McCall had only a moment to wonder how her grandmother had known that.
Pepper shook her head and pushed herself to her feet. “I will hire the best private investigator that money can buy.”
“And you will be wasting your money.”
Her grandmother’s eyes widened in surprise.
“You know the people in this part of the state,” McCall said quickly. “You think anyone will talk to an outsider? People up here, even if they weren’t all related, are close-knit. They’re even suspicious of other Montanans let alone someone from out of state. Good luck with that.”
“You are certainly a brash young woman.”
Like my grandmother. “I intend to find out who killed my father no matter what the sheriff or the crime lab does or doesn’t do,” McCall said. “But I need your help. I need to know what my father was involved in twenty-seven years ago.”
Her grandmother was shaking her head.
McCall rushed on. “I might be the only person who can find out the truth. Don’t you see that? I’m a local, I have some training and he was my father.”
“What makes you think anyone will talk to you?”
McCall smiled. “I’m the black sheep of the Winchesters. Everyone feels sorry for me because I’ve been treated so badly by my own grandmother.”
The dagger found its mark. Her grandmother looked ashamed, but only for a moment. “You seem to have done fine without me.”
“I need to know everything about my father—no matter what it is,” McCall continued. “Are you willing to help me or not?”
“Why don’t you ask your mother?”
McCall didn’t even bother to answer that. “Are we going to keep pretending that I’m not Trace Winchester’s daughter?”
Her grandmother moved to the window to gaze out in the direction of the wind-scoured ridge again. “I’ve just found out that my son is not only dead but that he was murdered and buried within sight of my ranch.”
She turned to look at McCall, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “I’m not up to satisfying your curiosity about him right now.”
“I’m sorry I had to bring you this news,” McCall said. “But I knew you’d want to know right away.”
Something softened in her grandmother’s face, letting her grief show through.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” McCall asked.
Her grandmother straightened, that moment of vulnerability gone. “You needn’t concern yourself with me.”
McCall nodded. “Let me know when you’re ready to help me.” She felt sorry for her grandmother as she left and wondered if she’d ever hear from her again. Doubtful. She was on her own finding her father’s killer.
As she climbed into her pickup, she didn’t see Enid, although she suspected the woman wasn’t far away.
Driving away, McCall turned her thoughts to her mother and realized she had no idea how Ruby would take the news about Trace’s murder.
Chapter Nine
On the way back to Whitehorse, McCall called the café. Her mother was scheduled to work a double shift. “Is Ruby still there?”
“She just stepped outside to sneak a cigarette,” Leo, the cook, told her. “It’s slow, so I think she’s going to leave early. You want me to give her a message?”
“No, that’s all right. I’ll catch her,” McCall said, and hung up as she came over the rise and saw the Milk River Valley—the town of Whitehorse at the heart of it.
As she drove into town, she spotted the small figure of her mother coming down the street from the café toward her vehicle. McCall swung to the curb and reached over to open the passenger side door.
Ruby leaned her head in through the open doorway.
“Hop in.”
Her mother looked startled but didn’t argue as she slid into the seat and slammed the door. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
McCall had figured by now it would be all over town about her getting suspended.
She drove out of town headed north just because that was the way she was pointed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ruby glance out the window then shoot her a questioning look.
“I got suspended for two weeks. I’ll probably get fired.” She looked over at her mother. “I withheld some evidence.”
“You must have had your reasons. I’m sure if you talk to Grant—”
Something in the way her mother said the sheriff’s first name... “That’s right. You used to date Grant.”
Ruby swore. “If this is why you picked me up, then just let me out now. I’m in no mood to have you give me crap about my love life or quiz me about your father.” Her mother reached for her door handle. “I’m serious. Just let me out.”
McCall glanced over at her mother. There was no good way to say this. “Trace didn’t leave you. He never left Whitehorse at all.”
“What are you talking about?” Ruby snapped. “Of course Trace left town. I wasn’t serious about his mother hiding him all these years. Unless she locked him up in one of those rooms at the ranch.”
“You heard Rocky found some bones south of town? They’ve been identified.” She could feel her mother freeze. “Trace didn’t leave you. He’s been out there all these years.”
PEPPER HADN’T BEEN up there in twenty-seven years. Small spaces terrified her, and she wished she felt up to climbing the ladder to the third floor room instead of being forced to take the old elevator.
No one had been in this wing in years judging by the footprints she was leaving in the dust. This was the only other access and the walk here had worn her out. After McCall left, she’d retrieved her cane, hating that she needed it.
She stopped in the dark hallway. Years ago the light bulbs must have burned out. Only faint shafts of light cut through the shuttered windows as she touched the secret panel on the wall to reveal the old elevator.
The metal was cold as she pulled back the gate. Something skittered away in the elevator shaft making her shudder. She hesitated, then stepped into the tiny, cramped space, telling herself she should
