Jessa Meets Her Match: Ch. 10, Whistling, Dancing

Jessa Meets Her Match

Chapter 10: Whistling, Dancing

I stayed where I was, kneeling next to Bixler, doing my best to keep him comfortable, while the police went about surveying the situation.

Minutes later, the medics arrived. Because they needed access to Bixler, I was instantly in the way. As I stepped back, Bix held tightly to my hand. He clearly didn’t want to see me go. Leaning in, I gave him a kiss on the cheek and shared my thoughts. I told him that I was awed by the trust he had shown for his partner – that he had behaved admirably – that I wished all cops were like him.

I said those last words without flinching. The irony was not lost on me, for he was the very same man who had leered at me and talked about my ass a few weeks earlier when he and Nick had caught me streaking in the dead of night. Of course, he hadn’t known that Catherine was listening, but that didn’t change the fact that he had said those things.

I made my way out into the hall. Catherine and I stood off to the side, observing all the hubbub. A few minutes later, the cops brought the villain out of the back room. Even though his legs were shackled, they had four large men on him, presumably to make sure he wouldn’t try anything. He was surprisingly passive. As I imagined it, I’d put the fear of God into him. He’d had a conversation with the devil himself.

Catherine was next to me. She was the actual ghost, but his eyes never left mine as he shuffled past. Part of me wished that he could see her, the real ghost. But since he couldn’t, I stood there in all my naked glory. Staring at him impassively, I squared up my shoulders and folded my arms beneath my breasts, trying to look tough.

Because it seemed as if I’d been successful at making him believe I was the ghost of one of his victims, I continued to play the part. I certainly didn’t want to offer up any contradictory evidence. I hated the man. I’d never hated anyone to anywhere near that degree. I’d grown to love Catherine and he’d taken her life. In effect, he’d killed her offspring as well. The list of despicable crimes that he had committed went on – it was a long list.

His eyes only left mine when they turned him to go down the stairs. I didn’t want to ever see him again. I didn’t think I’d have to. My testimony wouldn’t be needed, I hoped. They had more than enough evidence tying him to multiple murders. I breathed a sigh of relief. The bucket of puke was out of my sight.

Initially, probably because of my anxiety relating to Bixler, I hadn’t been feeling my nudity, even with lots of men, and a few women, milling about. That was quickly changing. Things were settling down. Bixler was receiving medical attention and the murderer was no longer in the house.

One of the medics paused in the hallway, looking me up and down. “Let’s have a look at that foot,” he suggested.

Glancing down, I saw that it was bloody, reminding me of all the glass in the street. He led me to a bench in one of the other upstairs rooms and had me sit down. A moment later, he was kneeling down in front of me, examining my foot. I shifted, trying to get my legs together. I wasn’t very successful, given that he was holding my foot.

“That’s odd. Blood but no wound,” he said after cleaning it up with a large alcohol wipe.

I smiled. “Must be the prisoner’s blood,” I said proudly. “It took the three of us. You saw his face. That was me – I went all MMA on him.”

“I heard. The cop. The one who got shot. He told me you saved his life,” the medic replied, still holding my foot.

I blushed. “Probably not.”

The medic was a young man – maybe not as young as me, but certainly still in his twenties. I could tell that he was trying to not let his eyes stray, but he wasn’t very successful. “To hear him tell it, I’d say you did,” he said. “Jumping on his gun arm … knocking it to the floor as he pulled the trigger.”

I was proud that I’d risen to the occasion, but he’d still gotten shot. I especially didn’t like that Bix was talking about it. “Okay, good to go?” I asked, pulling my foot free and standing up. Realizing how close I’d come to planting my cleanly shaven pussy in the guy’s face, I blushed, side stepping out from between him and the bed.

“Yup,” he replied, trying to act as if he hadn’t noticed. Getting to his feet, he continued, “I’m Seth, by the way. Seth Nelson.”

I shook his hand, but then scooted out the door before he could continue. I went looking for Nick, finding him right away. He didn’t know it, but he was with Catherine. “This guy’s a keeper,” she said, hugging him, her upper arms pressing her boobs together such that they were gripping his bicep.

“Why, you little minx,” I scolded, slapping at her.

Catherine tilted her head to the side and laughed, still pressing her nude body against him. A moment later, she sighed. “Okay.” After kissing Nick on the cheek, she let go, taking half a step back.

“That’s better,” I said. “But watch yourself. Nick’s mine.”

“She’s here?” he asked, glancing over in the direction I was looking.

“Yep, and being naughty,” I said, shooting her my evil eye.

A puzzled expression appeared on Nick’s face.

Glancing around at all the people milling about, I stepped close and whispered to him. “I’m feeling a little naked. Actually, a lot naked.”

“Okay,” he said, taking off his heavily-laden gun belt and untucking his shirt. “You can wear this … if you’ve had enough time with her.” My eyes met hers as he continued, “She might now disappear. For good this time.”

“I hope not,” I said in a small voice. Stepping close, I reached up and traced her jawline with the backs of my fingers. Speaking to her directly, I continued, “If you have to go, I understand, but I want you to know that I love you. Maybe we can’t be together, but…” I was getting choked up. “I’m a better person because of the time we’ve had together.” I didn’t want to be saying goodbye, but Nick was right. This might be my last opportunity to say what needed to be said. “And … maybe, one day, we’ll meet again.”

“But not too soon, I hope,” she said. “A long, happy life. That’s what I want for you. You should make babies … probably with this guy.”

She was making me laugh and cry – at the same time. “Probably not,” I said, eyeing Nick. “But one day, in heaven. We’ll be best buds. And we’ll both be able to drink. We should get drunk together.”

