In order to move on, she was going to have to forgive him – someday. Knowing he provided the map, so she could bring her little Charleston family back together, was a start. It was a seed to some semblance of humanity left in the man that had been Deuce McCall.
Blinking to keep her emotions under control, Jessie responded. “Yeah. They are going to start looking on Monday. If Deuce left us the truth then Sandy is in the woods somewhere in the Johns Island vicinity, a number of miles from that famous old Angel Oak. I’m not surprised, it seems fitting that Sandy would be near a place that has endured centuries of hurricanes.”
Jessie pulled the afghan tighter around her body as a chill passed over the balcony. “For outdoor burials they bring in a forensic anthropologist to look for depressions, new trees in old growth, disturbed soil, changes evident in the vegetation. They’ll find him,” she finished confidently.
Charlie spoke up. “Matt also mentioned some kind of ground penetrating radar, based on referral from forensic anthropologists. They set the whole area up in a grid and methodically start looking. Hopefully McCall’s memory was good…”
“That’d be the only good thing about him,” Steve muttered, shooting a hard look to Jessie.
So much healing to be done here, she thought, studying Steve’s face and noting how pale and drawn he appeared. This wasn’t just her battle. Steve’s best friend had just spiked a fever after having his spleen removed. Steve was clutching his beer so tightly now his knuckles were white. Jessie gave Charlie a little hug and then pulled herself up off the lounge chair. She dragged the afghan with her, and Maggie absently thought she resembled a bride with her train spread out elegantly behind her. Jessie wrapped her arms around Steve so the afghan surrounded him too. He grasped her waist and held on. There was nothing like it – hugs from friends when there were no words left to say.
When her voice returned, Jessie spoke to all of them.
“I’m going to Charleston myself on Monday. Dee’s coming with me. We bought a house on the beach. I’m staying until we find Sandy and bury him properly. I wish I did this years ago,” she added wistfully. “Prosecuted McCall, I mean. But…I didn’t have the courage, you guys. I’m really sorry. I was scared.”
Maggie reached across the deck and grasped Jessie’s hand. “It’s done now, Jessie. Let it go.”
“So many people got hurt.” It was a whisper. Jessie forced herself to look up at Kayla, who was snuggled underneath Paul’s arm across from her, leaning against the building. Kayla looked away, and concentrated on peeling a label off a beer bottle.
“At any rate,” Jessie rallied again, stronger now, “I can hunker down and read a bunch of scripts…maybe write some new music…while I wait for news. I need to make my peace with that city anyway.”
“Yes, you do,” Sue-Lyn said, smiling. “My cousin lives there and she is pissed, girl, that you never do any shows there!”
“Well,” Jessie responded with a grin, “I guess we should change that, then. After we find Sandy, we’ll do a show for him. We’ll start planning right away and do it in a month or so. And we’ll dedicate it to Rachel, and Terri too.” She prayed that it would not also be for Josh, for if…well, she wouldn’t allow her mind to go there. She would do the show for Josh, too, but would count on him being in the audience. She didn’t allow herself much time to think of him standing in the wings, as he did in the old days, but a little tinge of hope flung itself back in her face, buffeted by the presence of their friends on the balcony at her condo.
She smiled, breathed a little sigh of relief that the hard part of the evening’s conversation was over, and raised her cooler.
“A toast,” she said.
“What are we toasting?” Sue-Lyn asked. “The concert?”
“No,” Jessie smiled. “Friendships.”
Everybody cheered and glasses clinked, if not merrily, then at least with a sense of renewed hope and optimism. Glancing over at Charlie, who was sitting on the chaise lounger now with his spritely wife Jane beside him, but grinning up at Jessie, she almost laughed. For the first time in a very long while, she felt the gnawing ache in her stomach get replaced with a warm fuzzy feeling, and for once it wasn’t the drink or weed that accomplished it. She snuggled in under Stephen’s arm while they laughed and talked about Maggie’s show in New York and Steve’s latest round of auditions and Charlie’s new film and then, as the place cleared out and the bleary-eyed friends parted ways, she climbed into Dan’s sedan, Steve and Sophie by her side, and drove to the hospital.
