Gus's eyes glazed over when he saw the stream of intricate color charts, graphs, numbers, and the like. "If I grovel, will you give me a summary?"
Dan snickered. "I said the same thing."
"You didn't grovel," she said.
"You didn't complain," Dan said.
She gave him a sidelong look and a very female smile.
Gus shuffled his feet.
"Okay," Carly said. "The year is 1968, the place is Vietnam. Randal Mullins is working as a forward scout aiding the outfit Josh Quintrell is in. There's an ambush. Everybody dies but Randal Mullins."
"According to the autopsy St. Kilda performed on the remains that were buried as Randal Mullins, the death wound was one shot to the back of the head from a rifle," Dan added. "Very close range. Execution style. The remains, by the way, have the Senator's Y-DNA and Sylvia's mtDNA. The dead man was the real Josh Quintrell."
"Are you saying that Randy killed Josh Quintrell in Vietnam?" Gus asked.
"Probably, but we can't prove it," Dan said. "All we can prove is that there was an ambush and a wounded man wearing Josh Quintrell's dog tags and suffering partial memory loss was the only survivor. A heavily mutilated corpse wearing Randy Mullins's dog tags was returned to the U.S. and buried in a Taos Type County graveyard."
Carly pulled a list of dates out of the file. "Senator Quintrell flew to the military hospital to see his wounded son, stayed overnight, and flew back to D.C. Two months later, Josh Quintrell came home to the ranch to recuperate. A few weeks after that, Susan Mullins sees her son in town. Her dead son, who claims he isn't her son at all. She tells her friend, Liza Quintrell, that Randy is calling himself Josh and pretends not to recognize his own mother. Two days later, three prostitutes are stabbed and mutilated by a hippie on angel dust."
Dan watched the car on the TV drive away and said, "A recent reevaluation of the crime scene records and autopsies indicates that the women were killed in different places and carried to the place where they were discovered. The hippie either tripped over them or was given the murder weapon and pushed into the scene. Either way, they were all together and the hippie took the fall for the deaths."
"Liza and Susan," Gus said.
Dan nodded.
"Do you realize," Gus said, "that if what we think is true, the man cold-bloodedly murdered his own mother along with two other women, and then dressed the scene so that it looked like they were all killed at once by some crazed hippie?"
"He also killed his half brother in Vietnam," Dan said. "But unless the governor confesses, we can't nail him for those deaths."
"Jesus, Joseph, and Mary," Gus said heavily, shaking his head. "It's hard to believe that someone you know…"
"It gets worse," Dan said.
Carly took his hand, squeezed it, and went on with the list. "Again, unless the governor confesses, we can't prove that he blackmailed the Senator into going along with the identity-swap scheme, but we think he did."
"Blackmail? With what?"
"The Senator had an incestuous relationship with Liza," Dan said neutrally.
Gus's jaw dropped. "Can you prove it?"
"Yes, but Mom will be the one to suffer."
"I don't see-Christ, you're not saying-"
"The Senator is Mom's genetic father," Dan said. "Liza is her genetic mother. You do the math."
Gus pulled over a folding chair and sank into it.
"Once Randy was accepted as Josh, things quieted down for a time on the murder front," Carly said, reading from the list in front of her. "Then Betty Smith, Randy's half sister, ran out of money. Her husband had divorced her, she was turning tricks for small change, and decided to try a bit of blackmail."
"Over the father-daughter incest?" Gus asked.
"No," Dan said. "Her mother, Susan, had written down what happened when Randy/Josh claimed not to recognize her and mailed everything to her daughter. Betty sat on it for years, then got drunk enough or broke enough to make blackmail look easy."
"And?" Gus asked.
"She committed suicide a few days later," Carly said. "It could have been the Senator who did it. It could have been the governor. Both of them had a lot to lose. Or it could have been just suicide. We'll never know unless the governor feels chatty."
