Finding Jessie: A Mystery Romance (23 page)

“You and me both,” Jessie said. She looked at Sam. “I know I’ve told you a
lot
of lies to cover up that I don’t know who I am. And I’m so sorry for it. Do you believe me, Sam, about all of
this
?”

“Yes. I really do.”

“So, why do you believe me
now
?” she asked.

“Because it is the only thing that begins to make sense of the mystery that is you.”

Chapter Sixteen

Linda analyzed, “So, in that one sentence of his, you learned your probable first name, or at least, what they called you behind closed doors. And you were terrified because you were developing breasts and even more ripe for his abuse.”

Jessie nodded. “I was scared to get pregnant by him.”

“You were sexually abused during your captivity.”

“Yes. And his wife or girlfriend was equally abusive. But please, I don’t want to explain every detail.”

“I’m not going to make you relive that. This is about your identity quest. Have you been through it with another therapist?”

“In bits and pieces to various help hotlines and a couple of walk-in clinics.”

“Did it help your mental state?”

“I don’t know. I think I just really want to know who I am and deal with the PTSD later.”

“Sam is worried you are going to leave. I want you to please stay so we can sort out your identity issues and the rest should fall into place,” Linda said.

“I don’t want to leave. Sam makes me feel…cherished. I love the way I am with him. He’s gentle and kind—the sweetest lover I’ve ever had. The best friend, too. When we fall asleep, he holds me and I feel protected. I only get scared when he lets go of me in the night or when I lie about something and I have to face him about it.”

Tears sprang to Sam’s eyes. “Jessie. I’m sorry. I had no idea what you were dealing with. I was selfish.”

Jessie looked at him. “No, you weren’t. Except for the stupid lies I have told you, our life together is amazing. You haven’t done anything wrong, Sam. I’ve only been on the couch crying for a week because I need this one answer in order to go on with my life.”

“Neither have you done anything wrong,” Linda said.

“Actually, I have.”

“None of that was your fault. You were a child. A victim,” Sam said.

“Sam, Linda…I probably killed one of them.”

“What?” they both said at the same time.

“Who did you kill?”

“The one who said my name. The one who gave me the scars on my back. Probably, he was the only person who knew who I am, except the person he was speaking to.”

“Why did you kill him? I mean, I guess I know why, but how did you do it?” Linda asked. She clasped her hands in her lap.

“It was sort of an accident. I was just trying to defend myself in that horrible basement where I was a captive for years.” She looked at Sam. “You’re not going to like this. You’ll never see me in the same light again.”

“At least, it’ll be the truth. That’s all I want.”

Jessie shut her eyes tight. “He was going to hurt me and I fought back. He was squirting lighter fluid on me and I kicked out as hard as I could. He fell down with the can of lighter fluid in one hand and the lit lighter in the other hand. A line of fire sprang up between the stream of lighter fluid and the flame. And then the can went
boom
. He was on fire and started screaming in pain.” She paused, tears dripping from her closed eyes. She stopped talking.

“Continue, if you can. We’re right here for you, Jessie,” Sam said. “Open your eyes so you can see us and feel safe.”

Jessie opened her eyes and took a few deep breaths. “It was one of the rare times when I wasn’t tied up or chained because he had just made me scrub the basement floor on my hands and knees. The door to the basement was locked from the outside with a deadbolt in the kitchen, but when he screamed, my other captor opened the basement door. To get past her, I pushed her down and ran up the stairs and out of the kitchen back door into the snowy night, naked and barefoot. I swear, this is the truth.”

“My God,” Sam said.

“I ran down the street screaming and started ringing doorbells until someone let me in and called the police.”

“How old do you think you were when you got away?” Linda asked.

“I don’t know. I had had my period just two or three times. I might have been somewhere between twelve and fourteen.”

Sam said, “You are the bravest girl I have ever known.”

“Not brave at all.
Terrified.
People have great strength when they are fighting for their lives.”

“You’re a survivor, Jessie. I am so proud of you for fighting him.”

He got up from the recliner chair and hugged her and then the three of them were on the blue couch.

Linda asked, “What did the police say about the burned body when you led them back to your captors’ house?”

“It took the police about forty minutes to show up and come and get me from that neighbor’s house. There was a blizzard and the snow plows hadn’t been through. By the time we got there, back to the place where I had been held captive, they was gone. Either he died and his partner removed the body, or they took him to a hospital or somewhere else to get medical attention. There were burn marks on the floor but no body.”

