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  “Can you say denial?” Trevor blurted out. “I think she’s looking for something a little more intimate than a dip in the river.”

  “Sometimes we can lie even to ourselves,” Alyson said.

  “What happens next?” Mac asked.

  Alyson turned the page. “‘August 16, 1866.’”

  I have done something so horrible I can hardly bear to put pen to paper, but I must confess my sin, if only in this journal. I can never speak of this to anyone. Not ever. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, truthfully, maybe I do know what I was thinking. The lies we tell ourselves are some of the greatest ever told. We convince ourselves our intentions are other than what they really are. We let ourselves believe the lie, but in the end, we must face the truth. I went for a swim yesterday. I invited Marcus along for protection from the strong currents. At least that’s the lie I let myself believe. At first it was so wonderful; we laughed and played like children. The coolness of the water against my skin filled me with energy I had not felt in days. I know what happened next is my fault. I let my desire rule me. Marcus is simple. He doesn’t always understand the consequences of his actions. Or maybe he does and this is but another lie I am telling myself. Either way, I let myself believe that a swim was only a swim when, in truth, I knew all along it would be so much more. I can never tell Barron. He would kill Marcus and turn the rest of his family out into the street. No, this secret is one I must take to my grave.

  “Okay,” Trevor summarized, “Marcus somehow finds out that Mrs. Lincoln has had her child and goes to the bluff to try to talk her into telling him where she stashed it. They struggle and she falls.”

  “We’ve seen that,” Mac agreed.

  “So the question is, how can we use this information to make sure Alyson is still with us on May 28th?” Trevor asked.

  “It comes back to whose unfinished business this is,” Alyson said. “What needs to happen for the cycle to end?”

  “It must be Marcus’s,” Mac guessed. “He was hanged for a crime he didn’t commit.”

  “How do we fix that?” Trevor asked.

  “We still haven’t figured out why Marcus was accused,” Alyson said. “If Mrs. Lincoln is dead and they were on the bluff alone, who accused Marcus?”

  “There had to have been someone else on the bluff,” Mac guessed.

  Alyson looked at her watch. “It’s getting late. I need to get to the bluff. I’m going up to change into something warmer. Get the gear and I’ll meet you in the Jeep.”

  ******

  The fog had started to roll in, creating an eerie feeling of isolation.

  “We can’t see you.” Mac spoke through the walkie-talkie. “The fog’s too thick. We need to get closer.”

  “No, I’m okay. Stay where you are and just listen.”

  The sound of the surf pounding on the rocks below the edge of the bluff was the only evidence that the sea was nearby. The fog was thick, smothering. Alyson couldn’t see anything beyond her own arm.

  “You’ve hidden it.”

  “I had to.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Please, you can trust me. No one will know.”

  “He’ll know.”

  “He won’t, I swear. I don’t know how you can do this.”

  “We’re talking about my life. Everything I hold dear; my husband, my children. I can’t risk it.”

  “What about me? My life?”

  “Do you know what my husband would do to you if he found out? I’m trying to protect you.”

  “I’m willing to take that risk.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  “Won’t he wonder where it is? Your husband.”

  “I’ll tell him I lost it. I have to go now.”

  “Please, just tell me where it is.” The man grabbed her arm.

  “It’s already gone.”

  “Gone? Gone where?”

  “I’ll never tell you; now let me go.”

  “Why won’t you tell me? I don’t understand. You don’t want it anyway.”

  But she did, Alyson realized. Her heart was torn to shreds over the fact that she had to give her child away. “Oh God.” Alyson groaned as Whitney Lincoln fell over the side and Alyson dropped to her knees.

  “Alyson!” Mac yelled through the walkie-talkie. “Are you okay? We’re coming; hang on.”

  Alyson could hear them running toward her, but she couldn’t speak. The pain was too intense; she couldn’t catch her breath. She felt Whitney Lincoln’s love for her husband and other four children. She felt her anguish at having to give up the fifth. She felt her concern for Marcus. She felt her guilt that all this was her fault, that lives had been ruined forever because of her. In her final seconds, Mrs. Lincoln felt the pain and suffering of everyone she held dear.

  “Are you okay?” Mac knelt beside Alyson. “What’s wrong?”

  She wrapped her arms around Mac and sobbed. She sobbed for Whitney Lincoln, for her abandoned baby, her motherless children, and her widowed husband. She sobbed for Marcus and his unfinished life. She sobbed for the death of dreams and an end to possibilities. And, finally, she sobbed for herself. It had been a while since she’d allowed herself to remember the agony of loss. Time healed all wounds, but the scars were with you forever.

  “Alyson, you’re scaring me.” Mac was sobbing herself now. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  Alyson pulled herself together. She sat back on her heels with her arms still around Mac’s neck. “I’m okay. I just need a minute. Let’s go back to the house and I’ll tell you everything.”

  When they arrived at the house Alyson went up to her room to wash her face and pull herself together while her concerned friends waited downstairs. She looked at her own face in the mirror and saw Whitney Lincoln. “I understand,” she promised the apparition.

