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  "Hello," I said. "Can you tell me how Kyle Hammond is?"

  "Are you a family member or friend of the family?" the young woman asked pleasantly.

  "A friend," I lied.

  "I can't release information to anyone other than a family member, but I believe his mother is here. Would you like to speak to her?"

  "Yeah, please."

  "Who should I say is here?"

  "Just tell her a friend from Kerrville." I smiled. "I'll be in the waiting room."

  She disappeared from the desk, and I made my way to the waiting room. I was watching a cup fill with questionable vending machine coffee when Cate came in, fatigue marking her face. She was wearing tan slacks, a dark brown turtleneck. As usual, she wore very little makeup or jewelry, just a gold necklace and small teardrop earrings. As I watched her cross the room, she brushed her hair back from her face with one hand in a mannerism I had always found suggestive and alluring.

  "Coffee?" I asked.

  "If I drink another drop, I'll have to give up sleep for the rest of my life," Cate said, shaking her head.

  "You been here all night?"

  She nodded as she sat down heavily at an empty table near a window.

  "How's he doing?"

  "He'll survive. No permanent injuries, at least physically. He's asleep right now. Do you want to see him?"

  I looked at her and shook my head as I sipped the coffee. A trace of disappointment flickered across her eyes.

  "Has he said anything else to you about what happened?" I asked, changing the subject.

  "I've asked, but he won't talk to me about it."

  "Tell me about Sarita Ramirez."

  "Kyle and Sarita live together, and I presume it's a longstanding relationship even though I'd never met her until two days ago."

  "The next time you see her find out what she meant about knowing this would happen."

  "She's supposed to be here soon. Why don't you talk to her?"

  "I think it would be better if I stayed in the background. If I question her, she's bound to tell him. You make a living getting people to say things they don't want to, counselor. Get her to talk to you. Where are you staying?" I asked.

  "There's a Holiday Inn a few blocks from here on Durango."

  "I was kinda hoping you were staying at his place. Then maybe I could sneak a peek at his notes and see what's there."

  "Sorry. Sarita didn't invite me, and I didn't ask." Cate leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

  I stared at the coffee grounds in the bottom of my cup. "Have you told him you came to see me?"

  As Cate turned her eyes toward me, there was something unreadable in them. "Quite honestly, Jo, you haven't been a topic of conversation. You lived your life, and we lived ours. Life went on. Is that what you want to know?"

  Well, I asked for that one, I thought. Too bad she wasn't a fucking mute. We had never had any problems unless we talked.

  "You recommend the Holiday Inn?" I asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

  "It's comfortable enough, but I'm only going to be here a couple of days."

  "Okay, I've probably stayed in worse places," I said, finishing my coffee and standing up. "See if you can lay your hands on a key to his place and have a copy made for me. Then before you head back to the Capital City, arrange to get this Sarita here with you sometime, so I can check out their apartment. After that, you can go on home."

  "How long will you be here?"

  "Hard to tell right now."

  "I appreciate you coming, Jo. I wasn't sure you would," she said as she reached out and touched my arm.

  Her touch surprised me. It was always hot and cold with her. Fifteen years earlier that touch had meant everything to me, but now it brought me too close to the past, and I stepped away. "Yeah, well, neither was I."

  I found the Holiday Inn near Market Square and checked in, staying only long enough to drop my bags on the bed and buy a map of San Antonio. I spent the next three or four hours passing myself off as a family friend. Kyle's editor at the Light had no idea what story he was working on but let me look through his desk. The bottom drawer held scraps of paper with notes on them as well as a couple of filled notebooks. When no one was looking, I stuffed them into my jacket pockets.

  The police were less cooperative. They weren't talking about the case period, other than to refer me to the public defender's office. Because the suspect was a juvenile, the little shit's name wasn't even available. And with the victim still alive, I doubted the case would have a very high priority. The public defender's office was closed by the time I got there, and I decided to give up for the evening and start again in the morning. I was lying on the bed watching the evening news when the phone next to me rang.

  "Yeah," I answered.

  "Jo?" It was Cate.

  "You just get in?"

  "Yes, and I have the key you wanted."

  "What room are you in? I'll come and get it."

  "Three-thirty-four."

  "Be there in a minute."

  I knocked on the door to Cate's room and stood where I could be seen through the security peephole. Cate opened the door and handed me a key that still had the tag from an instant key place on it.

  "I'll need the address, too."

  Picking up a complimentary ballpoint pen from the nightstand, Cate wrote the address on motel stationary. "It's not too far from here. I've only been there once, but I think I can remember how to get there if you want me to show you where it is."

  "When will Sarita not be there?" I asked, ignoring her offer.

  "The only time I could arrange for her to be at the hospital with me is Saturday morning. The doctor is planning to discharge Kyle from the hospital then, and she'll be there to drive him home. I'm returning to Austin as soon as he's released. How long will you need?"

  "Forty minutes. Maybe an hour."

  "That shouldn't be a problem. It takes forever to check out of a hospital, and I can stall if I have to about the billing."

  "Give me a call here when she's at the hospital, and that will be that," I said as I reached for the doorknob.