“Do you know their names?”

“Late in my captivity, I know what they called each other in my presence: Gunther and Ursula. Those were fake names.”

“Why do you say that?”

“There was this TV show,
Friends
. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

They both nodded. “Those were secondary characters from the show.” She paused. “I had a TV in the basement. And they had one upstairs. That’s how I knew the names were fake.”

“What did they call each other before that TV show?” Linda asked.

She thought for a moment. “Occasionally, when they drank and fought, it would come out: I believe their real names were Frank and Tansy. They would yell at each other. But never did they call each other by those names in my presence.”

“Did they rent the house or own it?”

“Neither. According to the police, they were squatters. The owner of the house went missing and the couple just kept paying the utility bills when they arrived.”

“Do you think they killed her? The owner of the house?”

“I don’t know. I was a little girl when I first remember being there.” She broke off and wiped her eyes with a tissue. “I’m suddenly very tired,” Jessie said. She looked at Linda. “Could we continue this tomorrow or the next day?”

“Of course.” She glanced at Sam and then back at Jessie. “I have a very good contact at the Stanton Police Department and I’m going to try and get access to the cold-case file.”

“I want to go with you if I can,” Jessie said. “I haven’t talked to them for years. I know no one was really working the case the last time I went.”

“When was that?”

“About five years ago. The detective who had been working on cold cases retired and there wasn’t anyone filling his place yet. Neither did they have much of a budget for the cold cases.”

“I think it would be better if I went alone,” Linda said. “I kind of get my information on the QT from my ex-husband.”

Jessie swallowed. “Okay. I don’t have the case number, though, because I lost everything when my motorhome went off the Narrows Bridge.”

“Oh my. You’ve been through the mill. What precinct, do you know?”

“The Strands. And it’s not a precinct. It’s a district. I think.”

“That’s right. You do know the department, obviously. The Strands. That can be a rough neighborhood. Give me a couple of days and I’ll get back to you if there are any updates.”

Jessie looked disappointed.

“There may be nothing to go on but the address of the place where you were kept. Do you remember it?”

“Yes. I can never forget it.” She wrote it down and handed it to Linda.

“What day did you escape?”

She added the date to the post-it note.

“I’ll be in touch soon. Sit tight and I will try to come up with something for you. Really, don’t leave.”

“Thank you, Linda,” Sam said. “I owe you one.”

“Hey, you said you would find that book on infrared spectroscopy for me at a good price.”

“I will.”

They shook hands and Linda hugged Jessie.

“Sit tight at Sam’s. We are going to get to the bottom of this mystery of who you are. If you run away, you won’t find out.”

“Okay.”

“Three heads are better than one, right?” Sam said.

“Yes. Thank you, Linda,” Jessie said. “I know you’re right. It’s been my lifelong quest to find out who I am.”

After Linda left, Jessie and Sam hugged for a long time. She climbed into his lap and he held her in the circle of his strong arms.

“Do you believe me?” she asked tearfully, “because I have to tell you that if you don’t, then I don’t have one person on Earth who has ever believed me or ever believed
in
me.”

“Of course I believe you!” He paused for just a moment. “And I believe
in
you.”

“Why? Why would you?”

“You suffered. You fought. You escaped. You
lived
.”

She gasped for breath. “You’re not repulsed by me? You aren’t absolutely sickened to touch me?”

“Jessie! No.
No!
” He took her gently by the shoulders. “You are a survivor!”

“But I’m
damaged!
” She erupted into sobs.

He rubbed her shoulders gently as she cried against the front of his shirt.

“You didn’t choose that.”

“Strange you should say that.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“That turn of phrase:
Choose
.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t.”

“Then why don’t you just tell me? Explain yourself.”

“I can’t choke out the truth right now—I am so sick of lying my way through life just so I don’t have to relive the worst parts.”

“I don’t want you to relive them. I just want to understand you, Jessie.”

“Just because you’re my lover doesn’t mean you should have to be my therapist.”

“Do you want a therapist? Because if you want one, I’ll make sure you have one.”

“Hell to the no!”

“I guess that’s crystal clear,” Sam said quietly. “You really should though, get therapy from a professional.”

“You’re angry with me.”

“I’m hurt. I’m so hurt that you don’t trust me with what is eating you alive.”