Carly fished out what looked like an old legal document, unfolded it carefully, and shook her head. "She shouldn't have crammed this into a business envelope. There's damage."

  "Maybe she was in a hurry," Dan said.

  "What is it?" Gus asked, trying to get around Dan so that he could read over Carly's shoulder.

  "Some kind of legal document," Carly said, scanning quickly. "Nineteen thirty-four. There's an English translation at the bottom. At least, I think it's a translation. My reading Spanish isn't up to a point-by-point comparison."

  "May I?" Dan asked.

  She leaned aside so that he could read.

  "It's an accurate translation," he said after a minute.

  "Of what?" Gus asked impatiently.

  "Looks like a nuptial or prenuptial agreement between the Quintrell family and Sylvia Simmons y Castillo," Carly said, scanning the English version. "He agrees that in appreciation of their contribution of money and local support, he'll guarantee that only a child of Sylvia Quintrell's body can inherit the land, and thereafter only descendants of that child may inherit, world without end, amen. If anyone not of Castillo blood attempts to inherit-or in case of death before children or divorce-the land and all its buildings and livestock immediately revert to the Castillo family."

  Gus looked surprised.

  "From the look and feel of it," Carly said, "whoever made this document was working from an older template. If I had to guess, I'd say that template was the original Quintrell/Castillo marriage agreement in 1865. Maybe it's somewhere in all the stuff Winifred gave to me."

  "Guess the Castillos didn't trust the Quintrells, then or now," Gus said.

  "They were realists," Carly said, "and the reality was that women in the mid-1860s often died before their husbands, who then remarried and started another family. The Castillos were just trying to make sure that the children of a second Quintrell wife didn't inherit Castillo land."

  "Then why the more recent agreement?" Gus asked, looking at the early twentieth-century document. "Women weren't dying in childbirth as often."

  "The second prenuptial agreement is the Castillo family's estimate of the Senator's morals," Dan said dryly. "They were afraid he'd use the Castillo's influence with the hispano community to get elected, and then dump their lovely Sylvia for someone without Castillo blood."

  "Okay. So why does that matter now?" Gus asked. "The Quintrell begats are a matter of many public records."

  Carly put the old document on the table and removed another piece of paper. It was a holographic will leaving everything of Winifred's to Carly, plus the right to search for, copy, or otherwise gather anything from the ranch records that would be helpful to the family history. The will also stated that Carly was to have free run of the ranch as long as the ranch was owned by Castillo descendants. The document was dated last Tuesday.

  "What is it?" Dan asked, looking at her.

  Carly handed over the last paper. "Winifred must have felt worse than she let on. She made certain I would get her papers and access to the ranch if she died before the family history was finished."

  "Smart woman," Dan said, reading quickly. "This will help if the governor tries to get everything back and quash the history. If nothing else, it will give us time to copy all the pa
pers and photos."

  Gus looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

  "The governor didn't want any family history to be published until after the election in November," Dan said.

  Carly took a final piece of paper from the envelope. Her eyes widened. "Looks like Melissa was right."

  She passed the paper over to Dan.

  "What do you mean?" Gus asked.

  "Winifred finally lost it," Carly said. "She demanded that the governor prove he's a descendant of the Castillos."

  Dan took the paper and read swiftly.

  "It's in the public record," Gus said. "No problem."

  "It was for Winifred," Dan said. "She's demanding a special test to prove the governor was a Castillo."

  "What-bring back three golden apples from Olympus?" Gus asked.

  "Nothing that mythic." Carly picked up the receipt and waved it. "She sent in saliva samples of her own and Sylvia's to Genedyne. That will give a comparison for the mtDNA."

  "Translation please?" Gus asked.

  "MtDNA is passed to children only from the mother," Carly said. "The father's mtDNA never makes it into the female's egg at conception. The mtDNA is carried in the part of the sperm's tail that falls off outside the egg."

  "And?" Gus asked. "Help me here. I barely got through biology."

