Maruja's Desire

Part Four Jessie couldn’t get the sexy judge off her mind. She barely remembered the walk back to the motel that afternoon. In fact, she could barely remember anything else she’d done either. She swapped messages with her sister as had become their evening custom and then replied to a message asking if she was so-and-so’s daughter… her mother was dying… they hadn’t spoken in years… and a simple yes or no as to whether or not they were related would be greatly appreciated. She went to bed that night thinking of Judge Hollins and went to work the next day, hoping to see her again, even if it would serve no purpose whatsoever other than to delight her sense of sight. Sadly, the lovely judge wasn’t in her chambers during any of the time she was in it cleaning. Jessie found herself depressed and feeling lonely later on that night. She tried to cheer herself up with a bubble bath, but the scented bubbles simply couldn’t lather away her troubles. As pointless as it may be, she found herself wishing the past could’ve worked out. If only she hadn’t lost Calvin. If only Maruja hadn’t been crazy. Monday morning, after a weekend that seemed to last longer than a week, she was back to work and hoping once again for a chance meeting with the hottie. If she were lucky enough to have that pleasure, it wouldn’t be until the end of her shift because she did her chambers last. So she had that hope to cling to and that to look forward to at the end of the day. During her 30-minute break at 2:00, she casually mentioned meeting the Honorable Judge to the two Black ladies and one Hispanic woman who were also on break. It seemed she was well known. Jessie was amazed at just what she’d learned about the Honorable Judge. She’d taught at a high school, had a bachelor’s degree in education and law, and was elected a drug court judge. Along the way, she had received numerous awards and was featured in many magazines, most of which were aimed at the Black population. Her pulse sped up when it finally came time to clean the judge’s chambers, and she silently hoped to herself that she would be behind the door she was about to knock on. “Come in.” Yes! “Good afternoon, Miss Jessie. How are you today?” the lovely judge asked her. “Fine, and you?” “Just fine, just fine.” Jessie felt a wave of awkward shyness come over her that she wasn’t used to feeling. Feeling self-conscious, she went to work dusting the shelves at the side of the judge’s desk, slowly moving closer and closer to her desk. They worked quietly—her cleaning, the judge reading papers. She felt the judge’s eyes boring into her back. Then the judge asked her what brought her to Detroit, besides a need for change. “Just getting away from the ex,” Jessie told her. “Uh-oh, one of those violent ones?” “No, but she was very possessive and started really getting obsessed with me in ways that weren’t very flattering.” There. I admitted I’ve been with a woman. “She know you’re in Detroit?” “No,” Jessie said, turning to face the beautiful Black judge. “At least I sure hope not anyway. I did everything I could think of so I wouldn’t leave a trail. We didn’t have any joint accounts or anything like that. The earthquake compensation money went to an account she couldn’t access.” “Wait, the earthquake compensation money?” she asked, taking off her diamond-studded designer glasses. “Now this is getting really interesting, unless you’d like to tell me to mind my own business, of course.” “Oh, no, not at all,” Jessie said with a smile. She sat in a chair in front of the desk and filled her in on the earthquake, losing Cal, waking up in the hospital, and how Maruja had taken her in since others were either too far or simply unable to help her out at the time. The judge had been leaning her elbows on the desk and eyeing her intently as she told her story. When she was done, she sat back in her high-backed leather chair and said, “Wow. Just wow, Miss Jessie.” “Yeah, that’s exactly what I said. Funny, ain’t it?” ________________________________________ The days went on, and Jessie made enough to live on but not enough to save. She was hoping to eventually work full-time. She was disappointed on days she didn’t see Nia, and delighted on days she did see her. Although it was in a crappy section of downtown, she managed to rent an affordable tiny studio apartment about five blocks from the courthouse. Even better was that she wasn’t bound to any lease and could pay by the week or by the month. She chose the monthly plan because it was slightly cheaper. She slept on a