The Charity

by Connie Johnson Hambley

  Eventually, she got up and made a pot of coffee. The pungent smell of the brew drifted its way past the doors of the kitchen and through the house. She loved the normalcy of it and spent her first full day at home in her pajamas catching up on mail and reading. She was amazed at how exhausted she was and let herself sleep most of the day.

  The better part of her second day at home was spent hiking up the ridge. The snow in spots was thigh deep and she cursed herself for not having either a pair of snowshoes or cross-country skis to take advantage of the opportunity for some fun. The thought that Kentucky would have enough snow for that sort of thing did not cross her mind when she decided to move there. She loved it.

  She struggled her way up to the peak. The last time she was up there was before the break-in when she was still riding hard. Now, with her injuries healing, she could not wait to get back onto a horse. The snow was hardly a barrier. It merely added to the adventure. A list ran through her head of the horses that were in her care before the fire and she tried to think of which one would be best suited for a hard ride up the mountain in deep snow. None that were in her care fit the bill and Empress and Banshee were not up for hard terrain as it was still too early to put them through anything taxing. Only Gapman drew her interest. She resolved that she would call Hoyt and ask if she could take a ride on his horse.

  A rock outcropping, covered in ice and snow, made the perfect vantage point for the view. Although this peak was not the highest in the area, it afforded breathtaking views of the valley and surrounding area. She turned in a slow circle and let the sight soak into her. In that moment, her trauma of the past years began to feel very far away. Last night’s sleep had not been without its nightmares, vaulting her awake with terror and sweat. Maybe if she spent enough time alone, outdoors, and with her animals, the nightmares would slowly go away.

  For her, being outside and with horses was the best therapy in the world. Even after her family’s accident, she ran to the only solace she knew. More than anyone, Gus understood it for what it was and encouraged her to ride as much as possible. Understanding what was going on in Gus’ mind, Jessica had a better idea as to why Gus became a solitary and consummate horseman. He channeled all of his frustration and anger into the things that gave him the most pleasure. Jessica understood his passion for horses now more than ever, comforted by how alike they were. Her love for a hard ride on a nearly wild horse on impossible terrain made her feel connected to life in a way no person could. She could only guess that it made Gus feel the same way.

  Or at least used to. Jessica had poured over the track and vet records her father had risked his life to save. The documents showed clear abuse of fine animals by racing them too hard and too often with injuries that could not possibly heal under the stress of use. It was obvious that Jim tried to bring the abuse to the attention of track officials, but no one took any action. Jessica assumed that either the Charity had members who worked at the tracks or just general industry complacency played a role. Also, it was clear that trainers faced little punishment if horses assigned to them were doped or broke down. Even the vets that were hired independently often could not detect an injury if it was masked with painkillers. Jim’s documents set forth a complex system that used a thin disguise of legality to hide vast corruption.

  Gus’ last moments were spent pleading for Jessica’s life and pleading for her to be left alone. Jessica could only imagine the fear and intimidation Gus experienced that drove him to take the actions he did. He sacrificed the horses to keep the family safe.

  Jessica acknowledged there was a lot of information she had to make peace with as she started her trek back to her farm. The sun had started its downward slide to its night home behind the western ridges. The angle of the sun made it easier to see distant houses. The air was totally clear and still and the smoke from wood stoves and fireplaces connected to form a soft veil which hung just above the rooftops. Jessica felt she could see all of Kentucky, Tennessee, and Virginia. On a day like that, even the scars of distant coal mining and logging operations looked good.

  The dirt road back down the mountainside was easy to find and she decided to use it to speed her trip back to her house. The fastest path brought her to the road about a mile up from her driveway. She lengthened her stride and realized how good it felt to stretch her muscles.

  The house appeared after rounding the final bend and she hated what she saw. Two television vans and several other cars were lined up on the road. The therapeutic value of her hike vanished and she felt her defensiveness settle in. The only thought that made this intrusion bearable was that this story would begin to fade away as soon as the next big scandal broke. For now, she realized with resignation, she was the flavor of the week. If she gave them what they wanted, they would all go away soon enough.

  First one reporter’s head popped up and then others looked in her direction. She could hear the clatter of equipment readying and the sound reminded her of the battalions of soldiers in late night movies when ordered to ‘present arms.’ Her long strides shortened and a bunker mentality descended upon her as she trudged her way to her house.

  “Miss Wyeth! How does it feel to be back?”

  “Ms. Wyeth? Do your friends here call you ‘Tess’ or ‘Jessica?’”

  “Tell us about the arson on your barn. Is that why you ran away from here?”

  Question after question pelted her. Remembering Shea’s easy manner with the press and how they responded to it, Jessica tried hard to adopt his tactic.

  She held up her hand to gain some kind of control over the crowd. She felt no malice against them. They were just trying to do their jobs. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, her story was a pretty sensational one. It would probably be in the supermarket tabloids for some time to come.

