Pushing Up Bluebonnets

by Leann Sweeney

  ''Yes—Wyatt, right?''

  ''He's taking me out dancing tonight. That's why I brought Doris a little early. I need time to go home and get ready.'' She smiled, unable to hide her excitement. ''Any other time, but—''

  ''Oh, I understand. That's great about Wyatt.'' I was happy for Loreen. Though she'd had a rough life as a street kid, she was a quality human being who loved Doris as much as we did. But why did the first date since I'd known Loreen have to be tonight?

  ''I'm leaving,'' Loreen called, jingling her car keys.

  Doris came pounding from the direction of the kitchen, Diva clutched to her chest. When she arrived back in the foyer, she dropped the cat and wrapped her arms around Loreen, squeezing her as hard as she'd probably squeezed Diva.

  The cat was wise enough to race up the stairs while Doris wasn't looking.

  After Loreen left, I said, ''Aunt Caroline—you remember her, right?''

  Doris pouted. ''The lady with the white hair. She doesn't like me.''

  ''Who couldn't like you?'' I smiled and placed my palm on Doris's cheek. ''Anyway,'' I went on, ''Aunt Caroline's very sick in the hospital. Think maybe you and I could visit her?''

  Doris's chubby cheek grew warm under my fingers. ''Do I have to? Because when Linda went to the hospital, she never came back. I don't want us to never come back, Abby.''

  Linda had been the caretaker in Seattle, the one whose death precipitated the move that brought Doris to Houston. I said, ''You and I aren't sick. We'll just be visiting.''

  She shook her head, crossed her arms over her chest. ''Uh-uh. I don't want to. You said we'd watch Nemo and Dory. Dory's name is almost like mine and I like her a lot more than I like visiting places.''

  I'd learned that though Doris was sweet and genuine most of the time, she could also be as willful as a twoyear-old. Kate would simply have to go to the hospital alone until Jeff arrived to stay with his sister.

  After I ordered a pepperoni pizza and Cinnamon Stix, and Doris started the Finding Nemo DVD, I stepped out of the living room and called Kate to explain the situation.

  ''No problem, Abby. They won't let me see Aunt Caroline anyway. She's having all kinds of tests.''

  ''You're at Methodist already?'' I said.

  ''It's not like I had far to go,'' she answered.

  Duh. Kate probably walked to the hospital. ''Sorry, I'm not firing on all cylinders after the day I've had. I promise I'll be there as soon as I can.''

  ''I know you will,'' she said, and hung up.

  I closed my phone and shook my head. She sounded sad. And probably not only because of Aunt Caroline's illness. Kate's clients depended on her for answers and wisdom, and my guess was that she was putting up a good front, but that she knew it was a front—and that made her feel like a fraud. I know how her mind works.

  ''When's Jeffy coming?'' Doris called.

  I went back to the living room and sat on the chenille sofa. Doris was lying on the floor, belly down, chin supported by her fists. She paused the DVD and rolled onto her back and sat up.

  ''I'm not sure,'' I said.

  ''When Jeffy gets here, you stay. We can do a puzzle.''

  ''Sorry, sweetie. I have to see my aunt. She's sick.''

  Doris's lower lip quivered and a big, fat tear rolled down one cheek. ''Abby, I don't want you to die.''

  I sat next to her on the floor. This time Doris received the hug rather than giving one out. ''I won't die. I promise.''

  She pulled away and I grabbed a tissue box from a corner table and offered it to her.

  She blew her nose. ''I miss Mom and Dad and Linda.''

  ''I know. I miss my daddy, too.''

  ''You loved your daddy, huh? You talk about him a lot.''

  I willed back tears. ''I sure did love him.''

  ''He taught you good stuff. He taught you to shoot. Jeffy won't let me touch his gun. Will you teach me to shoot, Abby?''

  I tried not to look horrified. ''No, Doris. Jeff wouldn't want that and neither do I.''

  ''But why? Then I can help you and Jeffy because Loreen says your jobs are scary.''

  ''We won't leave you, Doris. I promise.''

  She smiled. ''You promise?''

  ''I swear.''

  That seemed to satisfy her and she returned to her movie. Jeff didn't arrive until the third replay of Finding Nemo, which I was ready to retitle Finding Jeffy. I'd called him several times without luck—even tried Travis Center, where Homicide Division is housed on the sixth floor, but the officer I spoke with said he was out in the field.

  Finally I heard his key in the back door and Doris and I went to meet him in the kitchen. Time for Doris to dole out another bear hug.

  He said, ''How are my two best girls?'' He was chewing Big Red and that meant he probably hadn't had the best day on the job.

  ''We're—''

  But Doris interrupted me. ''The mean lady with the white hair is gonna die and Abby's sad.''

  ''No one is going to die, Doris.'' My patience was run ning thin. Doris had clung to me all night, unable to completely let go of her fear despite our talk. It seemed like every five minutes she paused the DVD to get my reassurance that I wouldn't leave her.

  Jeff ran a hand through his short blond hair and took the Big Red pack from his pocket. But when he saw Doris eyeing the gum, he returned it without taking out a stick. He had recently spent a small fortune on dental work for his sister. Unfortunately the late Linda had allowed Doris to drink Coke and eat candy all day.

