that could possibly be JoLynn's—tedious swivelchair detective work and the part of the job I swear I'm allergic to.
Richter didn't get back to me until almost three o'clock and said he had only a family photo from last Christmas, the one time she'd agreed to be photographed. He said he'd been in Houston this morning to visit JoLynn and could have brought it then but would give me a copy when Kate and I came for dinner.
An hour later, dressed in black slacks, a lacy white tank and the platinum and diamond necklace Jeff gave me for my birthday, I drove to Kate's house. She, too, lived in West University, so that was the short part of the trip. Then we were off to the Magnolia Ranch. I filled her in on yesterday's visit there and told her the plan to interview each family member alone.
When we finally reached our destination and I drove down the winding driveway to the house, I said, ''Hope you have your shrink brain in gear, Kate. The way Richter talks, you're gonna need all your skills tonight.''
Eva answered the door dressed in a white uniform, her gray hair pulled back so tight she looked like she'd had a face-lift. She even had a starched little maid's cap set back on her crown. After looking me up and down, unsmiling, she appraised Kate—who had chosen a red sundress with a wide patent leather belt. That's when Eva's expression softened. Kate's beauty can make anyone smile and she has style while I have clothes.
''Come in, please,'' Eva said.
Without a word, Eva led us through the house to the porch, where several people were drinking wine. A large glass bowl sat on a high round table and was half-filled with ice and mounded with peeled shrimp. No one was partaking. There was still plenty of daylight left and Otto, the cook who had served us yesterday, was working away at a stainless barbecue grill and prep center just outside the porch. That setup would take up my entire backyard.
Kate and I stood in the doorway with no one acknowledging our presence. Then, before I made a fool of myself by standing among these rude people and shouting, ''Hi, I'm Abby and this is Kate. We're not invisible,'' Scott Morton came in behind us and saved me from myself.
''Abby and Kate. I'm so glad you're helping us,'' he said.
Heads turned. Disdainful looks came our way. The porch, with its spinning fans and glassed-in elegance, seemed to grow chilly enough to freeze the balls off a billiards table.
''Come and meet my parents,'' Scott said. But I could tell the hostile atmosphere made him nervous and fidgety.
Kate whispered, ''This ought to be fun.''
''Yeah,'' I answered through the side of my mouth. ''Fun as chasing armadillos.''
Scott introduced his parents to Kate and me as ''Mom and Leo.'' ''Kate, this is my mother. She's Uncle Elliott's sister. That reminds me. Maybe someone needs to tell him you two are here.'' He made a hasty exit—and I felt like following him.
His mother switched her wineglass from right hand to left and extended her diamond-loaded fingers. ''Adele Hunt. This is my husband, Leopold.''
I squeezed her hand, but got nothing in return. She then greeted Kate with the same flipperesque shake. Leopold was more enthusiastic, maybe because Kate's cleavage had his full attention. Adele was obviously younger than her brother, Elliott, but Leopold was at least sixty.
Adele wagged a finger between Kate and me. ''Which of you will be the interrogator?'' Her bloodred lips formed a smile that said ''I hope you know who you're dealing with.''
''We'll probably both have questions,'' I said.
''I see. A double-your-fun twin killing.'' She sipped her white wine, her eyebrows raised knowingly at me.
Twin killing? She knew we were twins? What exactly had Elliott Richter told his family? My life history? Probably. And he'd no doubt researched Kate as soon as he knew she would be coming this evening.
Kate said, ''Are you concerned about meeting
Richter didn't get back to me until almost three o'clock and said he had only a family photo from last Christmas, the one time she'd agreed to be photographed. He said he'd been in Houston this morning to visit JoLynn and could have brought it then but would give me a copy when Kate and I came for dinner.
An hour later, dressed in black slacks, a lacy white tank and the platinum and diamond necklace Jeff gave me for my birthday, I drove to Kate's house. She, too, lived in West University, so that was the short part of the trip. Then we were off to the Magnolia Ranch. I filled her in on yesterday's visit there and told her the plan to interview each family member alone.
When we finally reached our destination and I drove down the winding driveway to the house, I said, ''Hope you have your shrink brain in gear, Kate. The way Richter talks, you're gonna need all your skills tonight.''
Eva answered the door dressed in a white uniform, her gray hair pulled back so tight she looked like she'd had a face-lift. She even had a starched little maid's cap set back on her crown. After looking me up and down, unsmiling, she appraised Kate—who had chosen a red sundress with a wide patent leather belt. That's when Eva's expression softened. Kate's beauty can make anyone smile and she has style while I have clothes.
''Come in, please,'' Eva said.
Without a word, Eva led us through the house to the porch, where several people were drinking wine. A large glass bowl sat on a high round table and was half-filled with ice and mounded with peeled shrimp. No one was partaking. There was still plenty of daylight left and Otto, the cook who had served us yesterday, was working away at a stainless barbecue grill and prep center just outside the porch. That setup would take up my entire backyard.
Kate and I stood in the doorway with no one acknowledging our presence. Then, before I made a fool of myself by standing among these rude people and shouting, ''Hi, I'm Abby and this is Kate. We're not invisible,'' Scott Morton came in behind us and saved me from myself.
''Abby and Kate. I'm so glad you're helping us,'' he said.
Heads turned. Disdainful looks came our way. The porch, with its spinning fans and glassed-in elegance, seemed to grow chilly enough to freeze the balls off a billiards table.
''Come and meet my parents,'' Scott said. But I could tell the hostile atmosphere made him nervous and fidgety.
Kate whispered, ''This ought to be fun.''
''Yeah,'' I answered through the side of my mouth. ''Fun as chasing armadillos.''
Scott introduced his parents to Kate and me as ''Mom and Leo.'' ''Kate, this is my mother. She's Uncle Elliott's sister. That reminds me. Maybe someone needs to tell him you two are here.'' He made a hasty exit—and I felt like following him.
His mother switched her wineglass from right hand to left and extended her diamond-loaded fingers. ''Adele Hunt. This is my husband, Leopold.''
I squeezed her hand, but got nothing in return. She then greeted Kate with the same flipperesque shake. Leopold was more enthusiastic, maybe because Kate's cleavage had his full attention. Adele was obviously younger than her brother, Elliott, but Leopold was at least sixty.
Adele wagged a finger between Kate and me. ''Which of you will be the interrogator?'' Her bloodred lips formed a smile that said ''I hope you know who you're dealing with.''
''We'll probably both have questions,'' I said.
''I see. A double-your-fun twin killing.'' She sipped her white wine, her eyebrows raised knowingly at me.
Twin killing? She knew we were twins? What exactly had Elliott Richter told his family? My life history? Probably. And he'd no doubt researched Kate as soon as he knew she would be coming this evening.
Kate said, ''Are you concerned about meeting
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