The Door at the Top of the Stairs (33 page)

"But?"

"Well, there was a man who'd come into the room sometimes." She stopped while the images played out in her mind.

She closed her eyes and listened, trying to hear what he was saying.

Ryland watched her cock her head slightly, concentrating on something.

Jesse opened her eyes. "I can't hear him. It's like a buzz, or just a low murmuring."

"Okay, that's actually good. It probably means it's not a hidden, painful memory, it's just a memory. Try to remember your conversation with him the same way you'd try to remember a conversation you had with Morgan two months ago. Don't try too hard, just let it come."

Jesse thought back to the discussion they'd had about the fox clock Morgan had hung in the barn. "It's weird, but when I remember about the dirt room, the memories feel heavy, but when I remember talking to Morgan, they're more light. Does that make sense?"

Ryland nodded. "It does. So, think about your conversation with Morgan, then lightly switch to the conversation with the man."

Jesse tried what Ryland suggested. She blinked rapidly. They were forcing the man's head down onto her face, and she closed her eyes and shook her head to stop the memory.

Ryland watched her. "Tell me."

Jesse ground her teeth and turned left, trying to control the images. "How do I stop seeing what happened?"

"I doubt you'll ever totally forget, Sweetheart. But your memories won't control you anymore. When you remember things or see images in your mind, come find Morgan or me and talk to us about them. Don't try to stuff them." Ryland put her fingers to Jesse's chin and turned her face towards her own. She smiled and put her forehead down onto Jesse's and playfully growled. "Like you're trying to do right now." Jesse pulled in a long breath and nodded, and Ryland sat back. "What were you seeing?"

"Them forcing the man's head onto my face. That guy in the house was his father.”

Morgan rested her foot on the coffee table. "Richard had killed his son, and he'd come to kill Richard, right?" She shrugged.

"That's what I'd do anyway."

Ryland smiled again. "Morgan, would you let her tell the story, please?"

Morgan shrugged sheepishly, knowing she shouldn't fill in the blanks. "Well, it makes sense."

Jesse nodded. "The man and some other people had come to kill Richard, and they were watching him, waiting for the right time. When they saw him whipping me, they rushed him and stabbed him in the back.” She looked at Ryland. “Then one day the man took me away from the old lady’s house, put me in a car and dropped me somewhere...and then I retired."

Ryland smiled. “There's a little bit of a gap in there. What happened between the man dropping you somewhere and retirement?"

Jesse focused angry eyes on Ryland. "I ended up in a hospital, then a psych ward. Then the department said I was too screwed up to be a cop anymore, and they gave me a retirement and sent me on my way."

Morgan shifted on the couch. “Were you always such a pleasant employee to have around?"

Ryland chuckled. “Morgan, would you stop?"

"Just curious."

Ryland turned back to Jesse. “What do you remember about the hospital?"

Jesse glanced left. “Not much. Everything's real fuzzy, like there's a film over my eyes."

"They probably kept you heavily drugged, and by the time your back had healed, my guess is your subconscious had already buried all your memories. What happened at the mental hospital?"

Jesse's eyebrows lowered as she tried to focus. “All I remember are nightmares...people screaming...and I didn't understand why I was there. I remember being terrified, because I didn't belong with all the crazy people walking the corridors. When they let me out, the department told me I couldn't be a cop anymore."

She looked at Ryland who smiled and added, "And the rest is history, as they say. I'm sure we're going to run into new memories every now and then, and when we do we'll deal with them. But I think for the most part, we're done. You should be extremely proud of yourself."

Jesse shrugged and leaned into Morgan. She wanted to thank them for everything they'd done, but somehow nothing she could come up with seemed enough. "You guys saved my life." She tried to say more, but ended up walking out instead, hopefully before they saw the flood of tears running down her face.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Two weeks later, Morgan walked into the barn. She and Ryland had agreed that getting Jesse involved in foxhunting would begin the re-socialization process she needed to make a complete recovery. "Saddle Smokey. You're riding with the second flight today."

"Bullshit."

"I don't believe I own a horse by that name. Now go get Smokey."

"I said I'm not learning how to foxhunt. I shovel shit. That's my job."

