by Anna Burke
Alexis sighed once again at that vision of her daughter. As she stood in the half-light of the ICU, gazing upon her daughter now, the contrast was startling. She felt a twist in the vicinity of her heart, perhaps the stirrings of something maternal.
“I should be in that hospital bed, not you, Jessica.” She murmured, reaching out to touch her daughter’s pale face. Voices, and the sound of the door opening, caused Alexis to turn as Bernadette entered the room. Two steps behind, Hank Huntington strode into the room.
3 Disneyland Anyone?
“Look who I found,” Bernadette announced, whispering, as she entered the hospital room. Alexis caught her breath at the sight of the tall, broad-shouldered, man who was once her husband. His dark hair, now gray at the temples, sported a classic cut. His handsome, rugged face bore a worried expression that deepened the lines age had put there. Hank wore chinos, and a buttoned down shirt. No tie or blazer, but a bombardier jacket and sturdy, no nonsense shoes on his feet. Clothes he wore when he was not in the office, but at a work site. Even without the mustache, something about Henry Randolph Huntington always reminded Alexis of Clark Gable. Perhaps it was his lopsided grin or the glint in his dark eyes. Neither was evident at the moment.
“How is she doing?” Hank asked as he stepped toward Jessica’s bedside.
“I think she’s doing okay, Hank, but Nurse Andrews can tell us more after she’s gone through her routine.”
A nurse bustled into the room. She had stepped around Hank and Bernadette, reaching Jessica first. Her face was expressionless as she moved around the room checking equipment. She tugged here and there at a wire and read information displayed on machines that pinged, pulsed and whirred. She wrote information on a chart as she worked. Then she addressed Jessica in a clear, calm voice as she reached out and grasped Jessica’s wrist.
“Ms. Huntington, Jessica, wake up. We need you to wake up, hon.” Jessica’s eyes fluttered open, but then closed again. “Jessica, I know you’re sleepy. We need you to wake up for a few minutes. Look, you have visitors.”
Roused, again, Jessica kept her eyes open longer and scanned the surrounding room. When her eyes landed on Hank, she smiled.
“Dad, what are you doing here? You okay, you’re in a hospital?”
“I’m fine, Jinx, but how about you?” he asked, that lopsided grin now on his face. Jinx was short for Jessica Alexis, a name given to her when, at age four, she demanded to have a nickname, like Hank. Later, in her ‘tweens’, using that pet name could set off a drama queen episode. Jessica deemed it humiliating and an effort to blame her for her parents’ divorce. No one blamed her, but it was a way of taking responsibility for her parents’ failed relationship. Jessica told Alexis later; a childish effort to find control over a situation where she had none. Now, in her groggy state of mind, hearing that name caused her to smile, but also to express alarm.
“I am a jinx, Dad. Did you know I fell off a mountain? I guess I’m okay. Am I okay?” she asked the nurse, struggling to focus her eyes on the woman who was bustling around again. The nurse bent over Jessica, checking the IV site where they were pumping Jessica full of who-knew-what, including some damn good pain meds.
“Yes, you’re okay. Remarkably well, I’d say, considering you fell off a mountain.” That comment broke through the nurse’s clinical detachment and she smiled a real smile at Jessica.
“So she’s really okay, Nurse Andrews?” Alexis asked.
“Yes, I think so. Dr. Welch will be here soon. It will be his call, but I bet we’ll be taking this young woman out of here.” She smiled again. Jessica’s eyes widened.
“Yay, did you hear that Bernadette? We’re all going home, isn’t that good news?” She asked, with a loopy grin on her face. Then her face brightened. “Better tell the Cat Pack.”
“You can’t go home yet, Baby Girl,” Alexis said, speaking in a calm voice. “Somebody needs to turn down that drip,” she added. “We don’t have a cat.”
“I can ‘splain that part. Let’s hope it’s not that bump on the head that’s got her all loosey-goosey,” Bernadette said as she handed Alexis a large cup of coffee.
“Ooh, coffee, Bernadette. Aw, that is soooo sweet. It’s just what I need.” Jessica struggled, raising an arm to make a grab for her mother’s cup. “Ouch, oh ow,” she winced, grabbing at her sore ribs.
