Chapter 9

Death

"There's no dignity in death."

Kate was running. She ran through the rain, along the shore, the harsh wind and the rain were hurting her face. Her clothes were soaked and she should be freezing by now, but inside of her burned a painful fire that threatened to tear her apart. This wasn't the way she had wanted things to turn out. Ever since Carter McIntyre had been killed, nothing had gone according to plan. Everything had gone wrong and now Aaron was dead. Shot by one of his so called accomplices. It was over. Without him nothing was important anymore. Without Aaron she was nothing but an empty shell. She could die just as well. She could die right here and now without ceremony, without honor. There was no dignity in death anyway. Deidra was dead. Carter was dead. Her mother was dead. And now Aaron was dead, too, and nothing about them dying had been heroic or peaceful.

When her lungs threatened to explode, she finally gave up. The dam broke and she realized it wasn't just the rain that was streaming down her face. It was tears. Tears for Aaron, Deidra, and herself. For what they could have been and the children they could have had. She sank onto her knees and the sand was wet and cold, but it didn't matter. All she wanted was to die. She heard a noise and was shocked to realize it had been her own voice. She had been screaming from the top of her lungs.

She sobbed and squatted down, ready to stay there until she froze to death.

The touch on her shoulder startled her. She screamed, jerked up and almost lost her balance, but Preston caught her elbow, keeping her from falling.

"It's time to go home."

"I don't want to." Thunder was rumbling in the distance and swallowed her words.

"But you have to. There's no escaping from the truth," Preston said. "Believe me, I tried to run away from the truth and my past and it always outran me. I've lost everything, including the woman I loved."

"And I lost Aaron," Kate cried. "He's dead and it's all my fault!"

"We'll see about that. From my humble experience I can say that things are barely what they seem to be."

His grip was gentle, but firm. Slowly he pulled her with him back to her home and back to the house where it all began.

Jessica was relieved when Preston and Kate finally returned to the house. She saw them from her bedroom window and rushed downstairs, armed with towels and blankets.

"Thank god!" she said, as she wrapped Kate into the biggest towel she had found. "Are you all right? Should we call a doctor?"

"She will be all right," Preston said and the firmness in his voice irritated Jessica.

"You need to warm up! What about a hot bath while I get you some tea?"

"I think a hot shower will do," Kate said in a low voice.

"I'll take you upstairs," Jessica offered after Preston had given her a meaningful glance. She was about to ask him how he knew where his daughter could be found, but he just passed her and went upstairs without paying her another look. She didn't know what exactly had gone wrong between them during the last couple of hours, but on top of the latest news, it was more trouble than she wanted to deal with.

While Kate was under the shower Jessica looked at the various photographs that stood on the board near the window. Most of them showed Aaron and Kate as a young couple, beaming with love and happiness. There was another photo that showed Kate with her late mother and another one with Aidan and Aaron at what must have been their graduation day. To her surprise there was also a very recent photo of Kate and Preston in front of a Christmas tree. The only family member missing was Blake and Jessica was certain she now knew why.

The maid knocked and brought a tray with hot tea and two slices of toast with marmalade. Jessica had just poured the tea when Kate came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a thick bathrobe and her hair tucked into a turban like towel.

"I'm still freezing," she admitted when she took the cup Jessica handed her.

"The tea will warm you up," Jessica promised her with a warm smile. "What about a piece of toast? I know you probably don't feel like eating, but I think you need your strength."

Kate looked warily at the toast, before she took the slice and started nibbling at the corner.

"You're very kind to me. I wonder why."

"I beg your pardon?" Jessica didn't understand and sat down when Kate motioned her to have a seat in the armchair near the window.

Kate abandoned her toast and climbed on her bed where she pulled the cover around her shoulders.

"I never really questioned Preston's wish to bring you here to look into Carter's murder," she explained. "I guess I was too occupied with Aaron to think it through…" she broke off, lost in her thoughts and Jessica patiently waited for her to continue.

"Perhaps I also thought I was doing him a favor… I know he felt a little lost around here and then…"

"Yes?" Jessica encouraged her.

"Earlier at the beach he said something that I didn't really understand at first, but now, it suddenly makes a lot of sense. He said, he had tried to outrun his past and that it cost him everything, including the woman he loved. At first I thought he was talking about my mother, but now I think he was actually talking about you."

Jessica felt how the blood rushed into her cheeks. "I'm sure he meant your mother," she said quickly and looked away.

