No Greater Love

by Susan Rodgers

  So much for enjoying seeing Jessie on stage again, Charlie thought, echoed by Steve.

  “Uhhh,” Jessie groaned, sinking further into Charlie’s casual embrace. She really was suffering, whether she acknowledged it to herself or not. It was like waiting for major surgery. You couldn’t hurry it up if you wanted it to, and still you knew it was going to hurt.

  Charlie hugged Jessie casually and kissed her temple. “No secrets,” he said simply. “None. You hear me?”

  She closed her eyes. “Yes. Fine.”

  For the millionth time, Stephen wished McCall would just show up. They could shoot him down just like they shot the bad guys in Drifters. An old fashioned gunfight, that’s what they needed to beat this psycho down.

  The girls sauntered back in then, excited over their T-shirts but sobering quickly once they saw the nervous expressions on everyone’s faces. Then Jacob and John Paul were back, edgy and eager as well, only for an entirely different reason. Jessie caught herself thinking Jacob didn’t get it at all – that the show was not about him, at least not for the reasons he thought.

  She leaned forward and placed sweaty hands on her knees, then Charlie gave Jessie a shove which propelled her out of the chair’s comfortable sanctuary. It had made a good hiding place. Jessie moseyed out of the room with Charlie and Stephen on either side. The guys wanted to escort her to the sound check, if only for the opportunity to ensure she could handle this.

  At the side of the stage, Stephen gave her a big hug.

  “I miss him,” she whispered in his ear, her eyes beseeching his. “Please bring him to the show, Steve. Please.”

  He released her and placed a hand flat against her cheek. His expression was sobering. “I’ll try, Jess,” he lied outright. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Somewhat reserved, Charlie watched the exchange. Then he, too, wrapped his arms around Jessie. “Do you want us to come see you before the show?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Nah. You know what it’s like, Charlie. Pure chaos. I’ll see you at the after party, okay?”

  “All righty then,” he said. “Break a leg, Jessie Wheeler.”

  “Hope not,” she mumbled softly with a small wistful smile as she turned and walked up a few black metal steps and onto the stage. A technician handed her the Gibson and she stepped lightly downstage and faced the microphone head on. She took a deep breath.

  “Hi, Jack,” she said loudly, adopting yet again another persona. “Where do you want me to start?”

  Charlie and Steve watched for a while, and when they left Jessie didn’t even blink an eye. She had the ability to shut things off completely when she needed to, and this was one of those times. By focusing only on the sound check and the music, by wearing the blinders that cut off her peripheral vision, she could at least dole out her nerves and anxiety in manageable parcels. If that started to fail, she would reach again for the Jim Beam, the Baileys, the weed, even just cigarettes again – anything to channel the anxiety elsewhere.

  Sauntering back down the hall to gather Sophie and Jane, Steve and Charlie discussed the short exchange about Josh.

  “Man,” Charlie couldn’t help but saying, “What is it about that guy? He fucking kills me.”

  “Stay focused, Charlie,” Steve growled.

  “Fine,” Charlie answered, his temper abating briefly. “But I just don’t get what she sees in him.”

  “Love is blind. Just ask Deuce McCall.”

  “Love is fucked,” Charlie said.

  “Sometimes. Maybe.”

  They both stopped short when they heard Jessie start to sing Josh’s Song. Both wondered how she could ever get through that song live, here now as well as tonight in front of thousands of fans who would not let her leave the stage without singing the deeply loved tune.

  Charlie leaned against the wall outside her dressing room and listened, his head down. Steve sighed again and ran his hands through his hair, pacing in a small circle. Inside, Jacob was reclining in the comfy chair vacated by Jessie. Sophie exclaimed, “Oh I love this song” upon hearing the first chords, and then they all quieted in order to better hear its hopeful lyrics.