"Suicide, huh?" Gus said. "Convenient."
"Oh, yeah," Dan said. "Death has been a real convenient buddy to the governor. Again, nothing we can prove. What we can prove is that a few months later, the Senator began making contributions to a lot of charities. Two of those charities were a laundry. The proceeds ended up in a numbered account in Aruba that was traced to Pedro Moreno."
"So?"
"Pedro is Pete Moore," Carly said. "Melissa had an asset her mother didn't-she'd married an accountant who knew how to hide money. So when she inherited Betty's mementos, she waited a year and then took up where Betty left off."
"But the Moores were smart enough to make sure the Senator never knew who was hosing him," Dan added. "Somehow the governor found out, probably when he took over the ranch accounts after the Senator died." Dan shrugged. "I cracked the laundry and got Pete's name."
"How did you do that?" Gus asked.
"Do what?" Carly and Dan said at once.
Gus opened his mouth, closed it, and listened.
"I'm sure the governor has access to forensic accountants," Dan said, "so he could have found out who was blackmailing him. Again, not provable without the governor's confession. I'm not holding my breath for that one."
"The happy blackmail lasted until Pete and Melissa died in a car accident," Carly said.
"But it wasn't an accident," Gus said.
"No," Dan said. "Did I mention that Randy Mullins was a damn good sniper in Vietnam?"
"I have a headache," Gus said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"So did I," Dan said, touching the place where a bullet had trimmed his hairline a little too close. "That's how the governor got the blood he sent to Genedyne to prove he had Castillo mtDNA. He knocked me down with a bullet, waited for me to crawl off with Carly's help, and then he picked up a sample where I'd bled into the snow."
"I'll bet he wishes now that he'd killed you," Gus said.
Dan's smile was all teeth. "Yeah, I'll bet he does. But at the time it looked too risky. A little blood on the snow from a poacher is no biggie. A dead body requires a lot more police work."
"So how did you catch him?" Gus said.
Dan squeezed Carly's hand, silently asking her to let him be the one to pick out the truths and half-truths for his brother. "Carly spotted a slight difference in the mtDNA profile between Mom and Sylvia. That was the bomb that blew the governor's murderous game to smithereens."
"What was?" Gus asked impatiently.
"Genetically, the governor is carrying the same mtDNA as Melissa. Susan Mullins's mtDNA."
"So that's why you had her exhumed. Why didn't you have Liza exhumed at the same time? Was it Mom?"
"There wasn't any need to put her through it," Dan said, a half-truth if ever one had been spoken. What he didn't say was that he'd done some partial exhumations one frozen night in the Quintrell graveyard. "Given the nuptial agreement the Senator signed, his bastard child has no more legal right to the Quintrell ranch than your average Martian."
"How did Genedyne get a sample of the Senator? I sure can't see the governor agreeing to it."
"You'll have to ask St. Kilda Consulting," Dan said without a pause.
"Will they tell me?"
"Doubt it."
"Genes aside," Carly said quickly, not wanting Gus to look too closely at the genetic histories, "St. Kilda Consulting also uncovered numerous discrepancies in various military and school records relating to Randy and Josh, as well as campaign money from illegal sources for both the Senator and the governor, and some land swaps that benefited the Quintrells more than the citizens of New Mexico or the United States."
Gus's eyebrows climbed.
"Once you have a reason to go looking, you can
find some incredible things in the records," Carly said.
"St. Kilda Consulting again," Gus said, looking at his brother like he hadn't seen him before. "I'd love to do a story on-"
"No," Dan cut in. "The people who matter already know. The rest watch the six o'clock news."
Gus looked at the file in Carly's hand. "I don't suppose I could take that with me?"
"Sorry," Dan said. "Background only. Deep background. But you'll find that Sheriff Montoya will be real cooperative. And if he isn't, let me know."
There was a knock on the front door.
"I'll get it," Gus said, winking at Dan with Carly on his lap. "You look too comfortable to disturb."
