The Door at the Top of the Stairs (7 page)

"Sit down. We're not done." Ryland returned Jesse's stare until she threw herself back into the couch and turned to face the wall.

Ryland sat as well. "What you need to realize, Jesse, is it doesn't matter if you think the information I'm asking for is important. If I ask a question, there's a reason for it, and you need to answer.

Now, why did Pete have a debt?"

The pain in Jesse's head was almost unbearable. She tried to concentrate on what Ryland was saying. "Pete owed money, but

—"

Ryland let her think. It was difficult at first for patients to allow memories to come. Jesse would get better at it the more they worked, but right now, they needed to give her subconscious time to dredge up what it had so carefully buried. "When something comes to mind, I want you to say it. Don't try to analyze it, just let it come out."

"He didn't gamble." Her eyebrows lowered as she remembered, "He'd started snorting cocaine. I remember I walked in on him a few weeks before we made that last buy."

"What did he do when you walked in?"

She shook her head. "He went crazy. He said if I ever told anyone, he'd kill me. I told him I'd get him help. We had to get him help."

"What did he say to that?" Ryland guessed selling her out had been a convenient way for him to get rid of a nasty complication.

Jesse groaned from the pain and put her head down onto her knees, "He said he'd think about it, but if I ratted on him, I'd be dead."

Ryland nodded and moved on. "Why did the man give him the money?"

"I don't know." She put her hand back to her temple and pushed so hard her knuckles went white.

"You do know, and I have to know." Ryland motioned for Morgan to touch Jesse's knee. When she did, Jesse jumped and her eyes flew open, but it accomplished what Ryland had intended—

Jesse was staring at Morgan's face. Ryland repeated. “So tell me why the man gave him the money."

Jesse looked down, then up into Morgan's eyes. "For me. He wanted me."

"Why?"

"Someone put a hood over my head and tied a rope around my neck to hold it in place." Jesse put her head in her hands. "I think they drugged me, because when I woke up, I was somewhere else."

She lowered her hands and started rubbing her right palm with her left thumb. She studied the lines, then flipped her hand over and rubbed the back. She did the same with her other hand, switching back and forth as though looking for something.

Ryland watched Jesse's hands. "Where were you?"

Jesse didn't answer.

"What's wrong with your hands, Jesse?"

Confusion. "Nothing...see?" She held out her hand to Ryland, who took it and turned it over the same way Jesse had. Jesse repeated, “There's nothing wrong with them." She pointed to the palm of her hand and put her index finger dead center in the middle. Slowly, she ran the finger down the palm, under her sleeve and stopped on her wrist. She turned her wrist over and put her thumb on the top.

When Jesse looked up, Ryland knew something was wrong.

The blood had drained from Jesse's face until the skin had become a pasty white, but it was the quick glimpse of terror that warned her what would happen next.

Jesse bolted from the couch and raced out the front door, Ryland and Morgan seconds behind her. Instead of running toward the barn like Ryland expected, Jesse ran to the end of the porch, bent over the railing and threw up. Ryland and Morgan stood on either side, waiting for the retching to pass. When she stopped heaving, Jesse hung over the rail, gasping.

"Talk to me, Jess. What happened?"

Jesse began dry heaving and dropped down on all fours to stop her stomach from turning inside out. The cramping eased enough to allow her to put her head on her hands and rock forward.

"Sit up and breathe normally. You'll be all right. We're right here with you. Sit up and breathe." Ryland pulled on Jesse's shoulder, and Morgan reached in to help. They pulled her back until she was seated on the floor, her legs bent in front of her, her head resting on her knees. Ryland said. “Close your eyes a minute and breathe normally."

When Jesse closed her eyes, Ryland reached out and gently pushed back one of Jesse's sleeves. A round, white scar was centered perfectly in the middle of her wrist. Ryland turned the hand over and found a matching scar on the underside. She left the sleeve where it was and told Jesse to open her eyes. "When you woke up after you were kidnapped, what was the first thing you saw?"

"It was black. I still had the hood on." She just wanted to answer the questions so she could leave.

"What do you see when they take off the hood?"

