“No. Doing the tape and letting it be known that it was made because of ongoing fear for your life is good. The sheriff used the media to help find you, now we’ll use it to help protect you.”
“Yeah, but protect me where? In a prison? That worked once for a little while, but we are talking about my life. I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to. I’ll come back for the trial and whatever else I have to do, but I want to live my life. Isn’t there some way to protect me in my home?”
He paused as he reconsidered an alternative. She had a point and he knew she was too strong-willed to be told what to do, even if it made sense. He mentally ticked away the pros and cons. Reluctantly, he came to a conclusion. “Maybe the safest place for you is right back where you started. In Perc.”
“The safest place? What do you mean?”
“Well, for one thing, you going back there would imply that you have no idea who Michael really is. Playing ignorance on that point is going to keep both of us alive. For another thing,” he recalled what Jessica said about the fire at her barn and the break-in, “I think being in his backyard would bring a lot of bad publicity if anything happened to you. The glare of the press would be too bright.”
“You mean he didn’t hide his identity for nothing.”
“Right. A good investigative reporter would find him out in no time flat. I heard he choked on his interview with one of the tougher reporters. If he can’t take digging into his past when people think he’s a hero, just imagine what he’d be like if they smelled blood.” He forced a smile, “going back to Perc is probably the best place for you.”
It was Jessica’s turn to smile. “The sooner the better.” She poured herself another glass of champagne. “I can’t wait to leave this place behind.” She flopped down in a chair and propped her feet up on the bed.
“We can get to work on that tomorrow.”
She looked at him with mock severity. “You mean after we have me declared alive again, right?”
Shea laughed. There was no way he would be able to walk around this woman when she wanted something. “First thing tomorrow, we’ll start the paperwork to resurrect Jessica Wyeth. After that, we’ll redo the tape.”
“Deal.”
“Jessica,” he looked down at his shoes as he tried to find the right words, “I’m sorry for imposing myself on you tonight. You’re right. If anything can ever happen between us, it has to be built on a clean foundation. Maybe, after this is all over and well behind us, we can see what might happen.”
Jessica looked at the man standing by the door. Standing before a hoard of hungry journalists, he seemed larger than life. Now, she felt he was just him. Just Shea.
She stood up from the chair and walked over to him. He met her eyes and smiled. Enveloping her in his arms, he buried his face in her hair and kissed her neck up to the top of her head. Jessica raised herself on her toes and let herself be kissed. Eventually, she responded by giving his cheek a soft buss.
“Good night, Owen.”
He looked down at her and smiled. “Get some sleep.”
Several days later it became clear that most of her business of reestablishing herself was substantially complete and she booked a flight out of town. She only left a message for Shea on his voice mail stating that she was leaving and what flight she would be on. After the incident in the hotel, Shea continuously surrounded himself with office staff or reporters. He seemed to want to make sure that they had no more time alone while he spent his time with Abbey preparing the actual trial against Magnus. Jessica busied herself with rebuilding her life. They were off in different directions at hell-bent speeds. The last thing she wanted was to have a big good-bye scene which, by the way, they had been hounded for the past week, would be duly documented through the unblinking eyes of an army of cameras. Fading into the distance was a much more pleasant prospect.
As much as she hated to admit it, she found herself scanning the heads and faces at Logan Airport for his familiar stride and look. Only a cordon of photographers played honor guard to her exit.
The stately jeweler walked around from behind the glass case to greet his client. He looked down with unhidden pride at the gleaming watches, rings, and other golden objects. This business had been a part of his entire life. His father was a jeweler and his grandfather before that. Each one of the Cabot men had staked his livelihood on knowing his customer’s quest for quality and the perfect item to invest in. Whether it was a diamond and emerald ring for a wife’s birthday or a daughter’s first pearl necklace, the Cabot men were there to fawn over their clients and gently and expertly guide the largest sum of money out of their wallets. All in the name of quality, of course.
There was much he took pride in. The subtly lit glass cases held some of the finest merchandise he had ever carried. Being the ever shrewd marketer, he changed the store around frequently to generate new interest from his steady customers. His grandfather had started the tradition of remembering who each customer was and what he or she purchased. That done, the very next time they entered the store, an inquiry could be made as to how the birthday celebration or special dinner went and how well the gift was received. Sebastian found remembering all of the details difficult, but the rewards for his efforts were gratifying. Sometimes, however, the skill brought the kind of attention he could do without. Being mildly superstitious, he would cease to carry an item that he felt brought him bad luck or an unfavorable encounter with someone. For that reason, silver lighters were one of the items which could no longer be found in the glass cases of his store.
Ever gracious, he extended his hand reluctantly to welcome the waiting man. “So nice to see you again. And so soon! What may I help you with today?”
“I wanted to say thank you for all of your help.”
“Thank you?” The statement crimped the jeweler’s composure. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. “Why, no thanks are due, of course.”
