Leann Sweeney - Pushing Up Bluebonnets

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 his 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?"

Yup, same snobbish Adele I'd met earlier this week. But I wondered if she was the one stressed-out. She looked a little haggard, despite the perfect makeup and expensive clothes.

"Culprit, huh? Sounds way too nice for a wannabe murderer." Cooper wore a tight smile. He wasn't taking to Adele, but then who would, besides husband Leopold? He said, "The more information I get, Mrs. Hunt, the quicker I can find this culprit. You have anything to offer?" He walked over to where Joe Johnson had been sitting.