The Chocolate Falcon Fraud by JoAnna Carl Page B

said. “Or at least he thought he was hiding from someone. That’s the only explanation I can think of. We can only hope he remembers who it was, but we have to accept the fact that he may not.”
    We sat in Jeff’s room for a while, murmuring at one another in voices we hoped wouldn’t wake him. I let Tess examine the falcon Grossman had given me; then I slipped it back on. I was glad to see a burly guy in the waiting area across the hall—another off-duty cop. He looked in several times to give us a thumbs-up sign.
    After about an hour Tess agreed to come home with us, and we got up to leave. As I leaned over Jeff to say good night in a motherly way, the dangling black plastic falcon bumped into his cheek.
    To my surprise, he opened his eyes. But he didn’t look at me. He looked at the falcon.
    â€œI thought Tess would like it,” he said.
    Then he closed his eyes and apparently went to sleep again.
    â€œJeff!” After giving that yelp, I resisted the temptation to shake him. I might break his brain loose or something. But Joe, Tess, and I stood out in the hall and buzzed about his words.
    Jeff had obviously recognized the falcon. Did this link him to Grossman? We all walked out of the hospital shaking our heads.
    We stopped at a Holland restaurant and fed Tess. Then we all headed back to Warner Pier, with Joe and me in the truck, and Tess following us. By then it was getting dark, and it was one of those cool nights west Michigan can have in June. As a Texan, I loved ’em. Texas has cool nights, too, of course. But they come in March and April.
    When I looked back to make sure Tess’ headlights were behind us, I saw a plastic bag in the truck’s backseat.
    â€œOh, rats!” I said. “Jeff’s dirty clothes are still here. Don’t let me forget to take them into the house.”
    Tess’ little red Ford was still following us when we drove down the sandy lane that served as our driveway. We all went to the back door.
    Joe paused as he put his key in the lock. “Did you bring Jeff’s clothes?”
    I held up the hospital bag. “I’ll get on it tonight.”
    True to my intention, as soon as I got inside I took the plastic bag to the laundry area located in our back hall. I opened the washing machine and began to put things in it. I tossed Jeff’s underwear and socks in the machine and laid the boat shoes aside. Then I looked the polo shirt over. It was, naturally, the one Jeff had been wearing when he came by my office and whenhe was in the wreck. It was rather stained. I wondered idly if Hogan would want the lab guys to look it over before I washed it. I decided I’d better ask him, so I laid the shirt aside as well. Which meant the khaki pants might also need a check. I started to put them aside, but first I decided to look in the pockets.
    I pulled out a handkerchief. Jeff actually had a handkerchief? He really had grown up. A key. The one to our house. Thank goodness. Plus, now we could feel sure of how Jeff got in. I found a handful of change and some mints.
    The final item in the final pocket was a small paper sack. It held something lumpy.
    Tess had come into the room behind me. “What’s that?” she asked.
    I peeked inside the sack. “All I see is tissue paper,” I said.
    I pulled the paper out. It was, of course, wrapped around the lumpy item. I unwrapped it, turning it over and over until I got to the core.
    It was a small black object. It had a metal loop on the top and a black satin ribbon had been strung through that loop.
    I held it up by the ribbon, and Tess gave a little gasp.
    â€œWell, Tess,” I said, “Jeff said he thought you’d like a falcon. I guess he got you one.”
    The falcon, just an inch high, appeared to be identical to the one Grossman had given me, except for its eyes. My falcon had tiny rhinestone eyes, imitating white diamonds, but the ones in this inch-high bird