  "Have you had dinner yet?" Cate asked. "I was just going to go down to get something."

  "I was considering room service when you called."

  "I wouldn't mind some company. I hate eating alone."

  "Sure." I shrugged.

  I opened the door, and we were halfway out when the phone rang.

  "Hello. Oh, hello. I was going to call you later," she said with a quick glance in my direction. "He's better today and should be out Saturday."

  She rubbed her forehead and lowered her voice.

  "I know when the banquet is, Susan," she said with a hint of irritation in her voice, "and I'll be there if I can. Don't worry about picking me up. I'll drive myself."

  She looked toward me again and gave a half smile.

  "Can I call you back? I'm starving and was just on my way to get something."

  A couple of uh-huhs later she hung up and rejoined me at the door.

  The restaurant in the hotel was pleasant, and the waitress was extremely friendly. Cate ordered grilled trout after the waitress assured her it was absolutely fresh, practically dragged in from the river that very afternoon, while I ordered enchiladas and a Corona Light. Even though I had had the same meal about six hours earlier, it's my belief that you can never have enough of a good thing.

  "I see your taste in food hasn't changed," Cate said as the waitress left to get our drinks.

  "Kinda hate to give up a good thing once I've found it," I said, realizing how ironic that must have sounded to Cate.

  There were a few empty tables in the dining room, but they filled quickly with traveling businessmen who immediately engrossed themselves in copies of the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal.

  "You going back to the hospital tonight?" I asked.

  "No. Kyle told me to get a good night's sleep on a real bed. After the last two nights in a recliner, I d
idn't argue with him too much."

  "Who is Susan, or is that none of my business?" I asked.

  Cate smiled. "It isn't, but she's my law partner."

  "You doing corporate work now?"

  "Mostly."

  "I thought you loved that pacing back and forth in front of a jury thing."

  "I did, but it didn't pay as well. Most of our clients are corporations with money to burn. I handle civil suits brought against them, and Susan does their tax law. I get into court occasionally, but we manage to settle most cases before they get in front of a jury."

  The waitress returned and set drinks in front of us.

  "You like it then?" I asked.

  "It gets boring occasionally, but the money is good."

  "What about the money in your trust?"

  "It's still there. I'll turn it over to Kyle next year, I suppose."

  "You were supposed to be living on it, Cate. That's why I set it up to begin with."

  "Actually, I did use some of the trust money three or four years ago. Kyle and a friend of his from college wanted to go to Europe and do that same old thing all kids want to do. Essentially that was his graduation present from you."

  "Did he enjoy himself?"

  "Very much," Cate said as she squeezed lemon into her tea. "You've missed a lot by not being involved in his life."

  "All I was going to do was drop in and out of his life. It didn't work with you and me, and it wouldn't have worked with him either. Mom kept me up on what he was doing."

  "We used to go to the ranch quite a bit, you know. We attended your father's funeral a couple of years ago. Your mother said they hadn't been able to contact you."

  "Red Cross didn't deliver the message to me until the day of the funeral. There wasn't anything I could do at that point," I said.

  I was relieved when the waitress returned with our food. After she was assured that we didn't need anything else and thought she had done enough to earn an adequate tip, she moved on to another table. Mixing a forkful of enchilada with Spanish rice, I chewed the food slowly. I'd had better.

  "How did you know I was back at the ranch?" I asked, washing down a mouthful of food with the cold beer.

  "I called your mother," Cate said as she speared a bite-size piece of trout with her fork. "Wherever you were I thought you should know about Kyle. I was surprised when she told me you were back in Kerrville."

  "I didn't know you were still in touch with my family."

  "Just because things didn't work between you and me didn't mean I wanted to cut Kyle off from your family. What made you decide to move back?"

  "Got tired of living out of a duffel bag, I guess." I shrugged. "After Dad died and Mom moved to be closer to my sister, I didn't want to see the ranch sold off."

  "You bought it?"

  "Seemed like a good idea at the time, and Mom won't have to worry financially."

  Cate smiled at me. "Well, it's always been in your nature to be generous...at least with your money."

  We ate quietly through most of the meal. Being with Cate had once seemed like the most comfortable, natural thing in the world, but now we were reduced to inane chitchat.

  I felt much better by the time I polished off the enchiladas, and Cate was beginning to look more relaxed, too. She had an interesting face. Never exactly beautiful, but at moments, she looked exquisite. It was her eyes. They made her face.

  "I know it's a little late, and none of my business, but how have you been since we separated, Cate?" I asked.

  "I have a good job, a comfortable home, a nice car, good friends, and a son every parent dreams of. I couldn't ask for much more."

  "But you're still living alone."

  "That doesn't mean I'm lonely," Cate said with a smile that suggested she hadn't been.

  "Is that where Susan comes into the picture?"

  "That really isn't any of your business."

  "You're right. I was just wondering why you haven't sought another relationship. If not for yourself, then for Kyle. Two parents and all that Dr. Spock bullshit."

  "Who's Lena?"

  I laughed out loud. "You can't be serious! Lena is my housekeeper. Hell, Cate, I didn't have time for you. What makes you think I'd have time for more than a week or two with another woman. Guess I just figured you'd get lonely."