large piece of foam and had no furniture, but it was a fraction of what the hotel cost. The kitchen had a built-in bench and table, but a couch and a twin bed were in order. She would only buy what she felt she couldn’t live without so that what money she did have wouldn’t run out too fast. Even a small portable washer she hooked up to the sink was a worthy investment. Skipping laundromats and air-drying her clothes would save a fortune. One day, Jessie happened to be in the chambers when the lovely judge accidentally deleted some files. Jessie was able to retrieve them for her, much to the judge’s relief. “Girl, you are a real lifesaver today. Thank you very much!” “You’re quite welcome,” Jessie said, feeling herself blush. Jessie didn’t see Nia on most days, but when she did, she happily answered whatever computer questions she could, and the two often engaged in small talk. Nia was a bit concerned when she learned where Jessie was living. “It isn’t the greatest place, but I never go out at night. I do what I need to do in the daytime, be it grocery shopping, setting up doctors to deal with my thyroid issues, or whatever. Then I go to work and straight home afterward. These hours are perfect because I can sleep in if I want to and be home before dark, even when winter comes.” “I see,” said the judge with a nod. “Yeah, but even though having the mornings open is nice, I really should work full-time. That way, I can put money in savings. What I’m earning now simply pays for the essentials. Unless I have a damn good reason to stay here, I want to eventually get to a warmer climate.” A thoughtful look crossed the judge’s face, and Jessie thought she looked a bit like Donna Summer. The phone then rang, and Jessie finished cleaning and left for a long, lonely weekend in her cramped little studio. Although she was alone, the old, shabby place was never free of sounds. Most of it came from the street three floors below rather than from within the building. There were no apartments above her or toward the right. The studio next door to the left was empty, and whoever was below her was quiet. All she really heard was the door across the hall opening and closing when the occupants came and went. She didn’t know who they were, and she didn’t want to know either. With a sigh of resolution, Jessie decided on a weekend of reading, writing, movies, and junk food. She set her blog to private so she could still copy from Word to it and made sure her Facebook account and other accounts were all set to private as well so no outsiders could see any activity occurring within them. If Maruja or anyone she knew was watching, they’d notice the privacy changes, but she didn’t care about things like that. After a year or so of being sure that Maruja wasn’t really going to stalk her or anything like that, she may change her privacy settings back to public. When a month passed with no contact from Maruja, Jessie began to suspect the doctor had cut her losses and moved on. “After all,” she said to herself one hot summer afternoon as she hung her clothes to dry over her shower rod, “it’s not like she was violent or anything.” Glad to know Maruja wasn’t dangerous after all, Jessie continued on with life in Detroit. She and Nia got to know each other a little more each time they met. Nia seemed amazed at all the languages she’d studied, and Jessie was amazed at all she’d done to help rehabilitate rather than just punish drug-addicted ladies of the night. “So is the fabulous and glamorous Judge Hollins seeing anyone?” Jessie dared ask one day. The judge chuckled and said, “No, not quite. My ex decided she needed to trade me in for a guy while she was still in her childbearing years.” “Oh,” said Jessie, secretly thrilled to learn she was gay or at least bi. “Guess she never heard of artificial insemination or adoption.” The judge laughed again and said, “Actually, she heard that I didn’t want kids. I love kids, don’t get me wrong, but I have other priorities in life and they don’t leave me with a whole lot of free time.” “I’m the same way. Children are wonderful when they belong to someone else.” Jessie left work that day with a bounce in her step. She hastily climbed the shadowy and slightly creepy stairwell to the safety of her studio—or that felt a lot safer than the streets or stairwell anyway—and slipped inside. She tossed her keys on the kitchen counter and froze, staring at the laptop that sat on the table. Did I really close the thing before I left this morning? Jessie couldn’t help but feel watched as she went about