  “Wait a second! Hold on everyone! I’ll try to answer your questions as best as I can.” Pausing, she had an idea. “But before I do answer anything, I would just like you to promise to leave me and the people of Perc alone as much as possible. I’ll answer the questions that you have so long as you respect my privacy and the privacy of my friends.” She looked around to emphasize her point. “Setting up camp in front of my house is not my idea of solitude.” The smile remained on her face and she caught the eye of as many people as she could to garner their implicit agreement. She doubted the tactic would work, but it was worth a try.

  There was a brief pause. The questioning resumed.

  “How has the town welcomed you?”

  “Truthfully, I have not had a chance to talk to anyone yet. I just got home a couple of nights ago and was enjoying the quiet. I am sure this news came as a shock to everyone here. I am just happy this whole thing is behind me.”

  “How can you be so sure? The John Doe that was indicted with Magnus Connaught has not been apprehended. How do you know he won’t come after you?”

  “This story is sensational enough without adding a lot of ‘what ifs’ to it. I heard he was seen crossing the border to Canada. If the authorities know that much about him, then it really shouldn’t take that long to find him.”

  The volley lasted about thirty minutes and questions were beginning to be repeated. She started to remove herself from the thicket of cameras and crewmen. “I really have answered everything. I...”

  “Jessica! Just one last question. What are your comments about the sheriff who turned you in wanting to buy this property for himself?” The reporter was one Jessica recognized from some Boston news broadcasts. She thought she remembered her name as Colleen something.

  She remembered Lainely’s reluctance to accept her offer on the farm. “No. I never heard that.”

  “What do you think of the history of this farm in that two of its past owners have been carried down from the mountain, dead?”

  “Wh-What? No, that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “It doesn’t? Do you feel that there was any mal
icious intent behind the sheriff’s actions in hunting you down?”

  A look of complete shock came over her face before she had a chance to hide it. Words no longer flowed smoothly out of her mouth, but sputtered. “What? N-no. I, um, I did not think anything like that. I’m sure the sheriff just thought he was doing his job.”

  It took more effort than she thought it would, but the reporters finally allowed her to enter her house. She was relieved when she heard several car engines start up and drive down the mountain. The hunters had found their quarry and now they were going back to their dens to file their stories. Thinking that the town was crawling with reporters, she decided to stay in. Taking a quick inventory, she saw she had enough odds and ends to make it through another day.

  The ringing of her telephone pierced the silence. She looked at it for a long time while she debated whether to answer it or not. Finally, its insistent clamoring wore her down.

  “Hello?”

  “Te—ah, Jessica! Jessica darling how are you?” Electra’s voice was so loud Jessica had to hold the phone away from her ear.

  “Electra! Hello! Thanks so much for the casserole and the clean house. That was really thoughtful of you.”

  “Really, dear. Think nothing of it.”

  “Actually, Electra. I’m kind of surprised to hear from you. Your note sounded like you wanted me to call you in a few days.”

  “Nonsense! You should have called me the moment you got in. You have really set this town on fire again, young lady. This place is just crawling with cars and people and it’s not even tourist season yet! Why, I can’t even go to the store without being hounded by some reporter!”

  “Electra, if you’re going to invite me to some crowded dinner party to be gawked at like a freak by some of your friends, forget it.”

  “Listen. If anyone is going to write about you it just has to be me. For all of the times I kept your name out of my gossip column, I will be damned if someone else is going to write up something on you.”

  “So you’re calling in a few chips, is that it?” If she was going to work back into the heart of Perc, Electra’s support was going to be key. “Okay. But no crowds.”

  “Wonderful! I’ll expect to see you in an hour. We’ll have a cocktail first and a long dinner. Very private. Just us. How does that sound?”

  “A private dinner sounds pretty good. Thanks, Electra.”

  She took a long hot bath and dressed in one of her new outfits from Boston. It was a pair of fawn colored pants made of a fine, buttery suede. A cashmere turtleneck in a slightly darker shade complemented it. She had lost a lot of weight during the past weeks, but the clothes still slipped gracefully around her body. For a moment, she thought of all the clothes which still lay squirreled away in restrooms and nooks around Boston. Even some small caches of money remained pocketed away. Maybe some homeless person will find them, she thought, someone who needs them—like the man who told her of Sarge. She looked in the mirror and saw deep dark circles of exhaustion ring her eyes and her hair would take a while to recover from the cheap dyes she used. The effort to make herself presentable could only hide so much.

  A slight headache pressed at her temples and she was beginning to regret accepting Electra’s invitation. Several cars and one news van remained parked in front of her house. As she suspected, one car followed her down the mountain road. If confronted, she was sure the driver would claim that it was just a coincidence that he was following her. Taking quick glances in her truck’s review mirror, she turned into Electra’s tree lined drive. The car continued down the main road. Slowly.

  The massive front doors flew open and the forever energized woman of the house rushed toward her guest.

  “My dear mysterious friend!” Electra threw her arms around her slightly stunned visitor and then held Jessica back at arm’s length. “My God, child. Just look at you! You look worse than a raccoon at a drag ball. What on earth have you done to your hair! Well, now come inside and tell me everything!”

