Wells looked at Scott. "You need some Dramamine, kid? 'Cause you look like you're about to toss your lunch."
"I'm fine." Scott seemed distracted, lost in his thoughts.
Wells addressed Kate then. "You work a miracle in there, Doc? She tell you what happened?"
"Sorry to disappoint you," Kate answered.
No matter how hot this guy might be, he'd never get out of the batter's box, much less to first base, with my sister. You do not make fun of Kate's job—unless you're me. I'm the only one she takes a ribbing from on that front.
"Come on, Abby. We need to get back to Aunt Caroline," Kate said. "Nice to meet you two."
She started toward the corridor and I followed. "Listen, I think Scott could be a help. Can you call me when Aunt Caroline's ready to be released and I'll head back to Methodist then?"
"Sure. But I need to get out of here. I don't like that deputy one bit."
"Gee. Who would have known?" I said.
Her fair skin colored again. "That obvious, huh?"
"He liked what he saw and was trying to be funny. You're gorgeous, after all. Men notice and that's normal."
She blinked several times and I could tell she was fighting tears. Kate needed to get over her last romantic debacle—and soon.
"I'll call." She turned, walked quickly toward the elevator and nearly slammed right into a man with steel gray hair who was coming at her at about the same swift pace.
He then rushed by me and said, "Have you got that doctor's pager number, Scott?"
Uncle Elliott, I presumed.
"I saw her. She's hurt bad." Scott's eyes filled.
Jeez. First Kate, now him.
Wells stood and offered his hand to the new arrival. "Greg Wells. Montgomery County Sheriff's Department."
"Elliott Richter. I can't thank you enough for being here to protect my granddaughter. I'm arranging for security and private nurses to start as soon as possible."
Granddaughter, huh? So she was probably Katarina's child. I noticed Scott had his cell phone out, probably to page the doctor, but before you could say Verizon, a scrubs-clad medical person came out of the ICU and noticed the phone. "No cell phones," she said sternly, then hurried down the corridor.
Scott snapped the phone shut. "I'll go to the lobby, make the page and wait for Dr. Vickers to answer." He still looked taken aback by seeing JoLynn and probably needed a break from this place.
"Thank you," Richter said.
Meanwhile, I'd been quietly inching closer to Richter and now said, "Abby Rose. I was the one who—"
"Yes," he said, looking a little surprised. "Chief Boyd told me you discovered it was our JoLynn. Thank you so much, Ms. Rose. But why are you here?" He was a handsome, distinguished man and I was betting his woven blue shirt cost as much as my entire wardrobe.
"Please, call me Abby. And I'm here because, well, after I saw JoLynn, I couldn't get her out of my head. I'm a PI specializing in adoption searches and she wrote to me last year asking for help."
Richter looked bewildered by this information. "She wrote to you?" he said.
"Yes. I recognized her handwriting from something she scribbled on my business card—the card found in her car. What is her adoption situation, by the way? She didn't elaborate in her letter."
He ignored my question, saying, "Chief Boyd merely said you were an investigator who helped him. Anyway, I thank you for everything you've done and for your continued interest, but I think we can take care of JoLynn now." Richter turned back to Deputy Wells.
I was being dismissed. But maybe not because this guy was an arrogant SOB. Nope. I've learned to read people pretty well since I started investigating, and I'd seen fear in Richter's intelligent blue eyes before he'd turned away.
I cleared my throat. "Um, Chief Boyd asked for my help and I've agreed. He's stretched pretty thin up there in Pineview."
"I can hire someone, since you seem to specialize. I already have people lined up, so one more person won't be difficult to find."
"Who will you hire? Will they care as much as my sister and I do?" I said.
"Now I'm confused," he said.
"My sister, Kate, is a psychologist and she evaluates my clients. She could be a big help when your grand daughter wakes up—and from what Kate said after visiting JoLynn a few minutes ago, she's not in a very deep coma. She'll probably need psychological support to deal with the emotional and physical trauma when she regains consciousness, wouldn't you say?"
Richter didn't speak for a few seconds. Then he smiled. "You're a good businesswoman, Abby. You've played to my weakness. I want the best money can buy for JoLynn, of course, but you can't put a price tag on commitment and caring. Perhaps we could talk later."
I handed him my card, deciding he needed time to check me out for himself. "I'm sure you want to visit JoLynn now. Call me." I nodded at Wells. "Nice to meet you."
Then I walked back to Methodist so Kate and I could take Aunt Caroline home. I'd rather have visited a little longer with Elliott Richter—for the distraction and for the mystery. I wondered if he had any ideas about who tried to kill his granddaughter—and perhaps even more important, did he know why someone would want her dead?
7
I arrived home around two p.m. with my patience in shreds, partly due to Aunt Caroline's nonstop whining on the way back to her house and partly because my stomach had been growling for the past hour. We'd finally left my aunt in the capable hands of her best friend, Martha, after we purged Aunt Caroline's refrigerator of all the ice cream, syrups and sugared drinks. We hadn't found so much as a stalk of celery during the cleanfest. Kate had agreed to do the grocery shopping, which meant she would arrive back at Aunt Caroline's with all things green and yellow. Thank God I wouldn't be there to hear my aunt's rebel yell—a sound similar to what I let loose with after I've slammed my fingers in the car door.
Diva was sitting by the answering machine when I came in the back way, tail swishing as if to say, "Where the hell have you been? People are calling and talking on this thing and you know how that annoys me."
I scratched her under her chin. "I must have food before all else, Diva."
She walked along the granite countertop and met me at the refrigerator. Guess she was hungry, too. I ate from a bowl of grapes while I found a half can of Fancy Feast and one slice of leftover pizza. After Diva was served, I ate cold pizza while listening to the single message.
"Abby, this is Scott Morton. Chief Boyd gave me your number and I was hoping to slip out and pay you a visit. My uncle hasn't told you the whole story about JoLynn. Text messaging me with directions to your office would work best."
Hmm. Interesting. One little mystery on top of another. I loved it.
Forty-five minutes and half a bag of Cheetos later, I saw Scott Morton on my security monitor screen. I let him in and we went to the living room, since the office was, well, more than messy.
After he had a Dr Pepper in hand, I took the recliner and he sat adjacent to me on the sofa. He said, "First, I wanted you to know that Uncle Elliott has people checking up on you already."
"Figured as much," I answered.
"It's not that he's sly or mean-spirited or anything. He's simply careful."
"Probably a very smart man," I said.
"True, but I think he's wasting time when you and Chief Boyd could be working on finding out who did this to JoLynn. This person might try again, right?"
"I don't see how. Sheriff's deputies, private security and private nurses would be hard to get by."
Scott chewed a thumbnail. "You're right. I worry, that's all. Anyway, you should know the story. Because wherever she was before she came to our family might have something to do with what happened to her and what might happen next."