her daily routine. She tried to tell herself she was being silly and almost had herself convinced until she checked her email one morning before leaving for work. Along with the usual message from her sister, there was one from an unrecognizable address. She clicked on it and read: Hello Jessie, it’s Maruja. I think it’s time we talk. Please call the number I’ve given you. Jessie's heartbeat lurched forward with a jolt. “Relax,” she told herself, willing her pulse and breathing to slow down. “It’s just a lousy email. She’s not here. It’s just an email. Anyone can get an email address if they try hard enough.” For the first time since meeting Nia, she was glad she didn’t see her that day because she didn’t want to trouble her with her problems and didn’t know if she could do a good job of hiding her anxiety. She didn’t see her the next day either. By then, there had been another email and a message sent on Facebook from what appeared to be a newly created account in Maruja's name, only there was no info or photos of any kind. Things didn’t start turning scary until she answered a call with a blocked number. “Hello?” “You didn’t think you could run from me forever, did you?” “Oh, Maruja, you little fucker!” Jessie shouted, anger now replacing her fear. “How the fuck did you get this number?” “Ah, I miss that fire in you. I told you. I have my resources when I need them.” “Yeah, well, take your resources and shove them up your ass because there’s nothing to say to each other. We’re done!” Jessie's hands shook uncontrollably as she terminated the call and set the phone down on the counter. She stood there staring at it and feared it would ring again. Maruja began to hound her with calls and messages, some begging for forgiveness and another chance to make things right, while others sounded angry and determined. It was when the deranged doc mentioned Detroit being no place for her that she really felt alarmed. “How the hell could she have found me?” Jessie wondered aloud. Then she thought back to how she found her laptop shut and not remembering closing it, which is something she rarely did anyway unless she was moving it somewhere. Had someone actually broken into the place? One of her accounts online must’ve been hacked, and that was probably how Maruja had learned of her location. Jessie went to bed that night trying not to worry about whether or not she knew not just what city she was in, but her exact address as well. ________________________________________ “Alright, what’s going on, sweet pea?” the judge asked her one day at work. Jessie hesitated and then said, “I guess I can’t hide it very well anymore, can I?” “I’m in tune with you. You doing anything after work?” Jessie shook her head. “I’ll be leaving the same time you do today. How about we stop at this nice café I know and chat for a while? We’ll have an early dinner or something like that while we’re at it.” Jessie gazed at the judge appreciatively and nodded. “I’d like that.” A few hours later, they were seated at a café in a nicer area of the city. The lighting was soft and the atmosphere was relaxing. Jessie ordered a chicken salad and Nia a seafood salad. They also shared an order of mozzarella sticks and onion rings. “So tell me,” Nia said, taking a bite of her salad, “what’s got you going these days?” “She found me,” Jessie told her matter-of-factly. Nia’s eyebrows shot up. “Your ex?” Jessie nodded. “I don’t know that she knows my exact address, but she knows I’m in Detroit.” Jessie went on to tell her about the calls and messages. Nia looked both thoughtful and worried. “Were any of the messages threatening?” “In some ways. She didn’t threaten to hunt me down and kill me or anything direct and blunt like that, but she’s made reference to ‘bringing me back home with her where I belong’ and stuff like that, which is scary enough. She and God know how many others working for her have been everywhere. In voice messages, in emails, on Facebook.” “You still have the messages?” Jessie nodded. “You respond to any?” Jessie shook her head, chewing on a mozzarella stick. Once she swallowed her food, she said, “Just the call I answered. I don’t understand how the hell she could’ve figured out where I am. We never had any joint accounts, we weren’t legally married, and I never mentioned it online in a place she or anyone connected to her could find.” “You’re not connected to anyone on Facebook that she knows?” “No.” “Anyone friend you since you left that you don’t know?” “No, but if they had, I wouldn’t have added them.” “Smart. What