"I don't think this is helping. We don't need to do this." Jesse started to get up, and Ryland stopped her.

"What do you see when they take off the hood?” Jesse breathed deeply before answering. "I'm standing in a doorway looking out. I see a short hallway with some stairs at the end...going up." She shifted, ready to leave, and once more Ryland stopped her.

Jesse shoved Ryland's hand off her shoulder. "Leave me the fuck alone!" She pushed to her knees. Morgan moved in and pulled her back down. Jesse grabbed her fingers, struggling to pry them off her arm. Morgan just tightened her grip.

"Let go of my arm." The words came out low and guttural, a clear warning to Morgan to back off. She was ready to hurt anyone who stopped her from leaving, because she
was
leaving.

Morgan swung her leg over Jesse's legs and straddled them, never taking her eyes off her. “You're not going anywhere until Ryland says we're done, period." Morgan had no clue whether she was doing the right thing, but if Ryland said she needed to stay, then she'd try to make her stay and hope for the best.

Jesse growled and swung a fist at Morgan's face.

Morgan blocked it with her forearm and grabbed that arm too.

She pushed her down and pinned both arms to the porch. Jesse glared pure hatred at Morgan, and Ryland took advantage of the connection. “What happened next, Jesse? Tell me and you can leave."

Jesse fought desperately to free her arms and legs, then abruptly stopped struggling and focused on Morgan's hand, which covered the wrist pinned closest to her face.

Ryland said quickly. “Let go of that wrist."

Morgan let go. Jesse closed her eyes and turned her head away. Ryland repeated. “Tell me what happened, and you can leave."

“Get off me."

Ryland nodded to Morgan who let go and moved off Jesse's legs. Jesse stood to lean over the railing again. Her knees buckled and she ended up squatting with her head leaning against the rails.

"They—" She stopped and her hands curled around the railing.

"They put my hands on either side of the door frame." She looked around at Ryland, her dark brown eyes sunk deep into a grey, bloodless face. “Why do I have to say it? You know what they did."

Ryland reached up and stroked Jesse's cheek. “Yes, Jesse, I know what they did. You don't have to say it. We're done for today." Ryland felt she'd pushed enough for the first day, and that forcing her to say they'd nailed her wrists to the door post would be a mistake at that point.

Jesse let herself lean sideways until she was tucked up into the corner of the porch. She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and put her head down, exhausted.

Ryland took Morgan's arm and motioned for the two of them to go back into the house. When they were inside, Morgan leaned up against the door. “They nailed her wrists to the door post? Jesus Christ, Ry! How can we physically force her into therapy? If she wants to leave, shouldn't we let her leave?"

Ryland stepped to the window and looked out at Jesse, sitting in an almost textbook upright fetal position. “Morgan, she has one hope for a normal future. We're working outside the confines of a mental hospital, and I have to force her to face her terrors. She'll want to run at every turn, but if I allow that, she'll eventually destroy herself." She turned back to Morgan. "If we were holding her against her will, she wouldn't be sitting out there right now.

She'd be gone. She knows we're trying to help, and deep down, she desperately needs you to keep her here despite her need to get away from me." She leaned into Morgan and wrapped her arms around her. “Trust me, my love, we can help her, but it's going to be a very bumpy ride."

Jesse was still there when Morgan came out to start on the late afternoon chores. "C'mon Jesse, we need to feed. I'll help you tonight."

"I'd rather do it myself." She got to her feet and walked down the path to the barn, Morgan at her side. The leaves completely shaded the walk, and Jesse concentrated on their colors to keep from arguing with Morgan about helping. When Morgan followed her into the barn, Jesse snapped, “I said I'd rather do it myself."

She picked up a flake of hay and headed for the aisle between the stalls.

Morgan grabbed a coffee can and measured out some oats.

"This is still my farm, and I tell you what to do, you don't tell me."

Jesse's temper flared. “Fine,
you
feed 'em then!" She threw down the hay and stalked toward her apartment.

"Get your butt back here, pick up the goddamn hay, and do your job! I'm not paying you to throw temper tantrums or feel sorry for yourself. I still have a farm to run and hounds to train."