“No coffee yet,” the nurse interjected, moving to restrain Jessica. “Let’s see what the doctor has to say. Stay put, and I’ll raise the head of the bed a little.” The nurse hit a button, changing the angle of the bed by a few inches.
“Dad, do something. You have coffee. I want... Wow, will you look at this?” She was staring at her arms. One was in a cast and the other hooked up to an IV. There were other wires attached to her, leading to the equipment in the room. “I’m Pinocchio.” She moved one arm and then tried to move the other, pinned to her side. She sank down onto the pillow and yawned as though that small amount of effort wore her out. Then her eyes popped open again.
“Hey, that’s a good idea, isn’t it? Let’s all get out of here and go to Disneyland. What a wonderful day to go to the happiest place on earth!” She pointed the one arm she could move in the general direction of her father. “Don’t let me jinx myself again though, Dad. I better not fall off Sleeping Beauty’s castle, or the Matterhern,” she giggled, then yawned again. “The Motorhorn, no, no, I mean the...” Jessica didn’t even finish her sentence before drifting off. A loud snort left no doubt she was down for the count.
“Nurse Andrews, Alexis has a point. Can’t you back off on the meds some?” Hank asked.
“Sure, I can adjust it a little. We’re almost at the low end of what’s left on order for her. I’m sure the doctor will make a change. He’s on the floor, so it won’t be long now.” She twisted a knob on the apparatus holding the IV bag suspended above Jessica’s bed.
~~~~~
Several hours later, they had whisked Jessica out of the ICU and into a private room elsewhere in the hospital. By noon she was more lucid and able to have lunch if you can call a dish of gelatin and some soupy substance lunch. Jessica had not objected, but looked grim.
“If that stays down, Jessica, I can bring you some pudding or ice cream to hold you over until dinner time. That will be a real meal, okay?” Jessica nodded in acquiescence to Nurse Andrews, still too drugged up to put up much of a fight.
Simple hospital fare would have to do. She sipped the broth and put away the gelatin, like a good patient. That got an approving smile from Nurse Andrews. But no coffee, now that was harder to take. She lusted after the large cups of coffee Bernadette and her parents each held, but said nothing. She did not want to cause a ruckus. They looked worried enough. The pain meds dulled, but did not quell, the guilt about being at the center of yet another calamity. She gave them a brief account of what had gone on, minimizing how bizarre the episode was.
“I’m sorry to worry you all. Please go home and get some rest. They will take care of me. They’ll probably just knock me out again for the afternoon.”
“Okay, honey. I could sure use a shower and a shave,” Hank had said, bending over his daughter to give her a kiss.
“Me, too,” Bernadette said. “The shower, not the shave.” She smiled and gave Jessica a little wink. She looked so tired. They all did. Why not? All three had been up all night as she learned when they filled in the blanks about what happened after her tumble off the boulder overlook.
“We’ll come back tonight, Chica. I asked that nurse if we can bring you somethin’ else to wear that doesn’t hang open in the back. She says that's good as long as it’s loose. They can help you put it on in the morning after they clean you up. I’m getting your muumuus from Maui, okay?” Bernadette brushed the hair back off Jessica’s forehead, then placed a tender kiss there. Jessica did her best to pat her back as she had done with her dad. That was hard to do with her right hand bandaged and still hooked up to the IV. Her left arm in a cast and supported by a sling, was held s
nug against her body. An ice pack was strapped to her ribs to soothe the pain. She felt trapped by it all.
“Thanks, Bernadette that would be great. If they let me out of here tomorrow I could wear that home.”
“Don’t rush matters, Jessica,” Alexis said. “But I hope you get out of here soon, darling.” She reached out to pat her daughter’s bandaged hand and brushed her cheek with a kiss.
“Thanks, Mom. I’m so glad you were here last night. You have to be exhausted. I’m sorry to do this...” The meds given to her with her meager lunch must have been kicking in. She was losing her train of thought. Her mother had tears in her eyes as Hank put an arm around her shoulders, escorting Alexis and Bernadette to the door. Jessica managed one last “Thanks,” before dropping off for a nap.
