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Thank God my sister was taking over. That damn clock coupled with a woman who made Aunt Caroline seem downright charming was about to drive me insane.

"Hmmm," Adele said. "She was Texan, I believe. Plenty of y'alls in her vocabulary. I must admit she seemed almost intelligent, however."

Finally something positive, I thought. "How did you know?" I asked.

"Books. She knew about books. Young people rarely read literary anything, but when Elliott gathered us all for my birthday, JoLynn and Simone discussed Edith Wharton over dinner, if you can imagine that. Simone has had the best possible education, but this girl? I was surprised, to say the least. But other than that, JoLynn seemed like, well, the word hick comes to mind."

Adele knew more about JoLynn than I'd thought she would. I said, "Did she ever seem nervous or concerned for her safety?"

"No," she said curtly. "She was being protected by my brother. That's what this is all about, you know. He failed her. He failed and he can't stand to fail. About time he had a lesson in fallibility."

"You're pleased JoLynn was injured?" I blurted. I blamed the blurting on the clock. Even if I could shut the thing off, I'd probably still hear it. Hell, I might not even get any sleep tonight because it would still be ticking away in my brain.

Adele squared her shoulders, color rising up her throat. "If you tell my brother that's what you've discerned from this stupid little interview, I promise you, you'll regret it. I have nothing more to say."

And she didn't, because she got up and left.

"Like mother, like daughter," I said after she was gone.

"Abby, you could have kept that last observation about JoLynn to yourself. I'm guessing Adele knows more than all the others we've talked to put together."

"I screwed up and I'm sorry. But that clock is making me slap-assed crazy."

"You mean the one on the mantel? Or the big grandfather clock by the door?" Kate said.

I stood and walked over to the fireplace, pointing at my enemy. "This thing. Can't you hear it?"

"No. You have superpowers now?" Kate said with a laugh.

Enough was enough. I gently moved the clock to get at the controls in the back, fearing I might break something. But I shouldn't have worried. It was plenty sturdy. A small lever turned the whole thing off. There. Noise gone. But when I went to slide the clock back into place, a folded piece of paper that had been taped to the bottom dislodged.

13

I turned to Kate and held up the folded paper. "Funny place to save something," I said.

Kate offered her disapproving-mother stare. "Maybe the clock was unstable and what you've removed was making it work correctly."

"There is nothing correct about that clock and the damn thing's lucky I didn't bring in the Lady Smith and put it out of its misery." I started to unfold the paper because I could tell there was printing on it, but someone knocked on the door, so I stuck it in my pocket. After I called, "Come on in," Leopold Hunt entered the room.

"Thanks for waiting around so long," I told him as I sat back down.

"No problem." Hunt sat opposite us. "Elliott's pretty upset about this whole thing with JoLynn. I'll do anything I can to help."

Hunt reminded me of our computer company's CEO. He was trim, had expertly dyed hair with just enough gray to look distinguished and wore a striped silk tie now loosened. His suit jacket had been left behind somewhere.

"What's your opinion of JoLynn?" I asked.

That seemed to throw the guy off, which was what I'd hoped. "Opinion? You think I had an opinion, Miss Rose?"

"It's Abby. Your observations? Is that a better question?"

"Well, let me think how best to describe her. Pretty. Intelligent. Cheerful, for the most part. I—I don't know what else to say."

Kate said, "Cheerful for the most part. Did you see her when she wasn't so happy?"

"We all have our days. It was nothing really." He laughed nervously.

"Are you worried about talking to us?" I said. "Because Mr. Richter wants us to find out anything and everything we can to assist the police in investigating this murder attempt."

With the mention of Richter, he started talking rapidly. "Sh-she was in here, in the library, one day. I came in to grab a book we needed for a business meeting Elliott had arranged here at the house. He sometimes does that. Anyway, she was sitting over there." He pointed at the window seat. "You can't exactly ignore someone when they're crying, so I asked her what was wrong."

"And her answer?" Kate asked.

"She said nothing was wrong, she just needed a cry. But she was wedged into the corner. She had a book clutched to her chest and—take this with a grain of salt because I know little if anything about women's emotions—she seemed extremely sad."

"When was this?" I asked.

"Maybe two months ago."

"You have no idea why she was sad?" I said.

"I couldn't even offer a guess, but she looked so lost . . . like a small, scared child."

I leaned forward. "You didn't ask her anything else?"

He squirmed, avoided my stare. "I don't recall. But I offered her my handkerchief and she refused."

"She give you any explanation?" I said.

"She asked me not to tell her grandfather. But I never would have done that anyway. Elliott and I have a business relationship and weeping relatives aren't the kind of thing we discuss. It's not like I knew the girl more than to say hello. The whole episode was very awkward— for both of us."

"Ah, awkward," I said. "Kind of like this little talk right now?"

"To be honest, yes. I have no idea what you expect from us," he said.

"You seem like a smart guy," I said. "We want to know what JoLynn shared about her past and who might have wanted to kill her. And since no one has given us any possible suspects, I guess we'll have to continue to concentrate our efforts on all of you." I smiled.

"That's ridiculous. None of us would have hurt her."

Kate said, "Who do you include in that us?"

Hunt seemed relieved to interact with my kinder, gentler sister. "Anyone in the family. Adele and me, for sure. Certainly neither Scott nor Simone. Simone is my stepdaughter and since she didn't show up—"

"Actually, she did show up," I said.

"Really? How was she?" he asked.

I was surprised by his reaction. He seemed genuinely concerned. "Pissed off," I answered.

The wrinkles on his forehead deepened. Definitely worried, but why? Of course all these people knew things they weren't saying, and Hunt was no different, but he might be a weak link in the chain of the unspoken.

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Let me apologize for Simone. She's—anyway, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about causing me any discomfort. See, I even had the roof of my mouth tattooed, so I can take whatever she or any one of you wants to dish out," I said.

Hunt's eyes widened. Guess he believed me about the tattoo.

"Abby's kidding," Kate said.

But Hunt didn't seem to hear her. Still dwelling on his stepdaughter? I wondered.

"Were there other times you and JoLynn interacted?" Kate asked. "Anything else you noticed about her mood or demeanor?"

"As I said before, I don't usually pick up on those things."

"But your stepdaughter is able to get your attention?" she said.

He hesitated, seemed to be considering how to respond. "Since you've met Simone, you must realize she gets most people's attention. As for JoLynn, she was a pleasant person who could discuss books. World affairs were another story. She didn't have much to add to those conversations. Aside from Elliott, Scott seemed the closest person to JoLynn. Have you talked to him?"