She had no idea how long she had been falling - it could have been seconds, it could have been hours - but when the number four appeared in her mind, she yanked the cord with a white-knuckled grip. The immediate buoy took her breath away, and for the first time, Jennifer opened her eyes to survey her situation. The green mountainside blanketed the ground beneath her, and she suddenly panicked thinking she would come crashing through the trees. She was relieved to see that her parachute was carrying her directly into a clearing about five hundred yards away. Floating downward, she glanced to her left and noticed smoke billowing into the air. Jennifer landed promptly on her feet, but the fear that had gripped her made her knees weak and she collapsed onto the ground. She inhaled the clean, pungent earth beneath her and dug her fingernails into the grassy soil. Her senses exploded in a joyous rhapsody, knowing she had survived the airborne nightmare of the last hour.
Jonathan sat in the back seat of the State Police car, leaning forward with his forehead propped against the officer's seat. The noise of the blaring siren was merely a muted din in his ears. He tried to lift his head, but could not seem to fight the weight that had settled onto his neck and shoulders. Somewhere deep inside, he knew he was crying, but he couldn't find that place inside himself, and perhaps he was running away from it anyway. No, he would not go there: He could not.
The officers finally pulled into a clearing by the side of the highway, followed by a fire engine and emergency crew. As if watching himself from above, Jonathan got out of the squad car and began running into the thick woods. The trees around him became a green blur as he threw branches aside in his pursuit to reach the plane. He could smell the engine smoke drawing closer and closer, and with each breath he took, Jonathan could feel his gut searing with the pain of knowing he would have to see the wreckage.
"It's over here!" Officer Paulson shouted to Jonathan's left. Jonathan stopped to catch his breath and then followed the crew. Soon they reached the smoldering remains of Cole Jackson's twin engine.
Jonathan stood fifty yards from the wreckage, his legs unable to carry him any further. The smoke had all but cleared leaving the twisted gray plane lying in a crumpled ball of metal. Debris lay scattered over the area like toys in a child's playroom. Emergency crew began tearing away the metal in hopes of finding survivors, yet knowing that surviving this wreckage would have been impossible. Jonathan sat down against a large rock, his head in his hands, and waited.
Jennifer stood up finally and unfastened the parachute that had saved her life. She looked up and saw the last trail of smoke rise above the treetops. Maybe Cole survived, she thought, although instinctively she knew that he had ended his misery…for good. Still, she felt compelled to find the wreckage - to validate the terror she had endured. She began running eastward, remembering where she had seen the impact as she had drifted down out of the sky. Her legs carried her swiftly, and before she knew it, she could hear the sounds of the emergency crew at the scene. Out of breath, she finally came into full view of the wreckage. Overwhelmed, she bowed her head in sorrow and grief.
Jonathan stood up and looked at the figure that had emerged from the other side of the woods. He took a few steps in that direction, trying to focus. His legs began moving faster, his heart pounding, hoping and praying that what he was seeing was not a dream, not a mirage, not a mistake.
"Jennifer?!" he finally called out, his voice not sounding like his own.
Jennifer looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could hear her name, but did not recognize the voice and couldn't make out the source through her tears. Slowly, the figure became familiar.
Seeing Jonathan seemed to give her body permission to collapse in emotion. Just as she was ready to fall to the ground, Jonathan reached out to catch her in his arms. With a strong embrace, he brought her down to the ground and cradled her. She sobbed softly into his chest, as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.
"I thought you went down in that plane," he said, choking on the words.
"I almost did," she sobbed quietly.
Katherine opened her office window, letting the cool October air rush in. Her cold, calculating mind reviewed the conversation she had had with Jonathan. She knew he was going after Cole, but it would be too late. She listened to the distant sounds of sirens making their way up towards Carter's Ridge, and she smiled to herself knowing that Jennifer Hart would no longer be in the way. True, Jonathan suspected her, but she could easily blame it on Cole and his psychiatric problems. There would be no way he could trace her involvement in this plan. She had even taken care of the water bottles herself. She knew how to play her cards, and she most definitely knew that, in time, she could make Jonathan love her.
Derby Canfield finished the last of his kitchen duties and slowly took off his apron. Glancing up at the large clock above the doorway, he realized that Jennifer Hart was not coming. He had tried not to think about it all day, but the plain fact was that he was most eager to talk about Gloria. Ever since the Harts had come to the Wallingford, Gloria's memory had taken on new dimensions. When they had stumbled upon the letter-opener that he had given Gloria, old wounds that he thought had healed, opened all over again. Maybe Jennifer Hart would be able to unlock the mystery of Gloria's death. Derby certainly hoped so. He knew his time was nearing an end.
