St Kilda Consulting 01 - Always Time to Die Read Free

outside the vast mainstream of human experience, a nameless reject from someone’s family tree.
    Stop with the pity party, Carly told herself. Martha and Glenn raised me better than most kids are raised by their biological parents.
    She shifted, trying to bring her feet to life.
    The minister was made of sterner stuff. Only his lips moved.
    Andy glanced sideways at Carly and winked. She ignored him. Even without the green tinge to his skin, the scion of the Quintrell family didn’t appeal to her. He was a little too in love with himself. All right, a lot too in love with himself. Unfortunately, other than the employees’ kids, Carly was the only woman under forty on the whole ranch. Two seconds after Andy met her, he’d decided that she was going to take the curse off the boring rural nights.
    Finally the minister ran out of poets and signaled for the casket to be lowered into the grave. The mechanism worked slowly and not quite silently. When it was finally still, Josh threw the obligatory handful of dirt on the casket.
    “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” he said quietly.
    Winifred surprised everyone by dumping a double handful of soil onto the casket. Her expression said she’d like to shovel more in and be done with it—and the Senator.
    Carly made a mental note of her employer’s hard pleasure in the Senator’s death. If any of the Quintrells were surprised by Winifred’s actions, no one showed it. That, too, intrigued Carly. Emotions were the flesh and wine of family history.
    As the governor and his wife withdrew from the graveside, Father Roybal went to Josh. “I’m sorry, my son. Although the Senator never confessed to me, I feel that God will welcome this good man’s soul into His keeping.”
    Winifred made a sound rather like the raven’s.
    Josh ignored her. “Thank you, Father Roybal. You and your church have brought comfort to many of New Mexico’s citizens. I’ll be certain to express the Quintrell family’s appreciation in a more tangible way in the years to come.”
    The other man nodded. Like Josh, the priest knew that many of the citizens in the state were Catholic. Any good deeds done for the Catholic church by the governor would please a lot of voters.
    “May I come and talk with you as I did your father?” Roybal asked.
    “Unlike the Senator, I’m content in my religion,” Josh said easily. “If that changes, I’ll seek your counsel.”
    Roybal was young and ambitious, but he wasn’t stupid. He accepted the refusal with grace. “I will keep your family in my prayers.”
    “Thank you, Father.” Josh took Anne’s elbow to help her over the frozen earth toward the hearse. “Prayers are always welcome.”
    Carly watched the state’s first couple head toward the relative warmth of the hearse, followed by the Protestant minister and the Catholic priest. Each man of God had his own modest car. Vehicle doors opened and closed in a series of sharp noises.
    She glanced at Winifred hopefully. The old woman was looking into the grave with an odd expression on her face. It could have been regret or even pleasure. It could have been indigestion. Carly didn’t know Winifred well enough to judge. But if Carly had to bet, she’d go with a grim kind of pleasure.
    “Carly?” Andy said. “Why don’t you ride back with us? There’s plenty of room. We could talk about family and things.”
    Winifred shot him a black look. “I’m paying her, not you. When I want her to interview you, I’ll tell you.”
    “Hey. Indentured servitude is passé,” Andy said. “She’s a fully grown woman. She can talk for herself.”
    “She certainly can,” Carly said distinctly. “Thank you for the offer of a ride, but Miss Simmons y Castillo and I have a lot to discuss before I’ll be ready to interview family members.”
    “I won’t be here long,” Andy warned.
    Thank God. Carly managed a smile. “Telephones work for me.”
    “They aren’t very personal.”
    “Handicaps just make a job more