A Texas Christmas. Diana Palmer

that? In our country, in this day and time, with all the real problems going on, we have to send armed operatives against people living in a natural harmony with the earth?”

      “You’re kidding!” he exclaimed.

      “I wish I was,” she replied. “I guess we’re all going to be force-fed Genetically Modified Organisms from now on.”

      He burst out laughing. “You need to stop hanging out on those covert websites.”

      “I can’t. I’d never know what was really going on in the world, like us having bases on the moon.”

      He rolled his eyes. “I have to get back to work.” He stood up. “You’ll tell him, then.”

      She stood up, too. “Do I have a choice?”

      “You could move to Greenland and change your name.”

      She made a face at him. “That’s no choice. Although I would love to visit Greenland. They have snow.”

      “So do we, occasionally.”

      “They have lots of snow. Enough to make many snowmen. South Texas isn’t famous for that.”

      “The pie was great, by the way.”

      She smiled. “Thanks. I do my best.”

      “I’d have to leave town if you ever closed up,” he told her. “I can’t live in a town that doesn’t have the best food in Texas.”

      “That will get you extra ice cream on your next slice of apple pie!” she promised him with a grin.

      But she wasn’t grinning when she went home. It disturbed her that she was going to have to tell her son something that would devastate him. He wasn’t going to be pleased. Other than that, she didn’t know what the outcome would be. But Grier was right about one thing; it was better that the information came from his mother rather than from some bureaucrat or federal agent who had no personal involvement with Rick and didn’t care how the news affected him. It did make her feel good that so far, they hadn’t blurted it out. By hesitating, they did show some compassion.

      Rick went to his mother’s home tired. It had been a long day of meetings and more meetings, with a workshop on gun safety occasioned by the accidental discharge of a pistol by one of the patrol officers. The bullet went into the asphalt but fortunately didn’t ricochet and hit anything, or anyone. The officer was disciplined but the chain of command saw an opportunity to emphasize gun safety and they took it. The moral of the story was that even experienced officers could mishandle a gun.

      Privately, Marquez wondered how Officer Sims ever got through the police academy, because he was the officer involved. The same guy who’d gone on stakeout with him and Cassaway. He didn’t think a lot of the young man’s ethics and he’d heard that Sims had an uncle high up in the chain of command who made sure he kept his job. It was disturbing.

      “You look worn-out,” Barbara said gently. “Come sit down and I’ll put supper on the table.”

      “It’s late,” he commented, noting his watch.

      “We can have supper at midnight,” she teased. “Nobody’s watching. I’ll even pull down the shades if it makes you happy.”

      He laughed and hugged her. “You’re a treasure, Mom. I’ll never marry unless I can find a girl like you.”

      “That’s sweet. Thanks.”

      She started heating up roast beef and buttered rolls, topping off his plate with homemade potato salad. She put the plate in front of him. “Thank goodness for microwave ovens.” She laughed. “The cook’s best friend.”

      “This is delicious.” He closed his eyes, savoring every bite. “I had a sandwich for lunch and I only had time to eat half of it between meetings.”

      “I didn’t even eat lunch,” she said, dipping into her own roast beef.

      “Why not?”

      “I had a talk with Cash Grier and afterward I lost my appetite.”

      He stopped eating and stared at her with narrowed eyes. “What did he tell you?”

      “Something everybody knows and nobody has the guts to tell you, my darling,” she said, stiffening herself mentally. “I have some very unpleasant news.”

      He put down his fork. “You’ve got cancer.” His face paled. “That’s it, isn’t it? You should have told me …!”

      He got up and hugged her. “We’ll get through it together. I’ll never leave your side …”

      She pulled back, flattered. “I’m fine,” she said. “I don’t have anything fatal. That isn’t what I meant. It’s about you. And your real father.”

      He blinked. “My real father died not long after I was born …”

      She took a deep breath. “Rick, your real father is across the border in Mexico amassing a private army in preparation for invading a South American country.”

      He sat down, hard. His light olive complexion was suddenly very pale. All the gossip and secrecy suddenly made sense. The feds were all over his office, not because they were working on shared cases, but because of Rick.

      “My father is General Emilio Machado,” he said with sudden realization.