Katherine closed the blinds to her office and began to collect her keys and handbag. It was five o'clock and the sun was beginning to set. She decided that she would head out early. Perhaps she would stop for a drink to celebrate, she mused. Suddenly, there was a hard knock at the door.
"Come in," she said cheerfully.
The door opened slowly and Jonathan walked in, a cold stare in his eyes.
"Jonathan," Katherine said smoothly, unsure if he had received the news of his wife's demise. "I was just heading home. Would you care to join me in the lounge for a drink? I really want to clear up any misunderstandings we might have."
Jonathan continued to stare at her. The sight of her sickened him, but he had to carry this out.
"Jonathan, please tell me that you're not serious about what you said earlier. You know I would never do anything to make yours or Jennifer's stay here unpleasant," Katherine continued, noting the anger in Jonathan's eyes. She nervously shut her desk drawer and took her keys in hand.
Jonathan finally cleared the disgust from his throat and spoke. "Why did you do it?" he asked.
"Do what?" she answered, her voice lilting.
"Murder my wife."
"What do you mean?' she said, acting astonished.
"You sent Cole Jackson to do your dirty work. You wanted Jennifer dead, so you made him do it."
"I don't know what you're talking about. What's all this nonsense about Jennifer being dead?"
"Poor Cole…he was just a pawn, wasn't he? You used him to get what you want. You wanted Jennifer dead."
"Jonathan," Katherine said hastily, wanting to leave, "I don't know what you're talking about. Jennifer's not dead." A half-smile crossed her face.
Suddenly, Jennifer appeared from around the corner. She stood in the middle of the doorway, her arms folded on her chest. "No, I'm not dead, Katherine."
Katherine's mouth dropped open. She could not hide her shock at seeing Jennifer standing before her. Cole had failed at his mission, and she would see to it that he would pay for it.
"Hello, Jennifer," Katherine said plainly, finally composing herself. "I need to leave now. I don't know what this is all about, but maybe we can talk about it tomorrow."
"No, Katherine, we'll talk about it now," Jonathan said forcefully. "Because Cole Jackson is dead. He went down in his plane, and he saved Jennifer's life. It wasn't quite the way you had planned it, was it?"
Katherine stopped in her tracks and looked Jonathan in the eye, searching for evidence that he was lying. She did not like what she saw. "Cole is dead?"
"Yes, Katherine, he was so conflicted about what you wanted him to do, and he was so ashamed about his past, that he saw no other way out," Jennifer picked up. "He crashed his plane into the side of the mountain," she said, her voice quivering with emotion, "but before he did, he did two things…he gave me his parachute so that I would live, and…" Jennifer paused and looked Katherine directly in the eye. "And, he gave me a tape," she said, pulling a cassette from her pocket, "explaining how you've controlled him all these years…and your plan to kill me."
Katherine stared at the tape, her face flushed. Finally, she smiled, threw her head back and laughed. Jonathan clenched his jaw and waited with every ounce of patience he could muster.
"Very good, Jennifer!" Katherine said, relaxing. "Cole Jackson was such a pathetic creature. It was so easy to get him to do anything…he never did get over that ridiculous girl from high school. He actually thought it was his fault that she died. Ha! And then he went away to war and when he came back he was over-wrought with guilt - guilt about that girl, guilt about his buddies that got killed in the war, guilt about everything. He was addicted to so many drugs. He was easy to manipulate."
"And you used that guilt to carry out some twisted scheme to get to Jonathan?" Jennifer probed. "By having him try to murder me?"
Katherine smiled cunningly. "And it almost worked, didn't it?" Katherine said, "I don't care what Cole said on that tape. He was a drug-addicted Vietnam Vet…and all it comes down to is your word against mine. You have no proof that I've done anything."
Jonathan took a step toward Katherine, waiting for this very moment. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket, pulled out a tape recorder, and stopped recording.
"Oh, I think we do," he said, as two police officers stepped in from behind the door.
"Jonathan! Jennifer!" Carol exclaimed, as she saw them enter her hospital room. "I can't believe you're here, after the day you had yesterday. George and I saw it all on the local news. You had a close call, Jennifer."
Jennifer sat at the foot of Carol's bed. She was pleasantly surprised to see how well Carol looked - the bruises on her face were fading and she was getting the color back in her cheeks.
"I guess we've both had close calls," Jennifer said, smiling warmly. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing much better. George and the boys have been keeping me company. I think I'm going to be able to leave here this weekend. I can't wait to go home."
"We can't either," Jonathan said, looking at Jennifer. "We just have a few loose ends to tie up, and then we're heading back."
