Changespell 01 Dunn Lady's Jess (6 page)

A change of clothing meant, of course, that Jess had to face zippers, but the sweatshirt pullover was easy enough. The old denims were a little loose but stayed up without a belt. By then Eric had gone back to the telephone to finish his search for Carey—or Carey's body—and could do no more without actually involving Jess with the police. And that, he told Jaime, he was still reluctant to do, not because they wouldn't honestly try to help her, but because they were bureaucracy, and Jess' claims would set them into helping from a different direction—fixing Jess rather than finding Carey.

Jaime felt she had little choice—not to mention plenty of room in the rambling old farmhouse that had housed two generations of the Cabot family and now stood too quiet with only herself and her brother in occupancy. Jess, she said, could stay. She was short of stable help right now, anyway, and if there was only one thing she
knew
about Jess, it was that the woman understood horses. She was even resigned to paying for a pair of shoes for the footloose Jess, not to mention some underwear—but that was before Eric hauled the saddle and saddlebags out of his car, and showed her the pouch of gold.

"I knew if I told Dayna about it, she'd insist on calling the police," Eric said, tilting his hand to shift the pile of small square gold pieces. They were crudely stamped in runes that matched the lettering addressing the sealed document, and there were eleven of them.

Jaime teased a coin off of his hand to fall into her own, and held it to reflect the light from the window. "No doubt about that. But just because Carey had this gold, doesn't mean he did anything wrong to get it."

"He had it
and
he was running," Eric corrected. "Jess, you know anything about this stuff?"

She hadn't been paying much attention to them—she'd found her abandoned soda and seemed disappointed that she couldn't coax bubbles out of it. Now she let it be and took the coin Jaime held out. She considered it a moment, and looked at the pouch that lay on the bar. "Carey," she announced.

"You mean it belongs to Carey," Eric clarified.

Jess nodded.

Jaime looked at the sealed document in Eric's hands. "And that doesn't even give you a clue?"

"Even if I could get it open, I think it's written in some bizarre esoteric language."

"
If
you could get it open?"

He shrugged, sheepishness coming over his tightly drawn features. "This seal . . . I don't know what it's made of. I can't break it. I tried just prying it off, but the paper—or whatever this stuff is—started to tear. I think if we force it, we're going to destroy it. Maybe it needs some kind of solvent."

"How about, 'open, sesame'?" Jaime asked wryly. "I do agree with you, though. There's no point in tearing the thing up if it's not likely to tell us anything. I've got to go into Columbus early next week—I'll take a copy of the words on the front to the OSU language department. If there's someone there who can translate, maybe then we'll try a little harder to open it." She looked at Jess. "It would be so much easier if she could just
tell
us the whole story." Abruptly, she held out the pouch, and Eric spilled the gold into it. She cinched the pouch closed with a gesture of finality, and took the remaining piece from Jess, holding it up between them. "I'll wait a few more days, keep an eye on the papers. If nothing shows up, I'll see about selling this. After all, she's got to have clothes, and some personal stuff."

"Selling it?" Eric repeated doubtfully. "Can you do that? Won't they want to know what it is, and where it came from?"

Jaime dismissed his concern. "Gold's going for about five-fifty an ounce—that's all a gold trader cares about. If you're really worried, five minutes and a propane torch would probably get rid of these weird letters. Of course, I don't know how this Carey guy is going to feel about us spending his money."

"He shouldn't have left Jess alone," Eric said defensively. "Sell the thing. Get her something really nice."

Jaime spent most of her days in the barn, where Jess was happy enough to clean stalls, feed, and lead the horses to turnout. She found Jess ever reluctant to speak, although she often caught the woman responding to one of the horses with some throaty nonverbal comment. Caught up in her own busy schedule, Jaime seldom had time to devote to socializing with the reclusive newcomer, although she was careful to check the newspapers for any mention of a missing woman. She didn't spend any significant time with Jess until nearly a week had passed.

