"Did you say stir-fry?" I was hungry, despite the recent high intake of butter and sugar.
Kate stood and so did Cooper. He said, "Kate and I cooked—she said you'd be fine with me bumbling around in your kitchen. We saved some for you."
"Vegetarian?" I said warily. Tofu is not my idea of a happy protein.
"We made a batch with chicken and one without," Kate said.
"While we heat it up, tell us about this lead," Cooper said.
I glanced at Jeff and asked if he wanted to be in on this conversation.
"We can hear what you're saying from here," he said. "Doris might beat me to the punch and finish this puzzle."
"Is there punch?" Doris said. "With ginger ale and orange juice?"
"Not that kind of punch," Jeff said. He began to explain.
Meanwhile, Aunt Caroline sat on one of the barstools at the counter separating the kitchen prep area from the dining area. Seems she was keeping as close to Cooper as possible. "What's this clue?"
I said, "JoLynn had a piece of jewelry with her the night Shauna Anthony picked her up from the bus station. I guess it was pretty unusual."
"Unusual how?" Cooper held out a plate and Kate spooned on a mound of chicken teriyaki and brown rice. She knows I'm a white-food fan, but I was famished and not about to complain.
"We'll find out after I eat," I said. "We've had a photo of this necklace since I got the foster-care file."
The teriyaki turned out to be better than any takeout and I silently credited this to Cooper's touch. He probably added enough of another white food on Kate's banned list—salt.
After I put my plate in the dishwasher, I went to my office and pulled up JoLynn's foster-care photo file. I enlarged a few shots of the necklace that appeared around her neck in not one but every single picture.
Some of the photos couldn't be sharpened, but I finally ended up with a pretty decent close-up of the owl jewelry. Shauna never mentioned the owl eyes were tiny jewels and that rhinestones outlined the pages of the open book the owl perched on.
When I emerged from my office, Doris's attention was now on a DVD playing—The Little Mermaid. Everyone else was still in the kitchen and Aunt Caroline's small cream leather bag was slung on her arm. She was getting ready to leave. I hoped this picture didn't renew her interest in the case and make her hang around. I was tired and might say something I'd regret should she stick her nose in my business.
"Here's what Shauna described." I handed the picture to Cooper.
Aunt Caroline set her bag on a barstool and peered around his shoulder. Kate flanked him on the other side.
"Was she wearing that necklace when she was pulled from the wreck?" I asked Cooper.
"No way. I went through all the belongings the paramedics bagged, hoping to ID her. I would have remembered this," he said.
Cooper handed the photo to Jeff. As he looked at it, Jeff said, "Why didn't she have any ID, Coop? Seems strange to take off without anything. You found her license later at the ranch, right?"
"Yeah . . . in her purse," he said. "We found out this afternoon that Dugan called her the night of the crash, scared her. She drove off in a panic and I'm guessing that's exactly what he wanted."
"I don't doubt it for a minute," I said.
"The phone company finally sent me the records this afternoon and I have a stack to go through. Since we now know he called, we can see if the phone number on the incoming call right before the crash appears on the records earlier. JoLynn claims she never talked to him before that night, but maybe someone else in the family did."
"The family members all have their own phones, Cooper," I said.
"True, but guess who pays the bills? Elliott Richter. I've got everyone's records."
Just then Aunt Caroline tapped the printout of the necklace. "I can tell you what this necklace means to me."
"Yes, Aunt Caroline?" I said politely. But I was wondering why she always had to be the center of attention.
"This is probably custom-made. Very intricate, very detailed. If your JoLynn was some street urchin, where did she get something like this?"
We were all stone silent for a second. If anyone knew about jewelry, it was Aunt Caroline. I finally said those words she always loved to hear. "Good question."
"I know," she said with a smug smile. She then held out her right hand to show off her ruby and diamond ring. "This was designed for me. In fact most of my important pieces are custom-made. I once had a good friend who showed me how jewelry like this is created. Believe me, this precious little owl didn't come from any store."