  Jacob stared at his feet and thought about the day, how extraordinary it already felt to be a part of something so incredible that might – would likely, in fact – change the course of his life. And he decided, because he was a survivor, to pursue evasive tactics and focus on that, on his career, instead of on the heartache he discerned in Jessie’s voice as she sang her song for Josh.

  Because to Jacob, and to all of them in fact, Josh was still a threat – to Jacob because he loved Jessie but she loved Josh more than she loved Jacob; to Charles and Dee and Steve and Charlie and even Matt because they worried about how much she still cared for Josh; and to Deuce, because he knew that he loved Jessie the most, and so there was no room for Josh.

  And then, the song ended.

  That night Jessie Wheeler took the stage at the Rogers Arena twenty-two months after the cancellation of her second show because Deuce McCall had beat the crap out of her for loving Josh Sawyer. Only this time, the show was in some ways a ruse, and when he came crawling out of his hole her stalker had no way of knowing he was the fly, and Jessie Wheeler, the spider.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The show went exactly as planned – Matt and Charles did their jobs well. Neither attended the after party. Instead, seeking out the face of McCall, they studied video after video of excited and animated concert–goers. The men had the assistance of facial recognition technology. It worked by taking snapshots of a patch of skin on each suspected person who entered the gates of Rogers Arena who, in any way, might resemble the man they sought. Using algorithms to turn the patch into a mathematical measurable space, the system was designed to distinguish any lines, pores and the actual skin texture of its subject. It would be matched with old driver’s licenses or other U.S. or Canadian Government identification. It was an imperfect system. For instance, if there was a significant glare on glasses McCall chose to wear, or if the lighting was poor, the system would not necessarily work. The men used it as a backup more than anything, hiring keen young facial recognition experts to process the samples. There was no sign of their target, though. If McCall was in attendance at the concert, he was a quiet observer, nothing else.

  The after party was also a quiet well-controlled affair. Jessie made the rounds before spending the rest of the evening in the company of her good friends, who were humbled and proud to have been a part of her welcome home show despite the urgency and underlying fear of the event. Sophie hooked an arm under Jessie’s – she is an amazing woman, and a good role model, thought Jessie, remembering how she had hurt the young woman after the last show when Jessie was desperate for a connection to Josh and used Stephen for that purpose. This night, it was nice to have Sophie by her side as a kind and forgiving anchor. Soon Maggie, Carter and Sue-Lyn, who all flew in that day just to see Jessie sing live again, swooped up Jessie in happy embraces. To her surprise, Michelle was there, too, in the company of Kayla mostly so as to avoid any awkward moments with Jessie, although each eyed the other surreptitiously all evening. Jacob was on an adrenalin high and in the end Jessie couldn’t help but get caught up in all the hype and happiness of her friends.

  At home in the dark somber quiet of his media room, Josh streamed the entire show live. He sat through almost the entire performance leaning on his right elbow on the arm of the leather couch, pinching his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger or rubbing his stubbly cheek. His feet were propped up on the old trunk he was using as a coffee table of sorts, and he kept switching those feet back and forth. Josh had microwave-popped a bowl of popcorn, more out of nerves than any desire to munch on it, and so it sat uneaten next to a glass of orange juice.

  All things considered, he got through most of the show okay. But, like everyone else in the building, he was overwhelmed watching Jessie sing his song from a high wooden stool in the center
of the stage. He could feel her solitude as she finished the ballad and turned her head to the side. Josh knew that was the moment between the place she went to in order to get through the song, and the reality of her world, which was at times too painful to bear. He saw that transition as clearly as if the thoughts were his own, and his heart ached as he watched her close her eyes, breathe, and struggle to stay in control, the Gibson carefully settled on her lap. Then he watched as she swallowed, and forced her eyes open. She was staring at a place on the stage - counting, he thought. And then, as if she physically switched on a light, her head snapped back to the front to accept the applause, and she stood and bowed.