"No, he didn't," Kate said and this time there was no doubt in her voice. "He meant you."

"Kate, there's something I have to ask you," Jessica changed the subject. "Earlier this afternoon I received a phone call from a friend who told me something about your mother. According to her medical files Doreen never suffered from Alzheimer's."

Kate stopped chewing and shook her head, "That's not possible, I mean…"

"Don't get me wrong, your mother was ill. She had been manic depressive for the better part of her adult life, but she didn't have Alzheimer's."

"I know she had problems…." Kate was still aghast. "But Blake said she had Alzheimer's. Why would he lie about it?"

Jessica had no answer, but she had a hunch and it worried her.

"I don't think she really knew what was going on," Kate continued. "She wasn't herself in the last few months of her life."

"Yesterday Blake told me, you didn't know about your mother's condition, because you were too occupied with Aaron and the murder trial…."

Kate shook her head, "I knew what he told me, which wasn't very much. Maybe I should have bothered him more about her condition… But I believed what he told me and never thought he would lie about her illness. Maybe I was wrong." Her eyes wandered to the window. It was getting dark outside and the rain was still hitting the window. At least the thunder had calmed down.

"All right." Jessica rose and patted Kate's hand. "Why don't you try to rest a bit? Tomorrow will be a long day... Have you talked to Aidan?"

"We talked on the phone just after Chambers left... He is trying to find out what happened. He promised to come over as soon as he learns anything."

"Good. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs."

"Thank you, Jessica. I know you probably can't return my sentiment, but I'm very glad you are here." Kate smiled sadly at Jessica and Jessica returned the smile.

"Try to sleep."

Five minutes later Jessica walked down the hallway and stopped in front of Preston's door. Uncertain if it was wise to talk to him right now, before she had thought it all through, she knocked. She had so many questions on her mind, most of them he wouldn't be able to answer, but she needed to talk to someone nevertheless. Perhaps he could help her to make sense of the present situation.

When Preston didn't answer the door she knocked again, and again the answer was silence. She drew a deep breath and peaked inside. From the bathroom she heard water running. He was under the shower. Feeling like an intruder, she wanted to leave again but then her eyes fell on a small bottle with pills on the bedside cabinet. Right next to it lay one of her more recent books 'Murder at the Asylum'. She had never been really happy with the cover, but the selling numbers spoke a different story of taste. The cover showed a Gothic version of a hospital and a white bird passing the building. It was supposed to be a white raven, a bird that played a massive role in the story.

Her curiosity got the better of her and so she slipped in. She picked it up and swallowed when she realized what it was, She was no expert, but she recognized painkillers when she saw them. Why did he need them? What hadn't he told her?

"Jess?"

She almost dropped the bottle when she heard him calling her name. How did miss that he had turned off the water? "Preston!"

"Is something wrong?" he asked and she swallowed. Once again her nosiness had brought her into an embarrassing situation. Preston stood in the doorway, dripping wet, only dressed in his bathrobe, and stared at her.

"I wanted to talk to you," she explained quickly. She looked again at the bottle and anger rose within her. "About what happened earlier today…. And then I saw this." She showed him the bottle. "What didn't you tell me about your health?"

"Nothing," he answered plainly.

"These are the strongest painkillers I know. The doctors don't prescribe them for some minor headache." She heard her own voice shaking, a clear sign for how the events of the day had taken their toll on her.

"Oh Jess…," he closed the gap between them and took the bottle. "It's not as bad as you think."

"What exactly is not as bad as I think?" she asked, upset. "The murders of Carter McIntyre and Deidra Chambers? Your ex-wife's death, or the fact that your son-in-law escaped prison just to end up dead as well? Preston, I don't know what is going on here, but every time I'm talking to someone I have the feeling people are either not telling the truth or they keep important things to themselves! Including you! Why am I here anyway?"

"Jess, please…" he put the bottle aside and touched her arms.

"No, Preston!" She freed herself out of his grip. "You asked me to come here to help your daughter and now everything's just…."

"A mess?" he suggested.

"It's much worse than that," she said. "And you know that."

He sighed. "I can understand that you're upset. Why don't we talk about all this downstairs? Unless, of course, you prefer my bedroom…?"

As a matter of fact, she didn't. Suddenly realizing the compromising element of their situation she withdrew. "I'll wait for you downstairs," she said in a low voice and left.

