"If you won't promise us this, then we will disappear. We must go soon anyway, get away from JoLynn. Sadly, if you speak of us to others, JoLynn's blood may be on your hands." Johnson's eyes held mine, waiting for my answer.
"On my hands?" I said. "Let me get this straight. You want me to give up on this case, let a killer go free?"
"You mean Kent Dugan's killer?" Johnson said.
"Yes," I said. "Which one of you got rid of him after he harmed JoLynn?"
"We don't kill people, Ms. Rose. We do not know who was responsible for his death. And if you promise to remain silent, you will understand why we have no interest in harming you."
He could be lying, but I didn't think so. No matter what, I'd do what was right, promise or not. "I promise. Now tell me the truth."
"I see the skepticism in your eyes, but once you hear what we have to say, I believe you will keep this secret," Johnson said. "You are a good person."
"You get a kick out of drugging and kidnapping good people?" I raised my eyebrows in inquiry.
"That was unfortunate, but we thought a warning might make you give up," Nick said. "We were wrong."
"Tell me this big secret," I said. "Because people are probably already looking for me. I'm supposed to be at the ranch."
"Estelle left a note for Mr. Richter before she went to see what was happening between you and Simone. She wrote that you wanted to see the town and since Estelle's work was done, she agreed to show you, and then perhaps the two of you would get something to eat."
"You think they'll buy that? Pretty lame, but go ahead. Talk." I no longer felt afraid. Maybe this was another form of denial, a way to feel safe while I was wearing plastic handcuffs and sitting in a shack in the woods. At least Nick left the chloroform in the car.
"First let me tell you that my brother and I came from Europe when we were young men, brought to the country by a man in Chicago who wanted us to work for him. We were jewelers by trade, like our father and his father before."
I glanced at the picture of the little jeweled owl.
Estelle noticed this and said, "JoLynn's father made that for her. He didn't want her to forget she was a wise and special girl." She looked at Johnson. "Can I show her?"
He nodded and Estelle pulled the necklace from her skirt pocket and put it in my palm. "The picture doesn't do it justice."
I stared down, bent my fingers and touched the canary eyes and the rows of tiny diamonds. "It's really . . . very beautiful," I said.
"I will continue," Johnson said. "My wife and I had only one child, our daughter, who now calls herself JoLynn. We made very little money working for this jeweler—both my brother and I in the same place. Our boss was not a nice man. Not an honest man. I was designing at night—sketching rings, pendants, bracelets—and waiting for the day when we could save enough to leave his employ, to get citizenship and go out on our own." He swallowed, seemed to be welling with emotion now.
Nick took over. "But the poor child was sick. Very sick. Her heart." He patted his chest with his palm. "She needed an operation. But when my brother told this man who brought us to America, he said we could not take her to the charity hospital for the operation. He said our visas weren't real. We were illegal. We would be deported and that meant JoLynn would never get the help she needed. Not in our country."
"Where is your country?" I asked. They sounded Russian, maybe.
"Some things are unimportant to this story," Johnson said. "You do not need to know—that way you cannot tell anyone."
"She got her operation, though," I said. "That much is certain."
"She did," Johnson said, "in another city. Not Chicago. We had to leave there."
"Because . . . ?" I said.
"Because we stole, stole for JoLynn. To save her." Johnson hung his head. "This was a bad thing done for a good reason. An American Tragedy." He looked up and met my eyes, smiled a little.
"You stole from this jeweler?" I said.
"No. We thought we could not steal from him. He would know who did this crime and why. He would send us back to our country. We would be disgraced. But we knew he bought and sold diamonds on the black market. Diamonds are very easy to smuggle. So easily hidden." Johnson paused, took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty forehead with his forearm. "We would have been better off taking the diamonds right from him. But we learned this lesson too late."
"You took them from one of his customers, someone who knew they'd been smuggled into the country?" I said.