Morgan stepped up close to Jesse and bent forward. Her warning growl was soft, but left no doubt as to her intentions. “Do you work for me?"

Jesse turned to go to her apartment. Morgan grabbed her arm and the back of her shirt and dragged her over in front of Smokey's halter. Jesse put her feet on the wall and pushed backward into Morgan, who stepped back and let her fall. She landed flat on her back, her breath knocked out of her. She lay there a minute, trying to catch her breath, then pushed up off the floor and shouted at Morgan, "Why? What's it to you if I do or if I don't?"

Morgan shouted right back. “There's no why about it anymore, Jesse! Pick up the goddamn halter and go get Smokey or I'll wipe the floor up with you!" Morgan had crossed from irritated to pissed off, and she felt the muscles in her neck tightening. Her hands clenched on her hips.

Jesse met her glare for glare. She reached up and jerked the halter off the wall and swung it as she went to get Smokey, banging metal garbage cans and posts with it as she walked.

Morgan ground her teeth and walked out into the chilly dawn air. Andy, one of the whippers-in who helped keep the hounds under control during the hunt, walked over, but when he saw the tornado on Morgan's face, he backed up. “I think I hear my mother calling." He walked away, and Mary, who was brushing her horse, Asiago, glanced toward Morgan. She was well acquainted with Morgan's moods and refrained from saying anything.

When Ryland came down the path, she couldn't help but notice the hushed atmosphere of the normally raucous hunt preparations. She caught Mary's eye, and Mary shifted her gaze toward Morgan, who was standing with her back to them, pulling on her gloves.

Ryland recognized the angry set to Morgan's shoulders and stepped over next to Mary. "Trouble?"

"I'm not sure. Nobody's dared ask what the problem is."

"You're all a bunch of cowards, you know that? Well, I think I'll just head back to the house until you figure out what's wrong."

Mary grabbed her arm. “Oh no you don't, Missy. We're all counting on you to talk to her."

Ryland laughed as she realized everyone had their eyes on her.

"All right, all right. I'll gird my loins and head into battle."

Mary chuckled as she watched Ryland walk up to Morgan and start to massage her shoulders. Morgan shrugged her off. “Not now, Ryland. I've got to get this goddamned hunt started."

"Have you looked around at your loyal followers? They're all walking on eggshells."

Morgan ripped off one of her gloves and turned it inside out to find the sticker that had just pricked her finger. She fumbled with it until Ryland took the glove from her and pulled out the tiny spine.

Morgan didn't take the offered glove right away. Instead she mumbled, “What's wrong with 'yes Ma'am' and 'no Ma'am' and

‘how high would you like me to jump, Ma'am?’"

When Ryland burst out laughing, Morgan gave her a withering look. Ryland held out her hand, indicating the assembled group.

“I'm sorry, Honey, but you could tell any person in this yard to do something right now and you'd have thirty people falling all over each other to 'yes Ma'am' you before you finished your sentence."

Morgan turned a full circle, surprised at how subdued everyone was as they watched her and Ryland talking. Each person immediately found busy work as she surveyed the group. If they were going to hunt sometime today, she needed to get everything moving. “Mary?"

"Yes Ma'am?" Mary trotted over and waited.

Morgan glared at Ryland, who raised her eyebrows and shrugged. Her intention had been to tell Mary to deal with Jesse, but she decided against it. “Never mind. I'll do it myself." She turned and started for the barn.

Mary nodded. “Yes Ma'am."

Morgan stopped and glared at Ryland again, daring her to say something. Ryland stifled a smile and looked away. As Morgan started for the barn again, she realized she still needed to get the whippers-in organized and ready to go. "Andy?"

"Yes Ma'am?" Andy came over to her, ready to jump whichever way she told him to.

Morgan put her thumb and forefinger into her eyes and pushed, hard. Why was it everyone except Jesse could grasp the concepts of respect and obedience? "Would you please brief the other whips on what we're doing today?"

"Yes Ma'am." He called for his two counterparts to meet him next to the gnarled beechnut tree where Morgan usually held her briefings.

Morgan heard Ryland laughing behind her, and chuckled quietly. "All right, everybody over here—now." All thirty people hustled over and stood around her, except Ryland, who ducked behind a horse so Morgan couldn't see her face.

