“Liddy, please listen. She told me when I was here that summer right after we’d both graduated high school. I was going in a study-abroad program, and I was only going to be here for a few days.”
Liddy sat back down slowly. “I remember.”
“Jess and I spent the day before I left at the beach, and it was almost like old times. Among other things that day, she told me she was happy to be out of school because it meant her coach wouldn’t make her have sex with him anymore.”
“Stop. Just stop.” Liddy’s face went white. “She told you this? She said . . . ?”
Grace nodded.
Liddy covered her face with her hands. When the anger hit, it hit hard. She exploded. “You’ve known about this all this time and you didn’t tell me? You knew all along? You KNEW?”
“When she told me what happened, I asked her if she’d told you and she said no. He told her he had photos of her that she wouldn’t want you to see,” Grace said softly, trying to remain composed in the face of Liddy’s anger. “I said she had to tell you anyway. That you wouldn’t care about the pictures—you only cared about her. I made her promise to tell you that night, and she said she would. I had no reason to think she hadn’t. Jess and I didn’t see each other for years, and we grew apart, so we never spoke of it again. She was in Boston painting, and I was in Philadelphia practicing law. Liddy, if I’d thought for one moment she hadn’t told you, I would have.”
“But you knew she’d taken her life. You had to think it was connected to . . .” Liddy wasn’t aware of the tears that were falling.
“Even if I’d thought there was a connection, I thought you knew. I had no idea what her life had been like, what other things might have happened during all those years we didn’t see each other. It wasn’t until I read the story in the newspaper I started putting things together. I still wasn’t one hundred percent positive, so I pulled up everything about the case I could find on the internet. Jess could have been the first girl he abused, or there could have been someone before her who still hasn’t come forward. I think when she realized how many others had been hurt after her . . . I think she sank under the guilt. I checked the date the story broke against the date of her death. She died a little more than two weeks after the story hit the news.”
Liddy was speechless. Could Grace be right? Had that horrible man done to her daughter what he’d done to the others? She couldn’t believe Jess hadn’t told her, that she’d kept it to herself all those years. She was about to tell Grace she was wrong—she must have misunderstood—when she thought of the note Jim had found in Jess’s hand.
It’s all my fault. I should have told. I’m so sorry.
A sob broke from her throat, and she leaned against the back of the chair to keep from falling over as the truth became clear: Jessie had believed her silence had permitted Bowers to move on to abusing other girls in the same manner in which he’d abused her. If not for the bravery of the last girl he’d assaulted, he would still be getting away with it.
Liddy fought to control her anger and the terrible pain sweeping through her. She wiped her eyes with the tissue Maggie handed her and looked toward the heavens as if asking for strength. “But why didn’t she trust us? Why didn’t she tell us?” She looked at Grace as if expecting her to answer.
“I can only guess she was ashamed of what happened, that she thought somehow she was responsible for it. This guy Bowers groomed her very carefully. She told me he said he was in love with her, he couldn’t live without her. Maybe at first she was flattered, but by the time she realized it was a mistake, he threatened her, and I guess she thought there was no way out.
“When I was between my second and third years in law school, I interned with the local district attorney’s office. There were several cases similar to this one. These guys all follow the same pattern, and Bowers followed it to a T. Jess wasn’t responsible for what happened to her, any more than any of the other girls were responsible for what happened to them. I wish with all my heart we’d remained close. She might have confided in me when the story broke. I could have been there for her.”
“My poor baby. My poor girl. To have had to endure that abuse, and then years later to have it all come back in such a terrible way.” Liddy crossed her forearms on the tabletop, rested her head on them, and wept, Maggie gently rubbing her back and saying all the things your best friend said when your heart was breaking. Finally, when she was for the moment cried out, she lifted her head and asked, “Did you catch the name of the woman from the DA’s office who’s prosecuting the case?”
“It started with a P. Perry? No, I think it was Priest,” Grace said. “I don’t remember her first name.”
Liddy got up and looked for her phone. “I’m calling the courthouse.”
“Liddy, it’s almost ten o’clock at night,” Maggie pointed out. “The courthouse is closed. There’s time enough to call in the morning.”
Liddy nodded and drank from the glass Grace had set out for her.
“I’m all right. Thank you, Grace, for telling me. I hated hearing it, but I believe you’re right. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Her dying within a few weeks of the story breaking—that can’t be a coincidence. Up until then, she’d seemed really happy. She’d been painting more than she had been in a long time, and it was the best work she’d ever done.”
“Liddy, I’m so sorry. I hated to tell you. But—”
“I know you did. I know it wasn’t easy for you, but you were right to tell me. At least now I know the truth. It’s going to haunt me as long as I live, but at least I know. Not knowing was harder.” Liddy wrapped her arms around Grace and hugged her hard.
“Thank you for not shooting the messenger.” A drained and weary Grace let Liddy hold on to her.
“Are you all right, Lids?” Maggie, too, looked worn out from the emotional hour that had just passed.
“I’ll be okay.” Liddy released her hold on Grace.
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Maggie’s face creased with concern. “Honey, you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“Thanks for offering.” Liddy patted Maggie’s arm and walked them to the door. “But I won’t be.”
She was still sitting at the kitchen table when the doorbell rang. Her legs felt like wooden sticks as she slowly walked to the front door and opened it.
“I got here as quickly as I could.” An ashen-faced Jim took her hands. “What happened?”
“Come inside. There’s something you need to hear.”
Liddy repeated the story Grace had told earlier. Jim listened, never interrupting, but his face reflected the pain as he began to understand what had driven their beloved daughter to take her life. When she finished, Jim got up and walked outside to the deck. Seconds later, the sound of his sobs filled the room. Liddy gave him some time alone before joining him. He was seated at the end of one of the lounges, his arms hanging loosely between his knees, his head down. She knew his pain was as fierce and as sharp as hers.
“Jim, talk to me.” Liddy sat behind him on the lounge and wrapped an arm around his middle.