One of Jaime's best lesson horses was scheduled for minor surgery in Columbus, an hour's drive from The Dancing. She wanted a companion for the drive; Jess needed clothes. They dropped the horse off at the university clinic and Jaime made a quick stop at a gold dealer, then dragged Jess into a mall—almost literally—and outfitted her with practical jeans and a variety of men's pullover shirts, which turned out to be much easier to fit to her sturdy shoulders than the flimsier women's versions. It was nothing but utilitarian, and nothing more than what she needed. Choosing footwear turned out to be more of a problem when Jess revealed herself to be quite fussy about having her feet either handled or confined. Jaime finally convinced her to accept a pair of sneakers, although Jess scorned them once they left the mall. Jaime took a closer look at her tough soles and let her go barefoot as she pleased.

They returned to the university an hour and a half before the surgical procedure was slated to finish, and Jaime knew from experience that there was no point in returning to the clinic with some faint hope of news. She dropped the hand-copied characters from the sealed papers off at the language department, and then they walked the central oval of the vast campus, sightseeing amongst the stately older buildings. Or, rather, Jaime looked at the buildings and Jess reveled in the flat grassy area, jigging ahead, stopping now and then to watch the occasional bandanna-adorned, frisbee-chasing dog.

Then classes ended and the floodgates opened. Students rushed madly from here to there, intent on covering long distances in as little time as possible. Jess had lagged behind to stare at the massive statue of President William Oxley Thompson in front of the library; now she caught up to Jaime with such haste that she bumped into her.

Startled, Jaime reached out to steady her, and discovered that Jess was wide-eyed, her head thrown back to regard the flow of students around them. She continued to walk almost on Jaime's heels, and finally Jaime stopped, and took Jess' shoulders in her hands. "It's all right, Jess," she said firmly. "In a few minutes they'll be gone. They're just students trying to get from one of these buildings to another. Do you understand?"

"No," Jess said in a small voice. Someone jostled her from behind and she flinched, one leg lifting sharply and then settling in some aborted movement.

"They'll be gone in a minute," Jaime repeated. "See? Watch them. They came out of these buildings—and even now you can see that they're all going back inside. Look at them."

Obediently, Jess looked around the oval. The mass of moving bodies hadn't yet decreased, but it was evident that there were more of them entering buildings than were coming out.

"Have you ever been to school, Jess?"

A quick, short nod stirred thick shaggy hair, but there was hesitation there as well. "Not like this," Jess said, eventually putting her thought into words.

Jaime nodded. "This is one of the largest schools in the country," she said. "There are quite a few satellite campuses, too." Then she looked from the finally thinning crowd to Jess' blank expression and laughed out loud. "That didn't mean a thing to you, did it?"

A small shy grin. "No."

The students continued to part around them like water around a rock in the middle of a stream, but Jess had relaxed; her gaze was back on the statue.

"It wasn't the crowd, was it?" Jaime asked in sudden insight. "It was the
not understanding
."

Jess' eyes traveled back to hers, her expression a visual question mark.

"Never mind," Jaime said, certain enough that she'd been correct. "C'mon. Mirror Lake is just down this hill—if you can call anything this gentle a hill—and there's usually someone nearby selling hot dogs." She glanced at her watch to see that they'd have enough time to eat without doing it on the run, and set off for the lake.

It was a pond, really, so shallow you could see the bottom, and man-made at that. But in the center rose a pleasant, simple fountain, and the trees and shrubs that circled the area separated it from the activity of the rest of the campus, making it an oasis of peace.

And just over the slight rise on the other side of the pond, Jaime could see the canopy of the hot dog vendor's cart. "Good," she said with satisfaction. She pointed out one of the benches by the edge of the pond, and said, "Wait here. I'm going to get something for us to eat."

A nod confirmed agreement and Jaime left her, satisfied that Jess' already apparent fascination with the fountain would keep her occupied.

She bought two hot dogs, and an extra bun so they could feed the few mallards that hung around the pond. But when she turned back, she almost dropped it all, for Jess was in the middle of the shallow water, stepping carefully, reaching out to touch the cascading water of the fountain. Standing at the edge of the pond was a visibly irate member of campus security; Jaime could hear his loud commands, but Jess was lost in the noise of the water. A particularly angry expression crossed the man's face and he, too, stepped into the water.