“Certainly.” There was a brief pause. “I was concerned that all of this could somehow hurt your business.”
Sebastian gave a small smile and chuckled. “Not at all. The small amount of notoriety this has given me has only helped. After all, we pride ourselves on our ability to remember our customers.”
“Of course.”
The jeweler cleared his throat a little self-consciously at the tiny misstatement. “I am the one who hopes this won’t hurt you. Your help in having me remember how all of the pieces fit together was very kind. You must believe me when I say that I had no idea what the outcome of my testimony was going to be. I honestly thought Mr. Connaught was going to be exonerated.”
“Don’t concern yourself with that. One last question, though. Did you mention my visit with you to anyone?”
“Excuse me? No.” The jeweler assumed an air of hidden hurt.
“Not even Owen Shea?”
“We agreed that would have been inappropriate. I mentioned nothing when he first approached me and made sure to keep my silence even after giving my testimony to the grand jury. You are right. I see no reason for telling him that. Ever.”
“Very well then. Thank you, Sebastian.”
“It was my pleasure. Will you be returning to Boston again soon?”
“I have no plans, yet, for that. Anyway, I have other matters to attend to.”
“Yes. I’m quite sure you must be extremely busy now. Oh! I almost forgot.” The jeweler handed the man a small, velvet-lined box. “I was pleased to get this on special order for you. We used the original artwork.”
The box was opened and a silver lighter, new and highly polished, gleamed. The engraving was perfect. “As usual, excellent work.”
“Is this a gift?”
“No. Good-bye and thanks again, Sebastian.”
“Good-bye, Michael.”
PART FOUR
Hamilton, Massachusetts
Perc, Kentucky
Boston, Massachusetts
Perc, Kentucky
December 1995
IT WAS NEARLY sunset as she drove the car up the mountain road. The shoulders were two walls of snow, the sheer volume of which impressed her. The last blizzard hit the entire eastern seaboard with an impressive blast. Nearly three feet fell. Jessica never thought that she would see snow like that fall in Kentucky, but she had heard it was an unusually severe winter for these parts. Regardless, she had no complaints. The snow was a companion to her and what most people saw as an inconvenience, she viewed as an adventure.
The higher elevations of the Pine Mountains got much more snow than the valley and she experienced a flash of a homeowner’s concern as she worried about the condition of the barn and her house. It took her a moment to remember that the barn was gone. The fire and her life as Tess White seemed so far away now. For a moment, she fooled herself into thinking that the worst was over. Shea’s words and the gray feeling that the Charity was somehow still out there scared her. Her brows creased together in concern for both her new life and the condition of her home.
She did not have to worry long about her house, however. As soon as she turned into her driveway, she could see that her property had been well cared for. The driveway had been plowed and the walk shoveled to her house. The debris from the barn fire had been trucked away and the scar of where it stood was obscured by the padding of deep snow. The porch light of her house was on and a blue curl of smoke drifted out of one of the chimneys.
The door to the rental car remained open as she stood in the center of her driveway and looked around. The sky was beginning to perform its evening molting of layers of purple and pink peeling away from the horizon. The far ridges rippled in deeper hues. Turning in a slow circle, she inhaled the clean, crisp air and sighed at the beauty of her own small corner of the world. The sky cast its blue glow upon the snow and the scene took on a surreal quality.
“Hello. I’m back. I am Jessica Wyeth and I am home.”
The words were spoken to no one and everyone at the same time. She forced all unpleasant thoughts out of her head and focused on the present. Snow crunched invitingly under her feet and the soft sounds of the woods filled her ears. It was a wonderful moment.
The car chimed its reminder that the door should be closed, eventually registering in Jessica’s mind and rousing her out of her reverie. Grabbing her satchel, she closed the insistent door and strode up to her house. Looking over at where her barn had stood, she imagined how it would look when it was rebuilt. Now she had the money to do it right. It would feel good to get working on a big project right away. It would keep her thoughts on something constructive while the final chaos of her life was being worked out in Boston.
The far light of the kitchen was on and she could tell that someone had been in to clean it up a bit since her hasty departure just a few weeks and a lifetime ago. A small rectangle of paper caught her eye as she threw her luggage down. Electra’s handwriting was immediately recognizable.
Jessica,
I had to think twice as I addressed this note under your new name. Well, then again, I guess it’s only new to us.
Welcome back to Perc. I had my maid come in and just straighten up for you a bit and to start up your wood stove. You should find some food in the ‘fridge.
Hoyt has been a doll and saw to it that your drive was plowed. I am sure you will want to thank him when you see him.
I know you will want to settle in alone, so please give a call in a few days and we can set up a visit. Certainly, if you need anything, give a call before then.