She smiled. “I love you too, Jessa,” she said through her tears. We were both crying. Nick had an arm around me, trying to comfort me. It was an emotional, bittersweet moment. Had we not found the killer, I wouldn’t be facing the loss of my bestie.

As Nick unbuttoned his shirt, I glanced down at where he’d set his gun belt. His bulletproof vest was there. Next to it was the body cam. I pointed at it. “Nick, can you destroy that or delete what’s on it … something … please?”

He shrugged, “I’m afraid not. There would be serious repercussions. But look,” he said, reaching down and pushing the vest aside. My eyes caught sight of a second camera. “I asked Bix for his. He was more than happy to give it to me. And he guessed why I was asking. He said, ‘anything for her’ as he handed it over.”

“So there is something you can do?”

I knew the video those cameras held was incriminating, and in two ways. There were lots of images of my naked body, but possibly more importantly, they surely revealed that we’d had help inside the house. But as I considered that, I realized that that might not necessarily be bad. If those videos confirmed the existence of a ghost, then people might not think I was crazy – if I was somehow forced to tell the truth.

“I’m not sure what can be done. Cops have no ability to delete what is recorded on their body-worn cameras, but I’ll talk to the Captain. Everyone is going to want to see those clips. Maybe we can get a sympathetic judge to help us keep them out of the public eye. Maybe we’ll be able to convince him that there is no valid reason for anyone to have access. Indeed, they aren’t needed as evidence in the case against our serial killer.”

I nodded. I was glad Nick had possession of the cameras. It was also heartening to learn that Bixler might be persuaded to keep what had happened inside the house, certain aspects anyway, a secret.

Nick, now dressed in just a white v-neck tee, handed me his uniform shirt, badge and all. “Take your time,” he encouraged.

“Thanks,” I said, looking at Catherine. I again reached for her. Pausing to contemplate the look of my fingers in her translucent hair, I uttered one last ‘I love you’ before slipping the blue shirt on.

I turned away so I wouldn’t have to watch her disappear. I took a deep breath, attempting to return to the present.

The shirt was huge on me – short but decent – barely. Wiping my eyes, I started eyeing Nick’s belt – not his gun belt – the one holding up his pants. “May I?” I asked, reaching for it.

“Sure,” he said, unbuckling it and pulling it from the loops. “My pants stay up without it.”

I wrapped it around my waist. I had to tie it because the holes didn’t go in far enough, but it worked. It transformed Nick’s shirt into a dark blue mini dress, too short on the sides, but okay front and back – as long as I didn’t bend over.

Minutes later, I accompanied Officer Bixler down the stairs and out to the waiting aid car. The medics had him on a stretcher. I again told him how much I respected him. It was clear that he held me in high esteem as well, but I could tell that he was still processing what he’d witnessed. “I owe you a life debt, Jessa,” he remarked.

“Umm, about that … I mean, what you saw,” I whispered.

His eyes met mine. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything.”

“You’re not?”

“Can you give us a minute,” he said, speaking directly to the men who were carrying the stretcher.

“How about at the aid car,” the one of them who seemed to be in charge replied.

Officer Bixler nodded.

Once we were alone, Bixler continued, “I’m curious, but the last thing I want to do is make your life any more difficult than it’s already going to be. I mean, I saw what I saw. You were communicating with someone, something. But I don’t have to talk about that. Nick clearly knows more than I. I presume he’s not going to say anything.”

“He won’t,” I confirmed.

“So, we’re good,” he said, shrugging cheerfully. “Like I told you, I owe you a life debt. Just tell me what you need.”

I was almost overcome with emotion. “It was Catherine,” I blurted. “I can see her. Catherine Marshall’s ghost. One of the women that monster killed. The one I’m related to. The one I was talking about the night you and Nick caught me streaking. But I have to be naked, because she’s naked. She was naked when she died. I mean … to see her. To talk to her.”

I watched his eyes grow wide. “A real live ghost?” he asked.

I almost laughed. “Sort of. Maybe not the alive part.”

“Okay, I’ve got your back. Boy did that bullet cause a lot of amnesia! So much of what happened, I don’t remember.” He paused. “But Jessa, I hope to see you again soon. Whatever happens, let’s stay in touch.”

His eyes never left my face throughout our brief conversation. I was feeling the need for a pair of panties, but at least, for all intents and purposes, I was no longer nude.

Once I’d said goodbye to Bixler and the doors of the aide car had been closed, it started off. I looked down the street at the police barrier less than half a block away. One of the tripod-mounted cameras moved to allow the aid car to pass. I shivered, realizing all that those cameras might have captured.

Searching the ground behind one of the shot-up police cars, I found my clothes. I shook them to clear out the BB-sized glass pieces. I tried to speak to Nick again, but he was busy. Everyone had questions for him, and he was working to keep them all away from me. Thank God,

I crawled into the back seat of one of the least shot-up cars and changed into my clothes. After tossing Nick his shirt, I went between the houses across the street, hoping to avoid the press by taking the same route back. To my surprise, it worked. I reached the SUV and headed off. There was something I needed to do – right away. I wanted to visit grandma. Maybe if I hurried, we could get there before Catherine completed her journey.

A mile down the road, I realized I didn’t know where I was going. I knew the way from Stonefield, not from Hammonton. I pulled over to find Grandma Patty’s address on my app. I was glad to see that it was only a thirty minute drive. But even so, I was stressing. Was Catherine still with me? I was also starving. It was well past lunch time.

Almost to grandma’s, I found a secluded place to park and got into the back seat. Sliding down low, I stripped off my clothes. As I’d been sweating earlier, I even took off the candy necklace, tossing it into the center console.

