Pushing Up Bluebonnets yrm-5
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"What I still don't get," Cooper said, "is why your assailant clearly protected you from further harm after he warned you off the case."
"That's got me buffaloed, too," Jeff said.
"Okay, let's backtrack so I can get this straight," I said. "You two believe that the parking garage guy knew about Dugan, too? I mean, we know Dugan and JoLynn were connected. But maybe this guy didn't. Maybe his warning was all about her."
Jeff nodded. "I agree. That's why I've asked DeShay to mention chloroform to the ME. If garage guy used chloroform on both you and Dugan, that answers your question. The evidence would still be circumstantial— bad guy warns you off your investigation into JoLynn's past and uses chloroform. Then chloroform is used on Kent Dugan to subdue him before he gets tossed in the bayou. But how many turds are using chloroform these days?"
"Okay. Now I understand," I said.
"Being Friday, bodies have been piling up at the ME's office, so DeShay has to wait for Dugan's turn. But his first question to whoever performs the autopsy will be about chloroform."
I shook my head, feeling a little overwhelmed by all this information. "There are still so many unanswered questions."
"You're good at pulling things together, hon. Between you, Cooper and DeShay, you've got a dream team."
Jeff was definitely getting lucky tonight, and obviously understood my smile because he winked at me.
Then I heard Kate at the back door—I knew it was her because Webster was barking his excited head off. When they came in, she released him from his leash. First he sniffed Cooper, then slobbered a few kisses on Jeff and me. Greetings accomplished, he bounded off to find his best friend, Diva. A little hide-and-seek was in order.
"Kate," I said, "this is Chief Cooper Boyd, the police officer I've been working with from Pineview PD."
Their mutual smiles as he took her hand warmed my heart a little. At least she wasn't looking all sad and wary. Maybe she was coming out of her funk.
He said, "Please, no Officer or Chief anything. It's Cooper."
"Abby says you're former FBI," she said. "I have this secret wish to be a profiler, but I'm not sure I could take dealing with so much evil day in and day out."
Jeff and I exchanged confused glances and I wanted to say, "She wants to be a profiler? When did that happen?" But then I thought about the guy who'd sent her into her tailspin, how she'd never seen through him, despite all her training and experience as a psychologist. Maybe she'd decided profiling skills might save her from falling for idiots in the future.
Kate went to the fridge and took out the bottle of chardonnay. "I need to catch up with the three of you. I see Cooper needs a refill." She nodded at his empty beer bottle.
Not long after, Loreen dropped Doris off and we ordered our pizzas. Jeff nixed the double pepperoni Doris begged for and we went veggie all the way to support his effort to keep her diet as healthy as possible. Kate and Cooper, of course, loved this idea.
The movie Doris chose was Happy Feet, but I was glad to see that Cooper and Kate weren't the least bit interested in the DVD. They remained in quiet conversation through both run-throughs, Webster and Diva cuddled together nearby.
What a nice ending to an awful week, I thought, as Doris asked Jeff and me for a third replay.
25
I met with the police sketch artist Saturday morning, and we worked together re-creating the man I'd seen in the supermarket and again in the parking garage. The eyes were his most striking feature and she did such an accurate drawing I actually got goose bumps when I studied her final product. She said Jeff would be picking up the sketch later today, and my guess was she'd done this as a favor, since I doubted she worked on Saturdays. Jeff had many friends in the department who'd do anything for him. But then, so would I.
I walked to my car and slid behind the wheel, leaving the windows open as I turned the ignition and blasted the air-conditioning. Once most of the heat had left my car, I rolled up the windows and started home. I'd left Cooper in my office around ten a.m. and I assumed he was still searching for information on the names culled from the newspaper clippings.
Jeff promised Doris they'd see the latest Disney feature at the "big TV," as she always called the movie theater. He was taking her to a first showing followed by a trip to shop for new jigsaw puzzles, so those two probably weren't at the house.