***
Matt met them at the back door. It was quiet enough now that she could visit Josh in peace, and she needed to. Jessie was anxious to see him, and Zach and Kayla agreed it would be okay. To be honest, part of the reason they asked her not to come earlier, despite the media frenzy outside, was the fact they weren’t sure how Josh would receive her.
So when Steve texted Zach:
coming over can bring Jessie?
Zach’s response was:
yes but be brief
Josh was asleep so Jessie sank into the big chair vacated by Zach, who marched off with Steve and Sophie for a late night snack. She fixed her eyes on Josh, and then on the colorful get-well cards wallpapering the room, and tried not to feel. Instead, she curled herself up into a ball and watched Josh breathe, in and out, in and out.
Jessie wasn’t prepared for the flood of emotions charging over her at the sight of his vulnerability. Steve told her about the ring – now removed to a safe place in Josh’s home - and he also made it clear that Michelle had finally left permanently for L.A. But while Jessie quickly put Michelle from her mind, she was consumed with visions of Sandy lying underneath the dirt somewhere, and of Josh lying so still on this side of the earth, a victim of Jessie’s music as surely as Sandy years before.
Josh stirred, so Jessie stole quietly to his side and tentatively grasped his warm hand. She ran her fingers up and down his, and couldn’t help but think how different these hands were from Jacob’s. Jacob’s were calloused from years of fingering guitar strings; Josh’s were roughened from years of reining in horses. Sandy’s…from years before…were young and adventurous. Charlie’s were steady and sure, confident. They were all so different, all now a part of her in one way or another.
When she glanced up from Josh’s hands towards his face on the snowy pillow, Jessie was startled to see somber chocolate eyes peeking at her from beneath heavy eyelids.
“Is this a dream or is it really you?” he slurred.
Jessie leaned over the bed rail so Josh could see her more clearly. “Could be a nightmare.” She frowned.
His small grin warmed her heart.
“If it isn’t the famous Jessie Wheeler,” he murmured, tightening his fingers around hers. “’Bout time you came to see me. You like to keep a fella waiting.”
“Well, I had to run the gauntlet to get in here,” she smiled feebly, her eyes solemnly searching his. “You look like shit.”
A dark shadow crossed his face as he remembered the deep fear of McCall’s lure; of thinking the older man had hurt Jessie again.
“I was stupid,” he said. “I should have known better than to think McCall had you. You told me you weren’t going to see him again. I guess I thought maybe he got through Matt’s stone wall. I dunno.”
“That’s why you went with him? He told you he had me stashed away somewhere?”
Josh was silent for a second. He looked at her, leaning there over the bed rail, a picture of doom and gloom. “Of course,” he said. “No question.”
She smiled then, sadly, and ran her fingers over the stubble on his cheek. “Always the white knight,” she murmured softly. “You should stop trying to rescue me. Apparently I am detrimental to your health.”
“Only to my heart,” he said, the corners of his lips twitching. “My health will rebound.”
This sobered her even more. “It better, Josh Sawyer.”
“Sounds like there is an or else couched in th
ere somewhere.”
“There is. Or else…or else my life will mean nothing anymore. Without you in it. Harassing me. Antagonizing me.”
She leaned closer and pleaded with him. “Get better, okay? I mean it. I’m off to Charleston on Monday but I already expect the next time I’m in your company you will be bright eyed and bushy tailed. Got it?”
His eyes were fogging over as he fought to stay awake, but he wanted to know more. “Charleston? Jacob going with you?” Josh saw something flit across Jessie’s face that at first he didn’t understand. He narrowed his eyes. “What, Jessie?”
She took a deep breath and then simply said, “No. No Jacob.” She would not be telling him about Jacob’s fleeting thought the night McCall almost killed Josh. That would remain a deeply buried secret, as deeply buried as the secret of Josh’s real paternity. So many secrets, she thought. But she told herself there were reasons for them, and they were so this man before her would not be hurt any further.