  Watching Jessie wave to the crowd, Josh regretted for the millionth time what he said to her beside his pool. He didn’t know she left the tickets, that Michelle had found them on the table and was at the show tonight. Michelle had told him she was going out to have a drink with friends. Josh knew he hurt Jessie that day, but he still felt what he said was necessary - vital even - for his own sanity.

  So if that was true, then why did watching her on stage suck so much? Naively, he thought it had nothing to do with how he felt about Jessie. Instead Josh figured it was about how he knew she felt about him. Josh closed his eyes and replayed that night so long ago after Agassiz, when she had stared so deeply inside him, and held him, and asked him to promise her - to promise her - he would not forget her words to him. Always and forever, that was it. In his heart Josh knew they would love each other to the end of days and maybe even beyond that. But circumstances – life – had gotten in the way.

  He couldn’t stem the angst of the last few months any longer. Josh hung his head in his hands and succumbed to his grief, before Michelle got home and wondered sarcastically what could possibly be bothering him on this night; on the night Jessie Wheeler reasserted herself on the worldwide public stage - and thus put herself at risk – once more.

  There was one other person watching Jessie’s return to the public eye with as much care as Josh Sawyer and that was, of course, Deuce McCall. Only instead of crying with the heartache of love and loss, he was celebrating. For, as Jessie had predicted, he was already plotting. First he would call and tell her to meet him so he could drive her to a newly rented apartment in nearby Burnaby, almost under the nose of Charlie’s penthouse. He would assess her there, on the second floor, and see just where she stood and where she was willing to go with him. For in his heart Deuce knew she loved him too, and so why wouldn’t Jessie want to start spending time with him again?

  He could hardly wait – Deuce ached for Jessie in many of the same ways Josh did. The only difference was - an important fact Deuce either chose not to see or just simply ignored – Jessie did not ache back.

  ***

  He made her wait two long agonizing days. And then the call came in, just as Jessie was rushing back into her sunny condo to grab a pre-packed bag of workout pants and runners she would need after her session with Jacob and Charles at the Keating Studio on Robson that day. Yanking the cell out of her pocket with one hand and grabbing the fitness bag with the other, hurrying because Matt was waiting downstairs with the Audi, Jessie didn’t bother checking the caller ID. She stopped short when she heard the familiar grating voice, though, and then she dropped the fitness bag and pushed a speed dial button on the phone in her coat pocket to signal Matt that Deuce was on the line.

  “My dear, dear Jessie, I can’t tell you how nice it was to watch you in action again the other night. I’ve missed you,” Deuce hummed with all sincerity as Jessie’s heart hit the ground. She remembered hearing that gravelly voice, a deep brook flowing over jagged rocks, as it accompanied some of the worst, most horrendous memories of her life.

  “Deuce,” she croaked.

  “I need to see you,” he said in a throaty growl that terrified her to the core.

  She had thought she could do this. But really? Could she? Jessie slumped against the wall and sank down to the ice-cold floor. Deuce wasn’t wasting any time. His calls were always extremely short because he did not want to chance anyone listening in. He had found her cell number easily – a little bribery, a little software, and bingo, he was in.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Fine. Where?”

  “Go down to East Hastings tonight at eight. Hang around the door of Sylvester’s building. I’ll come find you. And Jessie…”

  She could hear the elevator whirring.

  “What?” she breathed.

  “No Matt. Or Dan or Ulysses. Make an excuse and get away. Or…”

  “Or what, Deuce?” She held her breath. Maybe now he would tell her who he was going to hold over her head. Would it be Jacob?

  “You know,” was all he said, simply and definitively. “You decide if you want to take that chance, my dear girl.”

  “Okay,” she acquiesced. “I hear you.”

  “I know you do,” he said, and then he was gone, just as the elevator door slid open and Matt emerged, red faced and worried.

  He bent down in front of her, his tan linen blazer opening enough for her to see the gun belt he wore with a Smith and Wesson pistol nestled snugly inside.