  "Bottom line," Carly said, "is that any child of Sylvia Castillo Quintrell will carry her mtDNA, but only her female children will carry on the mtDNA to the next generation."

  "So what? The governor has already inherited. What does Winifred think, that he was swapped in the nursery by passing aliens?"

  "I think she wants to make as much trouble as possible for the governor," Carly said. "She was, um, real blunt on the subject of the Senator. Didn't like him a bit."

  "If what she says is true, she had reason," Dan said.

  "Because he liked women?" Gus asked.

  "Because Sylvia tried to kill her husband and ended up a vegetable instead."

  Gus stared at his brother. "You're joking."

  "Nope." Dan stood up. "I'm going to talk to Mom."

  "You're either meaner or braver than I am," Gus said.

  "Getting shot does that to you." Dan dug his keys out of his pocket and handed them to Carly. "Here, you drive. I've got some people to call."

  Chapter 56

  ON THE ROAD TO TAOS

  SATURDAY AFTERNOON

  THE GOVERNOR'S PHONE VIBRATED AGAINST HIS THIGH AS HE DROVE THE WINDING winter road.

  "Now what?" he muttered.

  The caller ID said Mark Rubin.

  Josh pulled over to the side of the road and answered. "Hello, Mark. I take it you saw Dykstra's latest?"

  "The phone has been red hot since that show. Reporters clamoring for an interview with you, wanting a contact number for your aunt, wanting to interview everybody from grammar school friends to Vietnam buddies. What the hell is going on? When I asked you about possible land mines to be defused on the way to the presidency, you didn't say anything about your family."

  "What's to say?" Josh asked wearily. "My aunt hated my father and transferred that hatred to me. End of story."

  "Not this time. Everybody is saying if it's all kosher with your bloodlines, why not have the test? No big deal."

  "You don't think it's demeaning for a presidential contender to jump through hoops when a fifth-rate gossip queen snaps her fingers?"

  "Not getting a simple test gives her more ammo. Get in front of this story, Josh. Send in a sample. Spike that bitch's guns."

  The governor smiled thinly. As always, his campaign manager's jugular instinct was on target. Josh fingered the thin, fresh scab on his neck. It galled him to give in to Dykstra.

  But he would.

  "Relax," Josh said. "I cut myself shaving this morning and mailed the bandage to Genedyne, just like my aunt wanted. I should have the results in a day or two."

  "Do you want me to make an announcement?"

  "To Dykstra?"

  "Yeah," Rubin said.

  "Not one word."

  "But-"

  "When the test results come in," Josh interrupted, "I'm going to make her eat them in front of a live camera."

  Rubin was still laughing when Josh disconnected.

  Chapter 57

  TAOS

  SATURDAY AFTERNOON

  CARLY ONLY MADE TWO WRONG TURNS BEFORE SHE FOUND HER WAY TO THE DURAN house. Dan hadn't been much help. He'd been on the phone nonstop. She shut off the engine and waited for him to finish his conversation. From what she'd been able to figure out listening to one side of the conversation, in this latest call Dan was talking with someone called Cheryl, a Genedyne technician who also had connections to St. Kilda Consulting.

  "That's right," Dan said. "They were mailed Wednesday, arrived Thursday."

  "No sign of anything in the computer," Cheryl said. "Could it have been a special order?"

  "Check everything you have."

  "Checking as we speak."

  Dan covered the receiver and said to Carly, "It will be a minute."

  She turned the engine back on to keep the truck warm. There wasn't enough snow coming down for a whiteout, but it was edging closer. Occasional gusts of wind buffeted the truck and made snow dance crazily.

  "Do you have any of the lab kits we need to send in samples for testing?" Dan asked Carly.

  "I had a dozen sent to Winifred. She only asked for ten, but I figured some extra couldn't hurt. And I sent a dozen to your house. They should be in today's mail."

  "You're brilliant," he said, pulling her close for a fast kiss. "No, not you, Cheryl. What do you have?"

  "A yen to be called brilliant," the tech shot back.

  "You're brilliant," Dan said instantly.

