Shoot from the Lip

and repeated them to her new best friend, Clint Roark.

Five minutes later we pulled up to a curb less than a mile away. Kate’s eyes lit up. It looked like an English cottage: redbrick, peaked roof, and small enough that it was probably the original structure, and thus had a backyard.

Emma glanced in the rearview mirror and said, “Your friend’s here.”

Kate got out to greet him.

I introduced Emma to Roark and said, “Thought you were tied up this weekend.”

“My son had a movie date. Funny, I never had a movie date when I was that young.” He laughed. “Anyway, I dropped them off at the theater and had a couple of hours to kill.”

Kate said, “I told Clint about our house hunt.”

Emma led us up the walkway, and I realized that maybe I was feeling jealous. I feared Roark might monopolize Kate’s time, something Terry had never done. Today was proof of that. He couldn’t spend two hours without her.

I should be happy for her, I thought. Am I that selfish? Daddy always said I was a real foot stomper when things didn’t go my way, and I guess when you get older, foot stomper turns into “control freak.”

After Emma pressed a four-digit code into the lock-box, opened it and retrieved the key, we all went inside and stood in the small foyer that offered a view into the living area. The stairs were to our right, and a small angled room, a study or office with French doors, was on our left. The layout looked similar to mine, but this house appeared older on the outside.

Reading from a sheet of paper, Emma said, “Two baths and three bedrooms, master downstairs, two upstairs. New furnace and air conditioner, wood and tile floors throughout, kitchen redone two years ago.”

Roark smiled. “What are we waiting for?”

“Kitchen first.” Kate grabbed his hand.

I mumbled, “I’ll bet the son’s movie date was Roark’s idea so he could hook up with Kate.”

“What?” Emma said.

“Nothing. Can we talk when we’re done, or do you have to get back to the office?”

“I have another client. Then I plan to go over to my own property before dark. The foundation has been poured and they’re framing today. I can’t believe they’re still giving us the house.”

“They have to stick to the contract, just like you did, and it clearly stated you would get the new house and gifts no matter what. Besides, you still have to appear on one of Venture’s programs.”

“Don’t remind me,” Emma said. “I’m amazed at the progress they’ve made on the house. They said from the beginning it would only take a couple weeks, but I guess I didn’t believe them,” she said. “They bring in all these people and work long hours.”

“Maybe I can meet you there this evening?”

“That would be great, but I hope you don’t feel the need to protect me. The house seems like a small thing after everything that’s happened.”

“And something else has happened. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Tell me,” she said.

“A witness has been murdered.”

She drew in her breath, covered her mouth with her hand. “Is it someone I know?”

“No-at least, I don’t think so. We can talk about all this later. There’s something more I want you to think about, even though we’ve been over this before. Your mother obviously didn’t write the letter to Reality Check. Finding out who did could help us. That person knew the baby was missing. Think about counselors or teachers or neighbors who took a special interest in you. Maybe one of them decided to disguise their identity by making the letter seem like it came from an uneducated person.”

Emma sighed, tucking strands of silky hair behind her ear. “I’ll try, Abby, but I’ve already gone over this a hundred times since we were chosen for the show.”

“Revisit it for me again, okay?”

“Sure. I should be over at the property by five. Can you tell me the name of the person who… died?” Today she’d been free of the worried expression I’d seen all week, but now it had returned.

“Jerry Joe Billings,” I said.

Her eyes widened. “J.J. I remember my mother mentioning someone named J.J. Was it him?”

“Since she and Billings were definitely friends, the answer is probably yes. See? You do remember more than you realize.”

She smiled sadly. “When prompted by terrible events, yes. Now I need to get to work.”

When she walked into the living room, she reverted to Realtor mode-probably her safe mode. “Drapes are old, but the floor is in excellent shape.” She walked over and pulled aside the heavy fabric that covered the window. “New windows, too. That’s a plus.”

Kate and Roark’s laughter echoed through the empty house, and Emma and I joined them in the kitchen.

Emma stopped in the entryway, her hands on her hips, and scanned the large room. “This is different. Haven’t seen a house with this layout in West U.” She glanced down at her paper. “No dining room. I’ll bet they knocked out a wall to enlarge the kitchen.”