Kate would be waiting for my call once I returned home so we could all head to the hospital and visit JoLynn. We wondered if she and Kent Dugan might have spoken right before her wreck—perhaps a call where he asked her to get money from Richter and hand it over to him. Since she apparently didn't have a cell phone and Dugan's was damaged, we couldn't check on any recent contact between those two except by asking.
Then, thinking about the job Richter wanted me to do—keep hunting for clues to JoLynn's past—I pulled my phone from my bag and called Penny.
"Hi, Abby," she said when she answered. "Have you solved your Elizabeth case yet?"
"No, and I hate to bother you on the weekend, but I could use a teeny bit more help. I know you can't give me the names of any of the girl's foster parents, but I remember that a police officer picked her up at that bus station. I could talk to him, right?"
"Talk to her. Officer Shauna Anthony. She worked with us on plenty of child abuse cases—but she retired because of health issues . . . maybe two years ago, if I remember right."
"Do you know how I can get in touch with her?"
"Sorry, no, but I think there's a retired officers' group. They might be able to help."
"Thanks so much, Penny." I disconnected, then punched my speed dial number for DeShay.
He answered on the first ring. "My Abby girl is calling. If you want Dugan's cause of death, I can't help you. The autopsy should be completed later today."
"It's not that. I need to find a retired HPD officer and since Jeff is with Doris at a movie, he can't help me right now." I explained who the officer was and why I wanted to talk to her.
"I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks, DeShay," I said.
"They'll be calling me for the autopsy soon, so I might be late getting back to you."
"I understand," I said. By the time I disconnected, I was nearly home.
Cooper was indeed still in my office when I came in, a cup of steaming green tea on the desk. Boiling-hot tea in August? Was he immune to a heat index of about two hundred?
He leaned back in the leather chair, fingers laced behind his neck. "It is so nice to have friends in high places. If I'd been forced to rely on Pineview PD's resources rather than the FBI to track down all these folks in those newspaper clippings, we'd be waiting for weeks."
"What did you find out?"
"I have phone numbers and addresses, should we need them. But I won't go that route first. I'm hoping JoLynn is alert enough to answer questions. Kate called, by the way. She said she'd drive us to the hospital so we can use her parking spot."
"That's the best news I've had all day. She say anything else?"
"No, why?" He was hedging, looked embarrassed, actually.
"Come on. What did you two talk about?"
"I mentioned how you'd noticed a copy of An American Tragedy under our faker Joe Johnson's chair. I asked her what her take on that was."
Huh? I thought. He and I and anyone with half a brain would know what a book like that told us about Joe Johnson. He wasn't your average stupid criminal. "What else did you talk about?" I gave him a knowing grin.
"Okay, smart-ass. We got to talking about the book. Then we went on to other things we like to read. She's a Sinclair Lewis fan like I am."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. You happy now? I like your sister. She's brilliant and gorgeous and I want to get to know her better, okay?"
I smiled. "Take it slow, okay? She had a bad experience not long ago. When she's ready, maybe she'll tell you about it."
"Hope I get the chance. Want to give your sister that call so we can get to the
hospital? Maybe we can ask JoLynn about using that fake ID."
I wanted to say, "Why don't you call Kate? I have to brush my teeth or try to make my hair look like it only needs conditioner and not a therapist." I mean, Sinclair Lewis and green tea? Could there possibly be two other people on the planet with that peculiar bond? I thought not.
But I did make the call and Kate pulled into my driveway in less than fifteen minutes. Obviously she'd been ready and waiting. Good sign.
I took the backseat and Cooper sat up front with Kate. She'd traded in her 4Runner for a Scion and they started talking about the importance of hybrid cars almost immediately. I just enjoyed the ride. When Kate dropped me off at Ben Taub so I wouldn't have to walk in the heat, Cooper insisted he'd accompany Kate from her parking spot. I didn't argue.
Elliott Richter and nephew Scott were standing in the tiny, stark lobby when I walked in. Guess the relatives were on a rotating hospital assignment to accompany Richter here.