  "I didn't feel the need for another permanent relationship, but I haven't been lonely. And I can't imagine you've been lonely very often either."

  "Touché, counselor."

  Cate laughed and I felt good when I heard her. Laughter lit up her eyes, and although she was older, her eyes were the same deep blue that drew me into them.

  Chapter Four

  THE FIRST TIME I had seen Cathryn Hammond, I was sitting in an Austin jail cell and had to admit that I didn't look my best. If first impressions were important, I was certain I had failed miserably. All I had wanted was a few laughs and a couple of beers. My plane had landed at six-thirty, and by ten-thirty, I was in jail charged with drunk and disorderly, assault and battery, resisting arrest, and various other minor charges. My ribs hurt, my knuckles hurt, and I hadn't even had a chance to finish more than one dance. Being an upstanding citizen, I had demanded an attorney. And what did they send me? This girl who looked like she couldn't even spell jurisprudence yet. By the time she arrived, I was already pissed off about my homecoming. Standing over the stainless steel sink in my cell, I splashed water on my face and tried to catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection off the metal. I couldn't tell if I needed stitches or not, but the bitch I fought with had been wearing a big-ass ring that had torn open a place under my left eye that felt like the Grand Canyon.

  "Carlisle!" the jailer called.

  I turned my head toward her. Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and she reminded me of the stereotypical jailhouse matron of Forties B-movie fame. Her uniform obviously was general issue, and the shirt buttons strained against her ample breasts.

  "You sick?" she asked with no genuine concern in her voice.

  "No," I said.

  "Well, your lawyer's here."

  "It's about damn time," I said as I grabbed my jacket and waited for her to open the cell door. She followed behind me, giving instructions on where to turn and when to stop. We finally stopped in front of a door marked Interview Room Four, and she pushed the door open, holding it until I entered the room.

  "I'll be right outside in case you need me, ma'am," the jailer said.

  I looked toward the table, and Cate stood up to greet her new client. Turning back toward the door, I pushed it open, coming face to face with the jailer.

  "This is a joke, right?" I asked.

  "You said you wanted a lawyer. You got one. Now go in, sit down, and shut up before you wind up back in the cellblock."

  She shut the door and resumed her position outside.

  "Ms. Carlisle," I heard the young woman say and turned to look at her, shaking my head as I went to a chair across the table from this novice. "I'm Cathryn Hammond, and I've been appointed to represent you," she said as I sat down.

  "How long have you been out of law school?" I asked.

  "Long enough for your purposes," she said matter-of-factly as she opened a folder in front of her. "You're charged with drunk and disorderly, assault and battery, destruction of private property, and resisting arrest."

  "Yeah, that about sums it up. Got any suggestions?"

  "Why don't you tell me your version of what happened, and we can go from there." She flipped open a legal pad and looked at me.

  "I've been out of the country for a few months. I flew in late this afternoon planning to visit my folks down near Kerrville. But I decided to check out the club action here before I drove home, so I rented a car and found a cozy little country-western bar. I was just having a beer and checking out the local ladies when this big dyke came up to me and accused me of ogling her woman. Next thing I know the fists are flying."

  "And you couldn't have ignored her, I suppose?"
Cate asked with the hint of a smile that made me feel like she understood.

  "Sure I could've and I planned to, right up to when she dumped a drink over my head. I figured she wasn't going to leave it alone, so I smacked her."

  "You hit her first then."

  "Well, I wasn't going to sit there with beer dripping off of me and wait for her next move. She wanted trouble, and I obliged."

  "Were you drunk?"

  "I was in the midst of my first beer when the trouble started. It's probable that given more time, I would've gotten drunk. But, no, I wasn't."

  "But the other woman was drunk?"

  "As a skunk."

  "According to witness statements, you hit her several times. If she was that drunk, wouldn't one blow have been sufficient?"

  I leaned forward and rested my arms on the table and smiled at Cate. "Probably, but I've been suppressing a lot of pent-up hostility lately. Besides, as you may have noticed, she still managed to get in a hit or two herself."

  "Has anyone looked at that yet?"

  "Do you think I'll need stitches?" I asked, gingerly fingering my cheek.

  "Probably just a butterfly bandage. I'll make sure someone looks at it before I leave."

  "To tell you the truth, I don't know why I was even arrested." Holding up one finger at a time, I recounted the situation as I saw it. "She assaulted me. I defended myself. I wasn't drunk. I'm willing to pay my share of damages to the owners. What's the problem?"

  "I think most of this can be handled without going to court, but there is the resisting arrest."

  "I didn't think I should be arrested, and those nice officers and I had a little...discussion about it."

  Cate smiled again and asked, "You seem to have a pretty quick temper. What exactly is it that you do for a living, Ms. Carlisle?"

  "Photojournalist."

  "Where were you?"

  "Middle East," I said.

  "I would think you saw enough fighting there without bringing it home with you."

  "I had to put up with plenty of bullshit while I was there. I sure as hell didn't need to put up with it at home. How soon can I get out of here?"