Pushing Up Bluebonnets (9 page)

  Cooper Boyd said, ''Hi, Abby. Good to see you again.'' His melancholy smile and raspy voice were more welcoming than anything offered by Elliott Richter once the topic had changed to JoLynn.

  ''Chief Boyd has something to tell you,'' Richter said. ''But can we talk in the great room? I find it rather uncomfortable in here.''

  ''Uncomfortable without JoLynn, you mean?'' I swore I was gonna get more out of this guy than perfect manners and a possessive attitude when it came to his granddaughter.

  ''Y-yes,'' he stammered. ''I suppose there is a certain emptiness in the room that I find prickly.''

  As we followed Richter back down the hall, I decided I got at least some of what I was hoping for. He was flustered by the question, but
prickly?
I don't think I'd ever heard anyone use that word other than when describing a walk through a dewberry patch.

  We went to the less-formal living area closer to the back of the house, the one with a giant stone fireplace, a distressed-leather sofa and matching club chairs. I took one of the chairs facing the sofa; Cooper sat across from me. This forced Richter to take the other chair.

  Estelle appeared without Richter summoning her. All this hovering, kind of creeped me out—and she must have been hovering, since I didn't see Richter press any magic button or ring any bells to summon her. She asked what we wanted to drink and Boyd asked for iced tea. I declined and Richter spoke a German word. Not being up on my foreign languages, I didn't understand.

  Once the drinks arrived—turned out the German word was the brand name of a beer—Richter said, ''I'd like you to tell Abby everything you've told me. I've hired her to look into JoLynn's adoption. I fear someone from JoLynn's past has committed this crime against her and since I know nothing about her family or acquaintances prior to her arrival here, it's wise to find out about them.''

  ''I agree,'' Cooper said. ''Now, here's what I've—''

  ''One more thing.'' Richter stood and started pacing in front of us. ''If by the grace of God JoLynn awakens soon, I ask that you do not discuss anything either of you have learned once you are in her presence.''

  Cooper pressed his lips together, looking pissed off. Then he took a long, slow drink of tea before carefully setting the glass on the end table next to him. ''With all respect, Mr. Richter, when that girl wakes up, I
will
be interviewing her about anything and everything. A good lawman doesn't make promises like what you're asking.''

  Even though this disagreement didn't exactly involve me, I felt my shoulders and neck muscles tense. Cooper definitely had his back up and that voice made him sound meaner than he was.

  Meanwhile, Richter's expression reminded me of someone who'd taken a slug of sour milk, and he might actually have felt that way because he grabbed up his beer from the end table and drank, perhaps to wash away the distaste of being challenged by yet another person today.

  Richter finally said, ''You're saying I can't be in the room?''

  Cooper cocked his head. ''Why do you need to be, sir?''

  ''B-because she's . . . fragile. She was that way when she came to me and this horror will only make her more vulnerable. I won't have you upsetting her.''

  ''Well, guess what? You're making me think there's something you need to convey to this girl before she answers my questions. Is that a possibility?'' Cooper's smile was long gone and his East Texas twang had grown stronger with each exchange.

  ''What's that supposed to mean?'' Richter shot back. ''Because if you think I had anything to do with JoLynn getting hurt, you'd better check your facts. I would never harm that girl.
Never
.'' Richter's face was florid with anger.

  His emotional escalation seemed to please Cooper for some reason, because his half smile had returned. ''I'm short on facts, Mr. Richter,'' he said. ''I need plenty more. It's my job to find out who did this and why. Not your job, not even Abby's job, though I do appreciate her help. We on the same page?''

  Richter had finished off the beer and set the bottle back down. He appeared more composed. ''Certainly. Now, if you would inform Abby about the automobile and show her the driver's license, that might be useful information in her research of JoLynn's past.''

  ''Sure.'' Cooper looked at me and now that he'd won the top-dog contest, he was relaxed, too. I realized he had generous laugh lines that had to have been created during another time in his life. He looked younger when he smiled, maybe forty tops.

  ''What have you got?'' I asked.

  ''It's more what I haven't got—but that tells me something. The inspection sticker and registration sticker? Both fake. Good ones, I'll admit. No record of insurance that I could find.''

