CHAPTER TWELVE
Jessie was nervous, but she had Ryan make a pit stop anyway.
He had wanted to return to Central Station right away.
His multiple calls to Drew Hartwell had gone unanswered, and they couldn’t just sit around.
While they waited for him to get back to them, Ryan wanted to dive into the possible connections between the victims and review the Ring camera footage.
But Jessie insisted that they go somewhere else first.
“What is this about?” Ryan asked as he pulled the car over across the street from the mansion Jessie had pointed out to him. “We really have to get back.”
“And we will,Jessie assured him, “But I want to tell you something first. Can we just press pause on the investigation for a minute?”
“Okay,” he said, inhaling deeply, apparently to calm himself down. “I’m listening.”
“Thank you,” she said, nodding at the house. “Do you know who used to live there?”
“No idea.”
“Do you recall that case I handled a few months ago with a series of murders seemingly involving former beauty pageant contestants?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Well, that’s where one of the victims was murdered. Her name was Rebecca Martinez. Her husband was Kai Cody, the guy who plays for the Angels.”
“I remember you mentioning that,” Ryan said.
“Right, well, when we were interviewing Cody, he said something that stuck with me. Once we cleared him of involvement, I asked how he was managing to function after the death of his wife. He said that he’d developed this technique over the course of his career that helped him in a big moment in a game, or when he was being heckled by fans at an opposing team’s stadium.
He said that he was using it to deal with Rebecca’s death. ”
“What technique?”
“He said that he kind of shut out everything except the microscopic details of the task in front of him. For example, how much was the pitcher that he was facing sweating? Was the wind making the flags at the back of the stadium blow at all? Was the bat he was holding positioned at the perfect angle? He claimed that focusing on the minutiae allowed him to block out distractions. He called it ‘focused detachment’ and said he was employing it to get through the emotional pain of the moment he was in.”
“Okay, that makes a lot of sense,” Ryan conceded, “but I still don’t get why we’re here.”
“Because I’m trying to make a point,” she told him.
“What he said really resonated with me. I wondered if I could possibly use this ‘focused detachment’ technique when I felt like the urge to inflict violence was starting to overwhelm me. So I tried it, and amazingly, it’s been working, at least more than any of the methods they taught me at that treatment facility in Sicily. ”
Ryan was quiet for a moment.
“So are you saying that you’re cured?” he asked skeptically.
She shook her head.
“I don’t think that there is any ‘cured’ when it comes to what I have.
Unrelenting bloodlust doesn’t just go away.
But since I’ve started doing what he said—focusing on small details in these big moments of conflict—I haven’t had any major setbacks.
It really seems to be helping. I’m obviously not in the clear.
I think this will be a constant struggle for me, but I finally feel like I have a tool that can help me in the fight. ”
“That’s really great,” he said with genuine enthusiasm. “I’m glad that this seems to be helping, even if it’s not a traditional form of treatment. But I still don’t get why we’re talking about this now.”
“Because last night on the way home, after my bad taste joke about getting me pregnant, you understandably expressed concern about my violent urges,” she reminded him.
“But other stuff came up before I could share this with you. And being so close to where Kai Cody lived was like a flashing light reminding me that I’d left things unresolved. ”
“Left what unresolved?”
She took a deep breath, fully aware that she wouldn’t ever be able to backtrack from what she was about to say.
“Look, whether we do or don’t have kids, either on our own or through adoption, is an issue that has to be resolved.
But I don’t think my ability—or lack thereof—to control those urges is an excuse to push off the conversation.
I’m trying to get a handle on this, and I think I’m finally on the road to getting there.
Besides, my impulses were never really a credible argument against being parents.
The bloodlust I feel is directed at serial killers, at spree murderers, at the worst of the worst. It’s never been directed at the regular people I encounter, and certainly not at children.
I understand your concerns, but they’re misdirected.
I feel like it’s a way to avoid the real issue. ”
“Which is?” he asked, borderline defensively.
Jessie took a deep breath before responding, hoping it would give her the courage to say what she had to say.
“The same one we’ve always had, Ryan,” she said.
“You want to be a father. And I’m not sure I want to be a mother.
I’ve told you my concerns about getting pregnant, both in terms of what it could do to my career, but especially regarding my health after all the injuries I’ve had.
But there’s another reason I’m hesitant, one I haven’t been completely forthright about. ”
“What?” he asked apprehensively.
She closed her eyes tightly, debating whether she really wanted to go there. But she’d opened this door and now she had to step through it.
“You know what my life was like before becoming a profiler for the LAPD. I was a graduate student in a seemingly happy marriage. You know that I got pregnant and was excited about it. And you know that my own husband poisoned me to induce a miscarriage, nearly killing me in the process.”
“I remember,” Ryan said quietly.
“Well, I mourned that loss for a long time afterward,” Jessie said.
“I thought I was on one life path, and suddenly it was over. Everything I thought I knew that I wanted was turned upside down. And that still sticks with me. I don’t think I could handle the anguish of another miscarriage. I’m not sure I’m built for that.”
Ryan nodded and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently.
“I understand,” he whispered.
They were both quiet for a while. In that moment, she was aware that, as forthright as she was being, there was still a nagging concern about parenthood that she wasn’t sharing with Ryan.
But it was one so deep and dark that she thought she should address it at her next therapy session with Dr. Lemmon before dropping it on her unsuspecting husband. She decided to focus elsewhere for now.
“I know we were considering adoption too, before I had my ‘setback,’” she said.
“And maybe that’s something we can still discuss down the road.
But right now, I think even that, without the pregnancy element, would be too much for me.
Regardless, I wanted to be clear: the impediment to our future as parents isn’t my mental health.
It’s that I’m not sure I want to be a mom. And until I’m sure, I won’t be one.”
Ryan looked out the window at the house where Rebecca Martinez was killed, but Jessie sensed that he didn’t really see it. He just didn’t want to look at her in this moment. When he turned to face her, his eyes were wet.
“Okay. You let me know if that changes,” he said. “Until then, I won’t bring it up again.”
He started the car up and pulled out into the street. They made the rest of the trip back to the station in silence.