I took in the room, then swallowed, hoping to get rid of the lump in my throat. One end of the kitchen, beyond the breakfast nook where a bay window offered a view to the backyard, was a second cozy living area with fireplace. This arrangement was unbelievably similar to the house we grew up in River Oaks. How I had loved that kitchen.

Kate glanced at me and smiled. “Isn’t deja vu wonderful?”

More love at first sight, I thought. “Maybe, but knowing you, you’ll look at about a dozen other places before you decide.”

“If the upstairs and the bathrooms pass muster, I doubt it.” She took Clint’s hand and they went off to explore the rest of the house.

What had happened to her? The new Kate would take some getting used to.

While Kate and Emma went to Emma’s office to draw up a contract-she was absolutely crazy about the house-Clint left to pick up his son, and I went home. I’d already started separate files for each case-one for Billings, one for Christine and one for the two babies-hoping that organizing them this way would give me better clarity. I planned to work on them, but there was a message on my phone, which Diva pointed out with loud meows and much pacing on the counter. It was Jeff.

“Didn’t want to call you on your cell and disturb you if you’re working your case, but I’m home now. When you get a chance, give me a call.”

Didn’t want to disturb me? When I got a chance? Had everyone I loved gone nuts?

Speed dial is the best thing ever invented, and he answered on the first ring.

“I’m home, so get your butt over here,” I said. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Can you come here instead?”

“Sure, but-”

“Is Kate there?”

“No. Why?”

“I prefer if no one knows I’m back yet.”

“Okay, sure.” This was strange.

“And Abby, do something for me first. After we talked about the Billings murder with Don White and you were feeling all guilty about leading the killer to Billings, I got to thinking. My five-hour flight offered plenty of time for thinking. You need to check your car for a GPS tracking device.”

“You mean the thingie I never use? You’ve seen it. It’s right on the dash-”

“No. I mean someone may have put a monitoring device on your car.”

“You think?” I’d never even considered the possibility.

“Get a mirror and look under your bumpers. If it’s there, the device might be hard to find, could be smaller than a deck of cards.”

“I’m on it. And then I will see you very soon.” I hung up and realized that my heart was beating ninety to nothing. There was no doubt I had a grade-A-pasteurized passion for that man.

The cool fall air had remained, and I ran upstairs and changed into low-rider jeans and a new scoop-neck sweater that Jeff hadn’t seen yet. I considered wetting my hair and restyling it, but didn’t want to waste the time. I grabbed my makeup mirror, the kind that magnifies on one side, and also took an old beach towel outside to lie on.

Turned out the magnifying side only made all things dirty under my bumpers blend together. Using the regular side, I began my search again, going too quickly at first, impatient to get to Jeff’s place.

I stopped and took a deep breath. “Slow down and do this right, Abby.”

I hit pay dirt on the back bumper, driver’s side. I found a small black rectangular case amid the filth. I pulled it free and slid from beneath the car. “Damn,” I whispered.

How do you shut this thing down? I wondered. I turned it over and saw there was a battery case, opened it and dumped out the double-As. I gathered everything up, used the baby wipes I keep in my car to clean my hands and took off to see Jeff, thinking, follow me now, whoever you are.

With Saturday shoppers out in force, getting to Jeff’s apartment took more than thirty minutes. I kept a watchful eye for a tail, but no one seemed to have followed me into his complex. I even parked by the manager’s building for five minutes and waited for anyone else to drive in. Nobody did.

Jeff’s car was parked in the first spot near the sidewalk leading to his building, and again my heart sped up. I hurried to his door and knocked my special knock.

When he opened the door we were in each other’s arms at once. Our kiss was getting better by the second when a woman’s voice interrupted us.

“Jeffy? You got a girlfriend, Jeffy?”

I pulled away and peered around his shoulder. A short, chunky woman wearing blue sweats stood in the center of Jeffs mostly barren living room.

I blinked, not quite believing what I was seeing. No mistaking: This woman had Down syndrome.

“This is Abby,” Jeff said. “She is my girlfriend.”