Chapter Twenty-two

Chris was out on horseback, following the South Rim Trail. Ever since the car accident, it seemed every nut from the city had decided that Sierra City was the place to be. Two weeks ago, a body had been found. A man in his mid-twenties had been shot in the head and dumped in the forest. Roger and Ellen had stumbled across the body when they were out on their evening walk. He was the younger brother of a jailed drug dealer in San Francisco. Eight days ago, a small plane had gone down, some twenty miles into the forest. There were no trails, and Chris led a group of rescuers and a sheriff’s department evacuation unit into where they thought the plane had gone down. It had taken them three days to find the plane. There had been no smoke and no fire. The plane had simply disappeared into the forest. The plane was still relatively intact when they found it, along with about a million dollars' worth of cocaine.

Today, they were searching for a runaway. A teenage girl had left her parents a note and had taken a backpack and enough food for a couple of days. They hadn't approved of her boyfriend and had forbidden her to see him. So, she ran away to be with him. Of course, the boy had no idea. He was safe at home, in a small town about thirty miles north of Sierra City. They had searched every part of the forest that they thought she might have traveled through and had turned up nothing.

"What do you think?" Bobby asked her for the fourth time.

"I think this week sucks," she said. She was tired and she hadn't had a decent meal in eight days. She wondered if she had even left food out for Dillon. She had scarcely seen him in two weeks. "And I thought Yosemite was busy."

They camped near the Nevada Trail that night, their third and her seventh in a row. She radioed Roger when they had the fire going.

"For her to have made it this far in three days, she would have to have been jogging the whole way. We both know that didn't happen."

"I agree," he said. Chris thought he sounded tired and realized that it had been a tough week for him, too. "Come on back tomorrow. We'll concentrate closer to home, even though no one's found a sign of her."

"Ten-four."

The next morning, Roger woke them. "Good news. Found the kid."

"Where the hell was she?"

"San Francisco. She left the note as a decoy and hitched to the city."

"Son of a bitch," Chris said.

"Yeah, I know. Come on home. Let's hope things slow down. Maybe we'll get a snowstorm or something."

They wasted no time and even the horses seemed like they didn't want to spend another night on the trail. It was dark when they got back, exhausted.

Chris stood in the shower, her eyes closed as the hot water soothed her aching muscles. Dillon waited patiently on the toilet seat for her to finish. When the hot water ran out, she turned it off and stepped out, drying herself with a thick towel.

"Miss me?" she asked him as he rubbed against her legs.

She had actually taken the time to stop at Ellen's and pick up something for dinner. She had vegetables sautéing, garlic bread in the oven and linguine ready to boil. After dinner, she sat on the sofa, feet stretched out on the coffee table, sipping wine. Dillon was curled in her lap and she rubbed his ear while he purred.

The knock on the door startled her and she called for them to come in without turning around. Roger stuck his head inside.

"Feel like company?"

"Sure, come on in."

He brought his customary six-pack of beer and he put it in the fridge and took a cold one of hers.

"Hell of a week," he said.

"No doubt," she agreed. "I hope that kid is grounded for life."

He joined her on the sofa and they both put their feet up, staring at the painting over the fireplace.

"Annie?" Roger asked.

"Yeah. You like it?"

"It's good. I'm glad she's found a friend," he said.

"I like her."

"Yeah. Good for you, too, huh?"

"She is. And she cooks. An added bonus."

Chris swirled the wine in her glass absently. Jessie had been weighing heavy on her mind and she was tired of keeping her presence this summer a secret. She wouldn't dare tell Annie, but maybe Roger. She sighed. It had been over a month, but still, she thought of her.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You just sighed."

"So?"

"So, you've been... I don't know, different."

"Different? I've not been different," she said a little testily.

"McKenna, I know you. What the hell is wrong?"

Chris stared at him, then reached out and grasped his arm.

"If I tell you something, you swear you won't tell a soul? Not even Ellen?"

"What the hell is going on, McKenna?"

"You swear?"

"Okay, I swear," he said dramatically. "Now tell me."

"There was a woman staying here at one of Mary Ruth's cabins a month or so ago. I sort of became friends with her."

"A woman, McKenna? You met a woman and it's a big secret?"

"Jessie Stone."

"What the hell? Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure."

"How do you know it was her?"

"Goddammit, Roger, I told you, we became friends."

"Jessie Stone? Here?"

"Here."

"Jesus Christ, McKenna. And you didn't tell Annie?"

"I didn't tell anybody. I first met her out on Ridge Trail, the spot where Jack fell. I knew who she was from her picture, but she introduced herself as Jennifer Parker."

"What the hell was she doing here?"

"You're being difficult, Roger. Let me tell the damn story."

"Sorry. I just can't believe, after all these years, she came back."

"I think she came back with the intention of seeing Annie. She's got some problems, some issues, her therapist says. She can't remember much about her childhood, well her later childhood, anyway. And she damn near hates Annie, although I don't think even she knows why. Something happened to her, Roger and I hate to say this, but I really think Jack abused her. Sexually."

"No, McKenna. I told you, he loved her."

"Yeah, I think he did. I think he really loved her, Roger."

"Is that what she told you?"

"No, she can't remember. It's just stuff that you've told me and Annie's told me. And she's definitely got some problems. Sexual problems, too," she added.

"And you know this how?"

"Look, we didn't sleep together or anything, if that's what you're hinting at," she said. What they had done couldn't be lumped in that category, she knew. And she wouldn't tell Roger what had happened on the ledge that night, either. She doubted she would ever tell anyone that.

"So, what happened? Where is she?"

"She left. Right after the accident. We sort of had words, I told her that I was friends with Annie. I tried to make her see that Annie wasn't the one to blame, but she didn't want to hear that. Anyway, I think she may have remembered. Something happened with her, anyway. And she just left. I never saw her again."

"And she never saw Annie?"

"No. And Annie would kill me if she found out that Jessie was here and I didn't tell her."

"Yes, my friend, I think she would."