  ''Doris, let Abby explain, okay?'' he said.

  ''Okay. We saved pizza for you,'' she said before turning abruptly and returning to her movie.

  ''Why didn't you call me back?'' I said.

  Jeff reached in his pants pocket and took out his cell. ''Dead. Won't recharge. Won't do anything. I used a department phone all day. I should have called and given you the number. Now, what is Doris talking about?''

  ''Aunt Caroline collapsed. She's at Methodist and I promised Kate I'd join her as soon as you came.'' I explained what happened and how Loreen couldn't stay tonight.

  ''Wow. Sorry, hon.'' He pulled me to him. ''We're working a complicated case and I couldn't leave the scene.''

  I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ''You're forgiven. But I really have to go. Last time I checked in with Kate, Aunt Caroline was finishing up her tests and being admitted. She should be in her hospital room by now.''

  ''Then get going.'' Jeff opened the trash compactor and spit out his gum before opening the pizza box.

  I whispered, ''Doris is pretty freaked out. She thinks if I go visit Aunt Caroline, I'll never leave the hospital alive.''

  ''Thanks for the heads-up. I'll deal with her.''

  I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door and brushed his lips with mine before I left. I didn't say good-bye to Doris. She and I would both be better off without further discussion concerning the danger of hospitals.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was looking for a parking spot

  close to Methodist. I realized I'd been on a similar hunt in the Medical Center earlier today—at Cooper Boyd's request. ''Cooper. Oh no.'' I thunked my forehead with my palm before maneuvering into an angled spot on about the hundredth floor of the garage. I'd forgotten to call him with the JoLynn Richter information. I waited until I was off the elevator and walking toward the hospital before I dialed his number from the business card he'd given me.

  He answered before the phone rang even once. ''Yes.'' One word as intense as the man himself.

  ''Sorry I didn't call earlier, but we had an emergency and then I had to—''

  ''You got something?'' he said. I could hear music in the background.

  Blues, maybe? That would be about right. ''I have a phone number and you'll probably want to get a professional handwriting expert to check this letter I matched to the scrawl on the card.''

  ''Like we got a dozen graphologists around here. What's the name and address?'' He cleared his throat. Maybe he had that gravel voice because of a co
ld or something.

  ''JoLynn Richter, but I must have sent her the card and my tip sheets without recording her address—she sent a self-addressed envelope. Once I send the card, folks usually call me, so I don't keep track of addresses.''

  A long silence followed. ''Richter? You're sure?''

  ''If I'm not, there isn't a white tooth in Hollywood,'' I said.

  ''I'll be damned.''

  4

  ''Do you know JoLynn Richter?'' I said. If so, why hadn't he recognized her in the hospital?

  ''I'm familiar with the family name, but I've never heard of her. Listen, I have to get out to the Richter place, see if they have a relative who's missing. Thanks.''

  He hung up, leaving me staring at the phone and thinking I might never hear from him again. That bothered me. I felt connected to JoLynn Richter since she'd once asked for my help, and I wanted to know more about why she'd written to me. Not your case, Abby, a voice in my head said. But it seemed to be my case, even though no one had hired me. I wanted—no, needed—to know why someone had wanted her dead.

  I rode the elevator up to Aunt Caroline's floor, switching my thoughts to her. She was asleep when I walked in—it was past ten p.m.—and Kate was curled up in an armchair reading a magazine. She looked up and put a finger to her lips.

  I tiptoed over to the bed. Aunt Caroline had on her own lavender nightgown. Five containers of various skin creams sat on the bedside table and her hospital pillow was encased in pink satin. Aunt Caroline must have kept Kate busy running back and forth to her house for things she simply had to have—which meant she was in better shape than when she'd left my house in an ambulance.

  Kate stood and motioned toward the door.

  Once we were in the hallway, she whispered, ''Her blood sugar has dropped to around three hundred, thanks to the insulin. She is a diabetic.''

  ''That's what I figured. Three hundred is still high, right? During my last physical, mine was about ninety and the doc said that's normal.''

  ''Considering it was over five hundred when she got here, I'd say she's made plenty of progress,'' Kate said.

  I gasped. ''No way.''

  Kate shushed me. ''Keep your voice down. Patients are sleeping.''

  But one of them wasn't sleeping anymore, because Aunt Caroline called, ''Abigail? Is that you?''

  We both reentered her room.

  I said, ''Sorry I couldn't get here earlier, but—''

  ''Katherine took good care of me.'' She smiled at Kate as if to say at least one of her nieces cared.

  ''Since she's taken the first shift,'' I said, ''I'll stay with you tonight.''

  ''That's ridiculous. If you think I'm dying, you're sorely mistaken, Abigail. Both of you will go home and let me alone to bother the nurses all night. That's what they get paid for.''

  I said, ''But Aunt Caroline, I—''

  ''Before you go, Abby, I need to know if you called the police with that girl's name. She needs to be identified in a timely manner.''