about emails? Anything funny come in there?” Jessie thought about it, then said, “No, not that I can think of. Maruja was never very computer savvy. Never was into things like social sites. Trust me, she didn’t find me on her own. She had to have help.” “You said she was a specialist, right?” Jessie nodded. “An endocrinologist, much like the one I need to get hooked up with here so I can get back on my thyroid medication.” “So she would certainly have the money to hire a private detective.” “Easily.” “Either that or… well… have you ever mentioned your location in an email to anyone like your sister?” “I may have. Why? Do you think she might’ve had someone hack me?” “Anything’s possible.” Jessie took a sip of her Diet Coke, then said, “It’s hard to believe she would know any hackers.” “Mind if I see the messages when I bring you to your place, and hear the voice messages, too?” “No, not at all.” They finished their food while they made small talk, and Jessie was amazed at how beautiful Nia was. She was especially breathtaking without her black robe. “Your nails are gorgeous,” Jessie said, noting her shiny white and gold gel nail design. “Why, thank you, ma’am.” “I’ve been neglecting mine,” Jessie said, placing her hands on the table by Nia’s. She blushed when Nia took hold of her hands and told her they weren’t bad at all. Well, now she knows I like her, Jessie thought to herself, and is at least okay with that. Nia insisted on paying the bill, and Jessie left the tip. “Thanks for the treat,” she said, “it was nice.” “You’re very welcome.” When they pulled up to her apartment building shortly afterward, Jessie was worried that Nia might be afraid to park her car there. She didn’t blame her. The car wasn’t anything overly luxurious, but it was nice and it stood out, especially since most people there couldn’t even afford cars. “I hope no one messes with your car.” “It’ll be okay,” Nia parked the car, and Jessie admired her profile as she did so. Then she blushed when Nia caught her gazing at her. “Hope you don’t mind climbing stairs,” Jessie told her, noting the smile of amusement on the judge’s face. “I’m up on the third floor.” “Even at the ripe old age of fifty-one, I think I can make it.” “Fifty-one?” Jessie asked with genuine surprise. Nia nodded. “Oh, wow, I thought you were closer to my age.” Nia laughed and playfully yanked on Jessie’s thick waist-length braid. Up in the apartment, Nia said, “Cute little place.” “I think it’s an old, ugly, run-down dump,” Jessie said. “Ok,” Nia agreed with a nod, “so it’s a little bit of that, too.” Jessie burst out laughing and offered Nia something to drink. “No thanks,” she said, also laughing. Jessie pulled her phone from her purse and pulled up her voice messages. Then she put the phone on speaker and said, “Okay, here are the voice messages.” Nia listened intently to the half a dozen or so messages from Maruja, and then one from Maruja’s sister pleading for her to call Maruja to ease her mind and try to work things out. “A couple of those messages could definitely be considered threatening, or at least bordering on it. Now let me see what’s online.” ________________________________________ Jessie first showed her the Facebook messages. As the judge began to read, she said, “As you can see, it’s a newly created account in her name, but the account is pretty much empty—only the bare minimum.” “Yeah, I see. Not even a profile picture. Do you think this is really her?” “Judging by the wording and all that, yeah, I think it is. It could be her sister, but I would be willing to bet it’s Maruja’s account.” “Have you reported these messages to Facebook or anyone else?” “No. You and my sister are the only ones who know about them. Oh, and just one friend, too, who lives back in California. She’s a long-time friend of mine, and she’s not a mutual friend of any kind.” “Do you save all your messages?” “Well, they get saved in the trash folder, which I rarely empty.” “Can I see those?” “Sure.” Jessie pulled up her email account. “May I sit down?” Nia asked. “Sure can.” Nia studied the emails for a few minutes, then said, “This one looks a little suspicious. Did you respond to this?” Jessie peered over the judge’s shoulder, inhaling the lovely scent of jasmine as she did so. It was the one asking if she was the dying woman’s daughter. “I did, actually, but only to tell them I wasn’t the person they were looking for.” Nia sighed with disappointment. “It might’ve been connected to your Mar-hoo-ha—or however you say the damn name.” Jessie would have laughed under