Leann Sweeney - Pushing Up Bluebonnets

Richter quickened his pace when he saw Cooper and me and said, "Is something wrong?"

"No. JoLynn's condition is about the same," I said.

"But something's not right. I can tell by your faces," he said.

Ian gripped Richter's shoulder and squeezed. "Abby said she's no worse, Elliott. She will be all right, you know." He then stuck his hand out to Cooper. "Ian McFarland. Elliott and I had a meeting in Houston today. Ran rather late, but Elliott wanted to stop by to check on his granddaughter."

While the two shook hands, Richter honed in on me. "What's going on? Why are you here?"

"I—I planned on calling you as soon as I could. I learned that JoLynn was living in Houston right before she arrived at your ranch," I said.

"Okay . . . she had to be somewhere," he said. "What else did you learn?"

"She was living with a man named Kent Dugan and using the name Elizabeth," I said.

"So this man must know something about her past," Richter said. "Have you spoken with him?"

"Yes. He claims she told him she was adopted and not much else," Cooper said.

Richter looked back and forth between us. "But I can tell that you don't believe him. Where can I find him? I want to talk to this man."

Ian said, "Elliott, calm down, old friend. These fine, professional people are conducting their business and making progress. Whatever they learn, whatever is important, they'll inform you in due time. Officer Boyd would tell you that you shouldn't put yourself in the middle of the inquiry. Isn't that correct, Officer?"

Cooper nodded his agreement. "We've only learned within the last twenty-four hours about JoLynn's life before she came to the ranch, but there's eighteen other years we know nothing about. Mr. Dugan hasn't been as forthcoming as I'd like, but I'll deal with him."

"You think he's a liar?" Richter's throat had reddened. This was the most emotion I'd seen from him and now that I was taking his inventory, the man looked exhausted, not to mention stressed to the max.

"Please, Elliott. You're becoming overwrought. Despite your cloak-and-dagger attempts at hiding things from me, I know you've seen your physician and that can't be good." Ian looked at me. "He wouldn't want me telling you people this, but he's already had a triple bypass. This whole affair has been a little much for his ticker, I'd say."

"JoLynn had heart problems, too," I said half to myself, never thinking Richter might have no idea.

But he apparently didn't because he said, "What?" like I'd just told him Earth, like Pluto, was no longer considered a planet.

Ian shot me a glance that I interpreted to mean I was a complete and utter idiot. And he was probably right.

Cooper quickly said, "We understand her heart is fine, that she probably had surgery as a child. I take it she never mentioned this?"

"No. Never. Christ, I need to get a specialist in, I need—"

"Her neurologist already took care of that," I said. "She's in good hands, and well protected. I am so sorry I didn't phone you before we came here tonight to meet up with Dugan. My mistake."

"He's here? Right now?" Richter focused on the ICU doors.

Could I screw this up any more if I tried? This man literally needed breathing room, not more surprises.

"Dugan's gone already," Cooper said. "And I will be excluding him from the visitor list until I learn more about him. He does have an arrest record for petty crimes. Nothing serious. But the security you've hired is a good idea."

Ian said, "You've hired security, have you?"

Richter ran a hand through his hair. "Of course."

"Good thinking, but then no one could ever accuse you of anything but." Ian smiled at Richter, probably hoping to ease his friend's mind.

This seemed to work, because Richter was more com posed when he said, "Is there anything else I don't know?"

Should I tell him Dugan did not report JoLynn missing? Tell him about Roberta Messing, the friend who might come walking out through those ICU doors any second? I had to. And I did. Good thing, too, because Roberta and Jeff reappeared just as I finished. She and Jeff were arm in arm and Roberta had obviously been crying.

After introductions, Richter said to Roberta, "I understand you tried to help JoLynn while that man she lived with did nothing. I cannot thank you enough for your concern."

But this whole exchange was making me nervous, making me think about what might happen if I was to tell Richter that JoLynn's name really was Elizabeth Something and that she and Richter were not related. That would be a much tougher message to deliver than what I'd told him tonight.

Jeff left my place early Thursday morning. He wanted to eat breakfast with Doris before he went on to the Travis Center police headquarters. After we'd left Ian and Richter at the hospital last night, Cooper reminded me that he needed my help. His request? That I tail Kent Dugan, find out where he went and what he did all day.

I'd eagerly agreed, thinking this was a good idea. Jeff shrugged and offered no opinion, but I could tell he wasn't exactly enthused. On the way back to my place I asked him if he was concerned and he said, "You can handle yourself fine. I just got a bad vibe from that guy." He'd then added his third stick of gum to the wad already in his mouth and promptly changed the subject.

Since Diva didn't like getting up before seven a.m., she stayed curled in bed while I showered, then dressed in lightweight khakis and a sleeveless blouse. This could be a long day and I might have to spend time in the ninety-five-degree heat if forced to tail Dugan outside the air-conditioned comfort of my car.

I grabbed a couple of bottles of caramel Starbucks from the fridge, along with several bottles of water. I also took a box of cookies from the pantry. Cookies, I told myself, are wonderfully portable.

I'd bought a pair of camera binoculars last year and fit them into my shoulder bag along with my two phones—the computer phone and my small mobile—and the BlackBerry. I planned on getting a new all-in-one techie gadget because I love new techie stuff, but right then there was no time to even think about transferring all my files from three gadgets to one.

The condos where Dugan lived were north and west of my place and I had to fight morning rush hour. Cookies are excellent for enduring a slow ride, and half the box of chocolate-covered shortbread was gone by the time I reached the right neighborhood. It was only eight a.m.

I parked across the street and a block away from the row of white brick condos, which looked more like onestory patio homes. I always thought of condos as having two floors, but apparently I was way behind in my real estate knowledge. I made sure the Camry faced the direction of the nearest main thoroughfare. I didn't want to be doing any U-turns if he drove past me toward the freeway. I repositioned my mirrors now that his house was behind and to my left, and sat for thirty minutes. Then his front door opened.

Dugan wasn't alone. A young woman dressed in skintight cropped pants and an off-the-shoulder green shirt came out with him. She was holding a cup of coffee and followed him to the silver compact car in the driveway. She kissed him good-bye and started back to the condo.

Damn. Follow him or wait for him to drive away and catch her if she was about to leave, too? I knew what I was supposed to do, what Cooper had asked me to do, but my gut said I might not get another chance to catch this woman alone. I turned my head toward the passenger side as Kent Dugan whizzed by, then made that Uturn I thought I wouldn't have to make.

The young woman still held her cup when she answered the door, but she'd put on a thin Oriental-print silk robe over her clothes and clipped up her strawberry blond hair. Guess Dugan preferred blondes.