Chapter Twenty

Dinner with Annie was the hardest thing Chris had ever endured in her life. Annie was full of questions about the accident and Chris filled her in, but the usual banter between them was missing. Annie commented that Chris was unusually quiet, but Chris passed it off to exhaustion. She so badly wanted to confide in Annie about Jessie, but she knew Annie would never forgive her for not telling her that Jessie was here. The painting that Annie had done for her was finished and it turned out to be beautiful, even to her inexperienced eye, and she told Annie as much. She hung it over the mantel as soon as she got home.

She had not even been tempted to drive to Jessie's cabin. She was still very angry at both Jessie and herself. And for the life of her, she couldn't imagine what had happened. Maybe that was what Jessie was used to. A quick fuck and hey, see you around. But that had never been Chris's style. Even her teasing words to Jessie about making trips to Sacramento to the bars was mostly talk. Only once had Chris taken a woman up on her offer and then, only after several drinks. She had regretted it the next morning and hadn't been back since.

But with Jessie, Chris had allowed her attraction to overtake her good sense. But what they had done, however brief, could hardly be called making love. And on the ledge, for God's sake. Had they actually been in the throes of passion, they could have both tumbled off into the canyon.

But it didn't matter. Lesson learned. And it was true. Jessie had tried to warn her. She just hadn't believed it.

It was after the third day and no sign of Jessie when Chris broke down and drove to cabin number seven. She found it empty. The door was locked and she walked around to the back porch. The chairs were standing neatly against the cabin and she pressed her face against the window and peered inside. Empty. All of Jessie's things were gone and Chris told herself that she was glad, that she didn't want anything more to do with Jessie Stone, but she knew she was lying. She really was worried about her. Without realizing what she was doing, she stopped the Jeep at Mary Ruth's and met her on the porch.

"Oh, she left three days ago. Didn't even see her, though. There was just a note and the key left on the porch here."

Chris figured Jessie must have gone straight to the cabin and packed and left that same night. Well, it was probably for the best.

Her days returned to normal. The excitement over the murders had died down like they knew it would, and their weekends were again busy with hikers and campers hitting the trails before winter came. They were well into September and the first snowfall of the season wouldn't be far behind.

Chapter Twenty-one

Jessie waited in the reception area, early for her appointment for once. She wore black jeans and a black vest, with a wrinkled white T-shirt underneath, comfortable in her athletic shoes. Probably the only one in the building who was. High heels and hose, suits and ties were everywhere. Back in the city, she thought. She had been back nearly two weeks, but she had not left her apartment once. She had sat for hours, just thinking. She thought of Chris a lot, especially of how they had left things between them. She wondered if Chris would ever forgive her. She wouldn't blame her if she didn't. She thought of Annie, too. She wondered what she would be like and she acknowledged that she didn't really know her. They had shared a house for seventeen years, but Jessie had no idea of her likes and dislikes or anything else about her. Chris had been right. She probably did know Annie better than Jessie ever would. She tried not to think about Jack, but long buried memories kept creeping in, memories that she wished she could still forget.

"Ms. Stone, she's ready," the receptionist told her pleasantly.

Jessie walked confidently into Dr. Davies' office and offered a smile.

"Well, so glad you're back. I was surprised to find your name on the appointment list."

Jessie shrugged.

"You look well. Did everything go okay?"

Jessie didn't know where to begin so she just blurted out the words that she still found hard to say.

"Jack sexually abused me."

She expected shock, disbelief. Not the quiet nod that she got.

"What? That's it?" Jessie asked.

"I suspected as much, Jessie. But you had to remember yourself, I couldn't put that idea in your head."

"You suspected? How?"

"Jessie, let's talk about how you discovered this? Did you talk to your mother, to Annie?"

"No. I couldn't bring myself to see her. I met someone who knew her, though." But she didn't want to go over it all again. She had thought of nothing else for the past two weeks. She stood up suddenly, pacing in front of the desk. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Jessie, sit down."

"No. I don't want to sit," she said, still pacing. "It just came to me. I think maybe I knew, I don't know. Chris kept asking about my childhood, you know, but I didn't remember. I kept telling her I didn't remember."

"Who is Chris?"

"She works there, she knows Annie. She knew who I was," she explained hurriedly. "We had an argument about Annie, about Jack. She told me some things that I didn't know, that I didn't remember." Jessie walked back and forth in front of the desk, her mind reeling.

"That night, I went up on the mountain. Something just pulled me up there. And I sat... and I remembered," she finished in a whisper. "I remembered it all."

"Jessie, please sit."

"No, dammit! I don't want to sit. I've been sitting for two weeks. I'm angry. And I want to know why?"

"Why? Why he did it?"

"Yes. I want to know why? Was it Annie's fault? Was it my fault?"

"Jessie, we'll never know why. We just have to work through this and we can, now that you know."

"No. I can come here and we can talk this to death, but what will that solve? It's not going to change anything," she said.

"No, you're right. It wouldn't change anything. But most importantly, you must know that it wasn't your fault. You were a child. You were the victim."

"But why?"

"There could be numerous reasons, Jessie. I can list off clinical answers for you if you want. But let's talk about you. Let's talk about how you feel."

"How I feel? How the fuck do you think I feel?"

"Jessie, I know you're angry. You should be angry. But at least you feel something."

Jessie stopped her pacing and stared at her. Yes, at least she felt something. She couldn't have said that a month ago. A month ago, she just felt dead.

"I'm going back," she stated. "I want to see her."

"That's a good start. Perhaps after we've had a chance to work through this, you'll be able to see her, to talk to her about your childhood. Your mother may have no idea what happened."

"No. Look, I'm not deranged, I'm not suicidal. I don't want to murder my mother, despite what you may think after reading my books." Jessie leaned on the desk and faced Dr. Davies. "I just want my life back."

"And you should, Jessie. You will. But it's not just a matter of accepting this and going about your life. You will have bad moments. You will still remember things that you don't even remember now. We'll work through it and you can still live a normal, healthy life."

"You don't understand. I'm not going to work through this by coming to you and talking about it. I think I only came today to be able to say it out loud to someone. I've been sitting in my apartment for two weeks, working through it. Yes, at first, I thought it was my fault, that I'd done something to deserve it. Then I thought it must be Annie's fault. But last night, I finally realized that Jack was the only one to blame. And I can be as angry with him as I want to be, but he's not here anymore. And you're right. I haven't had a life. Not yet. And I don't want to waste any more time. So I'm going back to see her, to talk to her."

"And I think you should, Jessie. But you need guidance. You need someone to talk to about your fears, and you will have them."

"I think I have someone there I can talk to," she said. "That is, if she'll still want to talk to me."

"Annie?"

"No. Chris. If anyone will understand, it's Chris," she said, hoping it was true.

"How do you know this? She's someone you've known for what, a few weeks?"

"I just know."