  ''What about the plates?'' I asked.

  ''Never used on any automobile registered in Texas,'' Cooper said. ''I imagine someone's got an illegal source for plates, too.''

  Richter was standing in front of the fireplace, arms folded and looking concerned. ''I once asked JoLynn about that car—in fact, I offered to buy her something more accessorized than that cheap compact. But she refused, said it was the first brand-new car she'd ever bought. So I asked about helping her with insurance, since she would have to change her county of residence, but she said she'd take care of it. I'm certain any fraud was the work of the charlatan who sold her the car in the first place.''

  Cooper tried to hide his ''You've got to be kidding me'' expression, but I caught it. He said, ''No matter what the explanation, I have an untraceable car, so I can't check on Miss Richter's activities or acquaintances prior to her arrival here. We have to go down a different road—with Abby's help.'' He looked to Richter. ''You got that birth certificate we talked about?''

  ''Yes,'' he answered. ''Would you follow me?''

  I started to get up, but Cooper spread his arms along the sofa back. ''We'll wait here. Damn comfortable furniture you got, sir.''

  I eased back down in the chair.

  Richter hesitated, then finally said, ''Fine. I'll get it.'' He headed toward the long hallway with all its mysterious closed doors.

  Cooper removed a driver's license from his uniform shirt pocket and held it up. ''JoLynn left her purse when she took off that night. The address is this ranch, so I'm betting the license is fake, too. My guess? Richter will probably come up with an explanation that clears JoLynn of any wrongdoing.''

  ''Are you saying there's a possibility JoLynn isn't related to Richter?'' I said.

  ''Can't say for sure, yet,'' he answered. ''Richter says she arrived here with that birth certificate, that Katarina's name was typed in the mother slot. Father
unknown,
which is damn convenient.''

  ''Forged or not, that birth certificate might be enough for me to learn if JoLynn lied about being the granddaughter. I've come across plenty of fake certificates in the last few years and almost every forger screws up something.''

  ''Being former FBI, I'm more familiar with counterfeit money than counterfeit birth certificates,'' he said.

  But when Elliott Richter returned, he looked confused and troubled . . . and had no document or envelope in his hands.

  ''Sh-she gave it to me to put in the wall safe. That was over a year ago.''

  Even if I had barbed wire for brains, I could figure this one out. ''Let me guess,'' I said. ''It's gone.''

10

If I'd thought the disappearance of the birth certificate combined with the fake registration and inspection stickers would open Richter's eyes, make him at least a little suspicious of JoLynn, I was wrong. He simply refused to believe she had anything to with the certificate's disappearance.

  ''One of
them
took it,'' he'd said. ''They don't want her around.''

  ''One of them?'' Cooper said as we stood in a room off Richter's office where the safe was located.

  ''The precious little family. The ones who'll peck on me like carrion when I'm feeble and senile.''

  ''I see,'' Cooper answered, checking out the safe's digital lock.

  Meanwhile, I said, ''Did you give anyone else your entry code?''

  I was afraid he'd say JoLynn, but he simply shook his head, looking bewildered.

  Along with the wall safe, there were shelves filled with reams of paper, a large shredder, an IBM copier and a backup server for the computer. And an additional door besides the one we'd come through. Maybe some of the rooms were connected, or maybe Richter had an adjoining spot to store his gold bricks.

  Cooper was still examining the safe's keypad. ''No tool marks or other signs this was tampered with, but if you have the right high-tech gadget, you're in. There's also the tried-and-true method of someone standing over your shoulder and watching you punch in the numbers.'' ''No one did that,'' Richter said, his bluster back.

  ''Maybe you wrote down the code somewhere?'' I said quickly, not wanting them to start flapping at each other again.

  ''My attorney has the numbers in a sealed envelope— in case anything should happen to me.''

  ''And he'd be in big trouble if he shared that code, wouldn't he?'' Cooper said.

  ''He would be dismissed, yes,'' Richter said.

  Richter's eyes kept moving left, then right, then left.