“You again!” I said happily, giving Catherine a hug when she appeared. Initially, I hadn’t been able to feel her skin on mine – not at all. But now there was a slight tingle. The sensation warmed my soul.

“First order of business, lunch,” I said. “What would you like?”

“I don’t need anything.”

“At least a shake. I’m going to have one. That hamburger joint back there,” I said, turning and pointing out the back window at a take-out place we’d just driven past.

“I don’t need a shake. Don’t waste money on that. I don’t mind when it’s Nick. He has a salary. You don’t even have a job.”

She was right about that. I had student loans – undergraduate and graduate school. “It won’t go to waste. I’ll give it to grandma. Maybe she’d like an afternoon treat.”

She pondered that. “Okay. A raspberry shake. Strawberry or blueberry would be fine, too … anything berry.”

I slipped on my blouse and popped out the door. Half a second later I was climbing back in, getting into the driver’s seat. I was as quick as possible, so that no one would see that I was bare from the waist down. Given where we were parked, there wasn’t much risk of being seen, but even so it wasn’t something I was comfortable doing. I just didn’t want to waste time getting dressed and undressed.

On that same note, I wasn’t at all comfortable going through the drive-thru in just a shirt, especially one that didn’t go much below my navel, but again, I was in a hurry to get to grandma’s.

Ten minutes or so later, we were parked back in the same spot, Catherine and I again in the back seat. I was munching my grilled chicken burger while she admired her milkshake. She was pleased that raspberry had been on the menu.

Why couldn’t it always be like this, I lamented to myself. I’d had friends – lots of them. But I’d never felt this close to anyone before. Catherine felt like the sister I’d never had. And I’d just risked my life. I trusted her that much. And never before had I believed in a cause so deeply. It was all new territory for me. I’d always been the distant girl, the one who was able to look the other way and forget about things, about people – a loner who looked out for herself. Putting the needs of others above my own – that wasn’t something I had experience with. But it had felt good – real good.

Sitting there, I started flipping through a few news sites on my phone. ‘Naked Policewoman’ and ‘Nude but Fearless’ were trending. Even if not especially surprising, it was shocking, shocking enough to make my fingers tremble. On one site, I saw side-by-side images – both of them me. In one of them, I was nude. Fortunately, there were black bars – two of them – a long one spanning my nipples and a shorter one down below. They were just so small, side-boob and under-boob on full display. I’d certainly never owned a bikini that covered so little.

“Why can’t the black bars be bigger?” I complained aloud.

Catherine shrugged. She had moved over next to me and was peering at the images over my shoulder. “Your nipples are covered,” she said sheepishly, obviously trying to make me feel better.

“And my labia,” I quipped, but I was still angry. How could they be so insensitive? Didn’t they realize that the woman in the photos was a real live human being – complete with feelings?

Next to the ‘naked’ picture was one that had been taken a short time later. In it, I was wearing what looked as much like a hot little party costume as anything – a short, short policewoman’s dress. All I needed was an officer’s cap and a nightstick and I’d be ready for a college Halloween party. For someone who wasn’t particularly tall, just five-four, my legs did at times look quite long.

Bouncing around the web, I quickly managed to uncover a photo without the black bars. In comparison, it wasn’t quite as sharp – probably a cell phone image – but even so, a hint of my freshly shaven slit showed between my legs. My breath caught in my chest. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

I closed my eyes. It took a bit, but I succeeded at forcing myself to exhale. It seemed as if the earth was shifting below my feet. It was instantly obvious that my life would never again be the same.

Looking up, my eyes locked on Catherine’s. I shook my head and gave a nervous cough. “Well, those will always be there.”

“What do you mean?”

Attempting to unscramble my brain, I explained how there would be no way to get those images back off the web. How, for the rest of my life, potential employers, my in-laws, friends of my children (if I were to have children), everyone and anyone – would have instant access to naked photos of me.

“At least you look good.”

I considered arguing with her. That wasn’t the point. Actually, it was part of the problem. If the woman in the images didn’t have a nice, slender figure then not many people would bother with them. They’d be there, but they wouldn’t get much traction – not many people would end up seeing them. But even though I wasn’t at all happy about the photos, I was secretly glad that I’d shaved that morning. If the whole world was destined to see me, I didn’t want to be scruffy down there.

Throwing my phone into the front seat, I asked Catherine what it had been like for her in the house. She’d seen her murderer. Actually, she’d spent a fair amount of time with him before we’d entered. And not only that, she’d encountered dead bodies.

“Are you asking if I’ll have nightmares? You know I don’t sleep.”

“Well, mostly if it was difficult, emotionally speaking. You sure didn’t seem to be fazed by it.”

“I decided that I wasn’t going to let it get to me. As I imagined it, I’d waited forty years for that moment. It was my moment. My moment to rise to the occasion.”

“Our moment … our moment to shine. And you were awesome … a machine. That guy, he never stood a chance. He was always there, probably always living in Vermont. You may not have known it, but you were waiting for me. Providence threw us together. I’m not a religious person, so I’m not going to consider it beyond that. But somehow fate or destiny was in play. What happened today … I feel that it was preordained.”

Again our eyes met. There was pride written all over her face. I felt it too. What we’d accomplished, we’d accomplished together. It had made our bond stronger. No one could take that from us. We’d risen to the occasion.

I continued, “We could have messed it up. But we didn’t. We kicked some serious butt, you and I.”

I popped my last bite into my mouth, and tucked the garbage into the bag. It was time to get going. Grandma’s shake was melting. I dressed and got back behind the wheel.

