This was good. This was very good. I decided to go in for the kill.

“And then,” I said, doing a very good imitation of sounding like I was crying, or at least, was pretty close to doing so, “she put her hand over my face to keep me from screaming, and one of her rings cut me and made my mouth all bloody.”

Oops. This one did not have the desired effect. I should probably not have brought up my bloody mouth, since instead of kissing me there, which was what I’d been aiming for, he pulled me away from him so he could look down into my face.

“Susannah, why didn’t you tell me any of this last night?” He looked genuinely baffled. “I asked you if something was wrong, and you never said a word.”

Hello? Hadn’t he heard anything I just said?

“Because.” I was speaking through gritted teeth, but you would have, too, if the man of your dreams was holding you in his arms and all he wanted to do was talk. And about his ex-girlfriend’s attempt to murder you, no less.

“It obviously has something to do with why you’re here,” I said. “Why you’re still here, I mean, in this house, and why you’ve been here so long. Jesse, don’t you see? If they find your body, that proves you were murdered, and that means Colonel Clemmings was right.”

Jesse’s bewilderment seemed to increase, rather than lessen, thanks to this explanation.

“Colonel who?” he said.

“Colonel Clemmings,” I said. “Author of My Monterey. His theory of why you disappeared is not that you got cold feet about marrying Maria and went off to San Francisco to stake a claim, but that that Diego guy killed you so he could marry Maria himself. And if they find your body, Jesse, that will prove you were murdered. And the most likely suspects are, of course, Maria and that Diego dude.”

But instead of being dazzled by my excellent sleuthing skills, Jesse asked in a shocked voice, “How do you know about him? About Diego?”

“I told you.” God, this was irritating. When were we going to get to the kissing? “It’s from a book Doc got out of the library. My Monterey, by Colonel Harold Clemmings.”

“But Doc—I mean, David—is at camp, I thought.”

I said frustratedly, “This was a long time ago. When I first got here. Last January.”

Jesse didn’t let go of me or anything, but he had an extremely odd look on his face.

“Are you saying that you’ve known about this …how I died…all along?”

“Yes,” I said, a little defensively. I was getting the feeling that maybe he thought I’d done something wrong, prying into his death. “But, Jesse, that’s my job. That’s what mediators do. I can’t help it.”

“Why did you keep asking me about how I died, then,” he demanded, “if you already knew?”

I said, still on the defensive side, “Well, I didn’t know. Not for sure. I still don’t. But Jesse—” I wanted to make sure he understood this part, so I pulled back (and he unfortunately let go of me, but what could I do?) and sat up on my heels and said, very slowly and carefully, “If they find your body out there, not only is Maria going to be really mad, but you…you’re going to move on. You know? From here. Because that’s what’s been holding you back, Jesse. The mystery of what happened to you. Once your body is found, though, that mystery will be solved. And you’ll go. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you, you see? Because I don’t want you to go. Because I l—”

Oh my God, I almost said it. I can’t even tell you how close I came to saying it. I got out the L and then the O just seemed to follow.

But at the last minute I was able to save it. I turned it to “—like having you around and I would really hate not seeing you anymore.”

Swift, huh? That was a close one.

Because one thing I know for sure about guys, along with their inability to use a glass and lower the toilet seat and refill ice trays once they are empty: They really cannot handle the L word. I mean, it says so in just about every article I’ve ever read.

And you have to figure this is true of all guys, even guys who were born a hundred and fifty years ago.

And I guess my not using the L word paid off, since Jesse reached out and touched my cheek with his fingertips—just like he had done that day in the hospital.

“Susannah,” he said. “Finding my body is not going to change anything.”

“Um,” I said. “Excuse me, Jesse, but I think I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been a mediator for sixteen years.”

“Susannah,” he said. “I have been dead for a hundred and fifty years. I think I know what I am talking about. And I can assure you, this mystery about my death you speak of…that is not why I, as you put it, am hanging around here.”

A funny thing happened then. Just like in Clive Clemmings’s office, earlier that day, I just started crying. Really. Just like that.

Oh, I wasn’t sobbing like a baby or anything, but my eyes filled up with tears and I got that bad prickly feeling behind my nose, and my throat started to hurt. It was weird, because I’d just, you know, been trying to act as if I were crying, and then all of a sudden, I really was.

“Jesse,” I said in this horrible sniffly kind of voice (acting like you’re going to cry is way preferable to actually crying, as there is much less mucus involved), “I’m sorry, but that’s just not possible. I mean, I know. I’ve done this a hundred times. When they find your body out there, that is it. You’re gone.”

“Susannah,” he said again. And this time he didn’t just touch my cheek. He reached up and cupped the side of my face with one hand…

Although the romantic effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was half laughing at me. To give him credit, though, he looked as if he were trying just as hard not to laugh as I was trying not to cry.

“I promise you, Susannah,” he said with a lot of pauses between the words to give them emphasis, “that I am not going anywhere, whether or not your stepfather finds my body in the backyard. All right?”

I didn’t believe him, of course. I wanted to and all, but the truth is, he didn’t know what he was talking about.

What could I do, though? I had no choice but to be brave about it. I mean, I couldn’t very well just sit there and cry my eyes out over it. What kind of fool would I seem then?