“I’ll run inside and get what I need,” Jessie said.
“Do you have a key?” I asked. Julie had told me where she kept one hidden under a rock near the front door.
Jessie pulled one from her jeans. “Yeah. I walked down the street the other day and had one made.”
“Does Julie know that?”
“No, but I need to be able to lock up when I go for a walk.”
As I waited for Jessie, I considered that she’d had the opportunity to run away since moving in with Julie yet had chosen to make herself at home. She walked down the steps with three plastic bags in her hands. She’d had only one when she left the jail.
“I’ve got more inside,” she said. “Julie likes to go shopping, and every time she buys something for herself, she gets something for me.”
At Mrs. Fairmont’s house, I fixed a cot for Jessie in the living area of my apartment. By the time I got ready for bed, Jessie appeared to be asleep.
T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING,
J
ESSIE WAS STILL ASLEEP WHEN
I
LEFT
for work. I wrote a note for Gracie telling her about Jessie so she wouldn’t be shocked when she found a young woman in the house. When I turned on my computer at the office, there was an e-mail from Julie written at 2:00 a.m. in the morning.
My dad has bacterial meningitis. He was probably exposed during a recent trip to Africa. They’ve transferred him to Emory for treatment and isolation.
A second e-mail at 6:00 a.m. read:
My dad is on very strong antibiotics. I’m going to stay here with my mom until he’s out of danger. I talked to Maggie about what’s going on in my cases. I hope Jessie is doing okay at Mrs. Fairmont’s house and can stay there till I come back.
Maggie arrived at the office a few minutes later and came in to see me. I was reading about bacterial meningitis on the Internet.
“What did Julie say about her father?” I asked. “All I got was a couple of e-mails.”
“It’s serious. Hearing loss, brain damage, seizures, or neurological injury is still possible. Hopefully, they can stabilize him at Emory.”
“Could we pray for him?”
Maggie gave me a startled look, then nodded. Without waiting for anything else, I immediately closed my eyes and poured out my heart for Julie’s father.
“Amen,” Maggie said when I finished. She had a tissue in her hand.
M
AGGIE AND
I
SPENT THE FIRST PART OF THE MORNING DIVIDING
the work that couldn’t wait in Julie’s cases. I ended up with a few divorce cases at the discovery stage. Organizing financial records was something I could do well, even though I didn’t like being indirectly part of the breakup of a marriage.
“If there has to be a hearing in any of these cases, I’ll handle it,” Maggie said, perhaps sensing my reluctance.
“I want to help Julie, it’s just that—”
“You help her in the best way you can; I’ll do my part,” Maggie responded.
I called Mrs. Fairmont, who received the news about Jessie staying a few more days without raising any objection. Late in the afternoon, I received an e-mail from Julie letting me know that her father was responding well to the antibiotics. She ended it by writing, “Maggie told me about your prayer. Thanks.”
W
HEN
I
GOT HOME THAT EVENING,
M
RS.
F
AIRMONT AND
J
ESSIE
were already in the kitchen fixing supper. Chef ’s salad ingredients were spread across the counter. Jessie had obviously taken a shower; her hair was still damp, and she was wearing new clothes. Flip lay in the corner beside his water bowl watching the activity.
“Where did that outfit come from?” I asked.
“Christine bought them,” Mrs. Fairmont said.
“What?”
Mrs. Fairmont finished rinsing the lettuce in a colander and put it on the counter.
“She came by to meet Jessie and took her on a quick shopping spree.”
Jessie turned around so I could admire her new shirt, pants, and sandals.
“She bought me deodorant, two kinds of shampoo, conditioner, even a pair of earrings. I’ve had my ears pierced twice, but they always grew back because I didn’t have the right kind of earrings.” Jessie touched her thrice-pierced ears. “These are 14-karat gold.”
“What did you tell Mrs. Bartlett?” I asked Mrs. Fairmont. “Does she know that last week Jessie was in jail?”
“That wasn’t necessary. Once Christine heard Jessie’s story, she was more than willing to help.”
“Story?”
Jessie spoke. “That I came to Savannah three months ago to help take care of my aunt who was dying from cancer. When she passed away I had no place to go. I couldn’t return home because my step-mother had a new boyfriend who didn’t want me around the house. Then I met you, and you were kind enough to tell Julie and Mrs. Fairmont about my predicament.”
