Forty-Four Box Set, Books 1-10 (44) (173 page)

“The position of the bodies, the footprints at the top, the bloody rock all tell the story of what happened out there, Abby. It tells the story that Richardson was hoping would get lost in the fire. The story he thought would get buried under the ash. The story he now pretends not to remember.”

“You think he’s faking his memory loss?”

“I do. The doctors aren’t so sure about that, but I think he thought he could make it work for him. A horrific brain injury, who would doubt him? It was all perfect. Almost perfect.”

Bob Willis let out a long sigh and then stood up.

“What’s going to happen to him now?” I said.

“We’ll keep him here until he’s ready to be transferred to county jail. Look, I gotta go, Abby. Call me if you have any questions. And thank you again for all your help.”

I wasn’t sure what help he was referring to, but I nodded anyway.

I sat there for a while, lost in everything he had just told me. After a few minutes I got up to leave.

I stepped out into the hall and saw Bob Willis, two Sheriff’s deputies, and another man coming out of Richardson’s room. The lieutenant and the deputies headed to the elevator. But the other man stayed behind. He lingered there for a moment, still looking sad but not as dark as before. He began to fade.

“Wait,” I called, running over to him. “Wait.”

He looked at me and I realized he was no longer dragging himself along the ground.

“Why didn’t you just let him die out there? Why did you want me to find him?”

“I don’t care about him or what happens to him,” he said. “Whatever they do, it won’t bring me back.”

“Why then?”

“I wanted my family to know what really happened out there. Especially my daughter. I wanted her to know I went down swinging.”

I nodded.

“Thank you,” he said.

And then the ghost of Bradley Peterson disappeared.

CHAPTER 61

I was still trying to wrap my head around it the next morning. I replayed the visions, looking for clues that I might have missed but no matter how hard I scratched at my memory, I still came up with nothing. I basically knew nothing about the men except that one appeared to be dead and the other clung to life. The focus of the dreams had been on finding them. Like everyone else, I had assumed they had fallen.

I was lost in all of it when I got a text from Ty, telling me I should check the news.

***

The tide had turned.

Instead of being the local hero, I was now the town goat.

Well, I would have settled for the town, but the story had quickly jumped from local to state to national, landing on the AP wire, CNN, and FOX.

It was big news. How a student/cook/barista/psychic had had a dream. How that dream had led her to rescue a man out in the woods in the middle of a wild fire. And how that man had killed his friend.

Television anchors, morning talk show hosts, and radio personalities all discussed the story nonstop. Some wondered what the point was of a psychic finding a missing hiker, but not being able to “see” that the man was a cold-blooded murderer. Some criticized me for putting the lives of the rescue team in jeopardy. Others said that Thomas Richardson should have been left out in the woods to burn.

“This is a perfect example of why you don’t mess with Ouija boards,” I heard one woman on the radio say while I was driving to Back Street. “Seriously, you’re just asking for trouble when you swim in those waters. If you ask me, they should all be licensed and regulated. And most of all, held accountable. What this woman did was plain irresponsible.”

“Good point,” the host said.

I flipped it off.

I tried to ignore the negative attention, but it wasn’t easy. Reporters started hanging around Meg’s and the café, wanting interviews. It soon became a disruption and I decided it was best for everyone concerned if I took a few days off. Mostly I sat around the house and peered out the window at all the cars parked in front. Ty managed to sneak me out once and we went for a drive out to Prineville.

“If they’ve heard of you in Prineville, well, I don’t know what we’ll do.” He busted up laughing and then turned serious. “Don’t worry, Abby. It’s just a matter of time. You’ll get through this.
We’ll
get through this.”

It was great to have Ty on my side. When I felt the lowest, he was always there to make it better. Sometimes he would even sing that old Bob Marley song that said everything would be all right.

As it turned out, every little thing didn’t turn out all right, but the story did begin to lose steam to the point where I was able to return to work. I got through it, although not always without incident.