happier circumstances. “Oh, shit! My IP number. You think that’s what they were after?” Nia nodded. “Could be. It would be embedded in the header of your reply, but luckily, those aren’t usually very accurate.” “So what do we do now?” “Well, do you want my help?” Nia asked, looking up at Jessie, who was standing nearby. Jessie nodded. “Any tips and pointers would be appreciated.” “Save everything you get and never reply to anything you receive on any device. If she calls and you happen to answer, hang up immediately and let her go straight to voicemail if she calls back.” “Okay.” “Meanwhile, I’ll show everything you’ve got so far to a friend of mine. He’ll know what to do.” Nia rose from her chair; she was about five inches taller than Jessie. “Most importantly, never ever answer the door unless you’re expecting someone.” “Okay.” “Be sure to peek through the peephole first to see who it is.” Nia pulled a small notepad from her purse and began writing. “Here’s my personal number. Please keep it confidential and be sure to call both the police and me if she ever shows up at your door. You used your real name on the rental lease, right?” “Yeah, I did.” “Are the utilities in your name?” “No, only the Internet. The utilities are included in the rent.” “Who else might have your full name here in Detroit besides the courts?” “Just the hotel I stayed at and the temp agency that sent me to you.” Nia’s worrisome gaze softened for a moment, and she smiled. “I’m glad they sent you, Miss Jessie.” Jessie smiled in return. “Yeah, me too.” Nia hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “Call if you need anything, and be careful. Be aware of your surroundings and watch for anything suspicious.” “I will,” Jessie said, feeling the heat radiate to her cheeks. The lovely judge then grinned a pearly-white smile and was gone after telling her to lock the door behind her. The contact from Maruja stopped, and once again, Jessie’s sense of security began to return. That was until she entered her building at the end of the day. The days were now getting shorter and chillier as she made her way up the stairs, looking forward to dinner and getting off her sore feet. Her feet never seemed to get used to being on them all day, no matter how much time went by. She thanked God it was Friday, too. She climbed the old, rickety steps in the cool, damp lobby and froze when she spotted a figure at the door across from hers. It appeared to be an old lady with thick-rimmed glasses. Jessie thought she looked a bit overdressed for the weather. It wasn’t that cold yet. Yet the woman wore a knit hat and a long, bulky coat. The woman never turned to face her to say hello or even glance at her. She was intent on fiddling with the keys on her keyring instead. Jessie pulled her own keys out and was just pushing her door open when she heard a rush of movement behind her. The instant she spun around to face the door, just a few feet into the apartment, she was knocked onto her ass. The woman then closed and locked the door behind them and yanked off her hat with one hand and her glasses with the other, tossing them both aside. Maruja! “G-get… how the fuck did you find me?” Jessie stammered. “I told you I would come find you and bring you back home. Don’t look so surprised.” Still on the ground, Jessie kicked Maruja in the shin. The crazy doctor then threw herself on top of Jessie and restrained her until she couldn’t move an inch. Jessie was amazed by her strength. No wonder she had laughed and told her she felt harmless. Jessie stared up into the doctor’s crazed eyes. She never appeared uglier than she did at that moment, and Jessie was almost ashamed and embarrassed to know she’d slept with such disgust. “You—you can’t do this!” Jessie sputtered. “The police will—” “The police don’t give a shit about you. You’re a whitey in a black world here. Smart move, Jessie.” “There are even fewer Venezuelans,” Jessie couldn’t help but hit back. “You still need to shut up. You are hurting my ears.” “I don’t give a shit about your precious ears!” With her body weight holding her to the ground and her wrists secure in one of Maruja's amazingly strong hands, she used her other hand to cover her mouth. Jessie tried to bite her but couldn’t get her mouth open wide enough to clamp her teeth on Maruja’s hand. Maruja then pulled a syringe out of her coat pocket and held it threateningly by Jessie’s face. “It’s your choice, Jessie. This won’t knock you out completely, but it’ll certainly help to shut you up a bit and slow you down. Can you calm yourself