doors. A huge bay window with cushioned seating was flanked by loaded shelves. Someone had set up an old writing desk in the center of the room and I let out a sigh at the comfort of having at least a thousand books surround us. We each took a mahogany armchair with upholstered tapestry seats and readied our notebooks for the first test. And it sure felt like a test. A test like the SATs. A test that would require focus and every one of my brain cells working.
That's why I'd cut off the wine after a taste of the wonderful Syrah served with our grilled steak, mushrooms in Marsala and skewered vegetables. I decided during the salad phase of the meal that Richter had not exaggerated about his family. By the end of dinner, I was sure Cinnamon was the only sane person besides Scott. She'd fended off barbs left and right—less-thansubtle remarks about her dress, her thick Texas accent and even her dark roots. That last one came from—who else?—Adele, who had hair so red I was certain her hairdresser's fingers were permanently stained.
Kate hardly said a word and made sure she chose a spot at the dinner table as far from Ian and Leopold as possible. I couldn't be sure this was the usual male behavior in the Richter house—to gawk at someone as lovely as Kate—but I suspected it was.
''What is wrong with these people?'' Kate asked after Richter left us alone to await our first interview. ''No one mentioned JoLynn or asked how she was doing. Not even Scott.''
''Maybe Richter told them to keep their mouths shut about her until we talked to each of them alone. His wishes are their commands, if you didn't notice.''
''Even a gecko crawling up the window would have noticed that dynamic, Abby. It's all the other stuff going on that set my head spinning.''
''Dynamics,'' I said. ''Yup, plenty of dynamics—which is only a few letters different than dynamite.''
There was a rap on the door. Then Elliott Richter entered with a young woman in tow. ''Simone, please cooperate with these ladies,'' he said. ''Your mother was telling me you're wanting a new lens for your camera, and I can make that happen if you help sort out what happened to JoLynn.'' Richter faced us. ''This is my sister Adele's daughter. If she gives you any trouble, let me know.''
Simone plopped on the chair across from us. She had a camera bag with her and clutched it tightly in her lap. Skintight denim capris hugged her legs, and she wore an off-shoulder peasant blouse. Her pale makeup was so much lighter than her bronze shoulders and arms, she reminded me of a mime. She kept her focus on her camera case.
In a quiet tone Kate said, ''We missed you at dinner.''
''Someone missed me? That would be a first,'' Simone said. ''Anyway, eating here is bad for the digestion. Sorta makes you want to puke.''
''You're talking about the family hostility?'' Kate said.
Simone lifted her head, met Kate's gaze. ''I take it you're the shrink.''
Kate nodded.
Simone slid down in the chair, her legs crossed at the ankles. ''This isn't about what goes on here. This is about JoLynn. Ask away.''
''What can you tell us about her?'' I said.
''All sweet on the surface, but might be an act,'' she answered.
''Really? How do you know?'' I said.
Simone started twisting a strand of her parti-color
hair—a mix of reds, purples and browns. ''She won't talk to any of us except to smile and say hello and goodbye. Her room looks like a convent closet. But obviously someone didn't like her because she's lying in a hospital half dead.''
''Maybe it wasn't JoLynn that this somebody didn't like. Maybe she learned something while living here that made her a target,'' I suggested.
''You mean she found out something about us?'' Simone laughed. ''Ooooh. Something evil lurks in the hearts of the Richter clan. Something besides self-serving arrogance.''
Kate said, ''You sound like a very bright girl. Insightful. Are
That's why I'd cut off the wine after a taste of the wonderful Syrah served with our grilled steak, mushrooms in Marsala and skewered vegetables. I decided during the salad phase of the meal that Richter had not exaggerated about his family. By the end of dinner, I was sure Cinnamon was the only sane person besides Scott. She'd fended off barbs left and right—less-thansubtle remarks about her dress, her thick Texas accent and even her dark roots. That last one came from—who else?—Adele, who had hair so red I was certain her hairdresser's fingers were permanently stained.
Kate hardly said a word and made sure she chose a spot at the dinner table as far from Ian and Leopold as possible. I couldn't be sure this was the usual male behavior in the Richter house—to gawk at someone as lovely as Kate—but I suspected it was.
''What is wrong with these people?'' Kate asked after Richter left us alone to await our first interview. ''No one mentioned JoLynn or asked how she was doing. Not even Scott.''
''Maybe Richter told them to keep their mouths shut about her until we talked to each of them alone. His wishes are their commands, if you didn't notice.''
''Even a gecko crawling up the window would have noticed that dynamic, Abby. It's all the other stuff going on that set my head spinning.''
''Dynamics,'' I said. ''Yup, plenty of dynamics—which is only a few letters different than dynamite.''
There was a rap on the door. Then Elliott Richter entered with a young woman in tow. ''Simone, please cooperate with these ladies,'' he said. ''Your mother was telling me you're wanting a new lens for your camera, and I can make that happen if you help sort out what happened to JoLynn.'' Richter faced us. ''This is my sister Adele's daughter. If she gives you any trouble, let me know.''
Simone plopped on the chair across from us. She had a camera bag with her and clutched it tightly in her lap. Skintight denim capris hugged her legs, and she wore an off-shoulder peasant blouse. Her pale makeup was so much lighter than her bronze shoulders and arms, she reminded me of a mime. She kept her focus on her camera case.
In a quiet tone Kate said, ''We missed you at dinner.''
''Someone missed me? That would be a first,'' Simone said. ''Anyway, eating here is bad for the digestion. Sorta makes you want to puke.''
''You're talking about the family hostility?'' Kate said.
Simone lifted her head, met Kate's gaze. ''I take it you're the shrink.''
Kate nodded.
Simone slid down in the chair, her legs crossed at the ankles. ''This isn't about what goes on here. This is about JoLynn. Ask away.''
''What can you tell us about her?'' I said.
''All sweet on the surface, but might be an act,'' she answered.
''Really? How do you know?'' I said.
Simone started twisting a strand of her parti-color
hair—a mix of reds, purples and browns. ''She won't talk to any of us except to smile and say hello and goodbye. Her room looks like a convent closet. But obviously someone didn't like her because she's lying in a hospital half dead.''
''Maybe it wasn't JoLynn that this somebody didn't like. Maybe she learned something while living here that made her a target,'' I suggested.
''You mean she found out something about us?'' Simone laughed. ''Ooooh. Something evil lurks in the hearts of the Richter clan. Something besides self-serving arrogance.''
Kate said, ''You sound like a very bright girl. Insightful. Are
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