During a morning shift at Meg’s, a group of realtors sat around having a few laughs at my expense. I could see the veins in Hector’s neck bulging as they talked loudly.

“It’s not a big deal,” I whispered, hoping he would let it go. “It comes with the territory.”

“It is a big deal. It’s wrong, Abby. You saved a man’s life. And you helped bring a murderer to justice. You brought the truth out. They’re idiots for not seeing that.”

I shrugged.

“It’s been my experience that people only see what they want to see,” I said.

More laughter came from the group and I glanced over and saw one of the men holding a glass up in his hand, pretending it was a crystal ball.

“I see the house on Lava Rocks Drive selling at full market value,” he said. “No, wait! I mean, I see a fire burning it to the ground! No, wait, that’s just the hash browns.”

Alberto suddenly appeared behind them and they quieted down.

“Not another word,” he said in a low voice. “Or from now on you can get your breakfast at Shari’s.”

I smiled. I was going to miss this place.

CHAPTER 62

Although I did my best not to read the comments at the end of the online news stories, I did keep up with the latest on Thomas Richardson. He had been charged with first degree murder and hired a top criminal defense attorney out of Portland, who told reporters that his client still couldn’t remember anything about that day on the trail.

There were stories, mostly speculation if not just gossip, about the motive. Some suggested that the friends and business partners had argued over whether to accept a lucrative offer and sell their company. Rumors also circulated that Richardson was having an affair with Peterson’s wife.

“Let it go, Abby,” Ty said one night while I was sitting in front of the laptop. “C’mon, come over here and watch monkeys take over the world with me.”

“You mean apes,” I said.

“What’s the difference?”

“I think monkeys have tails.”

“Thanks, Jane Goodall.”

I sat next to him on the sofa, leaning my head on his chest and taking in a long, sweet breath. He smelled of sun and sweat and rosemary and pine trees.

“Hey, speaking of thanks, thanks for working so hard on the yard today.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s one of my new jobs. It comes with the ring.”

I held up my left hand and we both admired the sparkling of the diamond for a moment.

“I got a good deal,” I said. “Jewels and hard labor.”

“I got a good deal, too.”

CHAPTER 63

Seeing him standing there hit me hard. I shivered in the sun and one of those full body chills ran right through me like a river flowing toward a waterfall.

As I watched Jesse walk in my direction, my heart pounded in my ears.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Jesse,” I said, his name tumbling over my lips in a breathy heave.

I paused, soaking in his smile before reaching up and hugging him, not letting go.

“C’mon now,” he said, laughing a little. “It hasn’t been that long. I’m sorry I haven’t been around, but I’ve been busy.”

I stared at him, trying to get a reading on that night. If it had been a dream, if it had been real, if we had really been together. He seemed happy and relaxed and I couldn’t tell a thing.

“You better keep moving or you’ll cramp up,” he said.

We walked around the track once without saying much. A few runners showed up, so I guided us to the path that led down the hill to the Culinary Institute. It would be quiet over there now and a good place to talk.

“So you must know that I helped save a murderer,” I said.

He looked over at me.

“I guess it doesn’t only apply to relief pitchers.”

“What?”

“That you’re only as good as your last save. Seems like they’re giving you a hard time.”

“It’s not so hard,” I said, smiling.

The wind picked up, groaning through the trees, sounding like ghosts. It was still summer, but not today. Bend was in that cool period of August, where we saw a glimpse of what was to come.

“You knew about him, didn’t you?” I said.

“You mean the guy killing his friend?”

I nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “The dead one told me while you were waiting for the chopper.”

“You could have given me a heads up, you know. It would have saved everyone some time.”

“It wouldn’t have made any difference,” Jesse said. “You would have just gotten wrapped up in the wrong things, trying to prove his guilt, like with that tattoo man. You did your job here. You brought him out. The rest is not for you to say. You’re like a doctor in that way. When someone’s brought into the ER, it’s the doctor’s job to save them. Whoever or whatever they’ve done is irrelevant.”