Jessica dreamed of falling through empty space. At first she was flailing about and falling fast. Then she slowed. Bodies fell—Roger Stone, her best friend’s husband, cold and dead, his eyes closed. Poor Roger, his murder solved, his death still made no sense. Jessica watched as Roger continued to fall into an abyss below. Jessica was desperate for a way to stop her fall when her dead friend, Kelly, appeared. An angelic figure, her pale eyes shone. Her red hair and lustrous gown kept her suspended. Jessica reached out, but instead of grasping Kelly, she grabbed hold of a strap or rope. It sliced into the palm of her hand. She released it and the lovely image of Kelly vanished, leaving Jessica dangling at the end of a rope wrapped around her waist.
Awakened in a state of sadness and disappointment, the loss of her childhood friend was fresh in her mind. Jessica’s right hand throbbed, but that was not as painful as the ache in her heart from being reminded of Kelly’s sad end. She took some comfort from that vision—so much like the image of Kelly alive, the one that had captivated and endeared her to Jessica. Despite the troubles that tormented Kelly and led to her untimely death at nineteen, Jessica loved her, as did so many others. They all still missed her. Love isn’t always enough, Jessica thought as she wept. Not from the pain in the palm of her hand, but from terror and loss, played out over and over during the last few months.
Jessica’s mind and body ached for sleep to avoid the perplexity aroused by those questions. That dream had made one thing clear. Jessica wouldn’t rest until she found out what was going on with Libby Van Der Woert. Not her friend, or a client, Libby was another miserable young woman, like Kelly, in serious trouble. What could that be? Could Jessica figure it out before Libby met Kelly’s fate? I can and I must, throw myself into the thick of human endeavor, and with no stopping for breath. Those words from a book Father Martin had given her, Chardin’s Hymn of the Universe, passed through her mind as she drifted back to sleep. She would try to save Libby.
4 The Scoop
“Oh my God, Jessica, you look like hell! Again!” Tommy rushed into the room and flew to Jessica’s bedside. “You’re broken!” Tommy’s sweet pixie face was cast in a shadow of concern. Tommy, like a younger brother, was always up to something around Jessica. He was, in fact, Kelly’s younger brother. When she died, Jessica stepped into the role of big sister.
“Nothing permanent, Tommy. One arm and it’ll heal. Careful, though, I haven’t figured out, yet, where I hurt and don’t hurt.” Tommy slowed down as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Jessica’s face, in a spot without a scratch or a bruise.
“These are for you, Jessica,” Jerry Reynolds said. A P.I. with the law firm Jessica worked for, he was also Tommy’s smoking hot boyfriend. He was holding a vase loaded with a bouquet of jaunty yellow sunflowers and a small “get well” balloon.
“Those are gorgeous, you guys. Thanks.” Jerry moved around Tommy to give Jessica a peck on the cheek. Then, he looked for a spot to place the flowers.
“Others beat us to it, I see,” Jerry said, eyeing a bouquet with dozens of huge roses in creamy pale colors. Several more vases sat on surfaces around the room. “Paul Worthington, right?”
“Yes, those are from Paul. I have a vague recollection that he dropped them off earlier today, soon after they moved me in here. I was in pain after all the moving was over, so they knocked me out. I’ve been out of it since then. It’s my ribs that are giving the most grief. Not that I don’t hurt in plenty of other places, too. Unfortunately, I remember little of what went on with Paul. Hope I didn’t embarrass myself. Mom and Dad said I was babbling about Disneyland, of all things, when the nurse woke me up at the crack of dawn. I find that hard to believe, but Bernadette swears I was about to burst into a chorus of Zip-a-dee-doo-dah right before I conked out again. Geez, I hope I didn’t sing when Paul was here. The firm sent flowers, too.” She gestured to yet another bouquet, red roses with baby’s breath and greenery.
“And those amazing flowers are from the Van Der Woerts. Can you imagine that? They took time to send me flowers? They have to be devastated about Libby. She’s alive, but not in great shape. God knows what else they’re dealing with now that word is out about their daughter being mixed up in yet another fiasco. The news sure seems to have spread fast.”
