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The deputy must be here for JoLynn, too. I smiled at him, but he didn't react. I stopped a nurse assistant about to enter the ICU and said, "We'd like to visit JoLynn Richter for a few minutes. I'm working with Chief Boyd on her case." Not completely true, but how would she know?

The woman thumbed at the deputy. "Ask him." She then entered the unit without another word.

Kate and I turned and walked over to the deputy, who had picked up a People magazine and was paging through it.

"Hi," I said as I approached with Kate on my heels. "I was the one who identified Miss Richter and I'm working with Chief Boyd on this case. I'm a private investigator." I handed him a card.

His name badge read DEPUTY WELLS and though I was the one talking, his gaze was on Kate as he stood.

The man was built, not to mention hot. And tall enough I'd need a stepladder to look him in the eye. He said, "Funny, Coop didn't mention you when he asked for county help to protect JoLynn Richter. I'm Greg Wells, by the way. Who's your friend?" He smiled down at Kate.

I could almost feel the heat of Kate's blush. "Dr. Kate Rose. I've had a little experience with head-trauma victims and am here to evaluate her."

Nice little twisting of the truth, I thought. Kate might be getting back to her old self after all.

"I think Miss Richter has a bunch of doctors already." The deputy looked back and forth between us. "I take it you two are related?"

"Sisters. And I'm not a medical doctor," she answered. "I'm a clinical psychologist."

"Last time I looked in her room, the girl was in a damn coma. How do you work with sleeping people?"

"That's not why we've come, Deputy Wells," I said. "My sister—"

"Excuse me," said the other guy who'd been sitting in the waiting room. He was now standing behind Kate. "I couldn't help but overhear. JoLynn is my cousin."

Wells looked at him, obviously surprised. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I had no idea you were here for JoLynn," he answered. "The police think she's still in danger, then?"

"We're taking precautions," he replied.

Compared to Wells, the new guy was so skinny he could lie under a clothesline and not get a sunburn. Not bad looking, though. Baby face, hazel eyes dotted with gold, and plenty of highlighted hair—unlike Wells, whose receding hairline reminded me of low tide. The cousin's designer polo shirt was coral, his khakis were unwrinkled and he smelled very metrosexually nice.

"What's your name?" Wells asked him.

"Scott Morton. My mother is Uncle Elliott's sister. I promised my uncle I'd stay here until he could get free." He looked at me. "Uncle Elliott never mentioned any investigator to me, either."

"Chief Boyd probably didn't have a chance to tell anyone," I said quickly.

Wells smiled. "Why don't we clear this up? I'll call up Coop and ask him about all three of you."

6

My stomach fluttered as Wells made the call. Oh, what a tangled web and all that crap. But after Wells told him who was waiting in line to see JoLynn, he listened for a second before handing the phone to me. "He wants to talk to you."

"Why are you at the hospital, Abby?" Cooper asked. Seriously, the guy ought to get his obviously stressed vocal cords checked.

"Can't help myself," I answered. "I'm a sucker for anyone who's written to me for help."

"Pro bono?" he said.

"If that's what I need to do, yes," I answered.

"I called a friend at HPD and he says you're smart and know your way around a whodunit. I have to admit I could use someone like you."

"Why, Cooper Boyd. I'll bet you're not afraid to ask for directions, either."

He laughed and said, "I'm not sure how visiting a comatose woman can help solve an attempted murder, though."

I told him how Kate and I work together, that she'd had training in the psychological aspects of brain injury and wanted to evaluate JoLynn for herself.

"I'm up for anything, so go for it," he said. "I'll tell Wells you're good to visit. He tells me Scotty is there, too."

"Um . . . yes. But you sound amused." I fought the urge to look over at Scott Morton.

"Nerdy kid but nice. He came with the bail money for Matthew, Richter's son, one time last year. I've been told Matt used to be a regular visitor to our local facility—local facility meaning jail. Drinking and public lewdness—which translates to pissing on the main street in Pineview. Anyway, his father sent him to rehab. He sobered up and got married."

"I see. Interesting," I said.

"Scott standing right there, huh?"

"You got it."

"Take him in there with you. If by chance her condition has an effect on him, I'd like a report on his reaction. Hell, I'd like a report on anyone's reaction. Richter was cold as stone when I told him about JoLynn. 'Course, I've met him a few times at town events and that's the way he always seems."

"Should I hand you back to the deputy?"

"Yes. And thanks, Abby."

"No problem." I gave Wells the phone and looked at Scott and Kate. "We can go in, but I'm guessing only if and when the staff gives the okay."

That okay didn't come for a half hour and then we were told we had five minutes max.

Kate went straight to JoLynn's bedside, but Scott hung back, as pallid as if he'd had a visit from Dracula on the way in here.

"My God," he whispered.

JoLynn's bruises were changing to the icky stage—all blotchy with yellow and brown beginning to taint the purple and black.

"Pretty nasty, huh?" I said quietly.

"Who would do that to her? She's the sweetest person on earth," he said.

I gauged his reaction as Boyd had asked me to do and the words authentic shock came to mind. But that didn't mean he hadn't engineered the murder attempt—it meant only that he hadn't realized the human toll taken after a person experiences a powerful impact with a large immovable object.

"How are you two related again?" I asked.

"She's my cousin."

"You two grow up together?" I probed.

"No. She's only been back with us for about a year."

"I don't understand," I said.

"I'll leave the explanations to Uncle Elliott. What matters is that she recovers." He walked over to Kate's side and picked up JoLynn's hand.

I followed, looked at my sister. "What do you think?" I asked.

"She responded to painful stimuli when I pinched her arm. Moaned a little when I whispered in her ear. She's not in a deep coma."

"That's good news, right?" Scott said.

"As I said in the waiting room," Kate replied, "I'm not a medical doctor. You should talk to her physician."

"I did," Scott said. "He said I'm not next of kin and he's waiting for Uncle Elliott to arrive to report on her condition."

"And when do you expect Uncle Elliott?" I asked.

"I thought he'd already be here. We're the only two who—" He pursed his lips, looked down at his shiny loafers. "He'll be here soon."

Family issues? I wondered. According to what I'd already learned, there was plenty of family. "You certainly got here quickly," I said with a smile, hoping he'd open up a little more.

"I didn't want her to be alone. I wish they'd let me sit with her so I can be here when she wakes up, but the answer to that request was an emphatic no. But she will wake up." His lips tightened but not before I saw them quiver.

Scott seemed like a supersensitive guy. But maybe his concern was an act.

A nurse opened the door, interrupting my thoughts. "Your time is up," she said softly.

He squeezed JoLynn's hand before letting go and I noticed her forehead crease ever so slightly. Seconds later the three of us rejoined Deputy Wells in the waiting room.