"Never thought you'd leave Yosemite."

"I never thought I would, either. But it got too crowded and busy for me. Every damn weekend was like Fourth of July in Yellowstone."

Roger leaned forward then, resting his arms on the cluttered desk before him. "Won't have that problem here, although we get more crowded every year. Tahoe is no longer a sleepy little village and folks wanting peace and quiet hear about Sierra City. They tell two friends and so on. I've been here six years, McKenna, and they've only allowed me one more position in that time. Wouldn't be getting SAR now if those three skiers hadn't gotten lost and died this spring. Hell, we had two goddammed volunteers and me looking for them."

"Sorry, Roger."

"Yeah. But it happens. What I'm saying is, don't think you're going to be strictly SAR. We all wear a lot of hats here. Although I remember your aversion to being a tour guide."

A comfortable silence followed while they looked each other over, then identical smiles touched their faces.

"I've missed you," she said.

"Hell, me too." Then he leaned forward. "Remember that old bar in Gardiner, just across the Wyoming border?"

"Oh, yeah," she nodded. "That's where you taught me to drink."

"My ass. You could drink me under the table. We've got the Rock House Cafe here. The Rock, as the locals call it, is the only bar in town. Let me buy you a cold beer. Maybe we'll stay long enough for dinner. They've got great steaks."

"You're on, but... I'll have to skip the steaks. I'm a vegetarian," she told him.

"McKenna? A vegetarian? What the hell is wrong with you?"

She laughed. "Some woman turned me on to it awhile back."

"No doubt. And was this woman someone special?" he asked with a grin.

"She was," Chris agreed.

"But not anymore?"

Chris didn't answer for a moment, not really wanting to bring up all that old baggage. It had been so long, anyway. But Roger was Roger and she remembered when he had helped her through her very first breakup, only a few months after she had met him. She looked up and met his eyes, knowing he was remembering that, too.

"It's been eight years," she finally said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Bad breakup?"

Chris laughed. "I made a total ass of myself," she said. "Damn near chased her to San Francisco."

Roger laughed, too. "If I remember, McKenna, you were always the one being chased."

"Yeah, well, I was in love," she said dramatically. She scratched a nonexistent itch on the  back of her neck before  continuing.

"Actually, she decided she liked men better. Talk about a blow to your ego," she said.

"Sorry, McKenna."

She shrugged. "Well, this particular man was the only child of a millionaire father. Who could blame her?" she said sarcastically.

"Women are fickle," Roger murmured. "Who needs them."

Chris smiled. "That mean you're single?"

Roger grinned. "Hell, no. Got me a woman here in town. I was just trying to make you feel better."

"Thanks a lot. I think I'll take you up on that beer now."

"Sure. And we'll see if Dave can whip something up for you."

Chapter Three

She rushed in, barely pausing at the receptionist's desk on her way past.

"She ready?"

"Yes, Ms. Stone, she's been waiting."

Jessie knocked lightly on the door, then stuck her head inside, smiling apologetically at her therapist.

"Jessie. Come in." Dr. Davies's smile was brief. "You're late. Again," she added.

"Sorry, Doc. I couldn't break away."

Jessie tossed her purse on the opposite chair before sitting. After all these months, she was still nervous whenever she visited Dr. Davies. Whenever she managed to keep her appointment, that is. It was supposed to get easier, she was told, but there was just something about facing her week after week, knowing the good doctor knew all the intimate details of her life. Well, those she would share, anyway.

"You missed last week. Again." Dr. Davies leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. "I was worried. After our session the last time, you seemed upset."

"I always seem upset." Jessie sat back in her chair, her ankle resting casually on her knee and she absently twirled the string of her black Reeboks. "I'm just trying to wrap up the book. I get so involved, days just pass by. You know how it is."

"So you haven't given thought to what I suggested?"

Jessie swallowed nervously, her eyes moving quickly around the room, bouncing off the now familiar paintings and prints that adorned the walls, lighting everywhere except on her therapist.

"I can see you have," Dr. Davies said quietly.

