'He made a mistake.'
'Why didn't you drop the letter in the mail?'
'Because I figured there was some urgency to the situation. Are you finished giving me the third degree?'
Karen bit her lip. It all sounded reasonable, except for a feeling she had that her father was lying. The visit to his brother was an unheard-of event in the family.
'We'll leave it at that for now,' she said, studying her father's face intently.
'Tell Mom dinner is ready. That's if you're still planning to eat with us.'
Edgar looked away, then looked back and forced a smile.
'Of course we are.'
Karen could not recall a time before when her father had lied to her.
Demoralized by the thought, she tried unsuccessfully to dismiss it.
With Jim off on his own to interview the area ranchers who knew about the mountain lion translocation project, Kerney headed for the Slash Z.
The homestead looked much the way he remembered it.
His only visit had been years ago as a teenager when he had competed in the state high school rodeo championships. He and his best friend. Dale Jennings, made the trip in an old truck and camped out at the rodeo grounds to save money. Unable to get away, both Dale's and his parents were back at the Jennings ranch, where Kerney's father worked as the foreman.
Cory Cox, Phil's older brother, who was also competing in the championship, had invited Kerney and Dale out for dinner, which had turned into a rather gloomy event. Eugene Cox had not been a gracious or pleasant host.
The old man on the porch in the wheelchair grunted at him as he walked up the ramp.
'Who the hell are you?' Eugene Cox demanded.
'Kevin Kerney.'
Eugene squinted at him.
'I know that name. Did I ever meet you before?' He looked exactly like his brother except for sunken cheeks that gave his face an unhealthy cast and a mouth fixed in a perpetual scowl.
'A long time ago, Mr. Cox. When I was in high school.'
Eugene stared at him for a long time.
'Damn if you aren't right. You're that kid from Engle who beat Cory in the finals of the high school rodeo championship, the year they held it in Reserve. Cory should have won that buckle.'
Kerney smiled.
'That's what you told me then.'
'I still mean it. What do you want?'
'How is Cory?'
'Dead. Vietnam.'
'Sorry to hear it.' 'Don't be,' Eugene said flatly.
Kerney sat on the porch rail and looked at the view. The Slash Z was close to the Mangas Mountains.
The sun was low in the sky, about to drop below the crest. A red-and-gold sheen frosted the forest canopy. Kerney could imagine himself running a spread like the Slash Z. He couldn't think of a happier thing to do with his life. But it would take a mountain of cash to buy anything equal to the Slash Z these days; it was a multimillion- dollar ranch.
The thought of the ranch his parents had lost to the Army still made Kerney's gut ache when he dwelled on it too much. He shook it off.
'Pretty country,' he finally said.
'It'll do.' Eugene pushed his chair closer to Kerney. 'Did you drive out here to look at the view?'
Kerney chuckled.
'No. Phil asked me to stop by and visit.'
Eugene pointed at the house at the other side of the horse pasture.
'He's home.'
'I see his truck,' Kerney said.
'What do you think about the murder at the meadows?'
'I'll tell you what I think. Last ten years or so there's been a hell of a lot of Mexicans coming up here trying to buy every ranch that comes on the market. I think somebody got sick and tired of it. I know I am.'
'The victim was a medical student,' Kerney noted.
'I know that,' Eugene growled.
'It doesn't change my feeling. It's a damn shame that our government lets foreigners buy American property. There ought to be a law against it.'
'There was an older man with him by the name of Jose Padilla, who may have lived here at one time.
Does that ring a bell with you?'
'Jose Padilla, you say? No. There were a lot of people by the name of Padilla living in Mangas back in the twenties and early thirties. I went to school with some of them, but I don't remember anybody by that name. Doesn't mean he wasn't living in the valley. But I don't recall him. I didn't socialize all that much with those folks. Still don't.'
'Your brother said he might know him.'
'Did he, now? That doesn't surprise me. He always took to Mexicans a lot more readily than I did.'
Kerney smiled, tipped his hat, and took his leave.
Phil's wife, Doris, was setting the supper table when Kerney was ushered into the house by PJ, who introduced him to his mother. A tiny woman, Doris wore no makeup, and her brown hair was cut short.
She had straight eyebrows that almost ran together.
After a shy greeting, her brown eyes darted away as she returned her concentration to arranging place mats and setting out the knives and forks.
'Phil's cleaning up,' she said.
'He'll be with you in a minute. PJ, take Mr. Kerney into the living room and make him comfortable.'
In the living room Kerney met PJ's younger brother and sister. Bobby, about the same age as Karen's son, had a chunky frame and a sober baby fat face. Looking bored, he wandered off after a few minutes to the television set in the family room.
Jennifer, who was two years younger than PJ, looked a lot like her mother, with the same coloring, thin frame, and shy smile. Kerney tried some small talk with her and PJ, which fell flat. Both children seemed shut down, with nothing much to say. He was rescued by Phil Cox and a call to the dinner table by Doris.
Over dinner, a meat-and-potatoes meal, Phil dominated the conversation.
The children stayed quiet, and Doris kept her contributions to automatic slight nods of her head whenever Phil looked her way. She busied herself serving food and correcting the children's table manners, with an occasional glance and small smile in Kerney's direction. It reminded Kerney of his long-ago meal with Eugene Cox.
Kerney asked Phil a lot of questions and found that he had nothing of value to add to the investigation, but the food was decent, and Phil seemed to enjoy the company.
After dinner, with the children excused and Doris in the kitchen, Kerney was about to take his leave when Phil was called to the phone.
He returned shaking his head and chuckling.
'That was my father,' he said, as he pulled out his chair and sat down.
'I told him you had stayed for supper, and he didn't like it one bit.
Said I shouldn't be letting the man who stole Cory's championship eat at my table. Why the hell didn't you tell me who you were?'
'That happened a long time ago.'
'Yeah, it did, but I should have remembered. I'll tell you one thing:
Cory never saw it the way Dad did. He said you won that buckle fair and square.'
'That's good to hear.'
Phil stood up.
'Let me get PJ in here. He'd love to hear about how you and his uncle Cory went head to head in the state