“You’re Patty’s granddaughter,” the woman at the counter remarked as I signed in.

Keeping my head down, I mumbled a reply and hurried off. It might have been just an innocent observation, but if she’d seen the images of me… Well, I didn’t really want to know.

I knocked on grandma’s door but entered without waiting for a reply. She was in her tiny kitchen. Her face lit up and we hugged. I glanced around, looking for TVs.

Deciding to cut to the chase, I asked her, “Have you seen the news?”

“I glanced at the headlines,” she said, indicating a newspaper on her small kitchen table. “Why? Is something going on?”

“Only the newspaper? No TV news?” I asked.

“I prefer the newspaper, for news, anyway,” she replied.

I was glad. I was going to tell her, but I’d been hoping she hadn’t already heard.

I felt tears stinging the corners of my eyes as I contemplated what I was about to say. “We got him, grandma. We did it!” I said, biting my tongue to not throw in an f-bomb for emphasis. I held her close, emotion bubbling up inside me.

“Got who? What are you talking about?” she asked, trying to push back enough to see my face.

I let go. “Oh, this is for you,” I said, handing her the shake. I led her to her couch. “You sit here for a moment, and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, but what?” she asked, taking a seat.

“I’ve got to use the restroom. Oh, my God do I ever have to pee.” Truer words had never been spoken. It would have meant putting on my shorts, but I should have gone in and used the restroom at the hamburger place.

She pointed, but I knew where it was.

“And that shake, grandma. That’s Cathers’ favorite flavor, isn’t it? Raspberry.”

She took a draw in the straw, but then frowned. “Cathers only ever ordered chocolate.”

“Really?” I said, but I was about to pee my pants.

As soon as the door was closed, I dropped my shorts and sat down to relieve myself. I was shaking my head. I’d assumed that Catherine had ordered raspberry because it was her favorite flavor.

Once my bladder was empty, I started steeling my nerves for what I was about to do. I folded each item of clothing as I took it off.

“I ordered raspberry for her,” Catherine said as I added my panties to the pile. “Meant as a little gift for my sister. You said…”

“I know. I get it. I fucked up,” I said speaking softly. Here I was, about to try and convince my grandma that her dead sister was in the room, and I was already one strike down.

She shrugged.

“Okay. Are you ready?” I asked.

“You’re really going to do this?”

“Yep, let’s go,” I said, charging out before I lost my nerve.

Grandma Patty contemplated my naked form as I approached. A puzzled expression came over her face. “Jessa, is something wrong?”

“No, grandma. I’m fine,” I said, sitting down next to her. “And the shake. That was my misunderstanding. Cathers ordered it for you. Raspberry. A little present. I told her that I would give it to you so she said to get raspberry.”

I saw her looking at the shake. “Jessa, let’s not. And please … go get dressed.”

“No, grandma. She’s here. Cathers … on the couch with us.” I pointed to a spot opposite of where I was sitting. Catherine had taken a seat such that grandma was between us.

To my surprise, grandma started to get up. I took her arm. I wasn’t going to let her leave.

“Please, Jessa. I don’t know what has gotten into you. But get dressed, and then we can talk.”

“Grandma. I can see her, She’s here.”

“She’s not.”

“No! She is,” I insisted. “Ask me something. Something that only she would know.”

Grandma didn’t reply.

“Maybe it’s too much for her,” Catherine said.

“No. We’re doing this,” I said. But then I remembered something in my purse which I’d dropped just inside my grandmother’s front door. A second later, I was back, a small paper bag in my hand.

“Here grandma, one for each of us,” I said, pulling out three candy necklaces. “One for me,” I said slipping it on. “And one for you.”

She allowed me to put it on over her head. “And one for Cathers,” I added. I extended it to her, but it ended up down on the couch.

“Cathers loved these, didn’t she? In fifth grade, she wore one to school almost every day.”

I saw my grandma nod. “And not just fifth grade,” she said softly, looking over at the necklace on the couch next to her.

“Mrs. Wilcox. Wait … Miss Wilcox,” I said. “That was her fifth grade teacher.”

“I hardly remember the names of my own teachers, much less hers.”

“Grandma, she’s here … not in body but in spirit … an actual spirit. Her ghost is here … right now, with us … here in your apartment. And this morning, she and I … and quite a few police officers … we captured her killer. The serial killer.”

She looked at me. I could tell I wasn’t getting through.

“Tell her that my first record album ever was the Jackson 5. But that I didn’t buy it. I stole it. I stole it from her.”

I repeated Catherine’s words to Grandma Patty.

“I was so mad,” grandma said. “It was missing for weeks. Then I heard it. She was playing it … in her room on a toy record player … that little brat!” She turned and faced me. “How did you know that? From her diary?”

“Grandma, she’s here. You ask the questions.”

“Okay, let me see.” I could tell that she was thinking hard. “The station wagon, the one we towed the tent trailer with. What color was it?”

Catherine nodded as she started answering.

“She says it was red, faded red. A Plymouth. The back window rolled down with a crank. And that there were holes in the dash. Cathers wants to know if you remember how the holes got there.”

“I do, but do you?”

“I don’t, but I imagine she does,” I said, pausing to listen to Catherine’s reply. “She says she was bored. I guess your parents left you waiting in the car, and she took a ballpoint pen. I guess it never occurred to her that they’d be mad. But she started poking holes in the dashboard with the pen.”

“She did. Sometimes she was very naughty.”

“I was,” said Catherine. “But she was naughty, too. One time, she got mad and ran away. But it was cold and she didn’t have anywhere to go. She decided to spend the night in the doghouse … trying to stay warm cuddling up to Bandit. Mom and dad were worried sick. In the middle of the night … maybe 3am … she came in.”