After we exchanged hellos, I said, "Why are you down here?" I nodded at the windows. "Unless you wanted a look at a log cabin smack-dab in the center of a hospital complex."
Richter glanced through the floor-to-ceiling window at the very old log cabin just across the Ben Taub Loop as if he'd just noticed it for the first time.
Scott, preppy as usual in a red polo and bone-colored khakis, said, "What the heck is that building for, anyway?"
"I think it's one of those strong statements Texas landowners are famous for. This house is mine and I ain't movin' no matter what you want to build here. The cabin dates way back, probably has as rich a history as Glenwood Cemetery. I've been there to your family plot, by the way."
Richter looked at me sharply. "Why?"
"I did a little research before I met you. Did you know JoLynn went up there every week to visit Katarina's grave?" I glanced back and forth between Richter and Scott.
Richter's eyes showed his surprise. And Scott decided the floor was suddenly fascinating.
I said, "Scott, I'm getting the feeling you knew."
He looked up, and when he spoke, he addressed his uncle, not me. "I went with her a couple times. She was—how can I say this? She was . . . obsessed with Katarina. I couldn't answer her questions, Uncle Elliott. I remember when Katarina came back, how sick she was, but that's all. I told JoLynn to talk to you about her mother."
"What kind of questions did JoLynn ask, Scott?" I said before Richter could respond.
"She wanted to know what Katarina liked to read, the places she liked to go, what she liked to do. That's natural . . . normal, I guess. When I had no answers, she'd sit there and cry and I—I'm not so hot with crying women. I couldn't help her."
Richter stared out at the log cabin. "She and I never talked much about Katarina. I only told JoLynn that she was very much like her mother. I wish now I would have told her that I recognized that same kindness, that JoLynn's eyes always showed how much she cared, how she seemed to want to absorb every word I said. But it was uncomfortable after all these years to have someone care that much." He looked at me. "I don't have an ounce of insight, Abby, and yet JoLynn wanted to know what made me tick."
An awkward silence followed, one I couldn't stand for more than a few seconds. I said, "Back to my original question. Why are you down here in the lobby? It's not very people-friendly."
"JoLynn is being moved out of the ICU," Richter said. "The new security guard is keeping watch during the transfer. We almost went to the cafeteria, but since it's in the basement, I was afraid I wouldn't get the call once JoLynn has been settled in her new room."
"She must be better," I said. "That's great news."
Scott grinned. "She is. She recognized me, held my hand."
"Great." I looked at Richter. "You didn't bring up the accident or tell her about Dugan's death, I hope."
"Chief Boyd has made himself very clear," Richter said. "That's not my place. Besides, she's frightened and in quite a bit of pain now that the sedation has been decreased. My focus is on her comfort. I want her moved to Methodist as soon as possible."
I couldn't wrap my brain around the fact that he knew she had fake ID, that she could be a fraud, and this still didn't matter. Maybe Kate could get inside his head.
"Cooper and my sister are on the way from the parking garage," I said.
"Ah, Kate. Very pleasant young woman," Richter said. "She'll be good for JoLynn. The trauma she's suffered is beginning to sink in."
I looked at Scott. "How are you doing with all this?"
"I'm relieved JoLynn is recovering, that she could move out of ICU. But she was pretty upset when she found out they drilled a hole in her skull to drain a blood clot."
"They did?" I glanced back and forth between him and Richter.
Scott said, "Yeah. You can't see where they shaved her hair, because the bandage covering the hole is back here." He pointed to a spot behind and above his ear.
"I thought you knew," Richter said. "Her clot was small, not life threatening, thank goodness."
But I was imagining the tools necessary to do this procedure. I thought about my shop class in high school—the one I took because of the pleasant boy-togirl ratio—and remembered drill bits of all sizes. No wonder she was scared and in pain. She'd lived through the equivalent of a horror movie.
"How long will the move take?" I said.
Richter checked his watch. "I don't know why it's even taken this long. This hospital may be excellent for trauma, but my God, the rest of the place is . . . never mind. They saved her life and I can't complain."
