Pushing Up Bluebonnets by Leann Sweeney Read Free Book Online Page A

Richter and I'm working with Chief Boyd on this case. I'm a private investigator.'' I handed him a card.
      His name badge read DEPUTY WELLS and
                                             though I was the one talking, his gaze was on Kate as he stood.
      The man was built, not to mention hot. And tall enough I'd need a stepladder to look him in the eye. He said, ''Funny, Coop didn't mention you when he asked for county help to protect JoLynn Richter. I'm Greg Wells, by the way. Who's your friend?'' He smiled down at Kate.
      I could almost feel the heat of Kate's blush. ''Dr. Kate Rose. I've had a little experience with head-trauma victims and am here to evaluate her.''
       Nice little twisting of the truth, I thought. Kate might be getting back to her old self after all.
      ''I think Miss Richter has a bunch of doctors already.'' The deputy looked back and forth between us. ''I take it you two are related?''
      ''Sisters. And I'm not a medical doctor,'' she answered. ''I'm a clinical psychologist.''
      ''Last time I looked in her room, the girl was in a damn coma. How do you work with sleeping people?''
      ''That's not why we've come, Deputy Wells,'' I said. ''My sister—''
      ''Excuse me,'' said the other guy who'd been sitting in the waiting room. He was now standing behind Kate. ''I couldn't help but overhear. JoLynn is my cousin.''
      Wells looked at him, obviously surprised. ''Why didn't you say something?''
      ''I had no idea you were here for JoLynn,'' he answered. ''The police think she's still in danger, then?''
      ''We're taking precautions,'' he replied.
      Compared to Wells, the new guy was so skinny he could lie under a clothesline and not get a sunburn. Not bad looking, though. Baby face, hazel eyes dotted with gold, and plenty of highlighted hair—unlike Wells, whose receding hairline reminded me of low tide. The cousin's designer polo shirt was coral, his khakis were unwrinkled and he smelled very metrosexually nice.
    ''What's your name?'' Wells asked him.
      ''Scott Morton. My mother is Uncle Elliott's sister. I promised my uncle I'd stay here until he could get free.'' He looked at me. ''Uncle Elliott never mentioned any investigator to me, either.''
      ''Chief Boyd probably didn't have a chance to tell anyone,'' I said quickly.
      Wells smiled. ''Why don't we clear this up? I'll call up Coop and ask him about all three of you.''

    6

    My stomach fluttered as Wells made the call. Oh, what a tangled web and all that crap. But after Wells told him who was waiting in line to see JoLynn, he listened for a second before handing the phone to me. ''He wants to talk to you.''
      ''Why are you at the hospital, Abby?'' Cooper asked. Seriously, the guy ought to get his obviously stressed vocal cords checked.
      ''Can't help myself,'' I answered. ''I'm a sucker for anyone who's written to me for help.''
      ''Pro bono?'' he said.
      ''If that's what I need to do, yes,'' I answered.
      ''I called a friend at HPD and he says you're smart and know your way around a whodunit. I have to admit I could use someone like you.''
      ''Why, Cooper Boyd. I'll bet you're not afraid to ask for directions, either.''
      He laughed and said, ''I'm not sure how visiting a comatose woman can help solve an attempted murder, though.''
      I told him how Kate and I work together, that she'd had training in the psychological aspects of brain injury and wanted to evaluate JoLynn for herself.
      ''I'm up for anything, so go for it,'' he said. ''I'll tell Wells you're good to visit. He tells me Scotty is there, too.''
      ''Um . . . yes. But you sound amused.'' I fought the urge to look over at Scott Morton.
      ''Nerdy kid but nice. He came with the bail money for Matthew, Richter's son, one time last year. I've been told Matt used to be a regular visitor to our local facility—local facility meaning jail. Drinking and public lewdness—which translates