I repeated all that to Grandma Patty.

“Bandit. I’d all but forgotten that dog. What a smelly mutt! But that night … I was so cold. I was shaking. They put me in front of the fire. Mom made me hot chocolate. I drank cup after cup.”

“And I kept putting marshmallows in for her. As soon as Patty’d eat one, I’d plop in another. I think I fed her half the bag,” Catherine said.

“And don’t forget the marshmallows,” I said. “Cathers was plopping them in. Says you ended up eating half the bag.”

Grandma was getting all teary-eyed. “What do you mean, half the bag? I ate half, she ate the other half. So together, the whole bag. She was drinking hot chocolate, too, you know.”

“It was a middle of the night party,” Catherine said. “So fun.”

I repeated her words.

“It was, but then I was grounded for a month,” grandma said.

Catherine chimed in, “Yep, but I helped her sneak out a time or two. One night, I ran interference so she could go on a date … well, to a movie with a boy she had a crush on. What was his name?”

“Tim something,” Grandma Patty replied after I repeated Catherine’s question.

The two of them went on and on like that, trading memories from childhoods that overlapped. They were ten years apart, so there were definitely things that one of them recalled that the other didn’t, but by and large, they talked about shared memories, with me providing the echo, repeating Catherine’s words so that her sister could hear them.

“See, grandma. She’s really here,” I said, wanting her to finally acknowledge that the ghost thing had fully clicked in her brain.

“Okay, then answer me this, Jessa. What was Cathers’ favorite TV show? The one that she made me watch with her.”

Catherine gave a cough of disgust. “Made her watch? Not true! She liked it, too. Wanted to watch … is more like it.”

I repeated her objection to my grandmother.

“Well, maybe. But what show?”

Catherine started whistling. I recognized the tune instantly! I knew it by heart. It was the theme song to The Andy Griffith Show, the one that Sheriff Taylor and his son Opie whistled at the start of every episode while walking along, carrying their fishing poles.

“No! Way!” I shouted, sitting bolt upright. “No! Frickin’ way!” A moment later, I was whistling along with her.

Even grandma joined in. The three of us whistled the entire song. The second time through, Catherine hopped up and started dancing, snapping her fingers to the beat.

I was giddy with excitement, a moment later I was up on my feet as well, whistling and dancing along with her. Suddenly feeling embarrassed to be dancing naked in front of my grandmother, especially given that she could neither see nor hear Cathers, I pulled Grandma Patty to her feet. She seemed reluctant at first, but gave in. For the rest of the song, the three of us danced, shaking our booties and snapping our fingers, while we whistled the tune.

“The Andy Griffith Show!” I exclaimed after the third time through, collapsing back down onto the couch. “But grandma. That was OUR show.”

“It was. And the sequel as well, Mayberry RFD,” she said, again taking her seat next to me. “But before that … it was Cathers’ favorite. It started with her. She got me hooked. So the first time around, it was OUR show … Cathers’ and mine. And then later, when you were the right age, I watched all those episodes again … with you.”

“And I watched them too … with the two of you,” Catherine said. “It was the three of us. I was there … for each and every episode.”

I started crying. I couldn’t help myself. It was too much. Cathers, my newest, bestest friend – she’d been there during my childhood. Just like my grandmother, she’d watched me grow up.

“I couldn’t wait for summer,” Catherine continued. “For you to come visit. The three of us. We’d pick up right where we’d left off … more Andy Griffith reruns!”

I had thought that this would be very emotional for Grandma Patty, and it was. I hadn’t expected it to be every bit as emotional for me. I’d imagined that I was used to the idea of being able to see a ghost. But this was too much. Cathers, my great aunt, she’d been a part of my childhood. I’d fallen in love with The Andy Griffith Show – because of her. The three of us had watched all those episodes together! I found myself wishing that I’d been able to see her back then. Better yet, that she’d been alive so that we could have really been together.

“Jessa, you are a beautiful woman, but don’t you think you should get dressed?”

I chuckled. We’d talked so long, and grandma still didn’t know why I was naked. I decided to start at the beginning – with the skinny dipping – telling her how Catherine and I had first met. I explained that seeing her required me to be naked – that I didn’t understand why, but that was how it worked. I was very careful to leave out details that might lead her to think that Catherine might have been raped.

She’d known about the discovery of Catherine’s remains, so I picked up the story from there, ultimately explaining how Cathers and I had helped the police capture her killer. I left very little out. And because I knew she’d see them soon enough, I showed her website images on my phone – photos that had been taken from the police barricade, specifically those with the strategically located bars.

I did my best to make sure she understood why I had been naked, explaining how Cathers, unseen by everyone but me, had directed the operation. She seemed to be following along, but I knew it was a lot to grasp, especially all at once. And even though there were reasons, completely logical reasons, for all that I had done, she was still shocked that he granddaughter had been naked in public. On that topic, we were in complete agreement. I knew why I had done what I had done, and yet I was still in a state of shock.

In all, the three of us talked for over two hours. It ended up being a heartwarming experience – gratifying to be able to bring these two sisters together after lives spent apart. But then it was time to go. I communicated their goodbyes to one another, and then I dressed.

Grandma decided to walk me out. To my surprise, there were a lot of people in the facility’s lobby – a great many residents, but also staff.

As we entered, a hush fell over the room. Glancing around, I saw everyone turn and look at me. A few of them nodded respectfully as they shuffled back, opening up a wide pathway. I didn’t know what to make of the situation. A lone person clapped, a single clap. A second solid clap rang out. One by one, the crowd joined in. A steady, slow, rhythmic clap. Involuntarily, my hands shot up, covering my face. My cheeks were warm, hot even. They were clapping for me?

