Night Walker's Woman Ch. 13

"Grandfather says we don't have to be like our Mommys and Daddys either. That we all have our own path to walk. Don't worry. I'm not like Daddy. I promise. I know that now. And Grandfather says I'm right," her daughter turned and smiled across the room at the old man.

How could she possibly think about taking Angel away from the old man? Her daughter needed this man's wisdom and guidance. It was for sure that she had no idea how to provide that.

But watching as Rex broke away from the other men and came closer to her, she battled to stand her ground, not to turn and flee. Didn't he know? Couldn't he see? She would never be good enough for someone like him. She had too much blood on her hands. And her soul.

"I'll make you a sandwich until dinner, Nʉ Sʉmʉ. Do you feel up to talking to Ryan now?"

She nodded her head; it was the least she could do. She had tried to tell Sherriff Todd about Sean's murder confession, but all he could do was promise to pass the information along to the proper authorities in Fort Worth.

Maybe Rex's cousin would take the girl's death more seriously. Why else would he want to speak with her? Her hand went to her mouth, were there others? Was that why the federal government was involved? Had her ex-husband been a serial killer?

Those thoughts were still on her mind as Rex's cousin, who was a slightly blonder and bigger version of him, led her out of the house onto the front porch.

"I don't want your daughter hearing us," was all he said as he closed not just the screen door but the wooden inner one as well.

"Thank you for that. Will Angel really have to be interviewed?"

He nodded, "But I have arranged for our best children's therapist to come here. She will use play and art with Angel. I don't want to push the child too much. Rex explained about her medical condition."

He smiled, "And Grandfather told me about the rest. So, Angel will only know Kira as my friend. We'll stay a couple of days and allow things to unfold naturally. Is that acceptable to you?"

Jaycee choked back more tears, brushing them away with the back of her hand, "It sounds as fair as it can be, I suppose. I just wish she did not have to relive the..." She inhaled and clasped her hands together in her lap as she began to rock in the old swing. "Her father's death," she forced the words out.

Ryan nodded, "I can understand that. But sometimes talking is the best thing. Kira is one of the best. I know she'll be happy to talk to you, too, about ways that you can help Angel cope when we leave. Are you up for a few questions?" He pulled up an old wooden chair next to the table.

She could only nod at first, "But I don't know how much I have to add. Sean and I have barely seen one another since the divorce a couple of years ago."

He nodded as he took out a small recorder and pushed some buttons, "I know you understand."

"Sure, I'll tell you whatever I can. But you realize that I am an attorney, so anything that I might know professionally about Sean's life is probably protected by privilege."

"As an attorney myself, I understand that. So I'd like to focus on your ex-husband's friends and associates outside of the office." His face seemed to redden a bit as he cleared his throat, "The ones from the clubs."

Jaycee's heart froze for a moment. She had honestly thought that no one outside of those places would ever know. As Sean had assured her, even if they did run into someone that they knew, those people would have as much of a vested interest in keeping their secrets, lest their own be revealed. But that obviously was not the case if this man knew. How much did he know?

"Please, Mister Ranger, no one knows about that. That part of our marriage. Or I did not think so," Jaycee stammered.

"Did you know a young woman named Maria Louisa Cortez?"

She nodded slowly, "But I only knew her as Sunshine back then. Before he died, Sean confessed to her murder. I told Sherriff Todd that, but he did not seem very interested."

"I am. The people I work for are. That and anything else you can tell me, Ms. Riley."

"I don't know much. I suppose you are aware that part of my relationship with Sean ended years ago. When I had my daughter. I never had," she blushed deeper and forced out the words.

"That was never my taste, Mr. Ranger. None of it. So, when I had Angel, when she began having seizures, I used that as an excuse to withdraw from that part of our marriage."

"I understand. Can you tell me anything about who your husband associated with? In the clubs?"

She shook her head, "As with that girl, I never knew real names of most of them. Everyone went by some nickname in those places."

"Yes, Zeus and Hera, I believe."