"No, wait!" Jaime yelled, juggling hot dogs as she ran back to the pond. If the man heard her, he was too intent on Jess to pay any attention. He strode up to Jess from behind and firmly took both her arms; Jaime abandoned the hot dogs and sprinted as Jess flew into motion, slamming her foot backwards into the man's shin with amazing force; she twisted and flung herself around with struggles that only increased when they met failure. She fell into the rising spray of the fountain and dragged the man with her, and they ended up tussling in the water.

Jaime hit the cold pond without slowing down, pushing through two gawking students on her way. Awkward in the water, she barely stopped in time to keep from piling on top of the wrestling figures. "Jess!" she yelled above the noise of the struggle and the splash of the fountain. "No, Jess—whoa!"

It didn't have the magic of the last time she'd used it; it was the man who realized she was there and trying to help.

"Calm her down before I hurt her!" he bellowed, right before Jess' heel connected with the side of his face. She slithered out of his momentarily weakened grasp and floundered through the water.

Jaime knew that look: Jess was on the run again. She lunged directly into Jess' path and flung her arms out wide, not grabbing for her, but making herself large and imposing.

Jess stopped short; she snorted water out of her nose and tossed back the sodden mass of her hair.

"Be easy, Jess," Jaime murmured, not possibly loud enough to be heard over the fountain and the water running off the rising security man, but Jess seemed to respond to it anyway, despite her heaving breath and flared nostrils. She took another step, more deliberate, and put Jaime in between herself and the man, who glared at them both.

"What the hell's she on?" he demanded.

"She's not," Jaime said, forcing calm. "She's just frightened. She didn't know you were there before you touched her."

"She deaf?" he asked gruffly, tempering his anger enough to let Jaime know he considered this a possibility.

"No," Jaime answered slowly, "but she's new to a lot of things." She reached out a careful arm to guide Jess toward the imitation shoreline, and the man took the opportunity to scowl away the spectators, most of whom were satisfied to wander off now that the action was over. When all three of them were out, dripping on the asphalt path that circled the pond, Jaime faced the man squarely and took a deep breath.

"Jess is new to this country," she said, deciding it to be the simplest explanation, as well as her best guess at the truth. "A lot of things are strange to her. She didn't know she was breaking any rules, and she only reacted out of fear when you grabbed her."

"She had plenty of warning," the man growled. "I'm afraid you'll have to come with me."

"She didn't hear you," Jaime said desperately. That much was true, she was sure. When Jess was intent on something new, her whole world seemed to focus down on that object, and she'd more than once failed to respond to Jaime's question or call. "You scared her. Of
course
she resisted—she thought she was being attacked."

Unmoved, the man said, "She shouldn't have been in the water."

"She didn't
know
," Jaime repeated. The determined glint remained in his eye, and she knew Jess was moments away from being saddled with some serious charges. Abruptly she turned to Jess, moved back a step so the young woman was not so much behind her as beside her. "Jess, why did you fight?"

She raised her head, and a stubborn look appeared in her dark eyes. Her reply was slow, hindered by her search for words. "There is no trust for those who grab with no asking." Her precise meaning was unclear but the gist of the words was clear enough.

"You didn't hear him call you to come out of the fountain?"

Jess gave an amused snort. "I am not his. He has no Words for me."

"You see?" Jaime appealed, trying not to shiver. "She just didn't know you were an authority. She wasn't paying any attention to you—so she didn't know you were coming. Wouldn't you act to protect yourself if
you
were grabbed from behind?"

The man rubbed a beefy hand across the back of his neck, his expression reluctant. The side of his face was red where Jess' foot had made contact. "Everybody knows this kind of uniform means police authority," he maintained. "I'm not trying to make trouble for you two, but—"

"Look," Jaime said, swiping at the drop of water that trembled on the end of her nose, "the intent wasn't there. Sure, you can pursue this thing, but what you
really
want is to prevent it from happening again, right? And you can do that by letting me explain things to her. Or by doing that yourself, if you want—right here."