Half an hour later, Preston came downstairs. Jessica was waiting for him in the living room. She sat by the fire, deeply lost in her thoughts while the rain hit the windows.

"Do you want brandy or a glass of wine?" he asked.

"Brandy, please," she said and eyed him closely while he poured their drinks. Ever since he had shown up at her house, she had wondered about his health. It had been a miracle that he had survived the shooting six months earlier and so she had not been surprised to see he wasn't in the best of shape. But what if his physical weakness was not a result of the shooting? What if something else was the reason for it? She remembered Frank and how he had tried to downplay his own medical troubles until it had been too late.

"Are you sure brandy is what the doctor would prescribe for you?" she asked darkly, as she took the glass from him.

"I won't ask him and I hope you won't ask him either," Preston answered and sat down next to her.

"Preston, please be honest with me," she pleaded. "What is going on?"

He avoided her eyes and stared into the fire instead. "I think you already know that," he said after a moment of meaningful silence. "I really thought I could keep it from you, but as always you've seen right through me. Seems with you I'll never learn."

"I just don't know why you wanted to keep it from me anyway," Jessica shook her head.

He shrugged, "I didn't want your pity."

"I don't pity you," she clarified impatiently. "But I'm worried about you."

"That is not a big comfort." He finished his brandy and rose to get himself another one. Jessica remained where she was. Her heartbeat had increased and she felt a knot in her chest. She had maneuvered herself right into the trap she had wanted to avoid. She had known from the beginning that she was vulnerable to him. He had a way of getting under her skin that scared and excited her. She felt herself caring for him more than she should and wanted given their history.

"How long?" she asked in a low voice.

"You know doctors," he said. "They like to be unspecific just in case they are wrong… Maybe a year, maybe six months…. Who's counting anyway?"

"But there must be some kind of treatment." She knew she sounded like some cliché-filled record of good meant advice that no sick person wanted to endure hearing, but she didn't know what else to say.

"What for? I've lived my life, Jess, and I could have done better. I have my regrets and all I wish for now is for my daughter to be happy again. That's why I asked you here. There's no one else I know who can help her but you. There's no one else I trust more than you."

"Don't say that. I don't even know what to think. You have to admit that nothing that has happened in the last couple of days makes any sense."

"I agree."

She wanted to cry. Crying usually helped to loosen the knot in her chest and throat and helped her to think straight again. Just like a thunderstorm helped to clear the air after a long humid day. She turned her head and stared into the flames, hoping it would keep her emotions in check. It didn't work. She felt a single tear running down her cheek and quickly wiped it away.

"I'm sorry, Jess." He reached out to touch her.

"Don't," she answered hoarsely, but she didn't pull her hand away when he covered her hand with his.

"I know none of this mess is your problem. But I still I think you're the only person who can help Kate. I admit I wanted to have you around. I wanted to spend time with you, despite everything that happened between us over the years…. Forgive me for that."

"There's nothing to forgive. I could have said 'no' after all."

"And why didn't you?" he gently turned her chin so that she had to look him in the eye.

Jessica, usually not short of answers, didn't know how to reply. She wanted to lie, but she had never been a good liar. She swallowed and watched him with bated breath as he drew closer. His kiss was as gentle and tender as she remembered it. It pulled her back into a time when she didn't know he had killed two people, when she was just a woman from Cabot Cove, Maine who felt wanted by a sophisticated, attractive publisher who had given her the chance to reinvent herself. He leaned in and she didn't push him away when he gently ran his thumb over her cheek and deepened the kiss.

It was the ringing of the doorbell that brought her back to reality. They jerked apart and Preston quickly mumbled an apology before he rose. Jessica used his absence to shake off the feeling of having done something outrageous. Nervous, she ran her fingers through her hair and cleared her throat. Then Preston returned to the living room with Thomas Chambers on his heels.

"We've got a visitor," he said and offered Chambers a seat, which he declined. Chambers was soaking wet and went to the fireplace where he knelt down to warm up.

"Forgive me my intrusion," he said. "But I have to talk to Mrs. Harper."

"My daughter is upstairs and I ask you to leave her alone at least for tonight," Preston said sternly. "She's had a rough day."

"I think we all had a rough day," Chambers answered. "Believe me, it's important."

"If this is about your sister again…" Preston started, but Chambers' raised hand silenced him.

"It's about Aaron Harper," the FBI agent explained. "I don't think he's dead and perhaps Kate should know that."

~tbc~