  “Jessie?” he questioned gently, using an index finger to tilt her chin up to face him.

  “Game on, Matt,” was all she could manage, and Matt’s expression hardened. He could already sense her pulling away, trying to escape them, to deal with McCall on her own. No doubt she had just been roundly threatened. His eyes narrowed.

  “Where and when?” he asked with a rigidity that frightened her as she sat immobile on the floor and gazed at his amorphous shape through cloudy lenses. He gripped her chin more firmly, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  She felt her lips move but Jessie was too afraid to speak, for if she did, and then someone got hurt…Josh…Oh God…don’t let it be Josh. She closed her eyes, and then inched her face sideways out of Matt’s grasp. He read her fear but pushed it away. He had a job to do.

  “Jessie. Look at me. This has to end. One way or the other, we are ending this thing. We!” He was almost shouting at her.

  “Tonight,” she heard herself whispering. “Tonight, Matt. But he can’t know. Please Matt – Deuce can’t know I told you!” Jessie was ashamed of herself, whimpering like this. But the image of that dagger thrusting in and out of Sandy’s belly and chest, and the sound of it – thwunk thwunk thwunk thwunk thwunk thwunk, six godawful times, it was more than she could bear.

  Seemingly from the end of a long dark tunnel, she could hear Matt’s voice as he yanked her to her feet.

  “Enough, Jessie. Pull yourself together. You can do this, you hear me? You are not alone.”

  And that was her mantra throughout the rest of the long day, while she worked at the studio with Jacob, and with Charles’ junior sound engineer, whose presence puzzled Jacob but which Jessie understood because Charles was now in a private meeting with Matt and his security team. I am not alone, she repeated all that long day, including during her forty minutes on the elliptical later, with iTunes rallying her spirits as she exercised.

  They had decided no one else would know when Deuce called – only Charles, and Matt’s team. No one else need worry. The others – Jacob, Dee, Charlie and Steve – all thought they would be part and parcel to the operation when the time came. They thought wrong – for their own protection, Matt said.

  Matt was careful. He was allowing Jessie use of her red Mustang, which she would park on Hastings near Arnie’s graffiti’d apartment building. Jessie would carry a bag in which Matt had carefully concealed a bug so he could listen in, as well as a GPS unit to help identify her location. Weeks earlier they had decided they would let one session with Deuce play out in order to ascertain his plan for the future. That would give them more time and some direction before setting up a proactive strike against him. Jessie, Matt and Charles had discussed at length what might transpire and how Jessie should deal with possible scenarios.

  One, of course, was he would expect her to have sex with h
im.

  “I can handle Deuce,” she had said stubbornly. “It’s not like it will be the first time.”

  Which inserted its own blunt daggers into Charles and Matt’s hearts. Both insisted she get out before that could happen. She had turned her head away. She knew that to be impossible. This one time, she would have to give in. She had to buy some time, only she was not alone, she kept telling herself, and so this would all go down much quicker than her failed attempt to deal with Deuce a few summers ago.

  That night, Jessie was alone as she prepared herself to meet Deuce. Jacob was out exploring Vancouver’s trendy Kitsilano neighborhood with JP and Katrine. Jessie got out of it by begging exhaustion, although earlier in the day she had been planning to go with them.

  Then, moments before Jessie headed to the elevator, an unannounced visitor threw a wrench into the evening’s covert operation. Sophie was out shopping with Jane, so Steve was on the prowl looking for company. Maybe my intuition kicked in, he later said.

  Jessie heard the elevator click just as she was grabbing the bag with the GPS and bug in it.

  Damn that concierge, she thought, knowing it wouldn’t be Matt, as he would already be in place with his team. The concierge tended to let certain people up without buzzing them in – Steve was one, Charlie another, and of course Matt, Charles and Dee as well.

  She was pale when Steve nonchalantly sauntered into the condo, hands in his pockets. He was whistling, but stopped when he spied her frenzied look.