“Not just fast, but relentlessly. They've replayed the rescue scene over and over. That started late yesterday afternoon when they first spotted you and Libby. It was still being rerun when we left the house today,” Jerry explained.
“I hope I didn’t scare the crap out of you guys. Thank goodness Mom and Bernadette didn’t find out what was going on until the police called them much later. By then, they at least knew I was alive. They reached Dad before he could be terrorized by media accounts involving his daughter.” Jessica closed her eyes, wondering how all of this had happened.
“We didn’t know it was you at first, either, or I would have been totally freaked, Jessica. Like everybody else, we thought it was another hiker-gone-wrong situation. We heard more was going on than a hiking mishap and knew they had rescued two women. Uncle Don called and told us it was you right before we heard it on the news. We came down here last night but they wouldn’t let us see you in the ICU. Bernadette told us that you really were okay and that we should come back today when they’d let you have visitors. Now, it’s all over the news you’re a hero, Jessica. Libby says you grabbed her by a strap on her shoulder bag or something. That didn’t stop her from falling, but it might explain how she landed near you on that ledge so the fall didn’t kill her.”
“I guess they won’t know how much damage she’s sustained until they bring her out of the sedated state she’s in,” Jessica said, staring out the window at her gorgeous surroundings.
Not a cloud could be seen in the azure desert skies. Sunlight glittered, diamond-like, on palms that swayed in the desert breeze. The sight ought to have triggered a rush of endorphins and caused her to sigh “ah, paradise!” Instead it struck a deeper chord, making her more aware that she had survived yet another brush with death.
It was late afternoon. She must have slept for hours after Bernadette and her parents left. Her head felt a lot clearer, now she was on less pain medication. Moving was uncomfortable, not just because of the sore ribs, but an assortment of bruises she was discovering one by one. Still, she was so lucky.
“Libby may be worse off than you, but at least she’s alive, Jessica. Not Dr. Carr who might have been dead even if he hadn’t fallen. He had a bullet hole in him before, you know, he took that dive off the mountain.” Tommy did a little mock jump, like off the end of a diving board.
“Stop it, Tommy, I doubt Jessica finds that funny,” Jerry said.
“It’s okay, Jerry. I’m used to him. How did you hear about that gunshot?”
“The media reported right away that a rescue was going on. They got even more interested when the rumors started about a shootout. Hikers were talking to reporters after they got back down off the tramway. Some of them said they heard gunfire and saw a dead guy. Reporters were talking about dead guy—even before the police knew his identity and notified his next of kin. That’s one reason Tommy’s Uncle Don called us. He was sure your name would get out, too, and didn’t want
us to hear about it on the news. He said his pals in the homicide division were not happy information got out about a shooting. By the time he called us, they had figured out the dead man was Dr. Carr, but they weren’t saying, yet, what killed him.”
“They won’t know for sure until they do an autopsy.” It made Jessica weary that she knew that much about how cops handled dead guys.
“They have a lot of questions for you, Jessica. What were you all doing up there, anyway?” Jerry asked.
“Yeah, what the hell happened before you fell off the mountain?” Tommy was about to do the nosedive again, but the look in Jerry’s eye stopped him.
“Shoved is more like it,” Jessica said. “What did Libby say?”
“Not much, Jessica. Uncle Don told us she came around long enough to say, ‘Jessica did it.’ At first, they thought she was talking about the shooting, or she was saying you caused the fall. Then she babbled on with ‘Jessica grabbed my shoulder strap,’ ‘I was falling and an angel saved me.’ Someone overheard her say that at the hospital or there’s a leak among first responders. That started all the ‘Huntington heiress, real-life guardian angel, saves troubled 90210 princess’ coverage that’s going on now. You know how the media fixates on that Beverly Hills zip code? Not just the housewives, but their spoiled kids, too. It also didn’t take long to figure out this isn’t the first time Elizabeth Van Der Woert has been in trouble. The media got on that, digging up old information about Libby’s past. That includes the drunk-driving accident, but other incidents too,” Tommy said.
“Did you know the police picked her up for shop-lifting last year?” Jerry asked.