Oh my, God, was I ever not cut out for this. My heart raced, continuing to pump blood to my face. Wanting to hide, I hugged my grandmother. No one spoke, but everyone in the room seemed to be aware of the news. I knew they had no idea why I had been naked – just that the police were crediting me with the capture of Patty’s sister’s murderer – a serial killer – that, supposedly thanks to me, he’d been taken alive.

It was overwhelming. I attempted a smile, but squeezing my grandmother’s hand, I pulled her along toward the exit. I needed to get out of there. Suddenly feeling exposed, with my free hand I reached up to pinch the lapels of my blouse together. Fortunately, no one attempted to waylay us.

Out in the parking lot, after giving grandma another hug and saying goodbye, I got in the car and headed for home. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. It was a lonely drive even though I was certain Catherine was with me. I was in quite a state, my thoughts jumping all around. Eventually I managed to calm down a bit.

The road near the entrance to our driveway was packed. The media was there in full force. Reporters with microphones started waving and shouting questions. I slowed but didn’t stop, forcing them to move out of the way. I kept my window rolled up as I drove, my eyes focused on a point on the hood of my car to avoid all the eyes staring in at me.

The police were there, too. They managed to open up a path as I nosed into the driveway. Just a short distance in, I had to stop. There was a police barrier, small, but otherwise much like the one in Hammonton. One of the officers opened it to admit me. That man, a policeman I’d never seen before, tipped his cap respectfully as I drove by.

Past the barrier, the driveway was empty. As I parked, the family came out onto the porch. I wasn’t looking forward to this, but fortunately Nick was with them.

Mason ran down the steps as I opened the door. “Fucking awesome, Jess! You broke the Internet,” he said as I stepped out. “It’s been five or ten years since that’s happened. This new Internet – no one thought it would ever happen again.”

“Delightful,” I cringed, realizing that my brother had been surfing the web. He’d seen the photos. Of course he had. The whole world was getting the opportunity. I glanced up at my parents. Surely they had seen the images as well. Hopefully, they wouldn’t talk about it – about the nudity.

My mother’s blank expression caught my eye. The absence of emotion in her eyes said it all. The progress we’d made that summer – clearly gone. No surprise there. She’d always been quick to judge.

Nick put an arm around me, and I found myself leaning into him for support. His lips came to rest against my forehead. At least he understood; he knew why I’d been naked. It was nice to again be together – to be in his arms. All everyone else knew, as I imagined it, was that I’d led a successful police raid. It probably wasn’t so much that I’d been naked – but rather all the speculation surrounding my nudity in the context of a police raid – that was clogging the Internet. At least, that was my best guess.

“Did you get fired?” I asked softly, looking up into his eyes.

He smiled. “Fired? Hell no … well, time will tell. But maybe even in line for a promotion.”

A promotion seemed unlikely, but he deserved it.

“Captain Evers, too, I believe.”

“You’re kidding. That guy? He told you to…”

“I know, but he was in charge. That’s how these things work. He gets the credit. But the entire police force. We won today. And thanks to you … you and Cathers … only two officers were injured.”

“Two?” I asked, looking up. I’d seen mention of two officers being in the hospital in a headline, but there hadn’t been any more information in the body of the article.

“Yes, Bixler and one of the officers who went by to question the suspect this morning, Erin Guerrero. She was wearing a vest, but a bullet hit her in the side. It shattered a rib and went on into her chest cavity.”

“But the vest?”

“The newer vests protect the sides as well. Wraparound, they’re called. But ours only have the Kevlar panels front and back. I just heard that her condition has been upgraded to ‘stable.’ One of the doctors said that, with a little luck, she might make a full recovery. And Bix is doing great. He should be up and walking, maybe in a couple of weeks.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I was glad Bixler was going to be alright. Because he’d taken a bullet, our operation hadn’t been an unadulterated success.

Feeling the need for a greater degree of privacy, I pulled Nick to the trees on the other side of the parking area. Bixler wasn’t going to talk and I’d told grandma everything, swearing her to secrecy. I knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t say anything either. But if I kept telling people, or if he told people, then it was going to get out. If people heard talk of a ghost, I’d go from being a nude heroine, to being a naked psycho. The first was bad enough. The latter, unthinkable. Maybe what was on the body cams would bail us out, but I didn’t want to take that chance. Also, I was naked in those videos. And what was even worse, they were taken from up close – and from all angles. I was crossing my fingers that Nick would find a way to keep them under wraps.

Fortunately, Nick agreed with me entirely, but he confessed something that was cause for concern. “During a press conference, I told the reporters that you’ve been involved with the investigation all along. To me, it makes more sense that you were there today, in the eyes of the media and the public, if they know that. I even told them that you were the source of ‘the anonymous tip’ that led to the discovery of the initial sets of human remains.”

“You did? Really?” I was surprised, but maybe he was right. If I’d had no involvement – none whatsoever – what reason might I give for being at the scene and why might I have ended up leading the assault on the front door? That had been widely reported – that I had been first to the door and then had entered the house ahead of the two officers. I continued, “When asked, I don’t know how I’ll explain where the information about the junkyard came from. We both know that’s not in Catherine’s diary.”

“Don’t even try. Just say that you became obsessed with finding out what happened to your grandmother’s sister. That you began pursuing every angle to get the police to reopen the investigation into the decades-old case relating to her disappearance.”

“Hmm… That might work with the media … answering a different question than the one asked. Politicians do it all the time, but what about the trial? Won’t I be put on the stand? I won’t be able to get away with that under oath?”

