wasn’t, and I did have my tricks. I thought if I didn’t fight so hard, if I accepted what came to me, then I could control the voices and live without the pills.
I’d been on medication for so many years, and the idea that the rest of my days depended on these tiny red pills made my chest ache. If I could find another way, I’d take it. I knew it would be hard, but that didn’t matter. I wasn’t ready to give up.
I rolled down the window and spit the pill out into the dirt. I stared at it, wet and bleeding, and thought about dumping the rest out, too. I didn’t. Not yet. It was too soon to make that kind of decision. If I was wrong, if I couldn’t control my mind—
I stopped myself. I had to stay positive.
I capped the pill bottle and dropped it on the passenger seat, then started the truck and headed home. As I drove, the idea I wouldn’t be able to do it came back, and I started to wonder if I was making a mistake.
I just needed time to think, to sort everything out.
And I wanted to talk to Jessica before I made a decision.
CHAPTER 15
When I got home, I headed straight for the grove. As I got closer, I heard Jessica crying. I could see her through the trees, sitting on the edge of the field, her legs tucked into her chest, rocking from side to side. I felt like I was intruding and considered turning back, but I didn’t.
When she heard me, she straightened and slid a hand across her cheek. “Hi,” she said.
I came up slow. “You OK?”
She nodded, her face hidden behind her hair.
“Megan was sick. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
I agreed, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back to the café, at least not anytime soon. I figured it might be good to let things settle down a bit. Then again, maybe not going back would look strange.
There was a lot to think about.
I sat down next to Jessica. When I did, her tears started again. I could see why.
Her body, lying in the corn, looked swollen and blue. Her eyes, milk white and rimmed purple, had come open and were staring vacantly toward the sky. Most of the vomit had washed away with the rain, but some had dried in the sun and stood out in brown streaks along her face and neck.
I couldn’t look away.
“Don’t, please,” Jessica said. “I can’t stand it.”
“It’s OK.”
“OK?” She turned toward me and I saw the lines her tears had made on her cheeks. “It’s not OK . It’s not OK at all.” She motioned toward her body. “How’d you like to look like this?”
She said something else, but the tears broke through and I wasn’t sure if I’d heard her right.
I hoped I hadn’t heard her right.
“There’s no reason to be embarrassed,” I said.
She looked up, her eyes wet and soft. “So, will you?”
“Will I what?”
“Will you help me get cleaned up?” She ran two fingers under her eyes then wiped them on her dress. “I know it’s dumb, but I don’t want you seeing me like this.”
“Cleaned up?”
I had heard her right.
“At least wash that stuff off my face.” She looked back again, and her breath hitched in her chest. “Oh, God.”
I wasn’t sure what to say.
I never should have moved her body. If they found out, I could tell them that when I saw her I wasn’t sure she was dead and I’d moved her to check. It was a good enough excuse.
But if I cleaned her, that would be different.
“It’ll look bad,” I said. “They’ll know I’ve been out here.”
“You don’t think they’ll know anyway?” She held up her right hand and wiggled her finger. “The ring?”
She was right.
“I just don’t think—”
“Please, Dexter.” Her voice was soft. “Do this for me.”
I glanced down at the body and felt myself start to give in. I think Jessica saw it, too, because when I looked back at her, she was smiling.
I found an old three-gallon ice cream bucket in the garage and filled it with soap and water at the kitchen sink. There were sponges in
I’d been on medication for so many years, and the idea that the rest of my days depended on these tiny red pills made my chest ache. If I could find another way, I’d take it. I knew it would be hard, but that didn’t matter. I wasn’t ready to give up.
I rolled down the window and spit the pill out into the dirt. I stared at it, wet and bleeding, and thought about dumping the rest out, too. I didn’t. Not yet. It was too soon to make that kind of decision. If I was wrong, if I couldn’t control my mind—
I stopped myself. I had to stay positive.
I capped the pill bottle and dropped it on the passenger seat, then started the truck and headed home. As I drove, the idea I wouldn’t be able to do it came back, and I started to wonder if I was making a mistake.
I just needed time to think, to sort everything out.
And I wanted to talk to Jessica before I made a decision.
CHAPTER 15
When I got home, I headed straight for the grove. As I got closer, I heard Jessica crying. I could see her through the trees, sitting on the edge of the field, her legs tucked into her chest, rocking from side to side. I felt like I was intruding and considered turning back, but I didn’t.
When she heard me, she straightened and slid a hand across her cheek. “Hi,” she said.
I came up slow. “You OK?”
She nodded, her face hidden behind her hair.
“Megan was sick. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
I agreed, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back to the café, at least not anytime soon. I figured it might be good to let things settle down a bit. Then again, maybe not going back would look strange.
There was a lot to think about.
I sat down next to Jessica. When I did, her tears started again. I could see why.
Her body, lying in the corn, looked swollen and blue. Her eyes, milk white and rimmed purple, had come open and were staring vacantly toward the sky. Most of the vomit had washed away with the rain, but some had dried in the sun and stood out in brown streaks along her face and neck.
I couldn’t look away.
“Don’t, please,” Jessica said. “I can’t stand it.”
“It’s OK.”
“OK?” She turned toward me and I saw the lines her tears had made on her cheeks. “It’s not OK . It’s not OK at all.” She motioned toward her body. “How’d you like to look like this?”
She said something else, but the tears broke through and I wasn’t sure if I’d heard her right.
I hoped I hadn’t heard her right.
“There’s no reason to be embarrassed,” I said.
She looked up, her eyes wet and soft. “So, will you?”
“Will I what?”
“Will you help me get cleaned up?” She ran two fingers under her eyes then wiped them on her dress. “I know it’s dumb, but I don’t want you seeing me like this.”
“Cleaned up?”
I had heard her right.
“At least wash that stuff off my face.” She looked back again, and her breath hitched in her chest. “Oh, God.”
I wasn’t sure what to say.
I never should have moved her body. If they found out, I could tell them that when I saw her I wasn’t sure she was dead and I’d moved her to check. It was a good enough excuse.
But if I cleaned her, that would be different.
“It’ll look bad,” I said. “They’ll know I’ve been out here.”
“You don’t think they’ll know anyway?” She held up her right hand and wiggled her finger. “The ring?”
She was right.
“I just don’t think—”
“Please, Dexter.” Her voice was soft. “Do this for me.”
I glanced down at the body and felt myself start to give in. I think Jessica saw it, too, because when I looked back at her, she was smiling.
I found an old three-gallon ice cream bucket in the garage and filled it with soap and water at the kitchen sink. There were sponges in
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