Jaycee sucked in a deep breath, realizing just how much this man might know about a very dark part of her life. "Yes. Sean liked the double entendre of that one. Not just the chief Olympian god, but the black civil rights activist from that action movie. I forget who played him now."

"Did you ever know anyone else's real name? Or recognize anyone?"

"Only one. The man usually wore a mask in the clubs. But once, the last time. I was pregnant with Angel and tired; I went looking for Sean because I wanted to leave early. I came upon them in one of the 'playrooms.' They seemed to be discussing something serious, but I did not hear what. Those places are a tad on the noisy side, as you might imagine. The man had his mask off."

"And how did you know him? What made you recognize this man in particular?"

She chuckled though it sounded forced even to her own ears, "Most people would. That's probably why he wore the mask. When you are the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and a billionaire philanthropist, your picture tends to make the newspapers, Mister Ranger."

The man leaned forward, "And you recognized this man? You can identify who your husband was talking with in that room? One-hundred percent?"

"No witness is one-hundred percent, Mister Ranger. I know you realize that. But yes, yes, I can identify the man beyond all reasonable doubt."

"A name? Who was the man you saw with your husband that night?"

"Gerald McBride."

The man smiled and nodded.

***

Rex watched his mate from the doorway as she fussed over her daughter. Angel had spent much of the day with Guadalupe or Grandfather. Because of the severity of her seizure and the trauma of what she had witnessed, Jaycee had insisted that she not ride her pony for a couple of days, just to be safe. Instead, she had bombarded Grandfather with questions. The old man had done all he could to answer them all honestly, even when the response was 'I don't know' or 'I think...'

The truth was Angel was fairing much better than her mother. As hard as Jaycee had been trying, she had not been able to block him from her mind completely. She was just too exhausted and confused to expend the mental energy it took to keep the walls up all the time.

He had to admit, some of what he had seen bothered him — a lot. The very idea that the other man had casually shared something so precious to him incited rage. But he knew that was not a useful emotion. He had blocked his turmoil over the other. Abuse.

He was not one to judge other people; Grandfather had taught that often enough. So what other people did sexually, the swinging and BDSM was their business. As long as it was truly consensual. But he knew in his mate's case it had never been. None of it. Her husband had coerced and bullied her into doing things that no woman should have to. That sadly was the dark side of that world about which he admittedly knew so little.

Which made knowing what to say or do to help his mate come to terms with that trauma even more difficult. Of course, that was compounded by the fact that Jaycee refused to see what happened to her as abuse. Like so many victims, she blamed herself. She should have said no or so she thought, refusing to recognize the power dynamic of an older, more experienced husband who was also her boss.

Jaycee denied it all. She was bottling her pain, just as she had been for years, perhaps her whole life. But how could he break through all those defenses? And what then? Was he even prepared for what might happen? How did he empower his mate? Help her to build her self-esteem? Show her that she was worthy of love, true love?

She shifted on the bed next to Angel, brushed a stray curl out of her daughter's face. Angel turned towards her mother, opened those soft brown eyes, smiled, and lifted her hand to caress her mother's face, "It's not your fault, Mommy. Daddy made his own choices. Just as we all must."

His mate smiled at her child, yet he could hear the wail in his mind, suspected that Angel could too. Yet that smile never broke as Jaycee bent and kissed her daughter's forehead, "Get some sleep, Angel. Mommy loves you."

She stood and looked down at her child, who had once more closed her eyes, though Rex could see Angel's lips moving, likely in one of his Grandfather's chants. Jaycee brushed passed him without a word or even making eye contact.

He was turning to leave when that small voice whispered in his mind, "It'll be okay."

He looked over his shoulder, but Angel's eyes were still closed, her lips moving in prayer.

He was halfway out the door when the hand on his shoulder stopped him. His throat tightened and his vision blurred as he turned to look into the comforting dark pools of his Grandfather's eyes and the calm, wizened features of a man who had seen so much, knew even more. "Leave her be for a while, my son."

He looked out into the darkness; he could feel her moving, knew where she was going. He should be there for her.

"And you will be. But not yet. Your woman is not ready. As hard as it is, Rex, we can never make choices for another. Not even those we love the most."

