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.''
''She was adopted?'' I said.
''You know that already?''
''I figured as much. Go on.'' I leaned back in the overstuffed chair.
''My mother is quite a bit younger than her brother— that's Uncle Elliott. Anyway, he had a daughter—Katarina. I was five or six when she died. She had cancer, but before that, she'd left home for a couple years. I don't know why. Uncle Elliott never talks about it—in fact no one talks about much of anything important from the past in our family. But she
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.''
''She was adopted?'' I said.
''You know that already?''
''I figured as much. Go on.'' I leaned back in the overstuffed chair.
''My mother is quite a bit younger than her brother— that's Uncle Elliott. Anyway, he had a daughter—Katarina. I was five or six when she died. She had cancer, but before that, she'd left home for a couple years. I don't know why. Uncle Elliott never talks about it—in fact no one talks about much of anything important from the past in our family. But she
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