Morgan slowly pulled on her glove. “I apologize if my temper put a pall over the hunt preparations this morning. I promise I won't bite anyone's head off if you behave like the normal bunch of drunken sailors I'm used to seeing out here before a hunt. Now go on and get ready to have a hell of a good time."

A chorus of "Yes Ma'ams" sounded from the group, and she shook her head and laughed. Everyone started talking and the hunt staff exchanged relieved glances. Andy called the whips back over to the tree, and Mary called for the second flight to meet her by her horse trailer. Morgan caught Ryland's eyes and smiled. Ryland walked over, stepped behind her friend and began massaging her shoulders again. "Go get her, Tiger."

Morgan playfully rolled up her sleeves as though readying herself for a fight. "She's gonna ride, and she's gonna enjoy it if I have to kill her to get it done." The two of them walked through the barn door and saw Smokey, fully saddled, standing by himself.

"Jesse?"

A surly snarl sounded from the tack room. “What."

Morgan stood silently, reining-in her temper and waiting for Jesse to step out. Ryland surprised her by angrily stepping to the tack room door. “Jesse, get out here—
now
! You are an employee of this farm. When Morgan calls you, you come out and find out what she wants. Do you understand me?"

Morgan heard something hit the inside of the tack room wall, and she lowered her head and raised her eyebrows when Ryland stepped into the little room and slammed the door behind her.

When they didn't come out right away, she went over to Smokey, checked his saddle and ran her fingers through his mane.

The door opened. Jesse came out and stood in front of her, arms crossed, face red, refusing to meet her eyes. Morgan glanced at Ryland, who'd come out behind Jesse, stalked out of the barn and slammed the door behind her. Morgan looked back at Jesse and leaned her arm over Smokey's neck. "You ready to ride?"

Jesse muttered, “Yes Ma'am."

Morgan did a double take, then looked at the barn door again.

"Uh...good." She patted Smokey's neck one more time. “Good.” She shrugged as she headed out of the barn.

Jesse grabbed Smokey's reins and followed. She led him over to Mary's group and mounted when Mary said it was time to get ready. Morgan called for the hounds, and Jesse waited until everyone else left the yard. She walked behind Mary's group, staying as far away as she dared without losing sight of them.

Mary trotted back to her, all business and very much the leader. “Move your horse up with the group."

Jesse squeezed Smokey's sides, and he moved up behind the rest of the second flight. She listened to the quiet banter among friends, and once Morgan cast the hounds, she watched Mary moving among the people, telling them to keep silent, keeping an eye on Morgan and waiting for the hounds to open up when they found the fox's scent. When they did, Mary waited until the first flight was well away, then signaled for her group to move out.

“Let's go. Stay together as well as you can. And what do I always say?"

Everyone, except Jesse, chorused, “Have fun!" They galloped over the hills, listening for the hounds or the huntsman's horn whenever they lost the pack. Jesse actually forgot to be angry as she heard the hounds coming back their way.

Mary directed everyone to the side, making sure the horses'

heads were facing toward the pack as the first flight thundered past, following the fox who had obviously doubled back.

Mary headed them out again and they followed the first flight over fences and through thick vegetation. Not all riders are created equal, and it wasn't a huge surprise to Jesse when one of the newer riders overbalanced and came off his horse right in front of Smokey's hooves. Jesse automatically set herself in a two-point jump position and the two of them sailed over the downed rider, then circled back to make sure he was all right.

The man picked himself up, and Jesse dismounted to give him a leg up into his saddle. When he was settled, she jumped back onto Smokey and was surprised to see Mary waiting for them.

When both riders were back in their saddles Mary nodded, then turned and started after her group again.

Jesse and the man followed, catching up to both groups, who were sitting quietly waiting for the hounds who had apparently lost the scent. She pulled Smokey to a stop a short distance from everyone so she could watch the hounds as they searched. One lifted his nose, catching a scent that had risen slightly off the ground. He circled, trying to find the source, and when he had it, she nodded, acknowledging his find.

He opened up, letting the rest of the pack know he'd found the scent, and the chase began a second time. After another half-hour, the fox scrambled into his den and Morgan blew "gone to ground."