"Jonathan, do you mind if I speak privately with Jennifer for just a few minutes?" Carol asked.
Jonathan grinned. "Not at all. I'll go grab some coffee while you two share some girl talk," he said and walked out, closing the door behind him.
Jennifer got up and pulled a chair close to Carol's bedside. She leaned in and looked at Carol directly, wondering what she might want to discuss. Although she had never been a close friend of Carol's, the events of the past week had made her feel closer to her. Certainly, seeing her so vulnerable and witnessing the incredible transformation in George had given Jennifer an intimate look at the Stinsons. It gave her an appreciation of their love for one another.
"Jennifer," Carol began, "I wanted to get this chance to say a few things that have been on my mind." She cleared her throat, and took a deep breath. "First of all, I wanted to say thank you - to both you and Jonathan for standing by me and giving George the support he needed. George told me how helpful you both were."
Jennifer smiled graciously. "We were very concerned about you. We would have done anything for you and George…and the boys."
Carol nodded appreciatively. "I also wanted to say that I'm sorry," she said lowering her voice.
"Sorry…for what?" Jennifer said, a quizzical look on her face.
"Well," she said, drawing in a breath, "for a long time I've had the wrong impression about you. I always thought you must be so selfish, so self-absorbed…and I was wrong."
"Why did you think that?" Jennifer asked, concerned.
Carol smiled weakly and sighed. "Because you are so beautiful and so smart and so wealthy. You married the perfect man. I guess I wanted to believe that you must be unworthy of all that…but you aren't. I suppose there are a lot of women who are jealous of you," Carol said, gently.
Jennifer's face saddened, the outside corners of her eyes turning downward in quiet reflection. Smiling wistfully, she said, "Beauty is only skin deep, and the rest I've worked hard for."
"I believe you. Still, it's hard for women like me who will never look like you and never have the good fortune you have. Not to mention the perfect relationship you have with Jonathan - it's so perfect, it doesn't seem real," Carol said.
"It's real," Jennifer laughed, "but it's always a work in progress. We don't just sit around making eyes at each other all day."
"Jennifer, tell me honestly, would you still love Jonathan as much if he were a poor man?"
Jennifer paused and reflected on the question, not giving Carol the automatic "Of course!" that she had expected. Carol watched and waited, interested in what Jennifer would say. After several seconds, Jennifer flashed a smile. "Well, I'd have to make some adjustments in my lifestyle," she laughed, "but, in all honesty, I would love him with or without his money." Carol knew she meant it.
Carol smiled at Jennifer, thinking about her relationship with George. "Jennifer, do you think things happen for a reason?"
Jennifer smiled back and squeezed Carol's hand. "Yes, I do."
Derby sat in his favorite armchair, mulling over the events of the past two days. He still could not believe that Miss Belleveau had been arrested and charged with attempted murder. Not since the summer of 1944 had something so horrific happen in their quiet town. And it was precisely for this reason that Derby had been awoken by vivid dreams of Gloria. Each night it was the same dream - she was standing on the mountainside calling his name. He tried to run to her, but didn't know in which direction to run.
Derby heard the creaking of the door, as Charles entered the small livingroom. His brother usually visited on Saturdays, and he was eager to talk to him about all of the happenings at the Wallingford.
"Well, Derb, it's been quite a week, hasn't it?" Charles said, sitting down on the worn sofa. It was the same place that he sat every Saturday and the cushion conformed easily to his large form. "Miss Belleveau seemed like such a nice person. I still can't believe it."
Derby shook his head. "I know. And poor Mr. Jackson. He seemed like such a good fellow - always helping people out. I heard that Mrs. Jackson is having a real hard time."
Charles was just about to speak when they heard a knock at the door. "Are you expecting anyone?" Charles asked. Derby shook his head and walked to the door. His heart quickened when he saw Jonathan and Jennifer Hart on his doorstep.
"Come on in," Derby said, making sure his shirt was tucked in neatly.
The Harts stepped in and Jennifer offered him a box of fresh pastries. He was taken by her youthful good looks - her lovely smile, her auburn hair, and a certain glow that he had seen in very few people in his eighty-seven years. Derby was amazed that this was the same woman who had survived the ordeal he had been hearing about on the news.
"I hope you don't mind us dropping in on you like this," Jennifer offered, as Charles came into the kitchen.
"Not at all, Mrs. Hart. Can I get you some tea?" Derby said politely. Charles stood nervously by the doorway. Jonathan grinned at him and said hello.
"I was just leaving," Charles announced.
"Oh, no, please stay," Jennifer pleaded.
Derby looked at Charles. "Stay, Charles," he said firmly.