Jesse whirled on Morgan. “Feel
sorry
for myself? Who the fuck do you think you are? I didn't ask for your help, I don't want your help and I don't goddamn
need
your help. I quit! You can have your fuckin' job! I quit!"

Morgan watched her stalk into the apartment and slam the door. She leaned against the feed table, not sure what to do. Life would sure be easier without taking time away from the farm and foxhunting to fix a screwed up ex-cop. In fact, everything had been moving along just fine before Jesse'd ended up on their doorstep.

Well, she was Ryland's project, not hers. She picked up the barn phone and called the house.

Ryland picked up on the first ring. “Hi, what's up?"

"Just thought I'd let you know she's packing her things. She quit a minute ago."

"She quit or you pushed her?"

"Don't put this on me. I've got a business to run, and I don't need anybody thinking they can run roughshod over me just because they think I feel sorry for them. She's your experiment, Ryland, not mine."

Ryland spoke in a clipped, angry tone. "You pushed her! She's a complete emotional mess right now, and you're scared because this looks like more than you bargained for. You pushed her!"

Morgan responded in kind. "This is my farm, and no employee of mine is going to tell me what I can and cannot do. Damn it, Ryland, I've got a business to run." She knew Ryland was right, and it galled her to have to admit helping Jesse scared her, that it put her on unfamiliar footing when she was used to being the one in control.

Jesse chose that moment to come out of her apartment carrying her few possessions. Morgan thought about what Ryland had said and knew what she had to do. Growling with frustration, she threw down the phone and stalked over to Jesse. "Put down that shit, pick up that hay, and feed the goddamn horses! I've had it with your bullshit! Get your ass moving. Now!" She stormed back to the table, picked up the coffee can and slammed it down. She measured out the portions, throwing the ingredients into the can while trying to contain her anger.

Jesse's emotions had cooled somewhat, and she realized she didn't know where she'd go if she left. She'd given Ryland her one chance, and she hadn't failed. There’d been a kidnapping.
She
had been kidnapped. She just didn’t know why she hadn't she remembered it before and why she couldn't remember anything else.

She threw her bag back into her room and started carrying hay to the horses. The two of them glared at each other each time they passed in the aisle, and there was a lot of banging of stall doors and coffee cans while they finished their work.

Chapter Nine

Morgan's anger hadn't cooled by the time one o'clock rolled around the next day. When she walked in the house, Ryland was sitting in her armchair reading a book.

Ryland set her glasses on the coffee table and moved to the couch. "Morgan, can we talk? You came in so angry last night....You just went in and went to bed, and you left today without having our morning coffee. Talk to me, please."

Morgan stepped into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of milk and came out to sit next to Ryland. Dust from the morning's work covered her hair, and when she rubbed her head, some of it drifted down onto her clothes. She fell back into the couch with a sigh. “I don't know what's wrong. I guess I just liked the way things were before she came. Everything was perfect: the farm is in the black, the club and the hounds are doing great, I have a great hunt staff." She set the glass on the table and leaned back again.

"I've been on edge since the first day she came. I want her gone and everything back to normal."

Ryland moved close enough for their knees to touch and put her hand on Morgan's leg. “You might be surprised by this, but I wouldn't mind if she left either. I want to help her, and I know how to help her, but I retired for a reason. I haven't done a minute's work on my book since that day Jesse fainted behind the barn. I've done nothing but pore over these books, trying to convince myself I'm doing the right thing." She leaned into Morgan, resting her head on her shoulder. "You know, I need to apologize to you. I never did ask whether you would help. I just threw you into the therapy because I knew you were what she needed.”

"If we stop now, what happens?"

Ryland curled her arm around Morgan's, enjoying the familiar warmth she felt there. “You know I'm not about guilt trips, my love. If we stop, we stop. She goes on with her life, and she'll follow whatever path she can. We have our life, you and I, and that's more important to me than helping Jesse. If you want to stop, then I want to stop too." They sat quietly for a while, neither wanting to make the final decision.

"Ryland, if we stop, what happens to her? No guilt. I just want to know the facts from someone who's dealt with this before."