  "Two samples, one labeled Sylvia Castillo, one labeled Winifred Castillo, mtDNA only."

  "Is there enough of each sample to do more tests?"

  "Sonny, you'd be amazed how much I can do with how little. What do you want?"

  Dan looked at Carly. "Y-DNA, mtDNA, and…?" he asked, holding the phone out to Carly.

  Carly took it and spoke quickly. "Go to at least twenty-five markers on the Y-DNA, and at a minimum, a maternal match and every other refinement you have for mtDNA, and I hope to God I can afford it."

  "My treat," Dan said, taking back the phone. "Did you get that, Cheryl? Give the samples the works and bill everything to me. And don't let anyone know."

  "Got it. How soon do you want it?"

  "Somebody tried to kill me. How fast can you get it?"

  Cheryl whistled. "Does Steele know?"

  "No. It's personal."

  "So is dying. I'll get back to you in twenty-four, max."

  "Wait. I'll be sending more samples in. Same tests, same rush."

  "Bring it on. We just got a dandy new machine that's so fast it scares me. Anything else?"

  "No," he said.

  "Then you're wasting my time and your money."

  Dan didn't bother to say good-bye. Neither did Cheryl. He punched out and stared through the windshield.

  "Something wrong?" Carly asked.

  "Something else, you mean?" He took a long breath and adjusted the watch cap he wore to conceal the bandage on his hairline. "No, not yet. But it's coming."

  Carly looked at the house, where lights glowed against the early twilight brought by snowfall.

  "At least Dad isn't home," Dan said. "He's so protective of Mom that I have to fight him to get to her."

  "Maybe we shouldn't-"

  "Too late. This isn't a game anymore." Dan got out and said through the open door, "But you don't have to come. It's not your problem."

  "What?”

  Carly shut off the engine, shot out of the truck, and hurried to catch up with Dan. She hit the small front porch at the same time he did. He put his arm around her as if he'd been doing it all his life, knocked, and opened the door.

  "Company," he called out, pulling Carly in and shutting the door behind them. Knowing
his mother, he headed straight for the kitchen. "I brought Carly."

  "Come in," Diana said, hurrying into the kitchen from the greenhouse. Her dark eyes were stormy and her smile was enough to turn heads. "Have you eaten lunch?"

  "We're not hungry, thanks," Dan said. "We had a late breakfast."

  "You taught your son to make a mean chili," Carly added.

  "He's a good cook, when he bothers." She looked warily at her son, then at Carly. "Should I ask why you're here?"

  Before either could answer, Diana turned her back and went to the sink to wash her hands.

  "Have you talked to Winifred today?" Dan asked.

  Diana went still. "No. Is something wrong?"

  "You tell me. You'd hear rumors before I would, especially from the hispano grapevine."

  Diana gripped the edge of the sink. "Then it's true? She's dead?"

  "No one has announced it."

  An odd shiver went through Diana. She crossed herself and said, "It is done. It is finally done."

  "Not yet," Carly said. "Someone shot Dan."

  Diana whipped around, her shock clear.

  "Guess the grapevine didn't have my name on it," Dan said, peeling off his hat.

  Diana swayed and clenched her trembling hands together to keep from reaching for the son who watched her with distant eyes. "You are-all right?"

  "As you can see, I'm fine. I have a hard head. The guy was trying for Carly. I just got in the way."

  Diana's glance moved over Carly, taking in the protective way Dan stood close to the young woman.

  "Stop asking questions," Diana said bluntly to Carly. "The violence will also stop."

  "Do you know who's behind it?" Dan asked, his voice careful. Neutral.

  Diana tilted her head back and fished in her pocket for a tissue. Even though she'd added another humidifier to the house, her nose was bleeding again.

  Dan grabbed a clean tissue from a nearby box and pressed it into his mother's hand.

  "Thank you," she said. "It will pass soon."

  "My questions won't," Dan said evenly. "Do you know who is behind the violence?"

  "No."

  "Any guesses?"

  "No."

  "But you'd be happy if whoever it was succeeded, right?"