Pushing Up Bluebonnets

by Leann Sweeney

  He smiled. ''You know what he looks like, then. Maybe Jeff can get a sketch worked up. Anything else?''

  ''Oh yeah. It's all there now. He said, 'Stop digging around in her past. You don't know what you're getting into.' Since the only past I'm digging around in is JoLynn's, he certainly meant her . . . but what are we getting into?''

  Cooper cocked his head and said, ''Beats the hell out of me. Then he lays you by your car, where I'm guessing no one could see you and maybe take advantage of your altered state of consciousness. Very strange.''

  ''I like that. Altered state of consciousness. Sounds like the name of an intellectually challenging piece of artwork. Anyway, I was in the shadow of the wall and the sun had gone down. Garage lights were dim, too. No one could have seen me where he left me.''

  We went over the scenario one more time, but nothing else came back to me. Then Cooper made a call to the hospital and of course had trouble getting anyone to answer his questions about JoLynn and what was planned for her today.

  ''Guess I have to go over there and wait them out,'' he said. ''Wanna come?''

  But before I could answer, the kitchen landline rang. It was Penny. ''I have details about your comatose client, Abby. You may want to take notes.''

  ''Really? Can you hang on a sec?''

  ''Sure.''

  I placed my hand over the receiver. ''Cooper, it's the friend at CPS I told you about. She has information. I need a ride to the hospital to pick up my car, so don't leave me. Give me a minute to talk to Penny first.''

  ''Information is what we need. I want to hear everything, but I'll make myself scarce while you talk, make another cup of that green tea, if that's okay?''

  ''Go for it.'' I went to my end table drawer and took out the pad and pencil.

  ''Okay, Penny. I'm ready,'' I said.

  She had everything on JoLynn and I was glad she'd told me to take notes because there was plenty. I thanked her profusely once she'd finished, and silently vowed to get another donation check in the mail for the fostercare program.

  ''We can go, Cooper,'' I called from the foyer. I grabbed my shoulder bag from the hook on the hall tree and he met me at the front door.

  He'd found the Starbucks car cup I'd put in the sink to dry. ''Thought I'd take this to go. Green tea unclogs your arteries, or so I'm told. Maybe it's effective on brain cells, too.''

  After we climbed into Cooper's truck, I gave him directions to the scene of last night's ugliness and started telling him what Penny had told me, my notes in my lap to help me along.

  ''JoLynn, or Elizabeth, as she was called when she was in the foster-care system, came late to CPS, when she was nine years old.''

  ''That means she should remember who her parents were. Who adopted her.''

  ''Here's the thing,'' I said. ''No one adopted her. Apparently she was abandoned at the Houston bus station— not a nice place, if you've ever been there. When CPS got ahold of her, she said she didn't remember anything. Not her name, not her parents, not where she came from. Nothing. She picked the name Elizabeth for herself and aged out of the system at sixteen.''

  ''Is that unusual—her aging out and not being adopted?'' Cooper asked.

  ''She was an older child and I've heard that's a more difficult placement, but I'm not an expert in foster care. I've had a few dealings with them, that's all. Penny said JoLynn ran away from every foster home she was placed in—sometimes more than once. They'd find her at Covenant House almost every time.''

  ''The teen shelter?'' Cooper said.

  ''Yeah, anyway, there was also a medical report about her having had heart surgery, probably no more than six months before she was found. She was followed by a cardiologist through her entire stay in foster care. That may have been a factor in her never being adopted— even though she didn't require medicine and had no activity restrictions.''

  ''Did they pursue where she might have had this surgery?''

  I sighed, remembering my last big case and what I had learned about Children's Protective Services—the overextended, overworked, overpopulated system. ''Let me tell you what I know about CPS. They're not an investigative agency and neither is family court. They don't have the time or the people power to hunt down leads. Apparently the police checked Houston-area hospitals looking for anyone with her condition who might have had recent surgery, but came up with nothing. The investigation probably went no further than that.''

  Cooper's jaw tightened. ''But local law enforcement should have done something more.''

  ''Like the FBI would have?'' I cast him a cynical glance.

  ''Touche´. We wouldn't have touched her case, especially if she wasn't a kidnap victim or the media wasn't involved.'' He did cynical better than I did.

  ''Penny said the kid's picture appeared in the newspaper once and that was it. No one claimed her. They put her in foster care, where she apparently caused enough problems to be reassigned about ten times. JoLynn sounds like a girl who was lost—even to herself. She had no identity, Cooper. So she made one up.'' Sadness welled and stuck in my throat. I'd been damn lucky. Kate and I struck it rich when it came to our adoption— and not literally, even though we ended up with money. Daddy loved us . . . cherished us. And JoLynn never had that. There are probably so many kids who never get a chance to be truly loved.

  ''Her family abandoned her in a bus station?'' Cooper said. ''That's pretty cold if you ask me. But hold on. She could have been snatched, abused, then abandoned. Maybe she didn't remember anything because she blocked things out. We saw that all the time in the bureau with kidnap victims—even the adults.''