on your own, or should I assist you with that?” Jessie shook her head as rigorously as Maruja’s hand would allow her to. She now realized the only way out of this situation was to appear cooperative. Slowly, Maruja lifted her hand from Jessie’s face. Jessie took a moment to catch her breath, then said, “Maruja, I left because I just couldn’t seem to please you. You weren’t happy. Nothing I did was right.” Jessie struggled to hold eye contact with the doctor but could see the skepticism in her dark eyes. Then her eyes softened as did her tone. You’d never know she was so furious a moment ago. “Jessie, you made a promise to me. To remain with me for the rest of your life. I never said I was perfect. I know I need to work on nagging you less often, but you don’t understand.” She gently ran a hand alongside Jessie’s face. Jessie tried not to cringe. “You’re my every desire in life. My every need, want, and sense of satisfaction. I have never desired anyone else as much. Oh, how I love you so, my sweet Jessie.” “Maruja,” Jessie said gently as she removed her hand from the pathetic-sounding doctor, “you don’t desire me. You obsess over me. You don’t love me. You want to devour, control, and smother me. There’s a difference.” The fire returned to the doctor’s eyes. Damnit! She should’ve known better than to contradict her at a time like this. “How dare you tell me how I feel,” she hissed menacingly. “Oh, but it’s okay!” Jessie insisted. “I still have feelings for you, too. How could I not after all you did for me?” Maruja studied her, unsure of what to think. “Can I please get up now? If we’re going to work this out, it’s not going to be on the floor, okay? We’ll go for a walk, we’ll talk, we’ll get a bite to eat, we’ll—” “Where’s your cell phone?” Maruja suddenly asked. Jessie turned her head toward her handbag, which she’d dropped as she hit the floor. “Over there. Why?” Instead of answering, Maruja fished in the handbag until she pulled out Jessie’s cell phone. She then set it on the counter and said, “Okay, let’s go. I’m warning you, though: if you shout to anyone, I still have the drugs ready to subdue you.” “I don’t need subduing. I need food. Really, Maruja, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day.” “Then let’s go get something somewhere.” Jessie went to reach for her handbag, but Maruja stopped her. “Maruja, I need to lock the door.” The doctor studied her for a moment, then fished her keys out of her handbag and handed them to her. “What about money?” “I have money, remember? Lots of it. Not just for the private detective I hired to find you, but to lavish on you in ways you should be grateful for, like most people would be.” Jessie didn’t bother to remind her that there was more to life than money. She knew it wouldn’t do her any good. Instead, she said, “Okay, lavish me with dinner.” “That’s more like it,” Maruja said with a crazed smile. Jessie hadn’t realized just how twisted the doctor truly was. “Where’s your handbag?” “I’m carrying what we need in a wallet. You don’t think I’m dumb enough to carry a handbag that can easily be snatched in this terrible place, do you?” “It’s not all bad. I work for a judge. I’ve become rather close to her, and she’s—” “Yes, I know all about Judge Hollins, Jessie. Come on now. I’m hungry, too.” Jessie should’ve figured she’d know about Nia. They ate at a nearby diner, and Jessie did her best to appear okay with Maruja’s presence. She knew running or trying to summon help wouldn’t do her any good anyway. After they left the diner, Jessie said, “Maruja, I know it’s cold and you’re probably tired, but I’m not ready to go back yet. I’ve been cooped up indoors all week. I want to stay out for another half hour or so in the fresh air.” “And go where? There’s nothing but buildings, graffiti, prostitutes, and drug dealers around here. How do you enjoy nature?” “By going to the lake, where there are hardly any people.” “What lake?” “Come. Follow me. It’s just a few blocks from here, believe it or not.” They started walking, Maruja keeping a cautious eye on her. “Lake St. Claire. Part of it’s in the US, part of it’s in Canada.” Most of the ground leading up to the lake was flat, but there was a steep hill with a drop-off at one section. If one fell over the cliff, they would hit the large jagged rocks about twenty feet below. Jessie led them in that direction, glad that no one else was around. “The view from up here is nice, but I’m not going too close to the edge. You know I’m afraid of heights.” But Maruja wasn’t afraid at all, and as soon