  
Bet he's trying to think who could have possibly figured out that code.
''Memory is a strange friend,'' I said. ''Little betrayals all the time. Maybe if you sleep on it, you'll figure out how someone could have gotten those numbers.'' But I was certain that if Richter came up with a name, it wouldn't be JoLynn's. Kate always tells me denial is the most powerful defense mechanism there is and this guy was using it like he'd just won the BlindSpot Lottery. I couldn't understand why he was so hellbent on believing JoLynn.

  Cooper said, ''I've got to get back to the shack we call a police station in tiny little Pineview. Either of you get anything, call my cell.''

  Richter led the three of us to the foyer and Cooper took off after promising to keep this case his top priority.

  I turned to Richter. ''I'd like to interview the rest of the family. Can that be arranged?''

  ''With work schedules, daytime is out. Would you find a dinner meeting acceptable? Here? Tomorrow evening?''

  ''I'd prefer to speak to each one alone.''

  ''Certainly. If they're in my house, they'll cooperate. If you came to the office or went to their homes, I can't promise you their cooperation. You're free to use the library for your interviews.''

  ''I'll need to bring my sister with me. She's in on most of my initial interviews and from what you've said about your family, I might need her. She's a psychologist.''

  Richter ran a hand through his hair and smiled for the first time since lunch. ''Maybe she can cure the whole crew, make them forget about my money and concentrate on their own lives.''

  ''Let me call her, see if she's free.''

  I opened my phone and hit her speed dial. Kate an

swered, saying she was hurrying into a session but would be available tomorrow evening. Richter and I settled on a six o'clock dinnertime and then I left for Houston.

  First I drove by the crash site—Richter had given me directions. JoLynn had slammed into a live oak near the bottom of a hill and without brakes, only a miracle would have saved her. The two-hour drive stretched to three thanks to an accident, and when I passed a mangled car, I couldn't help thinking again about what JoLynn must have felt as she tried to avoid that gigantic tree.

  Once the traffic cleared, I headed straight to Jeff's place so I could have supper with him, Doris and Loreen. I let myself in with my key and found Doris watching an educational DVD on her Learning Laptop. Doris had never been to school prior to coming to live with Jeff and had lots of catching up to do. Besides Loreen, who was wonderful, we'd also found her a great tutor. We already knew Doris was high functioning, but it seemed like she picked up something new every day.

  When she saw me, she set down her computer and jumped up from her big floor pillow. She wanted her hug. How could you not love someone whose affection was so genuine? And I had come to love Doris very much.

  Loreen was in the kitchen of Jeff's spacious new condo. She had a ''life list'' now, one of those daytimeTV ideas she'd known nothing about when she'd been working as a prostitute at age sixteen. That list included learning how to cook and she was making as much progress as Doris was with her goals.

  My arm around Doris, we walked to the breakfast bar that separated the living area from the kitchen, and sat down.

  ''What's on the menu tonight?'' I asked Loreen.

  ''Grilled chicken, herbed rice and an arugula salad with toasted almonds. Jeff called, by the way. He won't be home for hours.''

  ''What else is new?'' My nose was busy sniffing out another wonderful something beneath the aroma of herbs. ''Is that bread I smell?''

  ''Almost homemade.'' Loreen brightened. ''I bought a bread machine—they're cheaper than I thought.''

  ''What kind are you baking?'' I hoped it wasn't something with fifty grains. Kate makes her own bread sometimes, but it's about as heavy as an anvil.

  ''Potato bread. Probably too many simple carbs, but it sounded good.''

  
''Simple carbs?''
I said. ''Sounds like Food Channel talk.''

  ''Yum. Potatoes,'' said Doris. ''Mashed potatoes with butter.''

  ''Butter's not good for you, Doris,'' Loreen said, her expression that of a good mother. ''Besides, the potatoes are in the bread.''

  Doris scrunched up her nose in confusion and glanced at the machine. ''Potatoes are big. How do you fit them in there?''

  Loreen smiled. ''They're mashed at the place they make the bread mix, so you
are
getting potatoes the way you like them.''

  I smiled, too. Loreen was so good for Doris and vice versa.

  We sat down to eat about twenty minutes later and the meal was scrumptious. Loreen limited Doris to two slices of the ''mashed-potato bread'' by saying that we had to save enough for Jeff. Same for the chicken and brown rice. Doris would always have a weight issue, but Loreen was determined to keep Doris as healthy as possible.