Pushing Up Bluebonnets

He went on, saying, 'Yellow Rose Investigations, right?'

I hate nothing more than smugness and he was full of himself now. But I smiled when I said, 'As my daddy would have said, you're sharper than a pocketful of toothpicks, Kent. You have a computer and actually know how to get on the Internet. I'm so impressed.'

'Not hard to find out stuff about a superstar like you,' he said.

Since I'd seen no computer in my pass-through with Georgeanne, I was guessing it wasn't visible from the angle I'd had into the locked room. 'I'm sure you've learned plenty more about me. What does that have to do with your wife . . . excuse me, your un-wife?'

'Do they teach that in detective school, Abby? How to never answer questions?'

'Did you try to kill Elizabeth, Kent?' Maybe the direct approach was best, especially since I felt so uncomfortable. I didn't like the way he kept using my name. Maybe familiarity does breed contempt and it's an immediate birth.

'You've been talking to Roberta too much, Abby. To answer your question, I didn't have a clue where Elizabeth went, so I sure as hell couldn't have tried to kill her. Now it's your turn. Did you find out about Elizabeth's past? Is that your connection to her?'

'I'm not telling you anything.' But despite how much I disliked Kent, maybe I had let Roberta's assessment color my thinking. He could be telling the truth, at least about the murder attempt.

He stood, came closer. 'I've got you wondering—and that says a lot about you, Abby. You're thinking about giving me the benefit of the doubt and I appreciate that. Your eyes are intelligent. No secrets there. Very nice eyes.'

Was this how he charmed people? With his acting skills? Or was he being sincere? The fact that he was a check forger and a thief was enough to tip the scales. Jeff was right. I needed to be careful around this guy. 'I'll be going now. Sorry about our little set-to outside.' I could keep my enemies close, too.

As I left, he called after me, 'Don't be following me around after this, brown eyes. It would be a waste of time.'

I walked to my car, making an effort not to sprint, because hell, I wanted to. I started the ignition, mentally running through a list of unkind words directed mostly at myself—ones like dufus and damn fool. I should have researched this guy before I ever got in the Camry this morning for the ride over here. Man, did I screw up today.

I waited until I returned home to call Cooper and tell him the whole story, including how I'd messed up and alerted Dugan about a tail.

'Don't beat yourself up, Abby. You learned some important information. We figured Dugan for a liar and we were right. How far the lies go is the question,' he said.

Pacing in the kitchen, Diva winding between my legs, I said, 'Do you believe he knew where JoLynn was and, like stalkers sometimes do, decided to kill her—maybe simply because she left him?'

'It's a thought. Or maybe he was afraid of what she knew about his 'consulting' business, what she might spit out one day that could bring him down. That guy is smart and the smart ones worry me. No more tails. Keep your distance.'

'No problem there. Besides, he'll be looking for me now and I'm sorry about that.'

'You followed your gut and no detective should apologize for that. With this guy's background, I'm guessing the laminator and high-end printer are part of an ID shop. HPD forgery division might be interested in following up on what you saw through that window.'

'ID shop? Could that be where JoLynn's fake ID came from?' Thank God I could still put two and two together.

'You got it. But a crook like Dugan wouldn't have expensive equipment for a small operation. He could be raking in lots of money supplying documents for illegals or identity thieves. That fake driver's license of JoLynn's was top-notch. The hologram was nearly perfect.'

'But that might mean she was in on this ID shop. Maybe Richter's relatives are right—she did come to the ranch to scam Elliott Richter out of his money.' And if Richter found out, I thought, maybe he had that car fixed up to get rid of JoLynn.

'I know what you're thinking, Abby. But Richter had plenty more options than to kill a scammer. Like coming straight to me. Or sending JoLynn packing.'

'True,' I said, still trying to make sense of this. 'We don't know enough, do we?'

'No,' he said. 'Let me bug the forensics people about any more evidence from that smashed-up car, alert HPD to Kent Dugan's so-called job, and then we'll see where we stand.'

We said good-bye and I hung up. But I kept pacing, trying to think this through until the phone still in my hand jangled and startled me. It was Kate.

'Sorry, Abby, but I need your help—and I know you won't like the request.'

'Have I ever turned down a request from you?'

'It's Aunt Caroline. I made arrangements for her to join the diabetic support group on a trip through the grocery store today. The dietitian will be teaching her and a few other newly diagnosed diabetics about their food choices and how to shop for the right foods.'

I instantly regretted my eagerness to help. 'And you want me to go with her?'

'I planned to take her during a break in my schedule, but two patients called for emergency appointments. I had to fit them in. Can you pick her up about twelve forty-five?'

I tried to sound cheerful when I said, 'Sure. No problem. Where do I take her?'

Kate told me and when I hung up, I looked down at Diva and said, 'This day is unraveling faster than that sweater I tried to knit for my seventh-grade boyfriend.'

19

On the drive to the grocery store, Aunt Caroline was as edgy as a hungry coyote, fidgeting, snapping at me, telling me my driving was atrocious—which it was not. Just getting her out of her house and into my Camry took plenty of persuading and when we pulled into the Kroger parking lot, I was afraid she might balk again.

But with a 'Let's get this silly exercise over with,' she ignored my extended hand to help her out of the car, got out and strode ahead of me, her Prada handbag swinging on her arm. Maybe they'd give out a 'bestdressed- diabetic-on-tour award' after this meeting ended and make her happy.

A checker directed us to the in-store coffee shop. We were running late thanks to Aunt Caroline's earlier stalling, so if she'd hoped to be the center of attention here, she got her wish.

A lean, dark-haired woman smiled broadly when we took our places at one of the small round tables. The woman was the only one standing and I assumed she was in charge.

'You must be Caroline. And who have we brought with us to help today?' she asked.

'I have brought my niece Abigail, and perhaps you are woefully misinformed, young woman, but a plural pronoun to describe a solitary person is very condescending. Exactly who are you, anyway?' Aunt Caroline said.

I cringed, wanting to crawl under the table. No one did imperious better than my aunt.

The woman didn't even blink. 'I'm Judith, the dietitian. You spoke with my assistant on the phone. Can we all introduce ourselves to Caroline? Remember, first names only, unless you prefer to waive anonymity.'

'That wasn't me on the phone,' Aunt Caroline called out, interrupting the first person who tried to give her name. 'It was my other well-intentioned but overprotective niece. This better be worth my time.'

Now I wanted to slither under the floor tiles. Or shake some sense into you-know-who.

But Judith, bless her heart, didn't miss a beat. 'You may not be happy about coming here today, but we're happy to have you. At some point I hope you will appreciate what you learn. Now, introductions, please?'

There were seven other people, and all but Aunt Caroline and a woman named Esther were carrying around