"So, what do I do? Just wait?" He wanted to scream, to rage against the Fates that had brought her to him, given him the most precious gift of all, then crushed it all.

"No, my son, you grow. You deal with your own anger and pain. Or you will not be able to help her when she is ready to face hers."

"How, Old Man? How do I deal with this anger and hate? The man is dead. I did not even have the pleasure of killing him myself."

"Because he did the honorable thing. In that final moment, Sean Riley was touched by the light in his child. And he did the only thing he could. He knew that it was too late for him. That he could not win against that thing, against the darkness that he had fed for so long. So, in a brief moment of lucidity, he took the only honorable path open to him. He destroyed that thing."

Anger burst inside of him, "You make him sound so fucking honorable. He killed a young woman. At least one. Who knows how many others? And he..."

He could not bring himself even to say the words. They stuck in his throat. He choked on them. Rex was not even sure he could force air past them.

"And he beat, raped, and abused your mate."

There they were. The words he could not bring himself to say. They hung in the air. They brought him to his knees. His hands gripped his head as if he could pull them and the hundreds, thousands, of images that taunted him from his brain. Excise them like a surgeon wielding a laser scalpel.

Air pushed past that knot, which had threatened to choke him. It erupted like a volcano. The pain and anguish burst forth in screams that he knew would wake the others. But he could not bring himself to stop. If Hector, Guadalupe, or his cousin heard him, he was passed the point of caring. Not even for his beloved child could he tamp down the vitriol.

He collapsed as he once had as a child into the only safety he had ever known. His Grandfather's arms embraced him, became the only solid ground he knew as he cried. Great gulping sobs of hate, anger, shame, fear, and helplessness flowed.

Rex was not sure how long they stayed like that. His head buried in his Grandfather's shoulders, his body wracked and plundered as those floodwaters of pain burst forth. Trembling, tears coursing down his cheeks, wailing from the depths of his battered soul. With only the comfort of the old man's arm to center him.

Then he felt it -- a soft, gentle glow of light and love pushing back the darkness. His eyes opened in wonder and looked into the soft brown ones of the child. Her fingers caressed away the tears as she drew him back with the simple words, "We need you, Rex. Mommy and I need you."

He lifted his head and nodded, still unable to force words passed his throat that had become hoarse with his screams and tears.

His grandfather smiled as he pulled the little girl who had become his protégé into their embrace. "Now you are ready, my son. Now you see. Now you understand that it is only the light, only love, that pushes back the darkness. Pain, anger, hatred get us nowhere. Only love can make us see that which we do not want to."

***

Jaycee sat a few feet from the edge of the cliff. She wondered if it were daylight, would she still be able to see her boot prints in the rocky soil? Or had they been erased by the dozens of local, state, and even federal law enforcement officials, who had spent the past day and a half scouring every inch for clues?

Was that what she was doing here too? Looking for clues? It was so unlike the man she knew to have taken the 'easy' way out. She would have never thought Sean capable of suicide. Then again, had she ever known the man she had been married to for a decade? Evidently, not.

She was still numb. Was it just shock? Or would she always feel this way? His words had bored their way into her mind; she knew that. To realize that she had never been anything more than a breeder to the man was one thing, she had known that all along, at least on some level. The terms of their marriage had left little doubt that her purpose was to produce children.

But she had once thought he had chosen her because he respected her mind, considered her his protégé. That, too, was a lie. The disdain that he had voiced in those final moments played like a loop through her head, eating away every shred of self-confidence she had worked so hard to achieve this past couple of years.

Melanie Kerr's bruised and battered face sprang to her mind. Jaycee had always been so careful to 'own her shit' as she called it. To accept full responsibility for the things that she had done during her marriage to Sean. She had convinced herself that while she did not always enjoy some of it, if any, it had been a journey of self-discovery, of pushing her limits, a rebellion against the 'good girl' mask that she had been forced to wear her whole life. It had all been consensual. Or so she had told herself.

She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the crisp night air. She should have... What known better? Told Sean 'no'? The pressure had been so subtle at first.