"Yes, Abby. This is the mistake we made." I was looking at a nearly broken man and yet there was still strength in his eyes when I got past the sadness.
"What happened?" I said quietly. "Did this person you stole from come after you?"
"You have no idea. He is still after us. And he killed my wife . . . left a note on her body that JoLynn was next. He would find us and he would slit her throat for what we had done."
I felt the hairs rise on my arms. "This man was a criminal, then?"
"Yes. A career criminal," he said.
"In other words, the mob," Estelle whispered. "He didn't care about the diamonds. It was about revenge. You do not steal from the Chicago mob."
I sighed heavily. "You gave up your daughter to hide her, make sure she was away from you?"
"Yes. We learned Texas has the closed files. She would be adopted—she would have a good home, a new name. A safe place to grow up."
Oh my God, I thought. We failed her miserably.
Johnson said, "But the pull of your only child is like an ocean current, Abby. Before we left her, we told her we had someone to help us. The diamonds weren't all spent, you see. This person we paid agreed to send us messages about her."
"Someone in the CPS system knew about her? Knew about her situation?" I couldn't believe it.
"This is a country where money is more important than blood. More important than a sick child. I will not tell you his name, but only that he died from a heart attack a year ago."
I could find out who he was through Penny, but what good would that do now? "Let me guess. By the time JoLynn aged out of foster care, you began watching over her yourself."
He nodded. "She was so lost. My heart was breaking as I watched her struggle—but I couldn't watch her all the time. I asked my brother and his daughter to help me."
Nick spoke up again. "We didn't want this evil man in Chicago to find her. We had to keep our distance. We travel, take odd jobs. And keep coming back to make sure she's all right."
"Do you know what her first job was?" Johnson said. "A clerk in a jewelry store in the mall. Maybe this was her way of saying, 'Come and get me. I'm right where you think I might be.' I worry about that part of her, the part that wants to come back to us."
I closed my eyes, no longer feeling the insect stings or the tight plastic on my wrists. This information was so overwhelming, I needed time to take it all in. Could I help these people somehow? Bring their fractured family back together? I didn't know. And I also didn't know how any of this pertained to Kent Dugan's murder. I said, "Did you know that JoLynn moved in with a criminal? I'm talking about Kent Dugan, of course."
Estelle said, "We knew. One of us is always close. My uncle was very worried after he watched Dugan and surmised he was a criminal."
"Did you know he tried to kill her?"
"We knew he found her and this was a worry," Johnson said.
"How did you know?" I asked.
"Because I saw him," Estelle said. "I followed JoLynn when she left Kent Dugan, took the job with the Richters to keep tabs on her. Like Mr. Dugan, we have become quite good at creating names and backgrounds. She was pretending to be someone she wasn't and we didn't understand, but JoLynn was safe here. Or so we thought."
"When did you see Dugan?" I asked.
"Right before her crash," Estelle said. "But I didn't know he did something to her car. I learned from listening to you and the chief, to Mr. Richter's conversa tions with others. And when Mr. Richter said he wanted to
find out about JoLynn's past to help protect her, we knew we had to stop you."
"But you are very good at what you do, Abby," Johnson said. "Your e-mails from this Penny person at CPS. I was very, very worried."
"Are you saying you hacked into my system?" I felt my face heat up. How? I'm no novice when it comes to computers and thought my system was as safe as possible. But I also know it's not impossible to hack into home computers, just like it's not impossible to get into government sites.
"I see this makes you angry," Johnson said. "But I had no choice. I have learned many skills in the last eleven years, some of them from people you do not want to know about."
"You and your family drugged me, scared me, invaded my privacy and . . . and"—I held up my hands—"tied me up. That's wrong. You don't have the right to do that."
"It is wrong, yes. We do not deserve your forgiveness for these things. Our job is to keep JoLynn safe."
"But you haven't succeeded," I said, not bothering to keep my voice down. "Did it dawn on you that someone in the Richter family talked to Kent Dugan when he came around here? That Dugan offered this person information about JoLynn's recent stint as an identity thief, probably for cash?"
