Ghost Peppers Chapter 7

A rookie detective's first case continues.

Chapter 7

May 12th

Jackie’s memory drifted back to 2010, when she’d first encountered the McCormick family in her early days as a family therapist. Jackie, just 22 at the time was fresh out of college and working for a well-known therapist in the area. The family sessions had started out tense and heavy, with Peter McCormick, the patriarch, commanding every conversation. Peter was an imposing man with a cold, steely gaze that seemed to make his daughter, Tiffany, shrink each time he spoke.

Jackie remembered her first session with them vividly. They were seated around her office, the McCormick’s’ differing postures telling a story all their own. Peter sat upright, legs spread, one arm draped over the back of the chair as if staking his territory, while Sylvia, his wife, seemed small and quiet, often casting anxious glances at her husband, avoiding eye contact. Frank, tall and sturdy, glanced at Tiffany protectively, but his gaze would inevitably drop, his shoulders caving in each time Peter looked his way. Tiffany, on the other hand, was almost visibly retreating, her arms folded protectively over her midsection, her eyes a mix of fear and resentment.

“So, Peter, why don’t you tell me what brings you all here today?” Jackie prompted, keeping her tone even, her eyes gently encouraging Tiffany to look up.

“It’s these two,” Peter barked, gesturing with a disdainful nod at his children. “They don’t respect me. This one”, he pointed a finger at Tiffany, “never listens to a thing I say. Thinks she knows better. And he”, Peter’s gaze fixed on Frank, “tries to defend her when she’s wrong. That isn’t how things are going to work in my house.”

Jackie nodded thoughtfully, sensing the tension simmering beneath Peter’s words. “And how do you feel about that, Tiffany?”

For a moment, Tiffany looked frozen, but then she straightened slightly, glancing at Jackie with a glimmer of defiance.

“I don’t feel like I ever do anything right around him. No matter what I say or do, he just,” she paused, “he’s always angry. I can’t be, perfect,” she whispered, her voice shaky but defiant.

Peter leaned forward, his face twisted with anger. “See what I mean? The attitude, she’s always talking back.”

Jackie maintained a calm expression. “Peter, I know you want the best for your family, and that’s why you’re here. But maybe it’s worth considering how these words might feel to Tiffany.”

Peter huffed, crossing his arms. “I don’t need a lecture on how to handle my own children, Ms. Connors.”

She took a steadying breath, keeping her tone respectful. “I understand. But part of working together here means finding a space where everyone feels they can express their feelings safely, without fear of being put down. Frank, do you want to share anything about how this affects you?”

Frank’s gaze flicked nervously between his father and Tiffany, his face a mask of conflict. “I just, I don’t like seeing him treat Tiff like that. It’s not fair. She’s not doing anything wrong.”

Peter’s hand clenched into a fist. “You think you’re helping her by stepping in? You’re just making things worse. She needs discipline, not your soft-hearted nonsense.”

As the conversation unfolded, Jackie could feel the strain on Tiffany and Frank, each one wilting under Peter’s presence. She had gently shifted the conversation, trying to help Peter see the impact of his words, but his responses stayed defensive, sharp.

Over the months that followed, Jackie continued to work with the McCormick’s, slowly helping Tiffany find her voice and Frank gain some confidence in supporting his sister. Though Peter’s resistance remained, Jackie saw small victories in Tiffany’s growing resilience, as well as her quiet gratitude for the kindness Jackie had shown.

Years Later, The Front Porch Meeting

Jackie’s thoughts wandered forward to her 24th birthday. She had received an unexpected message from Tiffany, asking if they could meet. She hesitated at first, uncertain of what it would bring, but eventually agreed. They’d met at The Front Porch, the familiar Ogunquit bar.

As Jackie sat at a corner table in The Front Porch, she spotted Tiffany entering, her silhouette framed by the warm glow of the bar’s lights. Tiffany’s transformation was striking; her tailored dress hugged her figure, hinting at a confidence Jackie hadn’t quite seen before. With her head held high and a calm, almost seductive smile, Tiffany moved with an air of self-assurance that caught Jackie slightly off-guard. As Tiffany drew closer, Jackie could feel the sexual tension settling between them, unspoken yet undeniably present.

When Tiffany finally sat across from her, Jackie couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of allure in her former client’s gaze, a boldness that seemed almost intended to unnerve her. They exchanged pleasantries, but there was an intensity in Tiffany’s eyes that spoke louder than words, and as Jackie listened, she found herself unexpectedly captivated by the maturity and grace with which Tiffany now carried herself. It was in the quiet, confident way she leaned forward, fingers grazing the edge of her glass, as if savoring the effect she had on Jackie.

“Jackie,” Tiffany began, her voice low and steady, almost a whisper that reached across the small space between them. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while now. I know what I feel for you, it’s not just admiration. I’m in love with you.” Her words hung in the air, enveloping them in a kind of stillness.

The admission, so raw and unrestrained, sent a shiver down Jackie’s spine, a mix of surprise and vulnerability she hadn’t anticipated. Tiffany’s gaze never wavered, holding Jackie’s with an openness and warmth that stirred something unbidden within her. For a brief, fleeting moment, Jackie felt her own heartbeat quicken, her breath catching as if she could sense the weight of all those years of longing, now laid bare before her.

But Jackie knew she had to stay grounded, to uphold the boundaries she’d set for herself. She took a deep, steadying breath and offered Tiffany a gentle, compassionate smile. “Tiffany, you’re an incredible person, and I’m so proud of who you’ve become,” she said, her voice soft yet resolute. “But you know this isn’t something I can pursue. We have a history,” she paused, “one that comes with boundaries I have to honor.”