Dan tightened his arms around Carly. "You ready for this?" he whispered.
"For you, always."
"For Mom. I'm guessing it's her knocking at the door. She knows the report came in today."
"Do you want me to disappear?" Carly asked.
"Not unless you want to."
Carly kissed his jawline. "Only if you want me to."
He tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes. "Stay with me, Carolina May."
Before she could say anything, Diana and John walked into the bedroom. Diana looked worn yet somehow stronger. John looked like a man protecting his woman.
Dan stood up, taking Carly with him so that they could stand side by side. By tacit agreement, he hadn't mentioned the Senator's name or his scattered children in his mother's presence. Tonight, she had asked to see him.
To talk about the Senator.
"Where's Gus?" Dan asked.
"I told him to go home," John said. He looked at Carly.
"She's family," Dan said simply. "She stays with me."
Diana smiled, sad and beautiful. "So you know," she said to both Dan and Carly.
"Yes," Dan said. "Does Dad?"
Instead of answering, John looked searchingly at Dan. "Thank you."
"For what?" Dan asked.
"Still calling me Dad."
"Sperm donors make babies," Dan said, stepping forward to hug John hard. "Fathers raise them. That makes you my father in every way that matters."
"I should have told you," Diana said, tears running down her cheeks. "But I couldn't. John knew I was pregnant when we married, but he didn't know who the father was or any of the rest. I didn't know how to tell him. Or you. I felt… unclean."
"Hush," Dan said, scooping his mother up in a big hug. "Telling your son that his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather were one and the same incestuous son of a bitch would be a hard thing to do."
Diana clung to Dan. "He-the Senator-"
"You don't have to tell me anything, ever," Dan said fiercely. "It's enough to know that somebody as good and clean and loving as you came out of the hell that man created." He kissed her and set her gently on her feet. "That's all that matters. The person you are, not what he was."
"I was afraid that knowing, that if I told you, it would destroy you," she said simply. "It almost destroyed me." She looked up at John and smiled. "John's love saved me."
"You saved yourself," John said, smiling. "You let me love you." Then his smile faded. "I'm glad the Senator is dead. I'd hate to spend the rest of my life in jail for killing him."
Something savage flared in Dan's eyes. "You wouldn't have had the chance."
Diana tugged at her husband's shirt. "Come, love. It's time to leave them alone so that he can ask-that is, it's time to go home."
"It is?" John asked, surprised. "But I thought you wanted-"
"To go home," Diana interrupted firmly. She kissed Dan, hugged Carly, and said to her son, "Let me know right away."
Puzzled, Carly watched Diana hurry her husband out of the house. When Dan closed the door behind his parents, she asked, "Was it something I said?"
Dan's smile reminded Carly of just how much Diana's son he was. "No, it's something I'm supposed to say. To you. My mother, the gentle, loving bruja, already knows what I'm going to ask you."
"About what?"
"Children. Marriage. I'd prefer marriage first, but I'm open to sexual bribery."
Carly stared at him with wide, smoky gold eyes. "I've always wanted it that way, too."
"Sexual bribery?"
She laughed and stepped into his open arms. "Marriage before children. But sexual bribery works," she added, nibbling along his chin. "As long as you're the one doing the bribing."
"You sure?"
"About your brand of bribery? Absolutely."
"No. About marriage." Though he was smiling at her, his eyes were serious, hungry, waiting.
"That, too," Carly said.
He kept waiting.
"That's a yes on my side," she said, touching the faint scar where he'd been shot. "What about your side?"
"Oh, yes."
His cell phone rang. He took it out and looked at the caller ID: St. Kilda Consulting.
Carly stopped tasting Dan's neck long enough to ask, "Who is it?"
"Wrong number," he said, tossing the phone across the room.
The phone kept ringing.
Neither of them noticed.
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Always Time To Die sk-1 Page 36