  “Hey, everything okay now?” Mac asked as Alyson walked into the living room.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “What happened?” Trevor asked.

  “Tonight, when I was watching the same events I’ve witnessed over and over, there came a point where I could feel all Whitney Lincoln’s emotions. The intensity of her feelings. She was in such pain. It isn’t Marcus causing the endless loop. It’s her.”

  “Mrs. Lincoln? But why?” Mac asked.

  “She wants forgiveness. She feels responsible for everything. She let her desires rule her behavior for one minute, and because of that she destroyed so many lives. Her abandoned baby, whom she loved so much; her motherless children, whose happiness meant more to her than life itself; and her widowed husband, who she loved with all her heart. And of course there’s Marcus; his death was needless and unjust.”

  “Whose forgiveness does she want?” Mac asked.

  “Her own. She needs to forgive herself so she can move on. She’s torturing herself, living the same day over and over, all the while praying for redemption from her guilt.”

  “So how do we help her to find forgiveness?” Trevor asked. “How do we end the cycle?”

  Alyson hesitated. “Through my understanding of her guilt, we ended the cycle. I don’t feel her presence anymore.”

  “How can you be sure?” Mac asked.

  “I think we should proceed with our plans to visit with Eric Thompson tomorrow just in case, but yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

  “How will we know? For certain?” Mac asked.

  “We’ll go to the bluff tomorrow to see if they show up. If they don’t I think we’ll have our proof.”

  Alyson knew they wouldn’t show up tomorrow; she understood what she needed to do so Whitney wouldn’t appear. But it wasn’t over. She still needed to get through the final scene of the script that had been repeating itself for so many years. She needed to be there on the 27th, so she needed her friends to believe she was safe. It was the only way she could finish what she needed to do.

  Chapter 13

  Friday, May 26

  Toward the e
nd of the school day, Alyson went in search of Steve Hanson, Jessica’s ex. She really wanted to finish helping Jessica before tomorrow night. Just in case.

  Alyson found him rummaging through his locker. She continued to be amazed at how much junk people could cram into such a small space. “Steve?”

  “Yeah?” He continued to sort through the mess.

  “My name is Alyson. I’m a friend of Jessica’s.”

  Steve stepped away from his locker to look at the petite girl standing next to him.

  “If you’re a friend of Jessica’s how come I’ve never met you before? Jessica and I have been dating for over a year.”

  “I’m sort of a new friend. I guess you heard what happened to her.”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “I was wondering if I could talk to you about Tommy’s party. Jessica said she went with you, but then you had a disagreement and left.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. I don’t see how it’s any of your business, though.”

  “I’m sort of helping her look into the whole thing, trying to figure out exactly what happened.”

  “She doesn’t remember?”

  “Not much. I thought maybe you saw something that might help me.”

  Steve hesitated. He looked around the hall, crowded with students hurrying to get to their next class. “Let’s go somewhere. Away from here.”

  “How about the deli down the street? I seem to have skipped lunch.”

  “Okay. I’ll get my stuff and meet you there.”

  “Can I order you a sandwich?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Roast beef. I have to get a few things together, but I should be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  Alyson sent Mac a text message, telling her where she was going in case Steve turned out to be a serial killer in a nice-guy costume. When she arrived at the deli she ordered a Diet Coke and a turkey sandwich for herself and a roast beef sandwich and an extralarge Coke for Steve. She took the food to one of the red-and-white-checkered tables in the back of the room, and Steve joined her a few minutes later.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” Alyson began. “I hope you’re not missing anything important.”

  “Trig. It’ll keep.”

  “As I mentioned before, I’ve been helping Jessica try to figure out what happened the night of the party.”

  “She really doesn’t remember?” he asked again.

  “No. After you left Tommy gave her a drink, a rum and Diet Coke. She took a few sips and started feeling dizzy. She went upstairs to use the bathroom. The next thing she remembers is waking up in Tommy’s bed.”

  “Oh God.” Steve rested his forehead and elbows against the cold Formica tabletop, wrapping his arms around himself as if to hide.

  “I know this must be really hard on you. I found out Derek Gordon was the one who spiked her drink, but he said he wasn’t the one who raped her. I’m trying to help Jessica find out who the father of her baby is.”

  “I am.” Steve looked up and stared at Alyson with agony in his eyes. “I am.”

  Wow. Despite what Derek’s friend had said, she hadn’t seen that coming.

  “I didn’t rape her, though. After the fight I went out in the backyard to cool off. There were some guys out there smoking pot and doing shots. I decided to join them for one round, but one thing led to another and I got stinking drunk. I went back inside to see if I could get some coffee when Danny Tyler told me Jessica was upstairs and she was asking for me. He handed me a shot and told me it was for luck.”

  Steve leaned back against the red vinyl booth and closed his eyes. “I was really out of it. I went into Tommy’s room and Jessica was in his bed, waiting, I believed, to willingly have sex with me. She may not remember anything, but she wasn’t passed out, at least not completely. She looked at me and said my name. In my drunken and admittedly aroused state, I let myself believe it was an invitation. We made love, although rather sloppily given both our states. She was conscious, though; she even responded. Afterward I fell asleep or, more appropriately, passed out. I woke up several hours later and saw Jessica lying next to me. Little pieces of what had happened started to come back to me. At some point I realized Jessica might not have been as much of a willing participant as I’d thought.”