as she walked up to the edge and peered over, Jessie ran up behind her and pushed her to the rocky ground below. Her heart hammered in her chest so badly that it took her a moment to compose herself. She’d almost lost her nerve, afraid she’d fail to get Maruja over the edge and that she’d be the one going over instead. She slowly peered over the edge and down at Maruja’s lifeless body, trying not to shake. She really was afraid of heights. She started to hurry away but then stopped short. Should she go down and take the doctor’s wallet? If she didn’t, it would look like she’d slipped and fallen off the cliff. If she did, it would look like robbery and murder. While crime was common where she was, Jessie opted to just get on with her life. She knew Maruja would eventually be identified, her name would come up, and she would ultimately be questioned. That was okay, though, for she didn’t have to tell anyone that she was actually with her at the time. She wouldn’t lie and say she’d never met Maruja because witnesses at the diner could say otherwise. She’d just say they talked things through and then Maruja had disappeared after walking her back home. Trying not to appear so shaken up, she briskly headed home. Jessie expected the police to go pounding on her door any second over the weekend, but none ever did. Could it take that long for her name to be connected to Maruja? By now, her body had certainly been discovered. Enough people hung out by the lake, especially in the mornings and early afternoons. Yet the days stretched on into weeks. Could Maruja possibly have survived? This was a chilling thought that made Jessie’s skin break out in goosebumps. She was getting afraid to go anywhere she didn’t need to go for fear of running into the crazy doctor, if by some off chance she did make it. “No,” she told herself sternly. “She can’t be alive, and even if she could be, she can’t possibly be in any condition to come calling.” Nia was so perceptive that it was impossible for Jessie to hide her emotions, no matter how much she tried to. Finally, nearly three weeks after the incident, Jessie broke down and told her everything through tearful eyes. “I-I know I should’ve come forward right away.” “Why didn’t you?” the judge asked softly. Jessie thought about it but simply didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know,” she said, “I just don’t know.” Nia hugged her, and Jessie returned the warm embrace. She sobbed on the judge’s shoulder as she rubbed her back gently. “Thank you so much for listening and letting me get this out,” Jessie said a moment later. Nia nodded, empathy and concern showing in her warm chocolate eyes. “You’ll need to tell the police everything you told me. You know that, right?” Jessie nodded. Then, almost afraid to ask, she said, “Then what?” “I don’t know, sweet pea. First, we have to find out where this nutjob is. I agree she should’ve been found, and the police should have questioned you by now.” “Maybe she was found and is laid up in the hospital.” “Even so,” said Nia, “why hasn’t anyone questioned you yet?” Jessie shrugged. “I’ve been wondering that, too.” When it was discovered that the police had no reports of any bodies by the lake, and the hospitals in the area hadn’t received anyone fitting Maruja’s description, this led everyone to one theory and one theory only: Maruja had survived. For Jessie’s safety, and also due to their growing fondness for each other, she moved into the judge’s condo. It was far nicer, newer, and safer than the cramped, little, dumpy studio. Jessie loved everything about her “chocolate other half,” as she liked to say. She hated the winter but loved that she had Nia to help keep her warm. The spring was even more appreciated than usual since the winters were so cold and snowy. The summer was heaven. Nearly a year later, Jessie was finally able to stop looking over her shoulder. Wherever Maruja had gone, whatever had really happened to her, she was smart enough to stay away from her. Perhaps living with a prominent judge of the city was the deterrent. Whatever it was, wherever she was, Jessie was grateful to have her as a thing of the past. By the next summer, she had almost forgotten Maruja entirely. She still cherished the fond memories she had of Calvin, but Maruja was definitely a closed chapter in her life. Until someone reopened that chapter late one summer night when Jessie was alone—someone who no longer needed a cane to walk with, someone who held a loaded gun to her side, determined to fulfill their every need and desire.