“What’s troubling you?” Jill asked, going all psychiatrist on her again.
Shouldn’t it be obvious? Her life troubled her.
“You of all people should know,” Tessa said, her voice sharpened with just the slightest trace of an edge, borderline smart-ass.
Jill drained the last of her tea. “You would think so, but I am not a mind reader. You’ll have to tell me.”
No way was she going to reveal her thoughts about her and Sam. Realizing that it was juvenile of her to even be having these thoughts about two people she cared for, she pinched the bridge of her nose, looked at the drops of condensation streaming down her glass, and shook her head side to side. “We would be here all night, and then some if I were to tell you all the raging thoughts going through my head right now. I’m pissed, and trust me, that’s putting it nicely, that Rosa kept quiet about whatever it is that she knew. She could have gone to anyone. I doubt they would have asked for her green card. It was wrong, Jill, and you know it. She might have information that could have kept me out of prison for the past ten years. Wouldn’t you feel . . . anger, something, toward the person who might have held your life in their hands and just let it drop, as if it were a worthless piece of nothing?”
“Of course I would. It’s perfectly normal to feel that way. I can’t explain the whys of Rosa’s behavior, but I do know that fear is a very strong motivating factor for most people. Given the fact that she wasn’t in the States legally, in her mind, maybe she thought that what she saw wasn’t enough to prove your innocence, so why risk the authorities’ discovering she was here illegally? I don’t know that any of this is true, but it’s a good guess. Tessa, they never had any physical evidence against you. All they had was circumstantial. The odds are in your favor now.”
Tessa rolled her eyes. Leave it to Jill to try to make sense of Rosa’s actions or lack thereof. “They sure as hell weren’t before, and I don’t really know that she can offer anything now, at least anything of value.”
“With Poppy’s drawings, Rosa’s coming forth, and the Florida Supreme Court’s ruling, I think the advantage is all yours. You’re afraid, aren’t you?” Jill asked.
Afraid was putting it mildly. Night after night, week after week, year after year, she had spent most of her days and nights reliving what she should have done, what she could have done to save her daughters. Visions of them lying in the pool, in all that blood, tormented her. Joel was not Joel, even in death. It’d taken her almost three full years after their murders to regain her memory of that day. The bits and pieces that hovered on the edge of her consciousness had been enough. Then the full memory of finding them that day exploded in her mind, like a million fireworks going off, and she had lost it for a while, but somehow she had managed to push the memories into a place in her mind that was safe, and any hope of ever proving her innocence was lost. She had learned to get through each day minute by minute, and planned her eventual death, and now she knew it wasn’t meant to be.
“Tessa,” Jill said. “Are you all right?”
“Sorry, I’m not used to . . . this”—she waved her hand—“freedom. Conversations. Normal people. However, I heard your question, and yes, I am afraid. I have been since May fourth, two thousand and eleven.”
Sam chose that moment to return to the kitchen. “Darlene contacted the company that packed up the house. Luck is on our side. Apparently, the owner’s nephew was working for the company at the time. Said he remembered the day well because he’d heard about the . . . murders. Darlene has arranged for him to come to the house tonight. I called Lee. He’ll be here to question him. He will come before Rosa gets here.”
“That’s excellent news,” Jill said. “Tessa, are you good with this?”
She sighed. “Yes, if it helps find out what happened to my family, do whatever you have to. I would like to talk to him, too. I never came back to the house once I was taken into custody and arrested. It’s so damned bizarre. I’m asking strangers to remember what they might have seen in my child’s bedroom when I should have known. I hope he can help.”
Tessa suddenly felt overwhelmed. The day had been emotionally exhausting, and it was just beginning.
“It was big news here, so if this man says he remembers packing the rooms, I’m guessing he has information of some value. As you said, you never came back to the house after your arrest,” Sam said. “You were in shock. You wouldn’t have recalled anything standing out.”
Tessa thought about this. Sam was right again. “I have tried over the years, nothing other than—” She stopped. “I’d just lost my family. I only recall the blood, their bodies.”
Jill placed her hand on top of Tessa’s. “I can’t even begin to imagine. If you were a patient, and you’re not, plus I have never treated anyone who has lost their family in such a horrific manner, but if I had, I would tell them whenever a memory of a tragedy overcomes them, try to consciously replace it with something positive. A special memory, one that brought joy, one that makes one smile.”
“Makes perfect sense. I have tried over the years, and I recall dozens of special times with the girls, and Joel, but returning to this house, it’s hard not to think of why I had to leave in the first place.” Tessa thought at least she could now say this without crying. That was an improvement, but her anger seethed with a mounting rage so strong, it
