to be found. Just like his youngest son, Trace. Until now.
An old gray-muzzled heeler with one brown and one blue eye hobbled out to growl beside McCall’s patrol pickup.
She turned off the engine, waiting as she watched the front door of the lodge. The place looked even larger up close. How many wings were there?
When no one appeared, she eased open her vehicle door, forcing the dog back as she stepped out. The heeler stumbled away from her still growling. She kept an eye on him as she walked to the front door.
She didn’t see any vehicles, but there was an old log building nearby that looked as if it was a garage, large enough to hold at least three rigs.
While she’d never seen her grandmother, McCall had run across Pepper’s housekeeper, Enid—an ancient, broomstick-thin, brittle woman with an unpleasant face and an even worse disposition.
McCall had heard a variety of stories about Enid Hoagland, none of them complimentary. The housekeeper and her husband apparently took care of Pepper. Enid did the cooking and cleaning. Her husband, Alfred, did upkeep on the isolated ranch.
Some said the Hoaglands acted as guards to protect and care for Pepper. Others were of the opinion that the old couple kept Pepper Winchester hostage on the ranch to make sure they got the Winchester fortune when she died instead of her heirs.
McCall knocked at the weathered door, glancing around as she waited. A quiet hung over the wind-scoured place as if everything here had withered up and died.
She knocked harder and thought she heard a sound on the other side of the door. “Sheriff’s Department. Open up.”
After a long moment, the door creaked slowly open. An old woman appeared on the other side, and for a moment McCall thought she was about to come face-to-face with her grandmother.
But as the light flowed into the dark entry, she saw that it was only Enid Hoagland.
Enid scowled at her. “What do you want?” she demanded by way of greeting.
“I need to speak with Pepper Winchester.”
“That isn’t possible. Mrs. Winchester doesn’t see anyone.” She started to close the door, but McCall stuck a booted foot in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, but she’ll have to see me unless you want me to come back with a warrant to search the house,” McCall bluffed. “Tell her it’s Deputy Sheriff McCall Winchester.”
A malicious light flickered on in Enid’s close-set gray eyes. “You’re making a mistake,” she said under her breath.
McCall feared the old woman was right.
A sound like the tinkling of a small bell came from deep in the lodge. Enid seemed to hesitate. “You will regret this.”
McCall didn’t doubt it. The older woman stepped aside and the deputy sheriff entered her father’s family home for the first time in her life.
Chapter Three
Enid led McCall into what could only be called a parlor. The decor was old-time Western, the rustic furnishings dated as if the house had been sealed for more than thirty years.
McCall was too nervous to sit. She’d forced her way in here, and now she wasn’t sure what she would say to her grandmother when she finally saw her for the first time.
At the sound of faint footfalls in the hallway, she turned, bracing herself, and yet she was still shocked. Nothing could have prepared her for the elderly woman who stepped into the room.
Pepper Winchester was surprisingly spry for seventy-two. She stood, her back ramrod straight, her head angled as if she was irritated. Her face was lined but there was something youthful about her. She was tall and slim, elegant in her black silk caftan.
Her hair, which had apparently once been dark like McCall’s, was now peppered with gray. It trailed down her slim back in a single loose braid. Her eyes were ebony, her cheekbones high, just like McCall’s.
The resemblance was both striking and shocking. McCall had had no idea just how much she looked like her grandmother.
If Pepper Winchester noticed the resemblance, her demeanor gave no notice of it. Nor was there any indication that she knew who McCall was.
“Yes?” she demanded.
McCall found her voice. “I’m Deputy Sheriff McCall Winchester.”
Had the dark eyes widened just a little?
“I need to ask you a few questions.”
“I’m sure my housekeeper told you I don’t see visitors.”
But you saw me. Why was that? Not because of the threat of a warrant. “I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t important. It’s about your son Trace’s disappearance.”
“Have you found him?” The hope in her grandmother’s voice and posture was excruciating. So was the fear she heard there. And yet, Pepper Winchester had to know that if there was any news of Trace, the sheriff would have been here—not some lowly deputy.
“I’m investigating his disappearance,” McCall said quickly, taking out her notebook and pen.
“After twenty-seven years?” Pepper asked in disbelief. She seemed to shrink, all the starch coming out of her, all the spirit. “What’s the point?”
“When was the last time you saw your son?”
Pepper shook her head, her dark eyes dimming in the dull light. “I should think you would know that, since I gave that information to the sheriff at the time.”
McCall saw that this had been a mistake. What had she hoped to accomplish? She had wanted to see her grandmother. And now she had. The best thing she could do was to leave before Pepper Winchester got on the phone to the sheriff.
But she’d come too far. She couldn’t leave things like this. Nor had she gotten what she’d come for. “Is there anyone who might have wanted to harm him?”
Pepper raised her head slightly, her dark eyes locking with McCall’s. “Other than your mother?”
“Did your son have any enemies?”
“No.” Instantly, she corrected herself. “Buzz Crawford. He hated my family, Trace in particular.” Her voice broke as she said her son’s name.
Again the former game warden’s name had come up in relation to Trace.
“Was your son blackmailing Buzz Crawford?”
“What? Who would even say something like that? Your mother?” She raised her nose into the air. “My son didn’t have to resort to blackmail. He was a Winchester. He wasn’t going to serve any jail time. I would have seen to that.”
Her grandmother’s gaze flicked over her, anger and impatience firing those dark eyes,