  I considered this. ''Yes . . . and with the missingpersons system as overwhelmed as it seems to be, she might have been lost in that labyrinth, too. Someone could have been looking for her since she was nine— not only since Roberta reported her missing last year. Kate needs to talk to JoLynn—if she comes out of this coma okay, that is. She could help her, Cooper.''

  ''She's a shrink, right?''

  ''A good one, too. She's helped me deal with families over and over and taught me so much about how to get people to open up.''

  ''If she's anything like you, she has to be good. You've got an investigator's brain,'' he said. ''If JoLynn was kidnapped, I might be able to find out something. Child abduction is always taken seriously. If some local law enforcement agency called us—listen to me? Us. Jeez, I'm out of there. Anyway, the FBI does have to be asked in before they can act on local kidnappings, which are usually parental abductions.''

  ''I learned that unfortunate fact from my Web surfing,'' I said. We'd pulled into the parking garage and after we wound up and around and up and around, Cooper found a spot near my Camry.

  As we got out of the truck, I said, ''Penny tells me they have photos of JoLynn for every year she was in the system. She'll be sending them to me.''

  ''Good. Then maybe we can match her up with any unsolved kidnappings. There'd be photographs, flyers, reports, if a local law-enforcement agency was involved in a possible abduction.''

  We started toward the elevator and perhaps because I was already emotional about JoLynn's situation, last night's events came roaring back in 3-D Technicolor.

  I felt like I'd been grabbed again, had that hand over my nose, was tasting the sweetness of chloroform.

  ''Abby? You okay?'' Cooper's raspy voice jerked me out of that little fugue quickly, thank God.

  ''I'm fine.'' But I was a good five feet behind him and didn't even recall stopping.

  ''Fine, huh? I'd say that suntan of yours has faded away in less than thirty seconds.'' He held out his hand to me. ''You thinking about last night?''

  I walked to him and grabbed his warm, big hand. ''Yeah. Tough girl melts under pressure. Let's get out of here and into that meat locker known as a hospital before we really do melt.''

  Finding JoLynn's neurologist in person was far less challenging than reaching him by phone. He was in the neuro ICU when we arrived, and told us that JoLynn was responding well to the reduc
tion in sedation— apparently she was still JoLynn Richter to them, probably because Elliott was paying the bill. She was far from lucid, but beginning to respond. Before he ran off to save someone else's brain, he told us her private nurse would be out shortly to take us in.

  The security guard was sitting nearby and we walked over to him. Cooper extended his hand. ''Cooper Boyd, Pineview PD. And this is Abby Rose. We're working on Miss Richter's case. You new?''

  Cooper and the fair-skinned, balding guard shook hands. The man seemed ageless, probably due to his chiseled, hard-body physique. ''Joe Johnson. I'm day shift now.''

  ''Pretty boring gig, huh?'' Cooper said. I'd been around Cooper long enough to sense a certain wariness in his expression.

  And my radar was up, too. Hadn't we been here in the daytime before? Damned if I could remember. Last night's incident might have affected my memory more than I realized.

  ''I'm a people watcher,'' Joe Johnson said. ''I like private jobs like this one.'' He smiled.

  I noticed a book under Johnson's chair, An American Tragedy by Dreiser. Heavy stuff for hospital reading.

  ''That book is a favorite of mine.'' I nodded at the floor, remembering my college days when I read literary things like that—books I'd never pick up at Barnes & Noble today. Back then, I'd been questioning my own lifestyle and wondering if I'd end up a materialistic, status-seeking American like those that Dreiser derided.

  ''Yeah. Good story.'' Joe Johnson then picked up a USA Today on the table next to him and opened it.

  Nice manners, I thought, rolling my eyes at Cooper.

  Then a woman in olive green scrubs came through the ICU double doors and introduced herself as JoLynn's nurse. Another new face, not Shelly Young, whom we'd talked to before.

  ''I'm Maxine Norman,'' she said. ''What do you want?'' She addressed only Cooper. Maybe I had ''Everyone please ignore me'' written on my forehead.

  ''Didn't the doc tell you we came to visit JoLynn Richter?'' Cooper said.

  ''He did,'' she replied. ''I disagree with him, however. You should come back in a few days. She's in no condition to be interrogated.''

  ''Isn't the doctor in charge?'' I tried to sound polite.

  Forced to acknowledge my presence, the woman had

  a stare that made me think she could make an ice cube feel feverish.

  ''Five minutes.'' Norman turned on her heel, saying, ''Follow me.''

  ''By the way, I found out a little more about the heart surgery.'' Maybe if I said something medically profound, she'd warm up a little.

  ''I don't know what you're talking about,'' Norman said.

  ''JoLynn had heart surgery, right?'' I said.

  She put her index finger to her lips. ''Keep your voice down. This is an ICU.''

  I squelched what I wanted to say, which was ''Then why are you talking loud enough to be heard in the next zip code?'' Instead, I whispered, ''The other nurse wanted to know when she had the surgery, and I found out.''

  ''And why is that important?''

  So much for making nice with a woman who probably shaved her underarms with a chain saw. ''Let's drop the subject. I wouldn't want you deducting minutes from our visit while we go around in circles.''