Regards,
Electra
Jessica read the note briefly and sighed. It was going to be harder than she thought to come home. Electra was never one to show restraint and Jessica felt a twinge of anxiety as she thought about facing the townspeople that had been so generous and giving to Tess White. Would it be easy to work back into the town as Jessica Wyeth? Shea was right. Many people were not so forgiving about being lied to and deceived, regardless of the reasons why. Jessica had a strong intuition that another uphill battle was in front of her. As much as she wanted Perc to be her home, she knew she had to work hard to earn back its love and respect.
A large casserole sat in the middle of her refrigerator and Jessica followed the handwritten instructions on how to heat it up. The instructions must have been written by one of Electra’s staff. Jessica could not imagine Electra even knowing where the kitchen was in her house let alone actually functioning enough in one to make a meal.
The thought caused a smile to creep up on her face and she rummaged around her empty cupboards. She was pleased to find one last bottle of Chardonnay and quickly poured herself a glass. After tending to the wood stove and making one round of inspection of her house, she made herself another fire in the living room hearth and sunk into the horrible overstuffed gold easy chair. Having a casserole welcome her was nice, but knowing that it meant that a stranger had access to her home was not. She resolved that a burglar alarm would be one of her first purchases. New furniture could be on her list now, too.
As the flames flickered in the hearth and the wine slowly began to take effect, Jessica let herself relax. In the privacy of her own home, she could feel the layers of defensive shields she had built up begin to dissolve. She did not know how long it would take, but the reward of living her life as herself was going to be worth the trouble.
The plate of food she had set out for herself was only half eaten when the phone rang. The unfamiliar sound of it made Jessica jump.
“That was quite a disappearing act you did. What’s the big idea?”
Jessica smiled at the sound of Shea’s voice. “Well, you just seemed a little preoccupied. I left you a message, you know.”
“Right. You and five hundred other people. I heard that you left town a few minutes ago from one of my staff. They saw you on the evening news.”
“Oh, God, Shea. Are you still at the office?”
“Yes. There’s an incredible amount of work I still have to do on the trial against Magnus. But when I heard you had left, I realized time just got away from me. You okay?”
“Pretty much. I couldn’t wait to get Boston and the mob scene there behind me. I took your advice and kept myself under wraps while I traveled. The thought of being at the center of another swarm of photographers was just too much for me. I lucked out in Lexington. No reporters were waiting for my plane.”
“You’re right. That was luck.”
Jessica heard the concern in his voice. “What I need more than anything is solitude.”
“Are you sure that’s the best idea? There is still a lot of curiosity about you right now and people will be seeking you out. It won’t be long before they find your little mountain retreat. I just think—”
“Shea, please,” the exhaustion that flirted with the edges of her psyche all day closed in on her. “Look. I can’t run or hide anymore. I want to believe that I’m through with that life. I don’t have anything to run from anymore except some wayward journalists and a few curiosity seekers. I am home now.”
“It’s a little too early yet for you to be out in the open. Jessica, remember what we talked about before you left, about, um, Magnus’ son.” He paused. He let out a long sigh as he searched for the right words. “You know how I hate talking at the office.”
She understood his meaning. His comment indicated that he didn’t want to take the risk that his conversations were still being monitored and he wanted to watch what was said.
“Wait a second. That shouldn’t be a problem anymore, right?”
“Jessica. John Doe is still out there.” He knew that she would press him until he talked about more than he wanted to. He decided to keep the information passed to her as innocuous as possible. “The latest report is that someone fitting his description was headin
g over the border into Canada. Most bets are that he is heading toward Ireland. This case still has a long life ahead of it. Don’t be too naive.”
She was too tired to take offense at his attitude. “Okay. I understand. I am no longer dead nor am I a murder suspect. So as far as I’m concerned, it’s over and I’ll live my life as I please.”
“You’re a key witness! Please, Jessica, it’s not that simple.”
“Shea. What the hell are you trying to say? I know it’s not that simple, damn it!” She could feel herself losing her temper and felt terrible for doing so. “I am exhausted. If there is something you need to tell me, then find a way to do it.”
She could feel Shea flinch over the phone. He tried to shift the conversation onto a more pleasant vein. “Right. Okay. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to come down for a visit,” he paused, remembering their encounter in the hotel. “A working visit. I’ve got a lot I still need to do to prepare, but I could make it down in a few weeks.”
“No reporters to document your hard work?”
“No reporters. Lots of work. How about it?”
She smiled at the thought. “Sounds fine. Just give a call with your flight information and I’ll get you from the airport.”
“Great. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“Shea?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
The next day dawned bright and clear. The air was warm and the snow was slowly being melted away from its grip on the mountaintop. The sun was just lifting its head over the eastern peaks when Jessica awoke. It took her a few minutes to realize where she was. Even then, she remained still, not wanting to disturb anything for fear it would break the dream. She was in no hurry to do anything and sighed contentedly that she could have the whole day to herself and not have to speak to a soul.
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