Pushing Up Bluebonnets

spilled since JoLynn's accident. No one in the Richter family seemed equipped to deal with it all.

'If you're staying here,' Cooper said, 'then Abby and I can get busy finding out who this Joe Johnson really is. If you'd e-mail us both pictures of any employees— nurses, aides, security—anyone you and your brother have authorized to be here, I'd appreciate it. Mr. Richter knows how to get in touch.'

'I will do that,' Adele said with a distracted nod. She held her BlackBerry with two hands, her gaze far- off.

We said good-bye and left the waiting area. I had my arms clutched around me to protect against what was becoming the very familiar chill. After we exited the elevator into the lobby, Cooper, who'd seemed lost in thought for the last minute or two, finally spoke.

'The security guard thing is important, but let's step back a minute. Help me process our visit to JoLynn. She seemed pretty mellow until I told her the car was rigged, so she understood what I meant. That piece of information would sure as hell upset me, too.'

We paused near the hospital exit and I said, 'You think she knows who fiddled with her car?'

'Maybe. Can we pick up lunch and go back to your place? I need to think things through.'

'I don't have much appetite, but we can stop at Becks if you want. Black bean burger okay?'

He smiled. 'Sounds great.'

'Kate loves them, but then, she's a fan of tofu, organic grains and anything else you can take away from the Whole Paycheck Market.'

He laughed. 'Will I get to meet the shrink this weekend? We could sure use her expertise when we visit JoLynn tomorrow,' he said.

'She'd be more than willing. I could leave her a message, since she's probably with a client.'

'Do it,' he said.

'Hope you're up for Shrek and Happy Feet tonight, by the way. Jeff's sister has Down syndrome and we watch whatever she picks on Friday pizza night.'

'This is a guy who misses Saturday cartoons, so you don't have to sell me on animated anything—but please let me buy the pizza,' he said.

'You've got a deal.' Then I turned on my cell to phone Kate and saw MISSED CALL on the screen. Jeff's caller ID. 'Jeff phoned. Maybe he got the security tapes from the garage.'

'I'd like a lead on that bastard who knocked you out, myself.'

'Better call Jeff first.' Then I said, 'Hey there' when he answered.

'Listen, we got a problem,' he said.

'You need help with Doris before you come over tonight? We've already made the hospital visit to JoLynn, but guess what happened?'

'You need—'

'Cooper and I have a lot to tell you,' I went on. 'He's staying at my place over the weekend and—'

'Abby, listen to me. They just pulled Kent Dugan's body out of Brays Bayou.'

23

I was too stunned to speak for a second and must have looked it because Cooper put a supportive hand on my elbow and mouthed, 'Are you okay?'

My stomach felt like I'd eaten a batch of Texas kumquats right off the tree, but I gave him a thumbs-up to let him know I was fine. Then I said to Jeff, 'Dugan was murdered?' so Cooper would understand what we were discussing.

Cooper reacted with raised eyebrows to my words while Jeff went on, saying, 'When's the last time you remember anyone swimming in that bayou? Yes, he was murdered.'

'Sorry I asked.' This terrible development had apparently made us both testy.

'You're obviously in the middle of something uglier than we thought, what with this murder and last night's incident in that garage.' He didn't add 'so I worry,' but I knew that's why he still sounded pretty tense. 'Anyway,' he continued, 'Bart and I caught a drive-by shooting first thing this morning and when we got back to the sixth floor at Travis, DeShay and Chavez were heading out on the bayou call.'

DeShay Peters and Jeff were once partners but had been split up because they were both day-shift sergeants. Now all the murder squads—God, how I hated that title—had a sergeant and an officer working together. DeShay was with Chavez and Jeff's new partner was Bart Pulanski.

'DeShay drew the case?' I said. 'That's good.'

'Luck of the draw. I filled him in on the tampered car, the coma victim's relationship to the complainant. I told DeShay I'd met Dugan and that you knew him, too, so expect a visit or a call.'

I could never get used to Jeff or the rest of his homicide buddies calling victims complainants. It sounded like the dead person might rise from the grave for a court appearance. 'Sorry, I'm a little blown away by this. What did you say?'

'DeShay will call you.'

'I could phone him right now or—'

'He'll get to you when he can, Abby.'

'But this is huge. This is, well, awful.' I was sure glad Cooper was standing next to me because I was feeling a little sick to my stomach. Nerves? Or leftover side effects from the drugs?

I swallowed, heard Jeff sigh.

He said, 'I guess because you're Abby, you have to be doing something, not wait around. Did you say Boyd's with you?'

'Yes.'

'Can I talk to him?'

'Sure.' I handed the phone over.

Cooper said, 'What's going on, Jeff?' Lots of uh-huhs and okays followed before Cooper closed the phone and handed it back. 'Jeff said you'll know where to go when I give you the body location, but I'm driving.'

'He doesn't think I can drive? I'm perfectly capable of—'

'My decision. You may think you're fine, but I saw your face in that parking garage a little while ago and just now when you got this news. You're shook up. We do this together or I'll find my way there alone.'

I sighed in frustration. 'I need my car, Cooper. We can both drive.'

'We'll pick yours up later,' he said decisively. 'We need to get to that scene now.'

'Okay, let's rodeo.' I said this calmly though I felt anything but calm. A suspect was dead and added to that, either Cooper or Jeff decided not to allow me behind the wheel. So why did I feel a little relieved that Cooper was driving? Probably because that guy screwed with my head last night. I preferred control, not having to deal with rubber legs and feeling like I was drunk.

Turned out we didn't have far to go. Since Cooper was in plain clothes and had come to Houston in his truck, he had to show his badge and ID to the officer standing on the Brays Bayou embankment. We were waved on when the officer told us that Sergeant Peters was expecting us. Guess Jeff called DeShay.

Patrol cars and officers from the Harris County Sheriff's Department and HPD were waving along the rubberneckers who were delaying traffic on the overpass. No one on foot had stopped to look—maybe because this was not a walker-friendly part of town.

I saw the familiar black baseball caps that the medical examiner's investigators wear, as well as the navy- clad Crime Scene Unit officers. The body had been dragged up to a spot where the concrete met the grass. Because of the steep embankment, DeShay had to sit by the corpse—his position such that I couldn't see Dugan's face, thank God. No matter how ugly the guy had been on the inside, his face and body had been beautiful. If he'd been tossed from the top of the embankment and rolled down fifty feet of sunbaked ground and concrete to the water, I was betting his outside matched his inside now.

I pointed out DeShay to Cooper and he eased down the bank to join him by the body. I stayed where I was, arms crossed, keeping my focus on the two men as they greeted each other. That way, I saw nothing more than