"You are a fountain of knowledge," Cooper said.
Don't encourage her, I wanted to say. But she was off and running and she did hold everyone's attention. She said, "Since these owl eyes have to be canary diamonds— I can tell by the color—I'm certain the other stones are diamonds as well. Too bad they're small because they'd sparkle so much more with added facets."
Aunt Caroline went on, but finally tired after a fifteenminute lecture on handcrafted jewelry. I could see the fatigue in her eyes.
Once again she was ready to leave, but Kate stopped her, saying, "Please check your blood sugar first? For Abby and me? We don't want you driving into any trees."
But she complied only after Cooper nodded and said, "Kate, that's a great idea."
Kate, Cooper and I arrived at the hospital on Sunday morning around noon. Last night we'd all agreed JoLynn needed to come clean abut her past. It seemed like the only way to protect her while we continued to follow leads like the necklace and the phone records.
We discovered most of the Richter family at Ben Taub. Matthew and Piper were hanging around near the elevators and offered snooty hellos when we passed them. Adele and Leopold were waiting outside JoLynn's room along with strongman Henry. Their greetings were warmer, but not by much. We found Ian and Richter visiting JoLynn and they actually seemed happy to see us. No Scott or Simone. There wouldn't have been room for them anyway. I was betting Ben Taub wanted this family out of here as much as Elliott Richter wanted JoLynn transferred out. Probably a very demanding clan.
The picture of the necklace was folded in my bag and I'd also brought along the sketch artist's work as well as Simone's photo of the fake security guard, which Adele had sent to my computer. JoLynn's bed was rolled up to a sitting position and though she looked tired, her features weren't drawn with pain like yesterday. She wore a cotton nightgown with tiny peach flowers and a ribbon woven through the neckline. My guess was this came from Adele.
Cooper said, "Would you mind if we talked with Jo Lynn for a few minutes? It's pretty crowded with more than three visitors."
Ian was leaning against the window, but he straightened and said, "Certainly, Officer" in his pleasant British accent.
Richter seemed more reluctant to leave, but Ian managed to steer him into the hall. Cooper closed the door after them.
Kate gestured to the lone chair by JoLynn's bed and said, "Abby. Your turn to sit today."
JoLynn smiled and said, "Cramped, isn't it?"
"Can't stir us with a stick." I sat and looked at Cooper, who stood beside Kate at the end of the bed.
I started off, saying, "Has your grandfather told you that he wants to find out about your past?"
JoLynn's eyes gave her away. She was suddenly on high alert. "Not really. But he knows I lied. I told him all about being in foster care and I mentioned that I got in trouble a few times, but—"
"I'm not talking about foster care," I said quietly. "I'm talking about before foster care."
She licked her lips. "I don't understand."
"We need to know about your early childhood, before someone left you in a bus station one rainy night. You were nine. You knew who left you there, but you never told anyone. Now's the time, JoLynn."
Kate slowly made her way around to the other side of the bed and picked up JoLynn's hand, held it tightly. "This is important. A man died Friday. You nearly died."
She stared
straight ahead, her face vacant, her voice toneless when she said, "I don't remember."
This was the face Shauna Anthony probably saw when she'd questioned JoLynn. And I was certain she'd repeated those three words many times from age nine until today.
I reached into my bag and took out the picture of the necklace and held it up in front of her so she couldn't avoid looking at it. Working hard to be as patient as Kate managed to be, I said, "Do you remember this?"
I saw her eyes widen a little; then the blank stare returned. "Never saw it before."
Now she was outright lying. "Funny thing, because you wore this necklace in every picture they took of you while you were in the CPS system. You had it with you the night Officer Shauna Anthony picked you up, the night you were soggy and scared and alone in the bus station."
"Okay, it was mine. So what?" JoLynn's less-thansweet side was coming out. But there was more than anger. The fear in her eyes was back.