We fell into silence again and I thought back to the mysterious stranger with the tattoo on his right hand who I had encountered last winter. His energy had been powerful and dark but I had been wrong about him. He hadn’t killed Charlie Modine’s wife. He wasn’t evil. David even thought he might have been some sort of angel, but I still wasn’t sure what he was.

“Look, Craigers, I’ve come by to apologize.”

My heart seized.

“Apologize? For what?”

I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t dare look away.

“For kissing you. I was out of line.”

Out of line?
A voice screamed inside my head.

“What do you mean?” I said, steady and cool.

He grimaced and we started walking again. More voices, loud and unruly.
Out of line for that long kiss in the woods or out of line for the kiss on the bed, before we melted together in a pile of smoldering ash?

“I just, I don’t know,” he said. “I couldn’t pretend anymore. And I couldn’t let you walk down the aisle without you knowing how I really feel. How much I…”

He paused.

“How much you what?”

“How much I wanted, needed to be with you.”

He gazed into my eyes.

“Jesse, look, I—”

“Don’t say anything, Craigers. I know it’s a problem. There’s not an easy answer here. He’s a decent guy. More than that. I can see that he loves you and that you love him. It’s who you should be with. My mind knows all that, it really does, but my heart…”

He sighed when I took his hand.

“The last thing I want to do is cause you any grief,” he whispered.

We walked down the hill, past the school building, through the trees. I didn’t let go of his hand, and didn’t let go of his heart, open, raw, and exposed.

“You know you’re going to have to come back up this hill,” he said, looking behind us. 

“See. There you go again with that slow information of yours. You could have said something about ten minutes ago, when we were up at the top.”

He picked up a pinecone and threw it high in the air, catching it behind his back. And then did it again and again. I sighed, leaned against a tree, and watched him.

“I hate thinking about all that lost time in high school,” he said. “All those nights we could have been together. It haunts me.”

He looked over at me and tucked his bottom lip under his teeth like he did when he was a kid. The cone crashed to the ground. I turned away, not wanting him to see the tears. I wiped my nose on my shirt and started walking away. But he caught up and pulled me around.

He leaned over and we kissed again, his sweet and tender lips sinking into mine, tasting of ash and smoke and fire and a love too strong to ever die. I closed my eyes, breathing him in, losing myself in his arms.

But when I opened them again, I was alone.

I walked through the woods, back up to the track, thinking about Jesse.

And then about Ty.

Realizing that I was utterly and completely lost.

CHAPTER 64

On my break at Back Street, I made the call to Dr. Krowe and asked if I could stop by.

“Of course,” he said. “But I certainly hope that you’re not taking any of this ridiculous criticism seriously, Abby. You’re a hero for finding that man and bringing him out of the fire.”

“Oh, no, it’s not about all that,” I said. “It’s something else.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I’m finished with my last appointment at three. Can you make it over to the office then?”

“I’ll be there.”

I walked back inside and noticed that Lyle was again over at the shelf in the corner, rearranging his new hot chocolate display. At the beginning of the summer, Mike had agreed to let him sell it at the café and people went crazy for it. He had a few drinks up on the menu and had just recently started selling his mixes. Mike insisted that he make everything in the little kitchen in the back to comply with health department regulations, but he was letting Lyle keep all of the profits.

“Hey, Lyle,” I said. “That
Diablo Caliente
is definitely my new favorite.”

An old Joan Baez song was streaming through the speakers.

“Here, can you give this one to Kate?” he said, handing me a bag. “I’ve been meaning for her to try the
Mayan Madness
. I made it in her honor.”

I had no idea what that meant. I didn’t even think Lyle knew her that well.

“She’s coming back in a few days,” I said. “I’ll leave in on her pillow.”