  The main hall was festooned with pine ropes and huge red and gold ribbons. An enormous Christmas tree filled the hall and reached the entire two stories upward. The shock of it nearly threw Jessica off her feet. She had completely forgotten Christmas was upon her.

  “Oh, um, Merry Christmas, Electra.” The words stuttered out.

  “I have a little something for you. But first, I just want to sit down and you can tell me everything!”

  Electra corralled her into a small den off the front hallway. A fire was burning in the ornate tile hearth and a small table was set out with an array of hors d’oeuvres. She handed Jessica a glass of wine.

  “Electra. I’m sorry. I totally forgot that tomorrow is Christmas Eve.” She looked down at her open hands with embarrassment. “I don’t have anything for you. Yet.”

  “Nonsense. I think you have had more on your mind than to worry about tending to a Christmas list.” Electra paused and looked directly at Jessica. “Tess. Oh, I am sorry,” she sputtered over her misstep. “Calling you by your real name will take some getting used to, you know. Let me start again. Jessica, I have to be honest with you. I feel like I am meeting you for the first time. I know that a lot of people feel the way I do.” She barely skipped a beat. “Please tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

  “Electra. There is something that I want you and everyone in Perc to know up-front. I never wanted to lie to anyone or to hurt anyone by deceiving them. What I told you all about myself was true, but I thought I couldn’t tell anyone the whole story. I, well, I was just too afraid.”

  Electra nodded with understanding. “With just the little bit I’ve learned in the papers, I did piece together more of what you told us. My phone has been ringing off the hook with people wanting to know if I knew anything more about your situation. Up until last week, the town thought you had just taken some time away from here after your string of bad luck. No one, and I do mean not one person, even had a hint that something greater was going on with you.”

  “Well, you don’t think that even if I told anyone what was going on that they would have believed me, do you?”

  Electra considered the question and the tone. “No. I suppose you’re right. What we all want to know is how much of Tess White is in Jessica Wyeth?”

  “I ran away from my nightmare for years. I was a lot of different people, but Tess White was the most like who I really am. That’s why my past caught up to me. It was Rowdy Howe that started to put the pieces together after he saw me at your party. He was one of the men who broke into my house.”

  “Hmm. I had heard that somewhere. Well, the horse world is a pretty small one. A person of your talent doesn’t just appear one day. There were a lot of people curious about your past and Mr. Howe was a person who made it his business to know everyone.”

  “How did you know him?”

  “As I said, he made it his business to know everyone and attending my party was just that. Business.”

  Jessica sighed and shifted in her seat. “Yeah. I used to think I could hide from anything.”

  “What a horrible experience this has been for you!”

  “I just want to get this all behind me. The trial date is in a few months, and I have to keep my head down until then. I have gone from ‘fugitive’ to ‘key witness,’ but I think you can help me put my past as a ‘fugitive’ to rest.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. I have thought about what you said. I want to tell you my whole story. I think that once it’s printed, reporters will leave me alone. I mean, if the big scoop goes to you, then they have nothing more to hound me or anyone else about, right? Besides, with the trial looming, I won’t be able to talk about details of the ‘case’ anyway.”

  Electra looked at her guest from the corner of her eyes. “I am not really sure you understand my brothers and sisters in the press. Sometimes, the more information you give
them, the more they want.”

  Electra asked her for an interview and now Jessica was nearly begging her to do it. Fine. If that was the game she needed to play, so be it. “Electra, you’re right. I owe you. So many times you wanted to write about me in your columns. You even said you wanted to write about me yourself tonight on the telephone. If I give you the exclusive, we can all win.”

  The cat pounced. “Well, since you’re asking me to interview you, I think I’ll do just that.”

  They talked for hours. Electra had dinner served to them in the small den and they remained there undisturbed. The wine, food, and relaxed atmosphere worked on Jessica and she found herself talking more candidly about her life than she had intended. She had planned to talk about her experience as if she was talking to a reporter. The wine dissolved the line and Electra’s face swam before Jessica’s as a friend. They talked about everything from her family’s accident, to her relationship with Bridget and Gus and how Erin became disabled. Jessica had told as much as she could to Electra about her family and the years she spent running.

  Electra was the perfect listener. One moment, tears would fill her eyes and the next she was doubled over with laughter at how many disguises Jessica had put on. Electra’s eyes widened at Jessica’s tales of becoming an expert at changing her appearance in public rest rooms. She sat back in her chair, clearly impressed.

  “You must be quite taken with that attorney general fellow. I knew you trusted him a great deal to have me send him that lighter.”

  “Yes. I owe him a lot.”

  “You won’t try to fool an experienced matchmaker like myself would you? I have the distinct impression that it’s more than gratitude that makes you smile”

  “Well,” she paused, searching for the right words, “I really don’t know how I feel about Owen. He’s more of a brother to me than anything. Besides, it’s too soon and the situation was just too crazy to feel anything genuine.”

  Electra nodded. “I do understand how you feel. What you went through must feel like everything but real.”