“C’mere,” he whispered, and Jessie leaned forward and laid her smooth cheek against his scruffy one. He wrapped an arm weakly around her back but did not ask if she was okay. He knew she wasn’t okay.
They stayed that way for a few minutes, soaking up each other’s energy, until he felt a wetness on his cheek and let her pull away. He used his thumb to brush away one of her tears.
“Jessie,” he said softly. “You have come this far. You are the strongest person I know.” He was talking about Jacob, and she knew it. Somehow he discerned that the awful night at the base of the mountain was the cause of many endings for her. “You will get through this.”
“Promise?” she heard herself saying – hoping.
“You bet, little one.” Ah. What her father had called her. Instantly Jessie could feel her dad’s presence in the room, and it reminded her she could leave the control of her life up to the universe, that she didn’t have to drive all of the time.
Shortly, the others arrived back from the cafeteria and Steve managed a few jokes with Josh before their good friend drifted back into a restful sleep.
By the time Jessie left for Charleston on Monday Josh was pronounced officially on the mend. She was so grateful to God that when Dee picked her up at the condo she found Jessie on her knees in prayer on the floor by her bed. Dee knelt with her and they prayed together for victims of violence, and for hope and faith for others when things got unbearable.
And then they left for Charleston to lay a boy to rest and, along with him, a long buried tale of secrets and hurts.
***
Chapter Thirty-Six
In South Carolina Dee had purchased a Folly Beach condo with easy access to the area where local investigators would be searching for Sandy’s remains. It was about a half hour drive to the Angel Oak, and the area where supposedly Sandy’s remains were was about ten minutes past that. The condo was a pleasant roomy 2,000 square feet with two floors, a short walk to the beach or the boardwalk, and a private pool if the Charleston summer got too hot and if Jessie preferred privacy over the public beach. There was a spacious porch facing the beach, too, so Jessie felt at home right away. She had spent the happy part of her childhood on Prince Edward Island beaches, and met Sandy and Rachel on Folly Beach by the fishing pier, so all those years of feeling fear associated with Charleston were easier to bear. Dee’s eye was for comfort, too, and so she chose a cozy spot in a relaxing cool summer palette of yellows and creams, with a fireplace, oak hardwood floors, nine-foot ceilings, and large bedrooms upstairs with private baths.
Matt and Susanne travelled with the ladies. Matt wanted to keep an eye on the investigation and so he spent a fair amount of time with the local police agencies coordinating the search. Susanne was an asset to Jessie and Dee, and for once Jessie felt like her security was an unobtrusive friend as opposed to typical bodyguards. The designated driver, Susanne was an alert but easy to get along with good sport, and she quickly became a good friend to both Jessie and Dee.
Flying into Charleston in the Keating jet, not keen on flying publicly just yet because she was still in refuge and retreat mode, Jessie had thought the rivers far below looked like snakes. She remembered the sometimes apprehensive feeling of living in a city with alligators in the rivers and snakes nesting in the fields, gardens and marshes, yet she rarely saw any. Instead, she had stumbled upon the biggest snake of all – Deuce McCall. Consumed with a plethora of mixed emotions as she studied the city from the air, Jessie initially had to convince herself that coming to Charleston was a good idea. But there was so much to love about the place – its enthralling old live oaks dripping with Spanish moss, the bustling market in the historic downtown where vendors sold sweetgrass baskets and tasty red rice recipes, a history that both united and divided the United States, playful dolphins frolicking in the Cooper River. The architecture alone – a muted pastel palette of homes and buildings often bordered by charming hand forged iron filigree - was reason to spend time wandering Charleston’s historic streets.