Kate and Cooper arrived then and I explained why we were waiting around in the cramped lobby.
Then Cooper surprised me, probably surprised everyone, by saying, "Mr. Richter, I'd like to chat with you in private—maybe in the cafeteria?"
Richter stiffened, glanced at the cell phone he was gripping like a lifeline. "And why is that?"
"I'll explain downstairs. A few questions, that's all."
"The rest of us can wait here," Kate the Accommodator said quickly.
"Sorry." Cooper's eyes offered her a bigger apology than I thought necessary. "This shouldn't take long."
"Wait." Richter seemed about as happy as an exsmoker who'd forgotten his Nicorette. "I want Abby to accompany us. She works for me, Boyd. She's aware of everything that's gone on."
Cooper hesitated, then said, "Sure. Kate, you okay hanging out with Scott?"
"I'd like to get to know him better," she answered with a smile. "We didn't get much of a chance to talk at the ranch the other night."
So Cooper, Richter and I went downstairs, got coffee and sat at a table as far from the food stations as possible. The lunch crowd had dissipated and the place was nearly deserted.
"I have some serious questions, Mr. Richter," Cooper said. "Consider this talk an informal interview. If I learn I need to take this discussion further, we'll talk again at the Pineview police station, where I will get your answers on tape."
"On tape? Do you suspect me of something?" Richter said.
"Like I said, this is informal. No tape, no notes, no lawyer required," Cooper said. "We simply need to get to the truth."
Uh-oh. Cooper was ready to ask about things we'd speculated on in the last few days. I knew this because I was sitting across from Cooper and the hardness I'd seen in his stare when he'd brought out the worst in Dugan the other night was back with a vengeance.
"You think I don't want the truth as well? Get on with your questions," Richter said.
"Are you aware that Elizabeth 'JoLynn' Dugan is most likely not your granddaughter?" Cooper said.
Gosh, don't beat around the bush or anything, I thought.
Richter's expression went from irritated to jumbo-size irritated in an instant. "What are you talking about?"
"Aside from the fake ID, the missing birth certificate and credible evidence she was scamming you, I suppose I don't know what I'm talking about."
"What are you implying, Chief Boyd?"
Richter said. Man, his stinger was out now. This was not a guy used to being challenged.
"From what I've learned about you," Cooper said, "I'm guessing you knew all about her misrepresentation not long after she arrived at your place a year ago."
I was certain Cooper was being tactical, using speculation, not facts, but his delivery seemed especially harsh.
Richter picked up the plastic stir stick he'd used for his coffee, not looking at either of us. Finally, he raised his head and stared at the man who now seemed like an accuser. "What are you after, Boyd?"
Cooper said, "There've been some ugly developments in this case."
How I wished Cooper had asked Kate to come with us. No sending out a distress signal now, though. "Maybe we should tell you the most dramatic development first," I said. "Unless you already know."
"Dramatic? Would you two just get to it?" Richter said.
Cooper was sitting back, arms crossed, and he glanced over at me with raised eyebrows. "Go ahead. Tell him."
"Kent Dugan was murdered yesterday," I said.
Richter's skin immediately washed out to pasty gray. "I—I didn't know."
Anyone can lie with words, but the skin never lies. He looked like he could use a bed in the cardiac-care unit about now. Why was he so upset? I had no idea.
"We don't know how he was killed yet, but they pulled his body from Brays Bayou. You know anything about that, Mr. Richter?" Cooper asked.
Oh boy. This little interview was making me so tense my nerves might poke through my skin.
"You think I had something to do with his death?" Richter shot back. "I didn't even know the man existed until a few days ago."
Wanting to calm Richter down before I had to recall the ever-changing CPR steps, I said, "But that's one of the reasons you hired me, right? To find out who tried to kill JoLynn? That person was probably Dugan." I hoped my voice conveyed the genuine care I felt for this very odd man. Maybe Cooper thought I was playing good cop to his bad, but I was being sincere.