Leann Sweeney - Pushing Up Bluebonnets

"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.