"We want to help you," I said. "Your grandfather wants to protect you. We can't do that unless we know the truth."
"He's not my grandfather. He was a mark. I conned him and he can press charges if he wants." She pulled free of Kate and crossed her arms over her chest, raising her chin in defiance.
Cooper said, "Nice act, JoLynn. But you're not fooling anyone. You're scared shitless."
She blinked rapidly, fighting to maintain her composure, fighting the hurt and the anger. "What more do you need to know? I was a worthless bag of dirt and my parents dumped me."
I thought Kate might cry the tears JoLynn seemed incapable of shedding. But she didn't. "Who were your parents, JoLynn?" she said. "What's your real name?"
"I don't remember," came the robotic reply.
I took out the sketch-artist copy and laid it on her lap. "Do you know this man?"
She cocked her head one way and then the other as she stared down at the face. "I—I . . . no," she said, finally making eye contact with me again. "But that's a police sketch. Did he kill Kent?"
This time, she wasn't acting. Unlike when she first saw the necklace photo, there wasn't even a hint of recognition in her expression now.
"We don't know if he's the killer," Cooper said.
I added the picture of the security guard. "What about this guy?"
She blinked. Did I see a flicker of recognition before she closed her eyes?
But she said, "I don't know him, either."
I placed the jeweled-owl picture on top of the police sketch. "Let's get back to this, then. Who gave this to you?"
"I don't remember," she said.
I've been called stubborn as a two-headed mule all my life, but this girl had me beat. At least today.
Kate looked at me and said, "Abby, why don't we give JoLynn time to think about all this?"
But, no surprise, Cooper wasn't ready to give up. "We found pictures of you bringing flowers to the Richter plot at Glenwood Cemetery. You know anything about that?"
"What?" JoLynn seemed downright confused now.
"And guess where we found them? At your old boyfriend's place," Cooper said. "Did you know he had those?"
"Are you saying he was following me before he tried to kill me? And he followed me there?" Patches of color had appeared on her pale cheeks. She seemed embarrassed and upset that her private moments had been captured.
Now I was the one who was confused.
"We aren't sure he took those pictures," Cooper said. "But they were in a folder in his office. We need your help, JoLynn. Please?"
I only vaguely heard her say, "But I don't remember anything," because I was considering who, besides Kent Dugan, might have taken those pictures.
All I could think about was a girl with a camera—a camera she loved to use.
28
We left JoLynn with her doting surrogate grandfather a few minutes later. The less-than-doting family members bombarded us with questions outside JoLynn's room. They wanted to know what we learned and if we were ready to close the case. We didn't inform them JoLynn was not related to the Richters as per Elliott Richter's request. That left little for us to talk about to folks who would have been overjoyed to learn she was an even bigger liar than they thought. I hated to think of JoLynn that way, but it was true.
While I was left bursting to tell Cooper and Kate my idea that Simone might have taken those pictures, Cooper fielded their questions with expert efficiency. He managed to tell them absolutely nothing—a technique I vowed to get better at. This left Matthew and Piper sulking and Adele, Leopold and Ian wondering what the hell was going on. Then we beat a hasty retreat.
I mentioned Simone and my picture theory on the walk to Kate's car.
"You're saying this teenager took the pictures and then somehow Dugan got ahold of them?"
"It's possible," I said. "What we don't know is how he got them."
Cooper said, "We have nothing except her possession of a camera to support your theory. Pretty thin, Abby."
"Don't you think we should investigate the possibility?" I said. "Simone could have followed JoLynn around. I saw her in action and believe me, she's capable of doing that."
"Even followed JoLynn to that cemetery? Can the girl drive?" he said.
Kate laughed. "How old do you think Simone is? Twelve?"
"But why would Simone follow her there?" he said.
"Seems like the kind of thing she does," I said.
"Okay. I give. But I'll let you handle this one. I've got a pile of phone records to examine. That seems like a less-theoretical way to make a connection between family members and Dugan."