“I doubt there will be a trial.”

I gasped. “No trial?” I didn’t like the sound of that.

“I expect he’ll be offered a plea deal. No death penalty in Vermont, so the bargaining chip others states have? Well, not available to us. But he’ll be offered something in exchange for information leading to the remains of other victims.”

“And if he cooperates … might he one day go free?”

“Not a chance,” Nick replied.

I wasn’t so sure, but I hoped he was right. “Nick, on social media, people are already referring to me as the ‘Naked Policewoman,’ and that was before you told them…”

He chuckled. “Yep. I expect the name will stick. But this is a big deal. You deserve the credit. You and Cathers, but we can’t very well mention her…”

“Certainly not,” I interrupted.

We’d started back toward the others, when Nick turned to me. “Oh, one more thing. I have a special request. The candy necklace. Can I have it?” he asked, pointing at it.

“This? Whatever for?” I asked, slipping a finger inside and stretching it out an inch or two from my neck.

“Kim wants it. Kim Spencer. You know … my friend with the cabin.”

“I have more. She can have one in a wrapper.”

“She doesn’t want just any candy necklace. She wants THE candy necklace. The one from the raid.”

“That’s not this one. I put this one on at grandma’s.”

“Do you have the other one?”

“It’s in the car, but why?”

“Her charity. She’s thinking of a benefit auction. Given that it appeared in all the photos, even those from after … when you were wearing my shirt. She thinks it has real value. She imagines that it might bring enough for a year of college for one of the kids.”

“Really? A sweat-soaked candy necklace … a year of college? Well, if that’s possible, then absolutely.”

Walking back, we stopped by the car and I fished it out of the center console.

“She’s going to ask you to sign something … a letter to go with it … indicating authenticity,” he said, accepting it from me.

“Would my name have to be on that?”

“Your name? The media hasn’t reported it yet, but that’s coming. No way to conceal your identity, not at this point.”

I pressed my lips together, breathing in slowly through my nose. I didn’t like hearing that, but it wasn’t really a surprise. The people at grandma’s assisted living facility, for example – they’d put two and two together.

There was lemonade, watermelon, and fresh chocolate chip cookies in the backyard. That’s where we found the family. My father – he looked up and smiled at me as we came around the corner of the house. His love was unconditional. My mother’s love for me? Well, suffice it to say, she did not look up. Our eyes did not meet. A murderer was in captivity, but I was back on the naughty list.

Half an hour later, I retreated into my room for a nap. Capturing a killer, not to mention spending the afternoon naked with one’s grandmother – things like that – could really take it out of a person.

When I got up a few hours later, it was still light out. After washing my face, I made my way downstairs. Nick had gone, clearing the way for Mason. In an instant, he was on me. He wanted the whole story. His pestering was nonstop. My dad was making an effort to shield me, but I imagined that it was mostly an act. Surely he too was hoping I might start explaining why I had taken my clothes off to lead the police raid on the house. Who could blame him – any of them? I’d lived a crazy existence – not nearly that crazy.

But with grandma, the story had taken forever. And as I’d discussed with Nick, I didn’t feel as if I could keep telling people about Catherine. My mom, on the other hand, I could tell that she had written me off. She was acting as if I no longer existed. It all added up to a situation that was exceedingly uncomfortable. It didn’t help that we were living under siege conditions. The police barrier was still across the driveway – thank God – for the media was lurking just beyond.

I slipped back upstairs to call Nick. “You gotta get me outta here,” I whispered insistently into my phone. “I can’t take any more of this.”

“I’m on it,” he replied. “Let me make a few arrangements. I’ll come and get you.”

“How soon?”

“Sixty minutes. Tops.”

“Thirty, please,” I pleaded under my breath.

He laughed, but told me he’d do his best.

After hanging up, I latched my bedroom door and stripped off in hopes that Catherine would be there. “Oh my God,” I said, shaking my head. I saw the compassion in her eyes; she understood what I was going through. I stood there for a moment, looking at her. As always, it was a surreal experience. Glancing down at her natural bush, I chuckled to myself.

“What?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“It’s that goatee between your legs. I just can’t get used to it.”

My words prompted Catherine to drop both of her hands such that she was covering herself fig leaf fashion. “Better?” she asked.

I smiled, shifting my stance to match hers and moving my hands such that my crotch was also covered. “Now we look exactly alike,” I observed. “Sometimes, looking at you, I swear I feel like I’m looking at my reflection.”

We stood like that, staring at one another. It really did feel as if I was seeing myself in the mirror – even though she was translucent.

As I watched, Catherine started turning her head slowly to the left. It was obvious that she was offering me the opportunity to attempt to mirror her movement, which I did. We took turns taking the lead – playing that childhood game. It was fun and pleasantly distracting, but just for a minute or two. I needed to pack.

With Catherine making suggestions, I started pulling clothes out of my closet and the dresser. I didn’t know how much to take, but I filled my smaller suitcase, packing enough so I’d be good for a few days without needing to do laundry.

“Where are you going, dear?” my mother asked when I came downstairs, suitcase in hand.

I looked at her curiously. She’d said, ‘dear.’ Maybe she hadn’t given up on me?

“Truthfully, I don’t know. Nick’s taking care of that.”

There was suspicion in her eyes. I’d lied to her before – many times. Why should she trust me now? In that moment, I decided I wasn’t done trying. We’d made too much progress to give up so easily. I stepped close, surprising her with a hug. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can, mom. I’ll call you tonight,” I whispered into her ear.