“Predicament?” I asked.
“You should have told me about her aunt,” Mrs. Fairmont chided me. “Jessie really is qualified to help take care of me.”
I clenched my jaw and glared at Jessie. I silently mouthed the words,
I’ll talk to you later
.
“What do you think of this beautiful salad we’ve put together?” Mrs. Fairmont asked cheerfully. “Isn’t it nice that you don’t have to come home after working hard all day and fix supper?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We sat at the dining room table. Mrs. Fairmont said the blessing. Jessie sat with her hands folded and her eyes closed.
“That was a good prayer,” she said when Mrs. Fairmont finished.
“Thank you. I’m not an expert prayer like Tami, but I’m learning more about it in my old age. Tonight, I’m going to put Julie’s father on my prayer list.”
“Could we pray together sometime?” Jessie asked her.
I couldn’t tell if Jessie was serious or asking for show.
“That would be wonderful. We can put your family on my list.”
“Especially my cousin Barry. I haven’t seen him in over a year.”
“What’s Barry’s last name and where does he live?” I asked. “I’m sure Mrs. Fairmont would like to have his full name on her prayer list.”
“He’s not a Whitewater,” Jessie answered.
“Barry is enough for me,” Mrs. Fairmont said.
We settled into the meal. I had to admit the salad was delicious.
“How are Zach and Vince?” Mrs. Fairmont asked me.
“Uh, busy at work.”
Mrs. Fairmont leaned over to Jessie. “Tami has two men interested in her. But it’s not a secret. They work together, isn’t that right?”
“They’re both at Sam Braddock’s firm. And they’re not that—”
“Zach and Tami are courting,” Mrs. Fairmont continued. “But Vince is a very nice young man, too. He’s from Charleston, but his family hasn’t been there for generations. What does his father do?”
“He’s a professor at the College of Charleston.”
“Which is a lot more respectable than what some of the oldmoney people in Charleston and Savannah do for a living.”
“I’ve never had a real boyfriend,” Jessie said. “Much less two at once.”
I didn’t want to fuel the conversation and kept quiet. Mrs. Fairmont changed the subject and started telling a story I’d heard at least three or four times. It was about a man she dated for nine months before she met and married her husband, Harry. The unsuccessful suitor owned a sailboat that sounded more like a yacht to me. He taught Mrs. Fairmont how to help him sail the boat. When Mrs. Fairmont described the outfits she wore on the boat, Jessie’s eyes got big.
“Weren’t you hot with all those clothes on?” she asked.
“Actually, the right combination of cotton fabrics can keep you cooler than wearing less. And it kept me from getting a sunburn.”
Jessie held out her brown arms. “I don’t have any problem getting a tan. It may be because my father was part Cherokee.”
“That explains the name Whitewater,” I replied.
“Yeah,” Jessie answered in a way that didn’t convince me it was her real name.
When we finished eating, Jessie didn’t have to be asked to clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Watching how hard she wanted to please Mrs. Fairmont after only a single day in the home took some of the edge off my frustration about her secrecy and lies.
“Would you like to take Flip out for a walk?” Mrs. Fairmont asked her when we finished in the kitchen.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked. “All the squares can be confusing.”
“I won’t go far,” Jessie said. “I never get lost in the woods. And once I’ve been someplace in the car, I can remember how to go there again.”
“I could go with you—,” I volunteered.
“No,” Mrs. Fairmont responded. “I think it will be good for Jessie and Flip to have that time together.”
“Okay.”
“His leash is in that drawer.” Mrs. Fairmont pointed.
As soon as the leash was in view, Flip raced toward the front door.
“He knows how to heel,” I said to Jessie. “And make sure his collar is on tight. You don’t want him slipping out of it.”
“Can I take a couple of treats?” Jessie asked.
“Yes,” Mrs. Fairmont said. “That’s a good idea.”
I could hear Jessie talking to Flip in the foyer then the front door opened and shut.
“Why did you send her out for a walk?” I asked Mrs. Fairmont.
“Jessie’s been hurt by people. Being with an animal can be therapy. She’ll enjoy one-on-one time with Flip.” Mrs. Fairmont paused. “Should I be worried that she won’t come back?”