  She didn't respond as she directed us into JoLynn's cramped, equipment-filled room and planted herself by the door, arms crossed.

  Cooper went directly to JoLynn and I went to the other side of the bed opposite him. Her bruised face was no longer swollen except along her right jaw. Her eyes were closed and thin wires of various colors seemed to sprout from her blond hair and lead to a machine against the wall near where Cooper stood. JoLynn's IV dripped from a bag above my shoulder.

  ''May I touch her arm?'' Cooper asked Norman.

  She nodded, but even that small gesture seemed hostile.

  He gently placed a hand on JoLynn's forearm and whispered, ''JoLynn. My name is Chief Cooper Boyd from the Pineview police. Abby is here, too. You don't know us, but we want to help you.''

  She raised her eyebrows, but this seemed to hurt, because she grimaced. She didn't open her eyes but said, ''Abby?''

  ''Abby Rose. Your grandfather asked me to help you,'' I said.

  A smile played on her lips. ''Grandfather. Yes.'' Grandfather came out as granfather and her yes went on like a snake's hiss.

  Cooper said, ''Someone tampered with your car and you crashed into a tree. We want to find out who did that. Do you understand?''

  Now a wrinkle of confusion on her forehead cut through the bruises. ''Tamper . . . tamper . . . what's that?'' Every word seemed like an enormous effort.

  ''Who might want to hurt you, JoLynn?'' I said.

  Slowly she opened her eyes. Her irises were as blue as forever, but oddly unbalanced. And then I realized her left pupil was larger than the other. She turned her head ever so slightly my way and her hand reached through the side rail and found mine. She squeezed hard, those crystal eyes alive with fear. ''Stop. Please stop.''

  Then she looked at Cooper. ''Stop. Stop. I can't stop.''

  She was clearly becoming agitated and the nurse came over and told me to step aside. But before that could happen, Nurse Norman had to carefully pry JoLynn's cold, reluctant fingers from my hand.

  Meanwhile, the terrified girl kept repeating ''Stop,'' her gaze traveling from Cooper to me and back to Cooper.

  Norman said, ''This is not helping.'' She then brushed a few strands of hair off JoLynn's forehead with a tenderness I thought she was incapable of, then soothed her patient with a nearly inaudible ''Hush.''

  The cell in my pocket vibrated against my pelvic bone. Uh-oh. I tried to pretend I didn't hear the buzzing, but clearly everyone did, including JoLynn, who had closed her eyes and in her calmer, sedated slur said, ''Is that my phone?''

  I almost smiled until the wrath of Nurse Norman was fully visited on me. ''Turn that thing off,'' she whispered.

  Having been busted for illegal use of a cell phone in the hospital—not intentional, just a product of what I rationalized had to be memory loss again—I pulled the phone from my pocket. It had already gone over to voice mail and stopped quivering, but I dutifully powered it down.

  ''Sorry,'' I said.

  ''I think it's time you both left anyway,'' Norman said.

  JoLynn again reached for my hand and I put my fingers in hers, saying, ''Do you want us to stay?''

  ''Don't . . . don't go.'' But she was already drifting off, her hand going limp, her head lolling to the left.

  Cooper said, ''She obviously needs her rest. We'll be back later.''

  I didn't want to leave, since we'd gotten next to nothing, but he was right. JoLynn was only beginning to come around. She had smiled when I mentioned her grandfather, though, and seemed happy simply saying the word.

  When we emerged from the ICU, Elliott Richter was standing in the waiting area, while Simone was slumped in a chair fiddling with a small camera. A tense-looking Adele stood by her brother. Simone was dressed like she'd just come from a rock concert in her wide-legged cropped cargo pants and black T-shirt, whereas Adele had the Ann Taylor thing going.

  Richter greeted us, introduced Simone and Adele to Cooper, then said, ''How is she?''

  ''A lot better,'' Cooper said.

  Richter's face relaxed into a genuine smile. ''Good. That's very good. Did she say anything?''

  ''A few words. She seems a little frightened, but then, waking up in a hospital has to be scary.'' Cooper scanned the waiting area. ''Security is more important than ever now that she's coming around, so where's your man? You send him on break?''

  Gosh. Joe Johnson had disappeared. Guess I'd been too distracted by Simone taking pictures of the waiting room, the double ICU doors and all of us, the repeated snicking and flashing of her camera finally irritating Adele enough that she'd mouthed ''Stop it.''

  Richter said, ''A staff member told us you were with JoLynn. I assumed you sent the guard on a break.''

  ''I didn't send him anywhere,'' Cooper said. ''Can you call h
is agency and have him paged to get back up here? Or I could stay until he shows up.''

  ''I appreciate the offer, Chief Boyd, but I'm paying him damn good money to be here. And he's not where he's supposed to be.'' Richter took out his cell phone. ''Excuse me while I find somewhere to make a call.'' He strode off down the hall, anger evident in every step.

  ''Guess we'll wait.'' Cooper smiled politely at Adele.

  Her expression didn't change. ''My brother has been very stressed by this . . . incident. What time frame do you have for bringing the culprit to justice?''