The flicker of hurt in Tiffany’s expression was unmistakable, though she quickly masked it with a calm nod. “I understand,” she replied, though her tone held a hint of frustration. She looked away for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass before her gaze returned to Jackie, sharp and probing. “But I can’t shake the feeling, Jackie. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

The challenge in her words echoed across the table, and Jackie felt a warm flush rise, unsettled yet undeniably moved by Tiffany’s quiet confidence. She shook her head gently. “It’s not about what I feel. It’s about respecting the line we drew, for both our sakes.”

Tiffany gave a small, rueful smile. “If it weren’t for her, though, Penelope. I can tell she’s who you want.”

The mention of Penelope pierced through the moment, grounding Jackie back to her present reality. She felt a rush of clarity but also a stab of something unspoken, something she herself had never fully put into words. Looking into Tiffany’s eyes, Jackie reached across the table, offering a gentle, reassuring touch on her hand.

“Tiffany, I care about you deeply,” Jackie said, her voice tender yet unwavering. “But sometimes caring means knowing when to keep distance.”

But Tiffany didn’t look away. Her gaze intensified, a flicker of resentment sparking in her eyes. “Distance?” she echoed, her voice thick with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. “Or is this really about Penelope?”

Jackie felt that stabbing feeling once again at the mention of Penelope’s name, but kept her composure, her silence confirming the boundaries she needed to uphold.

Tiffany shook her head, lips pressed together as if swallowing back her anger. “You’ll regret this, Jackie. This rejection, it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life,” she murmured, voice low and almost prophetic. There was a heaviness in her words, an underlying desperation that made Jackie’s chest tighten.

She held Jackie’s gaze a moment longer, eyes shimmering with raw emotion before she stood abruptly, her chair scraping back as she left the table without another word. Jackie watched her walk away, feeling a faint, uneasy ache, an unsettling hint that this parting was not the end.

In the present, Jackie shivered as she recalled the haunting memory of Tiffany’s eventual suicide. A pain of sorrow and regret washed over her, a reminder of how deeply unhealed wounds could linger in the heart. She immediately called Penny.

Jackie glanced at her phone after ending the call with Penny, a faint smile replacing the sadness that had clouded her thoughts. She needed this, needed Penny’s warmth and the easy connection they shared. She arrived at Victoria’s Secret with the familiar, thrilling awareness of what would follow, and as she waited, the anticipation became its own kind of comfort.

When Penny joined her, she immediately sensed the unspoken tension. Her eyes sparkled as they exchanged a knowing look. Penny trailed her fingers over a rack of lingerie before pulling out a light pink bra and matching panties, holding them up for Jackie’s appraisal. Jackie’s gaze lingered as Penny took in her silent approval, and a playful spark crossed her face.

“I think these might be the ones,” Penny said, her voice a bit lower, her eyes locked with Jackie’s. She turned, disappearing into the dressing room, and Jackie’s heart skipped as she watched her go. Penny knew exactly what she was doing, she always did.

A few moments later, a soft call came from the other side of the door. “Jackie?”

Jackie stepped inside, and her breath stopped as she took in the sight. Penny stood in the delicate pink lingerie, the soft fabric against her skin emphasizing the curve of her waist and the strength in her posture. She leaned against the wall, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, her eyes reflecting a daring invitation.

“Well?” Penny asked, her voice soft but full of playful challenge.

Jackie held her gaze, stepping closer until she could feel the warmth between them. “Perfect,” she murmured, her voice smooth yet laced with restrained desire. Her fingers brushed Penny’s shoulder, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. “But you knew that already.”

Penny’s cheeks flushed, and she gave a slight nod, the confidence of her stance faltering just enough to reveal her own thrill. They stood in silence, the air thick with unspoken promises, before Jackie pulled back, steadying herself. With a small smile, she gestured for Penny to change, the restraint only deepening her own sense of control.

Outside, Jackie waited at the counter, her heart still racing as she paid for the set, savoring the quiet but powerful satisfaction that lingered. This was the balance they shared, the dance of connection and boundaries that only they could understand.

* * *

His eyes scanned the screen, his heart pounding as he read the words in front of him, each line digging deeper, cutting sharper, unraveling the fragile threads of his self-control.

Pathetic. That’s what you are. You’ve always been a disappointment, a nobody. It’s no wonder she’s in the arms of someone else. Not just someone else, but a woman. A woman who’s doing everything you never could, giving her everything you never will.

He felt his throat tighten, his hand trembling slightly as he scrolled down, unable to stop himself from absorbing each cruel line.

She sees you for what you really are. She knows, she remembers all those times you watched her, thinking nobody noticed. All those pathetic little peeks snapping pictures. She knew. And now, every time she’s with her lover, she’s laughing at you. Laughing at the sick, perverted things you thought you got away with.

His face burned with shame, as though the words had a voice—a low, sneering whisper that echoed in his mind, as if mocking him right in his own room. His heart pounded, guilt and anger swirling together in a storm that left him both enraged and horrified.

But you can make up for it. You can show them all that you’re more than they think. You’re part of something now. This is your chance to make a difference. You know what to do, don’t you? Do it exactly like before, like the Peppers, the Carters. Make them pay for what they did to you, for how they looked down on you. Make them pay so that Penelope doesn’t end up like your sister.

His gaze blurred as he read the next part, instructions given with cold precision. A location, a name, the details of where he’d find the next package. It was all laid out for him, just as it had been before.

Pick up the materials at the same spot. Same setup as the Carters. Remember, you’re fixing what needs to be fixed. You’re not just helping yourself. You’re helping us all.

In his gut, he felt a flicker of validation, an unsettling sense of purpose that had eluded him for so long. He was part of something bigger, a cause. No more standing in the shadows. This was his path to redemption. Each name, each location, had a purpose.