From the look on Joe Johnson's face, I was betting he had no idea. "What are you saying? How does this mean we haven't succeeded? Mr. Dugan died."
I said, "Mr. Dugan was murdered, probably because he failed to kill JoLynn and would probably be caught for that attempt on her life. And then he might just spill his guts to the first cop he talked to about how someone here, on this ranch, asked him to get rid of her."
Silence followed. Their turn to absorb information.
Finally Estelle said, "I saw Dugan, but never saw him talk to anyone. He hung around in the woods, watched JoLynn when she was riding. My uncle was preparing to deal with him, make sure he left her alone, but he was too late. She was injured and we were so frightened for her."
Johnson said, "The newspaper said nothing about a murder. They said Mr. Dugan was found in a bayou." He thumped his head. "I should have known we couldn't be so lucky as to have him simply die."
I realized I was hanging on to the necklace for dear life. "Why did you have this, Estelle?"
"Because you searched her room and missed this. We worried you'd come back, or the policeman would do his own search. JoLynn had hidden it in a pocket near the head of the bed."
I looked at Johnson. "You thought that somehow I or Chief Boyd could trace this necklace back to you?"
"As I said, you are a very good investigator. We didn't know what you might be able to learn from it. I have foolishly sold similar pieces when we needed money. Like a painting, some jewelry tells much about the creator. I didn't want you to track me through my work."
"This is important to JoLynn," I said. "Why not put it back where you found it, Estelle?"
Johnson said, "I see you care very much about my daughter. It's in your eyes. Please help us protect her. Please keep our secrets."
"For now, I will. But if you've lied to me and I find out you had anything to do with Kent Dugan's death, all bets are off. He wasn't a good man, but he didn't deserve to be murdered."
Johnson said, "Then all bets are on. Thank you for helping my daughter. Thank you a million times." He took out a pocketknife and cut off the cuffs. Then he handed me my gun.
30
A gun is a threat and there was no reason to threaten these people any more than they had already been threatened—by the murder of Johnson's wife, by the note left on her body, by having to live in the shadows, maybe forever. Their secrets felt heavy, their trust in me a burden. I didn't know what I would do with this information and that thought alone started eating away at my very empty stomach immediately.
By the time Estelle and I got in my car to drive back to the ranch, it was already dark. I was thirsty and hungry, but because we were supposed to be out seeing the sights and having dinner, I didn't think I'd be eating anytime soon.
"Are you sure you never saw Dugan talk to anyone in the family?" I said.
"I am certain. Since I get around to all the houses on the ranch—I'm Eva's slave and get to clean all of them— I'd be the one to see something."
"All the houses?" I said. "Who does that include?"
"You've been to Simone's place—well, her stepfather and her mother's place. Scott lives about a half mile away. He's easy to clean for, since he spends most of his time at the big house. Matthew and Piper have just torn down his old home and are rebuilding, so I don't have to clean for those snobs, thank God. Ian's on the far side of the property. He and Adele don't get along, so it's probably a good thing he's a couple miles away."
"This ranch covers two miles?" I said.
"At least," she said.
"Wow. And they make you clean all those houses by yourself?"
"Yup. But Mr. Richter pays me better than anyone I've ever worked for and Eva takes care of the big house aside from making the beds and cleaning the bathrooms. She thinks someone might break one of his crystal vases or steal him blind, I guess."
"You live in the house?"
"Yes. But not for long. I'll have to leave now. I loved being so close to my cousin, even if I couldn't tell her who I was. Mr. Richter will take good care of her—that is, if you let him. He truly loves her."
I shifted my gaze to her profile as we bumped along on the gravel road toward the ranch house. "I hope that's how this all turns out. She deserves a family." And this made me wonder why my sister hadn't called. She'd be anxious to leave for Houston. After all, clients would be at her door early tomorrow and she tried to be in bed by ten if she had to work the next day.
