Drops of rain began to pelt the windshield as they pulled into a parking space in front of the diner. Sunny grabbed a collapsible umbrella from the backseat, and they made a run for the door. No sooner were they inside with the bacon and coffee smells than thunder boomed and a torrent of rain washed from the sky, hammering the metal roof like pebbles.

Looking around, they spotted Carrie in a back booth. Smiling brightly, she rose and came to meet them. As always, Cass wondered at the amazing color of her eyes. They were a bright, stunning amethyst.

“Good to see you,” Carrie said, hugging them in turn. “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it before the rain. I swear the clouds chased me all the way from Wimberley.”

“It was sunshiny and clear in Austin,” Cass said.

“I hope it makes it up our way,” Sunny added. “My flowers could use the rain.”

Carrie led them back to the booth where she’d been sitting. “I’m having a cup of coffee already. Would you like some while we study the menu?”

“Absolutely,” Cass said.

Carrie held up two fingers toward the waitress behind the counter, and they soon had steaming cups in front of them. “What’s good here?” she asked as the waitress refilled her cup.

“Everything’s good, but our migas are smokin’. Be right back for your order.”

“You know, as a Texan I hate to admit it, but I’ve never had migas,” Carrie said. “I often see them on menus. What are they?”

“Sort of Tex-Mex scrambled eggs, only better,” Sunny told her. “You start by sautéing small pieces of corn tortillas and add onion and chilies and anything else you want, then scramble all that with eggs beaten with a little cream or milk. Melt cheese over that, and top it with salsa and cilantro.”

“It’s delish,” Cass added. “And practically a staple in Austin.”

“Sounds fattening,” Carrie said. “I was going to have a poached egg and fruit.”

Cass grinned. “Come on, Carrie, live it up. You can have it without chorizo or bacon to save calories.”

Carrie agreed, and they all ordered the “smokin’” migas.

As soon as the waitress left, Cass said, “I know we should ask about Frank and the kids and the rest of the family first, but my curiosity is killing me. What in the world do you want to talk to us about privately?”

“It’s kind of heavy,” Carrie said. “Maybe we’d better wait until after the migas.”

“Car-rie,” Sunny said. “You can’t leave us hanging like that.”

“Sorry. You’re right. Let me start at the beginning. You know I used to be a landman for my uncle’s oil company, and I first went to Naconiche to lease property for drilling.”

“Right,” Cass said.

“Well, a lot of the property belonged to the Outlaw family. It had come down from old Judge John Wesley Hardin Outlaw to his two sons, Wes and Butch. Wes and his family were no problem, but since Butch was dead, I located his recorded will, and he’d left everything to his wife, Iris. I imagine the will was drawn up long before he met your mother.”

Cass and Sunny looked at each other, and Cass wondered where this was going.

“Iris remarried and moved out of state. Nobody was quite sure where she relocated, but intrepid researcher that I am, I found her. She didn’t want anybody in the family to know her whereabouts, so I agreed to keep all her information confidential.”

“And she got the money?” Sunny said.

“Yes.”

“So?”

The waitress returned with their order, and everybody dug into the tantalizing concoction, sensing perhaps that the migas might be less appetizing after Carrie’s tale.

For a few moments, they ate without speaking. Finally Cass could stand it no longer and put down her fork. “Why are you telling us this?”

“Iris Outlaw Bradford, who had been widowed a second time, recently died. Her lawyer contacted me as per her instructions.”

“And?”

“The bottom line is she left everything to the two of you.”

“Good Lord!” Sunny’s fork clattered to her plate. “Why?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Carrie said. “From what I know about the situation, I would assume it was guilt for keeping your father from marrying your mother. I had a feeling that’s why she left Naconiche.”

“How much are we talking about here?” Cass said.

“A considerable amount. The will is being probated, but as far as I can tell, you own your father’s part of the Outlaw land and the income from oil and gas production there. It’s a rich site, and it will be producing for quite some time.”

“Holy guacamole!” Cass said.

“I don’t know any particulars about her personal estate yet, but her lawyer, who is her executor, indicated she was well-fixed.”

“You mean we’re rich?” Sunny said.

“At least quite comfortable. Or you will be as soon as the estate’s settled. I was hoping it would be completed by this weekend so I could give you more particulars, but it will be another few days or perhaps weeks before everything can be turned over to you. Iris’s attorney also sent me this letter to give to the two of you. Perhaps it will answer most of your questions.” Carrie handed them the sealed envelope she’d taken from her bag.

The twin’s names were typed across the front, along with “To be opened after my death.”

Cass took it and used her knife as a letter opener. “Excuse us, Carrie. We can’t wait any longer.” She unfolded the pages and, holding them so Sunny could read, scanned the letter. Her mouth dropped open as she read. “Son of a bitch!” Anger boiled up hotter than molten lava.

“Wrong gender,” Sunny said, “but I couldn’t have said it better. I hope she rots in hell! I don’t want her damned money!”

“She murdered our father!” Cass said to Carrie. “Shot him dead on the steps of the capitol building.”

Sunny tapped the page with her finger. “She admits it right here. No wonder the bitch felt guilty!”

“Oh, dear God,” Carrie said, covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I never imagined…”

Cass touched Carrie’s arm. “No need to be sorry. We’re not going to slay the messenger.” She handed the pages to Carrie to read.

The migas lay congealing on their plates as they all three sat there, stunned by Iris’s confession.

After a long silence, Sunny said, “Well, the case is finally closed. We’ll have to tell Wes right away.”

“Would you like me to tell him?” Carrie asked.

Sunny and Cass looked at each other, then nodded. “Please. I think we need some time to process this.”

