Page 4 of The Perfect Accomplice

“By the end of the week,” Jessie said.

“It’s already Thursday,” Lemmon noted.

“I’m well aware,” Jessie replied.

That was an understatement. The truth was that every time her phone rang over the last few days, she’d gotten a small pit in her stomach as she checked who it was from. And every time it turned out not to be from her doctor, she experienced an odd combination of relief and disappointment.

“So here’s the big question,” Lemmon said, “if you are able to conceive, what then?”

“I guess then I’m out of excuses. I’ll have to deal with this stuff for real.”

“Don’t you think you should be dealing with it anyway?” Lemmon nudged. “Like you said, you’ve kept your feelings about what happened to you buried for a long time. Maybe that’s something you should consider discussing with your husband?”

“Probably,” Jessie conceded reluctantly.

“And maybe, in anticipation of that discussion, we try to unearth those feelings here?”

Jessie shrugged. “I guess as long as I’m here, we may as well not waste the time.”

“Okay then,” Lemmon said, leaning forward. “I want you to go back to the moment when you first learned you were pregnant three years ago. Do you remember how—”

Jessie’s phone, which was on silent, buzzed softly. She tried to ignore it but saw that Lemon had noticed it too.

“I’m sorry,” she said to the psychiatrist. “People know they’re not to contact me until after 9:30. I guess someone forgot.”

Lemmon’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“Or,” she said, reading Jessie’s mind, “someone thought it was important enough to reach out even though you specifically said not to.”

“There’s that possibility,” Jessie admitted.

“Go ahead and check,” Lemmon said. “I’ll never get your full attention unless you know one way or another.”

“Thanks,” Jessie replied, quickly pulling out the phone and looking at the screen.

She didn’t mention that some small part of her was relieved to at least temporarily delay facing the emotional minefield this discussion would unearth.

“It’s Ryan,” she said. “He knows where I am, and he wouldn’t call unless he had a good reason. Do you mind?”

Lemmon obviously did but shook her head that she didn’t. Jessie answered the phone.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your session,” he said urgently, “but a case just came in—a murder in the Hollywood Hills— and Parker wants you and me to take it. Are you able to cut things short?”

“Sure,” Jessie answered, not looking up to see Lemmon’s expression. “What happened?’

“I don’t know the details yet, but Parker said Chief Decker specifically requested us for this one, so it’s got to be big.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Jessie said.

She stood up as she hung up the phone. Lemmon watched her with impressively unjudgmental eyes.

“You’re not going to ream me out?” Jessie asked.

"You do what you need to do," Lemmon said gently. "But just remember, these other issues aren't going away on their own. At some point, hopefully soon, you need to make your emotional well-being a priority. Otherwise, you won't be much good to anybody."

“Message received,” Jessie said as she headed for the door.

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