St Kilda Consulting 01 - Always Time to Die

holding her firmly in place. He gave Dan a cool look. “ Trapped with a good-looking woman? Imposing on you?”
    “Gus didn’t have anyone to spare,” Dan said.
    “So you volunteered?”
    “Not exactly.”
    John shook his head at his son, sad and irritated at the same time. “We can live without you smiling. But bad manners? Your mother and I won’t have it.” He turned and smiled gently at Carly. “Do you like New Mexican food?”
    “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” Her stomach rumbled.
    “Hell,” Dan said, disgusted. “Take her home and feed her. I’ve got some online work to do.” He looked at Carly. “One hour.”
    “What work?” John said. “I thought you were on vacation.”
    Dan walked off without answering. The less his father knew about why he was here, the better. Nobody who worked for St. Kilda was ever truly on vacation.
    Carly was still trying to find reasons why she shouldn’t go to the Duran house with John when he opened the front door of his home and gently nudged her inside.
    “Diana? I brought you a treat,” he said.
    Carly wanted to groan. No woman considered an unexpected, unknown guest to be a treat.
    “Bring it back here,” called a woman’s voice.
    John led Carly through a cozy living room. One room was brightened by the framed, smiling faces of children in school photos. Some baby and toddler pictures were clustered on a table. She looked for photos of the previous generations, but saw none.
    Odd. Most people keep all their family photos together, young and old and in between.
    The thought vanished as soon as Carly walked into the kitchen. It was alive with the kind of food smells that made her stomach want to howl. Several pots simmered on the back of a tiny woodburning stove that also served to heat the room. A vintage gas range stood opposite a refrigerator and big sink. If the tank visible in the backyard was any indication, the range had been converted to use propane. Heavy, well-used pots and pans hung from the ceiling within reach of a big butcher block that was so old its surface was gently dished. Ropes of dried peppers in many colors and sizes hung with the pans, interspersed with braids of onions. Smaller braids of garlic, an ingredient not often associated with traditional Southwest cuisine, peeked from behind a huge frying pan.
    Carly took a deep breath and tried not to drool. “What a great kitchen.”
    “It’s my favorite room in the house,” John said. “Used to be Dan’s, too, but nothing much pleases him now.”
    Before she could ask what had happened to Dan, John gestured her toward a small glassed-in room just off the kitchen. Inside, a nicely rounded woman wearing jeans and a man’s shirt was tending to row after row of small plants. Her short hair was very dark, with a startling streak of silver at her left temple.
    “Wash your hands, sweetheart,” John said. “I want you to meet Carly May.”
    For an instant, Carly thought she saw tension stiffen the woman’s body.
    “Momentito,” Diana said, the word almost too soft to hear. Deliberately she washed and dried her hands, keeping her back to the guest.
    Carly wanted to sink between the cracks in the old wood floor.
    Finally Diana turned around. The lines on her face said that she was old enough to be a grandmother. The darkness in her eyes said that life’s journey hadn’t been an easy one. Then, after an uncomfortable moment while Diana assessed the stranger in her kitchen, she smiled. It transformed her from a dark, brooding presence to a beautiful woman.
    Well, no doubt where Dan got his looks, Carly thought as she automatically held out her hand while John introduced them. But, wow, that smile. You could light up winter with that. She wondered if Dan had inherited the smile along with the coloring.
    Then she wondered what it would take to find out.
    “You have a fantastic kitchen,” Carly said. “I’ve always wanted one like this, a place that’s warm and welcoming.”
    “You’re very kind,” Diana said. Her voice was subdued, almost hesitant, and vibrant with leashed emotions.
    Dan’s voice has Diana’s intensity and their smiles are to die for. Carly almost sighed. It must be nice to look at someone and see yourself reflected.
    The familiar sense of being somehow incomplete flickered through her. She shrugged it off, reminding herself that a lot of people didn’t know who one or both parents were, and got along just fine anyway.
    “I’m sorry to impose,” Carly