“It’ll be okay. Julie left her alone, and she had plenty of chances to run away. And it seems she wants to please you.”
“We had a nice afternoon,” Mrs. Fairmont said, seeming to relax. “Of course, I didn’t believe that tale about her dying aunt after the first three sentences. I would have laughed if it hadn’t been a serious story.”
“Did Mrs. Bartlett believe her?”
Mrs. Fairmont nodded. “Christine knows a lot about eighteenth-century crystal, but she’s not the best judge of people. And the story caused Christine to buy Jessie an outfit. That was good.”
“But it’s wrong for Jessie to lie. She’s never told me the truth about her family or where she’s from or who knows what else. If I had that information, I could probably have her case moved from superior court to juvenile court.”
Mrs. Fairmont rubbed her temples with her fingers. “I think she lies because the truth is so painful.”
“Did she tell you the truth?”
“No, but I have the luxury of listening without having to find out the truth. Eventually, she’ll open up more to me, but it may be too late to help your case.” Mrs. Fairmont chuckled. “Wasn’t that part about her father being part Cherokee creative? I saw her stomach when she was picking up Flip to put him on the sofa, and it’s as white as the Wedgwood china in the cabinet in the dining room.”
“Her real name is more likely Wedgwood than Whitewater,” I grunted.
“Jessie is a little stray we’ve taken in for a few nights to feed and look after. We’ve gotten off to a good start. I just hope I don’t have a bad spell with my health while she’s here and scare her.”
F
LIP PATTERED ALONGSIDE
J
ESSIE WITH HIS HEAD HELD HIGH.
Jessie didn’t know what Tami meant by heel, but the little dog knew all the basic commands and could perform an amazing number of tricks. The first time Mrs. Fairmont asked him to turn a somersault, Jessie couldn’t believe it. Then, the dog balanced a red ball on his nose while sitting up on his hind legs. He followed that up with an unbelievable trip around the room, turning right or left as Mrs. Fairmont gave commands from her chair. The Chihuahua could recognize at least twenty objects and bring them to the elderly woman.
“How did you teach him to do all this?” Jessie asked in amazement.
“Patience and love. He performs because it’s fun for him and pleases me.”
Jessie noted landmarks and walked in a straight line even though some of the side streets looked interesting. Later, there would be time to explore the neighborhood that was so different from any environment she’d ever lived in. One of her goals was to return to the vacant lot where she’d left the metal box and retrieve the leather pouch. It was much closer to Mrs. Fairmont’s house than Julie’s apartment.
Mrs. Fairmont reminded Jessie of a character in a book she’d read. The elderly woman in the story lived in a quaint house at the end of a village lane and served tea and snacks to children who came to visit her. The heroine of the book was a girl like Jessie who came from an abusive family and needed someone to love her. While sitting on Mrs. Fairmont’s sofa and eating an apple pastry over a beautiful china plate, Jessie felt like she’d landed in the middle of the story.
The woman in the novel was an accomplished artist and taught the girl how to paint beautiful watercolor pictures of flowers and birds. The girl painted a picture of an injured bluebird she and the elderly woman were nursing back to health. The day they finished the painting, the bluebird flew away and the old woman died. A man who attended the old woman’s funeral saw the girl’s painting and offered to sell her work at his shop in a big city. The girl lived happily ever after.
Jessie was daydreaming about bluebirds and apple snacks when she reached East Broad Street. She turned around without noticing a black car with heavily tinted windows that passed her, slowed to a stop, and dipped into a side street. The car followed her down Hull Street, stopping several times to let her keep ahead. When Jessie reached Mrs. Fairmont’s house, Flip strained on the leash.
“Do you want to tell Mrs. Fairmont about our walk?” Jessie leaned over and picked up the little dog. “Nothing exciting happened, but I won’t tell if you decide to make something up.”
Jessie opened the front door and took off the leash. Flip dashed into the house. The dark car rolled past and continued on its way.
S
ITTING IN THE DEN WITH
M
RS.
F
AIRMONT,
I
SIGHED IN RELIEF
when the front door opened and I heard the patter of Flip’s feet. I met Jessie and Flip at the foot of the stairs. Mrs. Fairmont trailed behind me.
“Did you have a nice walk?” she asked.