In a voice full of disbelief, the tall cop said, "Geez, I'm not gonna go around talking about this to anybody."

"Why?" Marie said. "You deserve support and understanding just as much as the next person."

The dark-haired woman shook her head slowly and narrowed her eyes. She set the tea mug on the table and sat back. "It's crazy, Marie. I'm not telling people. I - I - just can't!" She looked down at her hands in her lap, then shrugged.

"What about your partner, Jaylynn Savage?"

Dez started again, then looked away toward the gloomy skies out the window. "What about her?"

"Why don't you get together with her, talk to her about what you are going through?"

The tall cop's voice was quiet and weary. "She won't want to know."

"How do you know that? Why couldn't you share your feelings with someone who has been your work partner for the better part of a year?"

Dez took a deep breath. "She's been more than my work partner." Marie didn't seem too surprised, and she thought that the therapist must know what everyone else did. "Look, she got involved with me because she thought I was a strong person. That's what she liked best about me, I think. I can't go breaking down and whining, acting like some sort of weakling."

"Why?"

Dez rose and went to the window, letting the feeling of bleakness roll over her. It had been nearly two weeks since she had last seen Jaylynn, far too long since they had talked. She missed her terribly, felt a lonely ache for her that nothing - not sleep, not alcohol, not sheer willpower - could assuage. Yet she knew that to spend any significant time with the blonde would result in her breaking down, totally losing it. Jaylynn brought out everything weak in her, made her feel vulnerable in ways she couldn't explain, much less understand.

Leaning with one hand on the molding around the window frame, she said, "I just can't ... I need to work this out, get my shit together. Gotta do it by myself."

Marie sat in her chair, switching to tuck the other leg under the opposite thigh. She smiled a little smile and shook her head. "Desiree Reilly, you haven't got a clue!" When the tall woman turned and faced her, a frown on her face, Marie broke into a wide grin. "You, girl, need one great big giant lesson in intimacy. I think I've been too easy on you lately. Get over here and sit down."

With a flat, impassive look on her face, Dez slowly moved over to the chair in which she had been sitting, and folded herself down into it.

Marie squinted up her eyes, and grinned again. "Hmm ... where should I begin here? Let's see ..." She looked up to the ceiling as Dez watched. "Intimacy and trust - those are two key elements here. It's interesting to see that over these few appointments, you have opened up enough to me to show me important and intimate details of your life. From these sessions I already know you very well - probably better than your mother does at the moment."

Dez nodded. "That's definitely a no-brainer."

"You hide behind those steely blue eyes. You think no one knows or understands. You feel far too alone - more alone than any human being should feel. And yet, affection and compassion and friendship are yours for the asking. And I think you know that. So tell me, why would you deny yourself the good things you deserve?"

"I - I don't know." She felt her face begin to flush, and then, with dread, it seemed that she might start crying again.

"How old do you feel - how old are you, right now, this very moment, Dez?"

The dark-haired woman closed her eyes, and what came to mind was a pair of brand spanking new tan and white saddle shoes, with brilliant white laces. She could see them from above, as though she were looking down at the legs of a ten-year-old. "Ten," she said, opening her eyes. She continued to look down into her lap, not daring to meet the therapist's eyes.

"If you are ten right now, how do you feel?" In almost a whisper, Marie said, "Your father is still alive, right?"

Tears welled up in confused blue eyes, and the t-shirt clad chest constricted so tightly that Dez couldn't breathe. A sharp gasp emerged from her, and the only thing that kept her in the chair was the certain knowledge that if she rose, she might fall over into a faint. She raised her eyes to meet Marie's, then looked away as she felt the first of a stream of hot tears running down her face. Crossing her arms over her chest, she fought to gain control, knowing that it was a losing battle. Still, she thought she ought to fight it.

Marie did not speak, and Dez would not look at her. She closed her eyes and thought of her father, the dark-haired, laughing dynamo who used to grab her by her wrists and swing her around the room until she was dizzy and shrieking with happiness. She could almost see his face clearly, drink in his love, imagine the smell of his aftershave.

It hurt too much. Really, she thought, this is just too much to bear. She closed her eyes and the first thing that came to her mind was a bar: a solid metal bar at eye level, parallel to the ground, with large weights on either end. In her mind's eye, she ducked her head underneath with her knees bent beneath her, grasped the metal rod on either side of her upper arms, and settled the bar across her shoulders. She imagined straightening up, stepping back out of the rack, and doing a deep squat, then rising swiftly. Air rushed out of her mouth, and she felt a surge of power throughout her body, even though she knew, simultaneously, that she sat in a deep brown chair, low to the ground, in a multi-colored room overflowing with toys and papers and other stuff.

"Dez."

She opened her eyes and met the dark brown eyes across from her.

"Where did you go? Tell me about what just happened."

