after Aunt Caroline.
I shook my head as I entered the house. I swear the inscription on Aunt Caroline’s tombstone will read,
Willis and Kate were bent over Daddy’s desk in the study, documents spread in front of them. Kate seemed harried, her hair a tangled mess, a fist on her hip. She was holding a paper in the other hand.
When our eyes met, I realized she might be more than a tad cranky.
“This is not my idea of fun, Abby. Not after a morning of trying to keep Aunt Caroline from calling Allied Van Lines and stealing everything in sight. What took you so long?”
“Glad to see you, too, Kate.”
Her eyes flashed. She had to be the nicest, most flexible soon-to-be therapist this side of the Mississippi, but she was at her irritable worst right now.
“I’m not apologizing,” she said. “Not this time. You deliberately avoided dealing with Aunt Caroline, didn’t you?”
The last time Kate was this pissed off at me was when I went to the prom with the biggest flirt in the senior class just because the guy had a great ass. She believed I’d compromised my values. Actually, I had compromised
The tension between us seemed to make Willis uncomfortable, probably because he’d never seen Kate have an almost-tantrum before. I had, of course, but not in a long time.
“Answer me, Abby. Did you purposely stay away?” she said.
“Well, Kate, you’ve spent a gazillion dollars at Rice University so you can call yourself an expert on unconscious motivation. You figure out why I didn’t want to witness the pillage. And by the way, what’s that?” I pointed at the paper in her hand.
“The stupid contract. We had an offer on the house.” She threw the paper on the desk.
I looked at Willis. “Is this the real reason she seems ready to chomp a chunk out of my butt?”
Willis cleared his throat again, impatiently thumbing through other papers. “Bad offer. I’m guessing the prospective buyer wants to see how low you’ll go. The small matter of the recent, uh...
“With Kate’s plans for a serious lifestyle adjustment, maybe we’ll have to cut our losses,” I said.
“Oh,” she said sarcastically. “So if we make a mistake about selling, it’s all my fault?” Her chin jutted a few inches, and her cheeks now raged scarlet.
What in the heck was wrong with her?
I kept my voice level. “You’re entitled to a life of your own with Terry, so maybe we shouldn’t be selling merely to spare me having to care for such a huge place alone. In fact, maybe Willis and Aunt Caroline are right on this one. Selling so soon after the murder could be a mistake.”
Her shoulders relaxed and the tension around her mouth eased. “Good. Because I feel the same way.”
Willis said, “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses about something.” His hazel eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Where have you been, by the way? You’re sunburned.”
“In Galveston, trying to find out about someone. Pretty frustrating day, though.”
“Did this frustration concern Ben’s death?” Willis asked.
“What if it did?”
“You’re carrying this too far, Abby,” he said. “What if you ended up face-to-face with Ben’s killer?”
“Good question.” One I was too tired to consider. I picked up the contract and looked at Kate. “Can we trash this?”
“Please do.” She pushed aside the hair flopping on her forehead. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I’ve been worried about leaving you alone when I go live with Terry.”
“I’ll be alone, whether here or in a smaller place. About time I fended for myself,” I said.
Willis cleared his throat. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’m meeting Simon Holloway for eighteen, though he probably won’t be able to finish nine holes in the afternoon heat. He eats porterhouse steaks and slurps Manhattans for lunch. No wonder he can’t even walk back and forth to the golf cart.”
“Thanks for coming over,” said Kate.
Kate and I walked Willis to the front door and I said, “By the way, who handled our adoption, Willis?”
He stopped at the door, looking like he’d just put on barbed-wire Jockey shorts. “What? Where did you pull that question from?”
“Just wondering.”
“I handled the legalities,” he said, his tone curt.
“So you didn’t go through an agency called Parental Advocates?”
“We dealt with your biological family’s lawyer directly after the plane crash.”
“And that lawyer’s name wasn’t Samuel Feldman?” I said.
He stared at me, eyes narrow. “Oh. I remember you mentioning Feldman and how he was somehow connected to Ben’s past. Is that what you’ve been up to today? Digging up skeletons?”
“I was thinking Ben may have sought Daddy out because Cloris used the same adoption agency years ago.”
“Cloris used an adoption agency?” Kate said. “When did you find that out?”
“I’m not sure she even did. And the adoption angle might have nothing to do with why Ben came here, but it’s better than no explanation at all. I have another question, Willis.”
He checked his watch. “I really should have left here by now.”
“This won’t take a minute. Do you need a license to run an adoption agency?”
“No license is required that I’m aware of. Texas has more liberal adoption laws than most states.”
“What do you mean by liberal?” I asked.
“Can we leave this alone? I have to go.” He turned the knob.
“Does liberal mean it’s okay for someone to pay a birth mother?”
“Is this a roundabout way to ask about your own adoption? Because I assure you, Charlie and Elizabeth did everything in their power to provide you and Kate with a good home. If you start questioning their—”
“Who says I’m questioning anything they did?” But his defensiveness had me wondering. Now was not the time to press him, however. I’d already flustered him enough. So I said, “Actually, Willis, I’m asking all these questions because I’m thinking of adopting. I figure I’ve had plenty of experience raising Steven.”
“I take it you’re joking, but whatever you’re up to, I advise you not to upset the wrong people. Adoption means money to some, and when you mess with their money, they often react unpleasantly. I’ll see you Sunday for dinner.”
He left and Kate closed the door. “What have you been up to, Abby? Because if I know you, you didn’t get that sunburn on a Galveston beach.”
“It’s a long story, and I’m dying to share the details.”
We went arm in arm back to the kitchen, fixed iced tea, and moved out by the pool so we could enjoy the tiny breeze that blessed us today. I recounted my interview with Hamilton and my first attempt at shadowing someone.
“That kid who tried to steal your car could have had a gun, Abby! What were you thinking?”
“Obviously I wasn’t thinking.”
“And I suppose you’re not done with Helen Hamilton?”
“She’s connected to Feldman, and Feldman is connected to Cloris and Ben.”
“Sounds like you made her plenty suspicious with all your questions.”
“I figure she’ll get less suspicious when I return with a husband and some cash.” I smiled.
Kate didn’t.
“He won’t go for this,” said Kate as we pulled into Terry’s driveway a few hours later. His small brick home was on a tree-lined street in one of my favorite sections of the city, near Rice University.
Kate hopped out of the SUV and went around to open the back gate on her 4Runner. She let Webster out and he bounded toward the front door, stopping briefly to lift his leg and spray the huge oak in the front yard. He likes Terry’s house. Not as much square footage to wear him out.
“I know Terry will be reluctant to help me, and that’s why you have to convince him,” I said.
