The Sweet Caress by Roberta Latow

Mandarin, he began to recite poetry to her. They were interrupted by the doorbell.
    Jessica ushered the sheriff into the drawing room and introduced her to Tom Salinger.
    ‘The Chinese scholar. Why am I not surprised to meet you here, Mr Salinger?’ said Bridget Copley.
    ‘Ah, you’ve heard that I speak Mandarin,’ commented Jessica.
    ‘That’s an important clue, Jessica. I think it rather odd you didn’t find time to come in and tell me about it. How many missing American women do you think speak Mandarin?’
    ‘Well, what can you do with that?’
    ‘Fax Interpol and add the information to your missing persons sheet. Hong Kong, mainland China, Malaysia, it widens the search.’
    ‘Then you had better add all the French-speaking countries as well. We’ve just discovered I’m fluent in French.’
    Tom could see that the sheriff was annoyed with Jessica and decided it was time to leave. ‘Come and see me at the college library tomorrow, Jessica, three o’clock.’ Turning to Bridget, he said, ‘Miss Johnson is masterful in Mandarin, Sheriff, and I have asked her to come and work on a project with me. She has accepted. Do I have to clear it with you?’
    ‘Certainly not. She’s free to do as she pleases. If I have given any impression that she is not, I would like to correctthat now.’ The sheriff seemed embarrassed, and so she should be, thought Jessica.
    After seeing Tom out, Jessica returned to the drawing room with a pot of freshly made China tea. She was hardly through the door when Bridget spoke up.
    ‘Look, Jessica, if I sounded like a storm trooper when I came in, I’m sorry. But my office is coming up with blanks from everywhere regarding your identity and I find it very frustrating. The calm with which you are taking this loss of memory makes me feel as if you don’t give a damn about recovery. Frankly, you have contributed fuck all to help me in my investigations, and that is irritating, the more so because I like you and I want to see the mystery surrounding you cleared up. We’ll keep trying to find your past for you but I hold little hope that it will be soon, if ever. However, there is some good news. The two hundred thousand dollars cannot be traced. We have received no word to suggest the money is not yours. You can have it any time you like. Tomorrow?’
    ‘Bridget.’
    ‘No, don’t say anything if it’s a thank you or to tell me I had no right to put you through what I have done about the money. I know it has inconvenienced you to be without it, but I had a duty to perform investigating that money. Now it’s over. The money is yours and, for the record, I always thought it was.’
    ‘What I was going to say, Bridget, was I hope I never disappoint you. Without your help and support I would not have had the strength to look forward, plod on, and settle so easily here in Newbampton. Ever since Cissie found me, I’ve had the attitude that what will be will be. I don’t think you quite understand that and if you do, I sense that that sort of fatalistic way of thinking doesn’t sit well with you.’
    ‘Let’s not get into philosophising, Jessica,’ said Bridget drily. She rose from her chair by the fire and handed her empty teacup to Jessica. ‘You’re a wealthy lady, Jessica, anda likeable woman. I think you’ve brought yourself out of a dark past and into a better place than you’ve ever been. Let’s just leave it at that and be friends,’ and she offered her hand.
    ‘I’d like that,’ said Jessica who, instead of shaking Bridget’s hand, squeezed it and placed it on her cheek.
    A blush came to the sheriff’s face. No woman had ever done such a thing to her, not even her own children. Bridget looked at Jessica and for the first time really saw the beautiful, exotic and sensuous woman she was. She suddenly felt quite old, her life set in concrete, whereas Jessica Johnson had a whole new life to create for herself. She was courageous in her lust for life, something the