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"No problem, Abby. They won't let me see Aunt Caroline anyway. She's having all kinds of tests."

"You're at Methodist already?" I said.

"It's not like I had far to go," she answered.

Duh. Kate probably walked to the hospital. "Sorry, I'm not firing on all cylinders after the day I've had. I promise I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I know you will," she said, and hung up.

I closed my phone and shook my head. She sounded sad. And probably not only because of Aunt Caroline's illness. Kate's clients depended on her for answers and wisdom, and my guess was that she was putting up a good front, but that she knew it was a front—and that made her feel like a fraud. I know how her mind works.

"When's Jeffy coming?" Doris called.

I went back to the living room and sat on the chenille sofa. Doris was lying on the floor, belly down, chin supported by her fists. She paused the DVD and rolled onto her back and sat up.

"I'm not sure," I said.

"When Jeffy gets here, you stay. We can do a puzzle."

"Sorry, sweetie. I have to see my aunt. She's sick."

Doris's lower lip quivered and a big, fat tear rolled down one cheek. "Abby, I don't want you to die."

I sat next to her on the floor. This time Doris received the hug rather than giving one out. "I won't die. I promise."

She pulled away and I grabbed a tissue box from a corner table and offered it to her.

She blew her nose. "I miss Mom and Dad and Linda."

"I know. I miss my daddy, too."

"You loved your daddy, huh? You talk about him a lot."

I willed back tears. "I sure did love him."

"He taught you good stuff. He taught you to shoot. Jeffy won't let me touch his gun. Will you teach me to shoot, Abby?"

I tried not to look horrified. "No, Doris. Jeff wouldn't want that and neither do I."

"But why? Then I can help you and Jeffy because Loreen says your jobs are scary."

"We won't leave you, Doris. I promise."

She smiled. "You promise?"

"I swear."

That seemed to satisfy her and she returned to her movie. Jeff didn't arrive until the third replay of Finding Nemo, which I was ready to retitle Finding Jeffy. I'd called him several times without luck—even tried Travis Center, where Homicide Division is housed on the sixth floor, but the officer I spoke with said he was out in the field.

Finally I heard his key in the back door and Doris and I went to meet him in the kitchen. Time for Doris to dole out another bear hug.

He said, "How are my two best girls?" He was chewing Big Red and that meant he probably hadn't had the best day on the job.

"We're—"

But Doris interrupted me. "The mean lady with the white hair is gonna die and Abby's sad."

"No one is going to die, Doris." My patience was running thin. Doris had clung to me all night, unable to completely let go of her fear despite our talk. It seemed like every five minutes she paused the DVD to get my reassurance that I wouldn't leave her.

Jeff ran a hand through his short blond hair and took the Big Red pack from his pocket. But when he saw Doris eyeing the gum, he returned it without taking out a stick. He had recently spent a small fortune on dental work for his sister. Unfortunately the late Linda had allowed Doris to drink Coke and eat candy all day.

"Doris, let Abby explain, okay?" he said.

"Okay. We saved pizza for you," she said before turning abruptly and returning to her movie.

"Why didn't you call me back?" I said.

Jeff reached in his pants pocket and took out his cell. "Dead. Won't recharge. Won't do anything. I used a department phone all day. I should have called and given you the number. Now, what is Doris talking about?"

"Aunt Caroline collapsed. She's at Methodist and I promised Kate I'd join her as soon as you came." I explained what happened and how Loreen couldn't stay tonight.

"Wow. Sorry, hon." He pulled me to him. "We're working a complicated case and I couldn't leave the scene."

I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "You're forgiven. But I really have to go. Last time I checked in with Kate, Aunt Caroline was finishing up her tests and being admitted. She should be in her hospital room by now."

"Then get going." Jeff opened the trash compactor and spit out his gum before opening the pizza box.

I whispered, "Doris is pretty freaked out. She thinks if I go visit Aunt Caroline, I'll never leave the hospital alive."

"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll deal with her."

I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door and brushed his lips with mine before I left. I didn't say good-bye to Doris. She and I would both be better off without further discussion concerning the danger of hospitals.

Fifteen minutes later, I was looking for a parking spot close to Methodist. I realized I'd been on a similar hunt in the Medical Center earlier today—at Cooper Boyd's request. "Cooper. Oh no." I thunked my forehead with my palm before maneuvering into an angled spot on about the hundredth floor of the garage. I'd forgotten to call him with the JoLynn Richter information. I waited until I was off the elevator and walking toward the hospital before I dialed his number from the business card he'd given me.

He answered before the phone rang even once. "Yes." One word as intense as the man himself.

"Sorry I didn't call earlier, but we had an emergency and then I had to—"

"You got something?" he said. I could hear music in the background.

Blues, maybe? That would be about right. "I have a phone number and you'll probably want to get a professional handwriting expert to check this letter I matched to the scrawl on the card."

"Like we got a dozen graphologists around here. What's the name and address?" He cleared his throat. Maybe he had that gravel voice because of a cold or something.

"JoLynn Richter, but I must have sent her the card and my tip sheets without recording her address—she sent a self-addressed envelope. Once I send the card, folks usually call me, so I don't keep track of addresses."

A long silence followed. "Richter? You're sure?"

"If I'm not, there isn't a white tooth in Hollywood," I said.

"I'll be damned."

4

"Do you know JoLynn Richter?" I said. If so, why hadn't he recognized her in the hospital?

"I'm familiar with the family name, but I've never heard of her. Listen, I have to get out to the Richter place, see if they have a relative who's missing. Thanks."

He hung up, leaving me staring at the phone and thinking I might never hear from him again. That bothered me. I felt connected to JoLynn Richter since she'd once asked for my help, and I wanted to know more about why she'd written to me. Not your case, Abby, a voice in my head said. But it seemed to be my case, even though no one had hired me. I wanted—no, needed—to know why someone had wanted her dead.

I rode the elevator up to Aunt Caroline's floor, switching my thoughts to her. She was asleep when I walked in—it was past ten p.m.—and Kate was curled up in an armchair reading a magazine. She looked up and put a finger to her lips.

I tiptoed over to the bed. Aunt Caroline had on her own lavender nightgown. Five containers of various skin creams sat on the bedside table and her hospital pillow was encased in pink satin. Aunt Caroline must have kept Kate busy running back and forth to her house for things she simply had to have—which meant she was in better shape than when she'd left my house in an ambulance.

Kate stood and motioned toward the door.

Once we were in the hallway, she whispered, "Her blood sugar has dropped to around three hundred, thanks to the insulin. She is a diabetic."