I felt her nod, as she hesitantly returned my embrace. There was a hint of warmth. We’d been battling for years, but just maybe, deep inside, the mother–daughter bond was still intact. Maybe not quite ‘intact’ in the true sense of the word, but it seemed as if there might still be hope for us.

As we separated, I found myself thinking about how different it was to hold my mother as compared to Catherine. But that only made sense. Catherine didn’t have a body. Maybe she was just energy – energy on a wavelength no one but me could tune in to.

Next, I gave both Mason and my father hugs. Mason just wouldn’t let up. He was still bombarding me with questions.

Different from my mother, my father acted as if he understood why I wasn’t in a position to talk about certain things. Without mentioning my nudity specifically, my father shushed Mason, saying that it was for the best. The media would most likely be asking them questions. If they didn’t know anything, they couldn’t slip up. I thought that was a curious comment. He seemed to comprehend that there were details that couldn’t be shared.

Minutes later, Nick arrived. Opening the trunk of the police cruiser, he put my suitcase inside. “You’re not going to like what I’ve come up with.”

“I’m not? Why not? Where are we going?”

“It’s not that. It’s how we’re getting there. But you can refuse.”

“Why would I do that?” I said, walking around to the passenger door.

“Just take a moment to consider the options before you say no.”

I turned to face him. “Okay.”

“The media … they know you’re here. And they know I’m here. I just drove through them; they swarmed around the car, peering in all the windows. Now, if you and I drive out together, they’ll follow. But if I drive out alone, they won’t. They’ll stay here. It’s you they want to talk to. I already told them all I’m going to say.”

“Alone? But … you came to get me?”

“I did, and we’re leaving together. But it will be much better if they stay here.”

I looked at the trunk. It was still open. “You don’t mean…” I said, pointing.

He nodded. “Like I said, you can refuse. It will be dark, and given what happened to Cathers…”

I gulped, looking over at my parents. They knew that her remains had been found in a trunk. As far as I knew, they didn’t know that was how she’d been transported, and how she’d died – not the specifics.

Deep in thought, I started chewing on the nail of a pinky finger. I walked around the car to peer inside. I’d never ridden in a trunk before. It would be uncomfortable – probably completely dark. The idea would have been distasteful even before I’d learned Catherine’s story.

Seeing that I was giving it some thought, Nick leaned into the trunk. “This is the emergency release lever,” he said, showing it to me. “It glows in the dark. Pull it and it pops open. Sadly, forty years ago, cars didn’t have them. Now, they all do.”

“And I’ll have my phone,” I said, trying to muster the courage.

“You will, and you will be fine. But I don’t want you to have nightmares. We both know…”

“Okay, okay,” I interrupted. “I think I can do it.” I didn’t want him bringing up Catherine in front of my family.

“And it’s only about ten minutes. That’s all it will take.”

“Ten minutes,” I repeated quietly to myself. That was enough time to go anywhere in Stonefield, but not farther.

“I’ll get you a pillow,” my father said, turning to go into the house.

A minute later, he was back with the pillow as well as a blanket. Nick had already spread out one blanket, the one he carried in his trunk. It was a big trunk, but it looked like it might be tight, especially given that my suitcase was there. I considered suggesting that he move it to the back seat, but decided against it. The reporters might notice it there. It looked as if Nick had mostly emptied out his trunk before coming for me.

“You don’t know how to weld, right?” I asked, putting a foot up on the bumper.

“Jessa, I would never…”

“I know. Rotten sense of humor, right? But … you trusted me this morning. My turn to trust. I can do this. At least, I think I can.”

Once I was situated, on my side, my legs drawn up so that I fit, Nick asked, “Ready?”

I nodded. “Goodbye, cruel world,” I quipped, hoping a little comedy might settle the butterflies in my stomach.

Nick closed the lid before anyone had the chance to respond, plunging me into darkness. I reached over and touched the lever. I couldn’t see it, but I expected that I’d be able to once my eyes had adjusted. I considered testing it, but decided not to. That would only prolong things.

Barely twenty seconds later, Nick started the motor and we were off.

“This is scary,” I mumbled to myself, trying to calm my nerves. Seconds later, it occurred to me that Catherine might have climbed into the trunk with me. Hopefully, she was riding up front, but there was no way to know. But if she was with me – Oh, my God – wouldn’t the experience be traumatic for her?

Deciding to assume she was there, I raised an arm. “Cathers, if you’re here, take my hand. You don’t have to do this alone. I don’t have to do it alone. We’ll do it together.” Imagining that her hand was in mine, I closed my fingers about what would be the right amount. There it was, the tingly sensation I’d noticed earlier in the day while hugging her. A shiver rippled along my spine.

I felt like giving her a piece of my mind, chastising her for being so fucking stupid. Instead, I closed my eyes and exhaled to calm down. I was angry at her, but giving voice to that emotion would be counterproductive.

“I love you, Cathers,” I said, listening for a reply. I heard nothing but the motor and muffled voices of the reporters as Nick drove through their ranks. Suddenly, I was wishing that I’d tested the emergency release. Knowing for sure that it worked, that I could open the trunk if I wanted to, would have made me feel better. But the chance to verify that it worked had come and gone. We were underway and there were people around the car.

Moments later, we turned onto the main road. The car sped up. “Just ten minutes,” I said, trying to reassure her, trying to reassure myself.

To Be Continued…

 
 

Author’s note: If you are reading and enjoying Jessa Meets Her Match, I would love to hear from you! You may comment here on the storyboard (as ‘anonymous’ or register and give yourself a name). Alternately, feel free to send me an email: BPClavel@gmail.com
Very best regards,
Blair P. Clavel

 
 

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