  “You just left her there?”

  “Yeah, I took the coward’s way out. I started to remember her responses and realized she was too drunk to have been a consensual partner.”

  “So you left her, naked, in another guy’s bed?”

  “I knew she’d be mad. I wanted to give her space to cool down. I never, ever imagined she wouldn’t remember any of it. I just figured she’d remember what happened, think I took advantage of her, and be royally pissed off.”

  “You did take advantage of her.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. I’ve been sorry every day since then.”

  “Okay, maybe the shot you were given was drugged also. Maybe you really did let yourself believe during the act that it was consensual. But what about after? It’s been over a month. Why didn’t you tell her what happened?”

  “Up until this moment I thought she knew what happened. I didn’t know she didn’t remember anything. After that night she gave me the cold shoulder. I figured she was just mad about what happened and I decided to give her space. When I found out she was pregnant I tried hundreds of times to get hold of her, but she’s locked up in her house with Mama Bear to protect her. I’ve called and left messages, I’ve texted her, I’ve gone to her house only to be sent away.”

  “I’ll talk to her.” Alyson looked at her watch; she still had an hour until she had to meet Mac and Trevor. “Wait here. I’ll call you to let you know if I can get her to agree to see you. Give me your cell number.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate this.” Steve jotted down his number.

  “No problem. And Steve—Jessica’s really fragile right now. I’d use this time to think of what you’re going to say to her.”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  Alyson entered Steve’s number into her phone, then texted Mac to let her know she might be late but to wait for her. She called Jessica just to be sure she was home, then once again headed to her house.

  Jessica answered the door dressed in a yellow, long-sleeved sweater and faded jeans. “Hey, Alyson. You said you had news?”

  “Yeah. You’d better sit down.”

  “That bad, huh?” Jessica walked through the house to her room and sat down on the foot of her bed.

  “I’m not sure if you’ll be horrified by what I have to tell you or relieved.” Alyson sat down next to her.

  “Oh, God. What is it?”

  “I found out who drugged you. It was Derek Gordon.”

  “Why would Derek Gordon drug me? Oh, God, he isn’t the father of my baby, is he?”

  “No, he isn’t the father. It was a game; he and his buddies randomly spiked a rum and Diet Coke, then placed bets on who would drink it.”

  Jessica paled. “That’s sick.”

  “Tell me about it. After this is over, with your permission, I’d like to turn what I know over to the police. Drugging unsuspecting people at a party is serious stuff.”

  “How do you know he’s not the father? How do you know he didn’t rape me after he drugged me?” Jessica began to sob.

  “Because I know who the father is. He told me.”

  Jessica looked up, tears streaming down her face. “Who?”

  “It was Steve.”

  Alyson watched a look of shock cross Jessica’s face. “My Steve?”

  “Yes. He didn’t leave the party after your fight. He went outside and got stoned with some of his friends. When he went up to Tommy’s room you were already there, on the bed. He was led to believe you’d asked for him, that your participation was consensual.”

  Jessica closed her eyes. I watched as a look of awareness crossed her face. “I remember. I was really out of it, so I’m not sure you could call my participation consensual, but I didn’t fight him.
I may even have responded on some level. But why did he leave me there?”

  “I think he should explain that to you. He wants to talk to you. He said he’s tried to get hold of you. He didn’t realize you didn’t remember what happened. He thought you were avoiding him because you were mad.”

  “Yeah, he’s left like a hundred messages.” Jessica got up and went over to the dresser and picked up a picture of her and Steve during happier times. “I really loved him, you know. I pictured us growing old together and having babies, just not in quite this way.”

  “I’m pretty sure he cares about you too. After I told him what happened…well, let’s just say he’s pretty broken up about it. He’s waiting for my call. I told him I’d ask you if you’d talk to him.”

  Jessica ran her fingers over the picture. “Yeah, I guess we should talk.”

  “I think that’s best.”

  Jessica turned to Alyson. “Thanks for doing all this, for figuring this out for me. If you hadn’t pushed I might never have known. My parents want me to have an abortion, but if this baby is Steve’s and mine, I don’t see how I can. Maybe adoption? I guess I should talk to Steve.”

  “You don’t have to figure everything out today. I think this is one of those big decisions. You know, the life-altering type. You should talk to Steve, talk to your parents, but in the end you should make your own choice. Whatever decision you make is one you’ll have to live with for the rest of your life. Take the time to make the one you can live with.”

  “Thanks. That’s good advice.”

  Mac and Trevor were waiting for Alyson near the parking lot at school. Trevor had heard about the trip they’d planned and decided to skip baseball practice to go with them.

  “You talked to Steve?” Mac asked.

  “Yeah. I saw him on my way to the library and decided to ask him about the party. He’s the father of Jessica’s baby.”

  “He raped her?” Trevor demanded.

 

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