Long ago memories of Rachel and Sandy, resurrected to the front of her mind again these last few years, were haunting her nightly. Evening silhouettes of patient fishermen on the pier, generous kind locals who referred to her as Ma’am, guitarists on Folly Beach…it seemed there was a memory around every corner. Jessie’s coping strategy had her focusing on the old friends with joy and love, and on remembering the good times. This meant visiting the happy places in the city, like the beach, and the coffeehouses and jazz clubs they hung out in on lazy Sunday afternoons. She stayed away from Tradd Street as well as Deuce’s old club, the Renegade, thinking she might face them someday when she felt strong enough which, she freely admitted, might be never.
On the second day, after a refreshing early morning dip in the pool, Jessie donned a comfy brown cotton sundress with colorful embroidery at the hem, and pink and green flip flops, and climbed into the white Lexus SUV Charles bought for the little group. Susanne pointed the car up north and then west towards the Angel Oak. They decided to visit the Angel Oak on their way to the search site, mostly because it was a happy place for Jessie in the old days, and also because to her the historic tree somehow meant Sandy wasn’t alone underneath the dirt all these years –perhaps someone, somewhere, was looking out for him.
The oak, estimated to be at least five hundred years old, boasted a limb about ninety feet long and almost twelve feet in circumference. Although it derived its name from the estate of Justis and Martha Angel, local folklore suggested that ghosts of former slaves were known to appear as angels around the tree. The tree had survived hurricanes, and was known as one of the oldest living things in America. It was worth a visit to the sprawling branches, many of which were resting on the ground, secured by staff for their protection.
Wandering around the tree, sweating from the intense damp heat of the swampy low country and batting at mosquitos, Jessie let her mind wander back to her Charleston friends. Rachel had squealed with delight when she first saw the mammoth tree, while Sandy stood humbly underneath its canopy and officially asked Jessie to be his girlfriend. Jessie still had a photograph of the three of them there, taken by a thoughtful tourist. Reminding herself to dig the picture out, Jessie reverently brushed a finger over a branch’s rough bark. She thought Sandy’s ghost likely hung out there with the former slaves, maybe hoping she would someday come back to find him. Perhaps because his presence seemed so strong here, the oak beckoned her, called to her. She wanted to melt down underneath it and sit for hours on end. It was a charming old tree as enchanting as the city itself, and it wound its spirit in and around Jessie’s soul.
Making a mental note to come back and spend more time here, in simple admiration of the old tree’s innate ability to survive, period, Jessie joined Dee and Susanne at the car and they drove down the tree-lined road to the forested area Deuce had pinpointed on his map.
It had turned out the land they were headed to was the site of the original McCall rice plantation. Deuce’s family hadn’t owned ac
reage there in years, but it made sense he would choose to bury Sandy betwixt and between a heritage inextricably bound with Deuce’s own sense of self-esteem and pride. Perhaps he was sticking it to the current owners, or perhaps he simply felt the land still belonged to him, somehow. Jessie would never know. The owners would be mortified and yet strangely fascinated if Jessie Wheeler’s teenage beau had indeed been laid to an uneasy rest on their property. Perhaps the area would become another stop on the tourist route, just past the Angel Oak and not far from the Charleston Tea Plantation, a place with alligators in its pond and snakes winding amongst the tea plants.
Today was only the second day of the search, and Deuce was not terribly specific about exactly where he buried Sandy. So when the gals arrived they found a grid formed with string, and Matt in the center of the organized framework. He took Jessie by the elbow, asking her to watch her step, and they wandered around out of the way of the curious investigators. Matt pointed out the possible changes in vegetation here and there and Jessie simply nodded as she took it all in. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering if the forensics team would find more than one body, but in her heart she didn’t really think so. She thought she was likely Deuce’s only obsession, based on the things he’d said to her, and in the end her instincts were right on.
Sandy’s remains were found a week later, not mummified as they would have been had his body been tightly bound at the time, but instead decomposed from the air pockets present in the shallow grave. What remained was taken to the lab for examination, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the remains would prove to be the right size and shape for an eighteen-year-old Caucasian male. Charles claimed Jessie’s old beau after sufficient expedited testing, and a proper burial was planned.
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