  ''Of course I called.'' Maybe not in a timely manner, but I didn't share that piece of information.

  ''Have her people arrived, then? And if so, do they have any idea who might have done this to her?''

  Kate rescued me by saying, ''You and Abby can catch up on—what's the woman's name?''

  ''JoLynn Richter,'' I answered.

  ''Tomorrow,'' Kate said firmly.

  ''You sure you don't want me to stay?'' I said to my aunt.

  ''No. Both of you need your sleep. Especially Abigail, since she has a new case to solve.''

  Funny how ''snooping'' now seemed acceptable, probably because she'd helped me all afternoon. ''This isn't my case,'' I said. But I was protesting too emphatically.

  ''Abigail, if your daddy were here, he'd say you must think I don't have as much sense as God gave a sack of flour. This surely is your case.'' She offered her best semblance of a smile, considering her cosmetic limitations.

  I hated when she was right. ''If the chief asks, I'll be more than happy to help.''

  ''Don't I know that,'' Aunt Caroline said. ''Now, go home and leave me to harass the night staff.''

  So we left and once we were in the elevator, Kate said, ''Is she right? Do you have a new case?''

  ''You know Aunt Caroline. If the truth isn't available, she makes up her own version.'' But like my aunt, Kate can read me like a label on a can of soup at Whole Foods Market—her home away from home.

  ''She is right,'' Kate said. ''I'd like to be involved, if that's okay. I thought I'd be better off not consulting on your cases, since you've proven to be far braver than me. But I've missed the work. Dangerous or not, I want things back the way they were.'' Kate smiled and I saw the first real light in her eyes in almost a year.

  ''Good, because I always need your help. But be warned, I'm prying into a situation without an invitation. Ought to be interesting.'' I went on to tell her about Cooper's phone call and what I'd discovered with Aunt Caroline's help.

  ''Abby, they'd be foolish not to want you working on this.''

  I put my arm around Kate and squeezed her to me. ''Thanks.'' We stepped off the elevator and I said, ''What about Aunt Caroline? From what little she said, she's not exactly understanding how serious her diagnosis is.''

  ''She thinks if she cuts out chocolate and Mocha Frappuccinos, problem solved.''

  ''I feel sorry for the dietitian who gets to teach her about her new diet and the nurse who gets to show her how to give herself an insulin shot. She'll be on insulin, right?''

  ''The doctor thinks she can go on oral medicine once she's stable. Now, when can I see JoLynn? That convention I went to in Atlanta had a few sessions on therapy with head-injury patients. I'm no expert, but I did pick up a few things.''

  ''She's in a coma, Kate. I don't think she's ready for psychotherapeutic rehab.''

  ''Just anxious to get started. I'd like to see what kind of shape she's in.''

  ''Not pretty. You have anything planned for this weekend?'' I asked.

  ''Oh, sure. A speed-dating session,'' Kate said sarcastically. ''In other words, nothing besides laundry and taking care of Aunt Caroline.''

  ''And you're sure you want to help?'' I said.

  ''I'm ready as long as we don't have any role reversals—like you shrink my head while I find some dark alley where I can teach a bad guy a lesson with a Lady Smith and Wesson.''

  ''It's just called a Lady Smith.''

  ''Whatever. A gun is a gun and I don't like them,'' she said.

  ''There's a news flash. I'll meet you here tomorrow morning. We'll see Aunt Caroline first, then head over to Ben Taub.''

  ''Sounds good,'' she said.

  I pulled her to me and we hugged. ''Thanks for doing ditzy-aunt duty.''

  ''No problem. Are you parked in the garage next to the hospital?'' she asked.

  ''Yeah, up in a hole in the ozone.''

  ''I'm in my contract spot way in the other direction. Good night, Abby.''

  I found my way back to where I'd parked. The night was sticky hot and seemed to amplify the smells in the garage—the vomit, the discarded remnants of fast food, the oil leaks. No security around, or none that I'd noticed. I'm not usually bothered by being out late alone, but I felt jittery tonight. It had to do with JoLynn, of course. There are so many easier ways to murder someone than to mess with a car. Her killer wanted to make sure she knew there was nothing she could do since her brakes were gone; wanted her to know a terror like she'd probably never known before. This seemed like a rage crime to me. I've always had nightmares about dying in a car wreck, which is probably why this bothered me so much, why evil seemed to linger in the dank air. I felt relieved when I climbed behind the wheel and locked my doors.

  I arrived back home to find Jeff asleep in the recliner. Doris must have gone upstairs to one of the two guest rooms, because she was nowhere to be seen. I walked quietly past him toward my office, thinking I'd see what I could discover about the Richter family before my hospital visit tomorrow.<
br />
  But I wasn't halfway across the living room when I heard Jeff's sleepy voice. ''How's your aunt, hon?''

  I turned to him and smiled. ''As feisty as ever and probably in denial she's diabetic. But she does look a whole lot better than when she left here on a stretcher. She was all confused then and it scared me.''

  ''Diabetic, huh? How will that affect her lunches and dinners at the club? The few times we've gone there to eat with her she always has at least three glasses of wine and something chocolate for dessert.''