“What if it’s something she can’t or shouldn’t handle on her own?” Hank asked, trying to appeal to her common sense. “What if she’s in over her head?”

Carine averted her eyes, and Hank knew he had her—she was on the defensive. He wasn’t crazy. Something was up with Antonia. But he made sure he didn’t let any victory, any smugness, show. Too much was at stake. Every instinct he had said so.

But ten seconds stretched into thirty, thirty into a minute, and she didn’t say a word.

Hank let a hiss of impatience escape. “If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on, Carine, okay, I can’t make you.” He paused, debating, then said, “I’ll just call Gus.”

She didn’t like that. Gus Winter had raised them since he’d carted the bodies of his brother and sister-in-law off Cold Ridge thirty years ago, when he was just twenty years old himself and in no position to take on three little kids.

Carine jumped to her feet, her long hair whipping around as she flounced across the small, dingy linoleum floor to the scarred stainless steel sink. “What do you mean, you’ll call Gus? Like Antonia and I are twelve years old or something?”

Hank leaned back against the ancient counter cabinets. This was working. He couldn’t back off—he had to go for the jugular. “All right. Forget Gus. I’ll get Tyler here. He can hang you out your window by your toes until you talk.”

She stopped dead, one hand on the sink faucet, color rising high in her cheeks. “Go ahead. See if I care.”

“I just want you to understand that I’m serious. Something’s going on with Antonia. I think you know it, or at least sense it, but you want to make this hard because you promised her you’d keep your mouth shut.” Hank let his tone soften slightly and attempted a smile. “I figure Antonia will forgive you for talking if you tell her I stooped low enough to threaten to sic Ty North on you.”

“Meaning you’re bluffing?”

“Meaning I wouldn’t underestimate my determination.”

She let out an exasperated sigh but said nothing.

“Is Antonia in some kind of trouble, Carine?” Hank asked. “Are you?”

“Not me.” Her eyes spit fire at him. “I’m in good shape now that I have all you military types out of my life.”

“I’m just a senate candidate these days.”

She scowled. “Don’t think I’ll vote for you.”