Bet the phone company loved his constant nagging, I thought. Plus now he had to wait on whatever HPD could recover from Dugan's soggy cell phone. Obviously Cooper wanted to rely on hard evidence, not my theory about a girl and a camera. But my bet was on Simone.
So when we got to my place and Cooper said he needed to head back to Pineview, I said I'd follow him. Besides talking to Simone, I wanted to search JoLynn's room once more—but now I knew what I was looking for. That necklace.
Cooper shrugged and said to come along. But after he came downstairs with his bag, and Kate and I met him in the foyer, he said, "You heading to Pineview with Abby, Kate? Or do you have plans for this hot Sunday afternoon?"
"No plans," she said.
"Want to ride with me?" he asked.
She gave him a warm smile. "I would love to, Cooper."
The drive took far longer than I anticipated thanks to lots of Sunday traffic heading to The Woodlands Mall and Lake Conroe. On the way, I called Richter and told him I wanted to search JoLynn's room again. He told me he was coming back to Pineview as well, but was probably behind us. Then he abruptly hung up.
Huh? And then I realized he wasn't alone in the car and didn't want whoever was with him to know I was calling. I turned my full attention to Cooper's truck up ahead.
When we reached the ranch and stopped on the curving drive in front of the house, Cooper got out while Kate stayed put.
I rolled down my window.
He said, "Kate asked to see the police station. I'll drop her off back here in, say, an hour? Is that long enough to talk to Simone?"
I smiled. "Sure. You might even take Kate out to dinner. I'm sure you know all the healthy places in Pineview."
He grinned back. "Great idea."
Then the two of them took off, the dust of our dry summer in their wake.
I got out of the Camry, went to the door and knocked. The younger housekeeper, Estelle, answered. She looked surprised.
"Hello, Ms. Rose. Mr. Richter isn't home at this time."
"We've spoken. He's on his way back from the hospital but gave me permission to reexamine JoLynn's room. But first," I said, "if you could direct me to where Simone lives, that would be great. I understand she and her mother and stepfather live on the property?"
Estelle pointed left, where the drive wound behind the barn. "You take that road. It travels around the edge of the property. Mr. and Mr
s. Hunt live in the very first house you'll come to, a stone house set back in the woods."
"Thanks. Mr. Richter might be home by the time I return." I started for my car.
Estelle called, "Would you like me to call, see if Simone is there? She could be out."
"No. I'd like to drive around the property anyway. Beautiful place, Magnolia Ranch. If she's not home, I'll come right back here." Showing up unannounced might give me an advantage, especially if Simone was hiding the fact that she'd followed JoLynn around, taken pictures and then somehow hooked up with the charming, good-looking Kent Dugan—a man who liked young, naive women.
Cement gave way to gravel as soon as I reached the barn and the Camry crunched along for about a half mile. To my left, I saw horses in a rolling pasture that was growing brown from lack of rain. On my right, woods filled with pines, maples and oaks shaded the bumpy road. I came upon a fieldstone two-story house with a green slate roof, though I nearly missed the place, since it was set back so far from the road.
I thought about parking in the narrow driveway, but a red Corvette already occupied the spot closest to the door. And if Adele and Leopold came home, they might be annoyed if they had nowhere to park. I pulled over onto the small stone shoulder.
I wanted to surprise Simone and got my wish.
When she opened the door, she said, "What are you doing here?" Her crazy hair was bound into a ponytail on top of her head. She wore a Coldplay T-shirt nearly hiding her cutoff jean shorts.
"You mind if I come in?" I said.
She shrugged and opened the door wider. "Whatever. But I'm pretty busy. And the parents aren't home."
"I came to see you," I said.
She sprinted up the stairs before I was even inside, and yelled over rock music coming from above for me to follow her. As I went after her, I caught a glimpse of an elegant formal living room off the marble foyer. It was filled with the kind of furniture Aunt Caroline likes. Nothing comfortable, everything pretty.
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