"Did you have visitors?" she asked.
Edgar turned his head in Karen's direction and nodded.
"Jim Stiles and a ranger. That Kerney fellow you met. They wanted to ask some questions about the black bear that was shot on the mesa. I wasn't much help. How was your visit with Phil?"
"We started out arguing, as usual."
"I wish the two of you could get along."
"That's hard to do when we're on opposite sides of a lifelong feud between two brothers, and neither of us knows what the conflict is about."
Edgar winced at Karen's criticism.
"I'm sorry it strains your relationship with Phil."
"It might help both Phil and me, if we knew why you and Uncle Eugene hate each other so."
"It would do no good to talk about it. Nothing would change." "Phil told me you went to see Uncle Eugene yesterday."
"I sort of figured he would."
"What was it about. Daddy?"
"It was a business matter," Edgar replied shortly.
"You'll have to do better than that," Karen snapped, sticking her chin out.
"It doesn't concern you."
"If your meeting with Eugene has anything to do with the murder of Hector Padilla, it damn well concerns me."
"Are you accusing me of wrongdoing?" Edgar could hear the annoyance in his voice.
"No, and I didn't say that. But if there is a connection between Hector Padilla's delivery of a letter to you and his murder, in my official capacity I need to know about it. The case falls under my jurisdiction."
Edgar waved off his daughter's demand.
"There is no connection."
"What did the letter say?"
There was a long silence before Edgar answered.
"The letter was for Eugene, requesting payment on a shipment of Mexican cattle."
"The letter was addressed to you, and Hector Padilla asked for you by name, not Uncle Eugene," Karen countered.
"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.