"No. I just can't see myself going back to Sierra City after all this time. I might very well end up as a character in one of my books."

Dr. Davies laughed lightly. "You already are a character in one of your books. Several times over, I think." She paused before continuing. "You've been coming to me for nearly two years, Jessie. I hate to admit it, but we've made little progress. Perhaps confronting your mother..."

"She's not my mother," Jessie spat.

"I'm sorry. Annie. I think if you would go back, confront her, talk to her, get some sort of closure on that part of your life, then we can go forward from there."

Jessie stared at her, unblinking, then let her eyes slide away. Six therapists in the last five years and all but one had suggested she go back to see .. her. Then Jessie wryly flicked her eyes to the ceiling. Of course, the lone dissenter had suggested Jessie see a psychiatrist, hinting at hospitalization, shortly after she had read Jessie's latest book and its graphic depiction of murder.

"Let's seriously give it some thought, Jessie. I'm not suggesting you go back to reconcile, I'm only suggesting you go see her and talk about what happened, tell her how you feel about her."

"Oh, believe me, she knows how I feel."

Dr. Davies nodded. Jessie could see frustration in the doctor's eyes for the first time and she suddenly understood why they all suggested the same thing. They made progress only to a certain point, then each session consisted of rehashing the old stuff over and over again. Jessie suspected they got just as tired as she did discussing the same thing until they beat it to death, only to see it find life again the next week.

"It's been two weeks since we talked but I know you're finishing up your book. Have you gone out?"

Jessie nodded. "A couple of times."

"And?" she prodded.

"And what?" Jessie stood quickly, rustling the papers on Dr. Davies's desk as she walked past. "Nothing's changed, Doc. I didn't suddenly find a conscience and a set of morals in the last two weeks."

"Tell me what happened."

Jessie paced back and forth in the large office, remembering the two encounters. She shook her head. She hated this part. So she tried the casual approach.

"Just meeting new friends at the bar, you know. No big deal. One was even quite nice," Jessie added.

"And you took her to your place?"

Jessie stared. "Are you kidding? I didn't like her that much."

Dr. Davies leaned back in her chair and watched Jessie pace. "And why do you think you didn't invite her to your apartment?"

Jessie turned on her. "Why do you ask me that every week? I keep telling you, I don't like them that much. I don't want them at my home. It was just sex."

Dr. Davies pointed at the chair in front of her desk. "Sit down, Jessie, you're making me dizzy."

When Jessie finally settled in the chair, she continued. "Do you even remember their names?"

"I don't recall asking," Jessie replied.

Dr. Davies sighed wearily. "I don't need to tell you how destructive this is, not only to yourself but to these women as well."

"Oh, please. These women go willingly. They're not out looking for love, Doc, just a quick release and then it's right back out there."

"Are you sure? None of these women were actually attracted to you? None of them took a liking to you for what's inside?"

"What's to like? I'm not a nice person," Jessie admitted.

Dr. Davies paused, studying her, and Jessie shifted nervously, only barely talking herself out of bolting from the room.

"Let's go back, Jessie," Dr. Davies suggested. "We've discussed your childhood and your adult life. We always seem to skip over your adolescence."

Jessie shrugged, her brain desperately trying to recall memories.

"Tell me about... ninth grade," Dr. Davies suggested.

"I don't remember anything special. Just starting high school."

"Boyfriends?"

"No."

"What about birthday parties?"

"No."

"Were you in any clubs?"

"Not that I recall."

"Well, what did you do in high school?"

"Do? I didn't do anything. I went to school."

"Jessie, you must have had some outside activities. What about at home? What did you do for entertainment?"

Jessie stared hard at her, trying to read behind the questions. "I don't remember doing anything."

"What about your father? You remember him when you were a child. How about later? Did you still go camping with him, fishing?"

Jessie shook her head. "No. He died."

"You were seventeen when he died. What about before?"

Jessie shrugged. "I'm sure he was there," she murmured. "I just don't have any memories of him then."

"What about your mother? Annie?"

"What about her?"

"Was she there when you came home from school?"