"My cell's in my bag," I said. "Could you check the battery?"
"Your battery is fine. I turned your phone off before we talked. Do you want me to turn it back on?"
"Um, yes, please," I said, once again annoyed at how they had completely invaded my personal space. Even though I understood their reasons, I was still irritated.
"We have to walk into the house like we've become friends," Estelle said. "Can you do that?" I heard the sound of my phone powering up.
"I don't know a damn thing about Pineview, so you better give me details. And I need to know about our imaginary dinner. Where did we eat?"
On the short drive, she told me a little about the town and we agreed that we'd stopped at the Sonic drive-in and binged on fast food and shakes. God, how I wished this were true. Then I took my cell from her. I had three messages. They were all from Kate asking me to call her. By the third one, she sounded worried, saying she didn't know where I was.
I parked the Camry alongside Cooper's truck—three other vehicles sat in the driveway, too—and as we walked toward the house, I said, "If you left a note, then why is my sister calling me and sounding so worried?"
"I don't know," whispered Estelle.
We'd reached the door and it opened before Estelle could use her key.
Cooper and Kate greeted us, relief written on my sister's face. She said, "Where have you been? Cooper has a patrol car out looking for you."
"You didn't get the note?" I forced myself not to glance Estelle's way.
They backed up so we could enter and we walked into the foyer.
"What note?" Elliott Richter called. He was in the formal living area to the left and seemed out of place in his jeans and Western shirt. Adele looked right at home, though, as did Leopold, Scott and Matthew.
Estelle spoke up, thank God. "I left a note, sir. When no one was home yet, Miss Rose mentioned she'd never seen the town. I told her I could show her around. I knew Otto and Eva would be here to fix dinner."
Richter's glance traveled around the room. "Anyone see a note?"
Lots of negative headshakes and I wondered if Estelle was lying. Maybe Johnson told her to leave a note and she forgot.
Cooper was on his cell calling off the search party and Kate was looking me up and down. "You're all sweaty, Abby . . . and look at all those mosquito
bites on your legs."
"Those skeetos are out in droves. We checked out the property, too. Walked into the woods. The ranch goes on for miles," I said.
"May I go now?" Estelle said to Richter.
"You've eaten?" he said. "Otto prepared a delicious pork roast with oven potatoes."
Estelle started to speak, but I beat her to it. "No, we haven't eaten. Guess we lost track of time." No note meant no written evidence about dinner together. And my mouth was watering at the mere mention of pork roast.
"Then follow me. You both should fix a plate." He started down the hall to the kitchen with Estelle, and I grabbed Kate's hand and told her to come, too.
"Cooper and I ate in town. Isn't it a darling little place?" she said.
"I love the town square." I kept my eyes straight ahead. No one could read my lies better than Kate.
Then I heard Cooper call, "The posse has gone back to the police station. Where y'all going?"
Kate waited for him to catch up and I was hoping his presence would distract her from asking me more questions. I sure hadn't heard a word from her yet about heading for home.
The huge professional-style kitchen had a large preparation island in the center with stools lined on one side.
Richter said, "Otto's worked hard enough today. I can probably feed you two without his help. Chief? Kate? Can I offer you anything?"
"Just water for me," Kate said. "I can get it myself if you point me to the glasses."
Soon Kate, Estelle and I had tumblers of ice water, and Cooper was helping Richter pull leftovers from the stainless steel refrigerator.
Then I noticed that Estelle, who'd taken the stool next to me, was fidgeting. I looked down and saw why. The note was on the floor. She dragged it with her shoe, then bent quickly and picked it up and slipped it into her pocket; the pocket with the necklace.
I didn't like this one bit. Lies can catch up with you in not-so-pleasant ways, but my guilty conscience was put to sleep when Elliott Richter removed my dinner from the microwave and set the plate in front of me. Herbed pork, red cabbage and golden potatoes made everything wonderful.
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