She didn't want to go back there, back to the saddle shoes, to the wool jumper and knee socks, back to the time before her father died when she still felt him, knew him, loved him. She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

Marie nodded. "Okay. I want you to think about this - maybe even write things down, too. The feelings you just had, the memories you just experienced, they are one of the keys to your pain. The unhappiness, the fear, the worry, the sadness - all of that-has to do with very old grief. You need to get it out, examine it, feel it ..."

"I can't!" The two words exploded from the tall woman like a gunshot.

"Because it hurts too much?"

Dez nodded mutely.

"I will help you."

* * *

Dez finished off a bowl of canned peaches. She had rinsed the heavy syrup from them, but they still tasted overly sweet. She'd eaten a bowl of oatmeal and her vitamins, and after she got the cabin straightened around, she decided she would go on a very long hike.

Twenty minutes later the dishes were done, the kitchen floor was swept, and she had changed into hiking boots with gaiters, heavy jeans, a t-shirt, and a thick, long-sleeved wool sweater. In a dark green daypack she also carried a Gore-Tex coat rolled around a pair of heavy-duty mittens. When she hiked, she was usually more than warm enough so long as the temperature was above twenty degrees, but if something happened and she had to slow down, she might get chilled and need the coat. So far, even with all the walking she had done in the past two weeks, she'd never needed to take the coat or gloves out.

The daypack also contained a flashlight, matches in a waterproof container, her fully charged cell phone, a turkey and mayo sandwich, a bag of shelled peanuts, one Hershey's chocolate bar, and two peeled oranges in a small plastic bag. A quart of water was tucked into the mesh pocket on the left, and her gun and some spare bullets were in the right pocket. She was ready for anything.

She tossed the pack into her truck and gave Dewey a wave as she drove past his place. He waved back. If she wasn't back by dark, he knew well enough to come looking for her. She figured on returning to the cabin by mid-afternoon.

Up the road she went. Patches of snow that had been there only a few days ago had melted, and the ground was dry and frozen. With the leaves off the deciduous trees, the woods had dried up considerably. She might run into some muddy stretches, but for the most part, she expected the trail to be accessible.

It was only a few miles to an entrance for the Superior Hiking Trails. She parked the Ford in one of the many gravel lots hollowed out next to Highway 61. There were no other cars in the small lot, so she thought she would have a quiet and uneventful trek through the woods by herself - just how she liked it. She got out her daypack, locked up the truck, zipped the keys into the small pocket in the front of the backpack, then strapped it on. She breathed out, and it was so cold, she could see her breath. Better get moving. It's damn chilly out here! She walked along the side of the road for about a hundred yards, then when she came upon the wide path, turned uphill and strode off into the trees.

The incline was steep and would be for almost a mile, so she set a steady pace. She hadn't gone far before she was toasty warm. Her heavy hiking boots didn't dig much into the partially frozen trail, but she still had good traction.

December 16th... her thirtieth birthday. It had been several years since she had been alone - totally alone - on her birthday. She hadn't had a party for a while either. Most of the time she worked, and usually her work buddies gave her a bad time. Crystal and Cowboy could be counted on to give her gag gifts, and Luella usually cooked her something special, whatever her heart desired. When she got back to the cabin, she thought she had better call Luella or she knew her landlady would be upset with her. It had been two weeks since she'd left the note for Luella, and it was time to touch base.

She thought about calling Jaylynn, too. She didn't think she was ready. I am not going to call her and blubber on the phone. And blubber was what she was afraid she would do. She had grown more accustomed to the constant ache behind her breastbone, and there was no way she wanted that to blossom into something more painful than it already was. No, I'm not ready yet. And besides, it would be kind of tacky to call her on my birthday anyway - like I was expecting some response from her just because of that.

She reached the top of the long hill, and ahead of her was an enormous expanse of woods, sloping upwards in a gradual ascent. She stood and surveyed the beauty ahead of her, half of it dead and half still alive. The birch and poplar had lost their leaves. Their light colored trunks and branches stood in stark contrast to the leafless gray-brown oaks and the dark evergreens which dropped their needles steadily throughout the year. The wind whistled through the trees, and she heard the far-off cry of a hawk swooping low. She was totally alone, with only nature around her. Her throat constricted, and the tears welled up in her eyes.

She took another step forward and went on, tears streaming down her face.

* * *

Jaylynn awoke from a nightmare, her heart racing. She was wrapped up in the blankets and sheets, and for once she wasn't cold at all. She sat up, tossed the covers off and waited for her heart to return to its regular pace. She recalled quite clearly the giant monsters that had been chasing her, and she wondered, for maybe the millionth time, how she was ever going to get rid of the alien dreams. When she slept with someone - when she slept with Dez, that is - they weren't so bad.

But it had been exactly sixteen days since she had even seen Dez. She continued to try to get some sort of information out of people at work, but so far, no one knew anything except that the tall cop was on admin leave and she'd been sent to the shrink. There was a great deal of speculation, but no facts to back anything up. The sergeants and the lieutenant were close-mouthed, too, so nobody who had the actual facts would tell her anything.