They had been on their honeymoon cruise that first time. They had made friends with the only other couple their age. Well, younger actually, at least the woman had been. Nineteen, or so her forty-something husband had claimed. Sean had gotten Jaycee drunk, perhaps even drugged her. Then he had casually suggested that they swap partners for the night.

Jaycee remembered so little of what happened that night. Brief flashes of hands or lips here or there. That was one of the reasons why she had considered the possibility that she had been drugged. Or perhaps the human mind merely blocked that which she did not want to remember?

And there was plenty of that over the next couple of years as they tried to conceive. Other couples. Swingers clubs. As with that first experience usually while on holiday or business trips. She wished she could forget the business trip to Los Angeles. Several hundred people crowded into a large ranch in the hills just outside the city.

She had spent most of that night huddled in a corner, drinking. Eventually, she had drifted out into the cold night, much as she had this time. She had walked and thought about her life and marriage as the sun came up over the mountains.

She had decided then that she had had enough. That perhaps a divorce, a fresh start somewhere else, would be better than this double life that was not her 'cup of tea.' Before they got back to Dallas, before she could work up the courage to speak with Sean, she had become ill. At first, she thought it some tummy bug she had picked up on the trip. But after trying for almost three years to conceive, she quickly recognized the pattern. She was pregnant. At last.

She had convinced herself that a baby, the family Sean always wanted, would settle him down. She was just beginning to show when Sean suggested they try a new place he had heard about. A new 'club' in Austin. Jaycee had tried to beg off, pleading the tiredness associated with her pregnancy. But as before, Sean's had belittled her, badgered her, even thinly veiled threats.

She had only gone a couple of times. This one far beyond her comfort level. Jaycee laid her head on her knees and closed her eyes against the images that sprang unbidden to her mind. She could probably thank her pregnancy that it had not been much worse. Sean had forbidden some of the harsher things such as paddles, electro play, and tawse. But that had not saved her from twenty lashes with the cane on the soles of her feet. Or being tied up like some hog at the Livestock Show and Rodeo and paraded around naked for the perverse pleasure of others.

She felt the tears spill from the edges of her closed eyes. She heard the roar of some mortally wounded animal. She gripped her knees tighter; perhaps if she could curl into a tight enough ball, then she would simply vanish like some magic trick?

Her throat tightened; did she want to? What about Angel? Yesterday, on this same spot, she had come to terms with dying, leaving her child in the tender care of Rex and Grandfather. But that was not what she wanted. She wanted to see Angel grow up - to become this warrior of light that the old man claimed she was.

But could she do it? Could she bring herself to remain here for Angel's sake? To be so close to the man that she loved, and know that he could never see her the same way, never want her again?

She opened her eyes and inhaled the night air. She had been avoiding looking over the edge, half-expecting Sean or that thing to leap from the canyon below. She could still hear the echoes of that laugh off the walls of rock. He had won. Sean might be dead, but the victory was his in the end anyway.

Because she knew that she would never be the same. She was broken. As broken, no, more broken than the mangled body that Rex had tried to shield her from seeing as they wrenched the basket up the side of the cliff and over the edge. It had done no good, though. In the end, it was she who had been forced to identify her ex-husband for the coroner.

It was strange. As maimed and disfigured as his body was, she almost thought she had seen a smile upon his lips. Not that arrogant mockery Sean always wore after a victory in court or the condescending one he used every time they argued. No, there was something genuinely peaceful and serene about it.

That would be the ultimate irony. If his dark and nefarious soul had in death, found something which his final words would forever deny her -- peace and happiness. Love, she had come so close to that one. But she was confident with his words and those images dancing through the streets of her mind, even if she could find the strength to face her demons, Rex would never want something as stained as she.

Jayce lost track of time as she cried, her mind circling the drain, swirling deeper and deeper into the oblivion and pain. No, it had never been her choice. None of it. Nothing about her marriage to Sean had been that consensual lie that she had wanted to believe. The truth was that she was as much a victim of abuse as Melanie Kerr. Perhaps more so, because that woman had found the strength to break free of her abuser, Jaycee would never get that chance.