Birthright

would she go?” Jake drew a circle around Richard Carlyle’s name on the chart. “To Daddy.”
    “You run this theory by the cops, they’re going to think you’re crazy or brilliant.” Doug blew out a breath. “But if they’re open to it, and they toss it at Dorothy, she might slip.”
    “Let me put it together. On paper.” Lana pushed up her sleeves. “Make it as objective and detailed as possible.” This time she picked up the coffeepot. “But I could use some caffeine.”
    “Jeez. Okay, okay, I’ll make it.” In disgust, Callie grabbed the pot. She strode out, then slowed as she wound her way through the living room. She recognized the heroic snores that could only be Digger’s. The lump in the recliner had to be Matt.
    She knew the lovebirds had taken a room upstairs, and Leo had stayed over and taken another.
    Though she agreed with Jake’s rundown of her team, she detoured upstairs, poked in each room to count heads. Satisfied, she went down to the kitchen, measured out coffee.
    “Everybody here?” Jake asked from behind her. “I figured you’d look—and if you didn’t, I would.”
    “All present and accounted for.” She dashed salt into the coffee, then poured in the water, set the machine to brew. “If we’re right, this has been going on for three generations. Whether or not Richard Carlyle took an active part, he knew. There’s something even more hideous about that. Passing down this, well, evil, from father to son to daughter.”
    “A powerful patriarch using his influence, the strength of his personality, family loyalties. It was the structure the preceding generations grew up in. Their base.”
    “And if Richard discovered he was in the same position as I am? Worse, much worse, because his parents, or at least his father, knew. Knew and orchestrated. How could he be a part of perpetuating it, of covering it up, of profiting from it?”
    He crossed to her, traced his fingers gently over her bruised cheekbone. “You know as well as I do that environment and heredity help structure an individual. Nature and nurture. He made his choices and they took him downa different path from any you could’ve taken. Your genes, your upbringing, your own sense of self wouldn’t have allowed it.”
    “Would I have protected my father anyway? The father I knew and loved? If I’d discovered he was a monster, would I have protected him?”
    “I know the answer. Do you?”
    She sighed, reached for fresh mugs. “Yes. I wouldn’t have been able to. It would have ripped me into pieces, but I couldn’t have.”
    “You found what you were digging for, Cal.”
    “Yeah. Now it’s exposed, in the air. And I have to put it on display. I don’t have a choice.”
    “No.” He took her shoulders, drew her back, kissed the top of her head. “You wouldn’t.”
    She turned as the phone rang. “Jesus, it’s two in the morning. Who the hell’s calling? Dunbrook.”
    “Hello, Callie.”
    “Hello, Dory.” Callie grabbed a pencil, scrawled on the wall by the phone. Call the cops. Trace the call. “How’s the nose?”
    “It hurts like a bitch. And believe me, you’re going to pay for that.”
    “Come on over. We can go another round.”
    “We’ll go another round, I promise. But you’re going to have to come to me.”
    “When and where?”
    “You think you’re so smart, so cool, so clever. I’ve been running rings around you for weeks. I still am. I’ve got your mother, Callie.”
    The blood stopped pumping through her veins, iced over. “I don’t believe you.”
    There was a laugh, full of horrible humor. “Yes, you do. Don’t you wonder which mother? Don’t you want to find out?”
    “What do you want?”
    “How much are you willing to pay?”
    “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it.”
    “I want my mother!” Her voice spiked. The wild rage init curdled Callie’s stomach. “Are you going to get her for me, you bitch? You ruined her life, and I’m going to ruin yours.”
    “They’re only questioning her.” As she began to shake, Callie gripped the counter. “They might have let her go by now.”
    “Liar! Another lie about my mother and I’ll use this knife I’m holding on yours.”
    “Don’t hurt her.” Terror clawed icy fingers down her spine. “Don’t hurt her, Dory.” She reached for Jake’s hand, squeezed hard. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
    “Call the police, and she’s dead. Understand? Call the police, and you’ll