“I think you’re right,” Carrie said. “And don’t be too hasty to refuse the money and land. After all, it was your father’s birthright…and yours.”

Cass nodded. “We need to wait until the estate is settled, and we have all the facts and some emotional distance from this.” She fluttered the pages.

“You’re right,” Sunny said. “I feel like I ought to belly up to a bar and toss back a stiff one to settle my nerves, but I’d throw up. My stomach might never be the same again.”

“I hear you,” Cass said. “Carrie, I know you’ll understand if we leave now. We have some concerns to discuss. We need some time to wrap our minds around this.”

“I do understand. I wish I could do something to make the situation easier.”

The waitress came over with the coffeepot and their check. “Something wrong with the migas?”

“The migas were superb,” Cass said.

“I’ll get the check,” Carrie said. “Go ahead.” She stood and hugged them both again.

THE RAIN SOON SLACKED off, and they ran out of it entirely as they drove back to Austin. Cass reread Iris’s letter as they drove. Her initial anger had cooled a bit, and she struggled to study it with an objective mind. “‘If you can’t forgive me, at least I hope you’ll pray for my tortured soul,’” she read aloud. “You know, sis, I’m not nearly ready to forgive her, but I can sort of understand her. Our mother and father weren’t exactly blameless in this situation. He was, after all, a married man.”

“Cass, that doesn’t excuse murder. And with his own damned gun! She deserved to be locked up in prison all these years.”

“Spoken like a cop, but I agree.”

“We have to report this, you know.”

“To whom? And why? It’s been over thirty years.”

“I know,” Sunny said, “but the authorities need to close the case.”

“I suppose you’re right, but I’m more concerned about telling Mom than about turning over Iris’s confession to the police. Do you think we should tell her?”

“Eventually, but not now.”

“I agree,” Cass said. “Let’s pick a better time. Do you wonder how Iris knew so much about us? I get the impression that she’d followed our lives to some extent.”

“With the Internet, tracking down people is fairly easy.”

“Now, sure, but widespread use of the Net is fairly recent.”

“Who knows?” Sunny said. “Private detectives maybe. Or for all we know she may have dropped into Chili Witches now and then for a bowl of chili. Nobody would have recognized her. I don’t think Mom or Aunt Min knew her from a hole in the wall.”

Cass put the letter away and leaned her head against the seat rest. “I wonder if her second husband knew what she’d done. She was a tortured soul for sure.”

“Cass, have you ever considered becoming a defense attorney? You’re beginning to sound like one. I don’t care if she was a tortured soul. She should have thought of the consequences before she pulled the trigger. I’m irritated because somebody from APD didn’t haul her in and sweat a confession out of her. Every rookie knows to look at the spouse first.”

“Tell the truth, Sunny. Did you ever think his wife did it?”

She sighed. “No. I always assumed it was politically motivated somehow. There were some hot issues at the time, and from what I’ve read, our dad made some enemies in the opposite camp.”

When they arrived at Chili Witches, they decided to go into the office and make copies of Iris’s letter, and that Sunny should keep the original in a lockbox at her house. Knowing the media would probably get hold of the story and splash it all over everywhere, they decided to hold off on turning the information over to the police. Maybe Sam could give them some ideas about how best to handle it. After all, Cass reminded her sister, they were under no legal obligation to report what they knew.

“Want to come upstairs?” Cass asked.

“No. I need to get home. Ben and Jay are dropping over later, and we’re going to play miniature golf. Want to go?”

Cass rolled her eyes. “Surely you jest. No, I’m going upstairs to clean my closet and get my mind off this latest disaster. Or wax my legs. Or watch a sappy movie and cry a little bit.” And wish Griff was here.

Sundays were very long when you didn’t have someone to share them with.

HALFWAY THROUGH THE MOVIE, she ran out of tissues and had to resort to a roll of toilet paper tossed on the couch beside her. The movie, although it was a tearjerker, didn’t account for all her weeping. Part of it was loneliness, part of it was sadness over the way her father had died. Part of it was general, wallowing misery over her current circumstances, a vague, amorphous blues. And part of it was probably feeling drained after the emotional day she’d had.

She turned off the television, hugged her knees to her chest and curled her bare toes over the edge of the couch cushion. Why couldn’t life be simple?

Why didn’t Griff call and lift her out of this mood?

Why was she waiting for him to call?

Picking up her cell, she punched in his number. It went directly to voice mail.

Damn. Where was he? Didn’t he know she needed him? Tossing her phone aside, she rested her forehead on her knees and let the despair wash over her.

“Cass? All this will pass.”

She glanced up to see her father sitting in a chair nearby. “Did you know that Iris shot you?”

“She was very hurt and angry. She felt embarrassed and betrayed. You mustn’t resent her. Resentment becomes a festering sore inside you and poisons your whole being. In the end, your negative emotions accomplish nothing and hurt only yourself. Forgiveness is very healing.”

“Did you know she died?”

“I did. She’s very lost right now, but she’ll get better. It would help if you and Sunny would accept her gift. It’s part of her atonement, and I want you to have what’s your birthright. We must all love one another, Cass.”

“I know, but sometimes it’s very difficult. I feel as if my life is in chaos lately.”

“I understand.” His voice was gentle, soothing.

“I love Griff.”

The Senator smiled. “That’s good.”

“But Mom and Aunt Min don’t like him at all, and I don’t think Sunny or the rest of the family are too fond of him, either.”

“Give them time. Everything is going to be all right.”

“I wish I could believe that. I have this awful feeling of impending doom I can’t seem to shake.”

The Senator only smiled and began to fade, leaving behind a whispered, “Trust…”