I literally threw up my hands in exasperation. “Okay, so what do we do then? You don’t want me doing a regression, and I don’t want you doing one either. So where does that leave us?”
“Okay, like I said, I don’t really know that much about all this,” Constance started in again. “Just what I’ve seen you do here and there, and, well… It’s usually pretty freaking bizarre to be honest… But, that’s beside the point. Anyway, here’s my idea. What if you still did it, but in a controlled manner?”
“What do you mean by controlled?” I asked.
“Yeah, Mandalay,” Ben voiced. “I think I know where you’re headin’ with this.”
“I mean what if you, or Felicity, or even both of you underwent hypnosis by a third party. That way if it gets too weird then you could be snapped out of it right away.”
“That’s a thought,” Felicity said.
Constance shrugged. “We sometimes use various forms of forensic hypnosis with witnesses to help jog repressed or misplaced memories, so why not with you two?”
“She’s right,” Ben added. “Charlee McLaughlin was tellin’ me she used it with a rape victim a few months back. What they got from her was inadmissible in court, but it gave ‘em enough to get a decent lead on the asshole. After that, all they had to do was gather evidence.”
“The rules of evidence are pretty dicey when it comes to information retrieved via hypnosis,” Constance agreed. “But we aren’t after that in this case. We’re just looking for a location on Larson’s remains.”
“I’m not sure it would work.” I shook my head. “Since the experiences were ethereal to begin with, for all intents and purposes, they took place on another plane of existence.”
“But wouldn’t the memories still be there?” she asked. “Just inaccessible to the conscious self.”
“That’s the unknown variable here,” I replied.
“But, they could be there, right?” she reiterated.
I pondered the question for a moment. I’d never really given the idea much thought, until now.
“She might have a point, Row.” Felicity broke the short silence. “You’ve always retained memories from psychic episodes before.”
“Yeah,” I replied slowly. “That’s true.”
“Aye, so it’s worth a try at least,” Felicity said.
Mandalay glanced at her watch and looked thoughtful for a second then said, “I can make a couple of calls. I’m not sure if we have anyone available on this short of notice though. It may have to wait until tomorrow or even Monday.”
“But wouldn’t there be a better chance of any latent evidence still being intact if the scene is located sooner?” I asked.
“Of course,” Ben answered for her. “Fresher the crime scene the better. That’s a given.”
“Then we need to do this now,” I declared.
“Like I said,” Constance offered. “I can make some calls.”
“I’ll go you one better,” I said as a vague memory edged into focus. “Ben, your sister performs hypnosis in her psychiatric practice, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, I think she does,” he replied with a nod.
“Do you think she’d be up for this tonight?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Hell, she never does anything other than work or sit at home reading, so I don’t see why not. One question though.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Actually it’s for Mandalay,” he replied as he looked over at her. “Say one of these two Twilight Zone’s us a crime scene. What’s the next step?”
Constance wrinkled her forehead and gave a knowing nod. “Guess we’ll have to go verify it.”
“And after that?” Ben pressed. “Which one of us is gonna tell Albright how we found it?”
“As much as I’d like to do it,” she told him. “I’d sure hate to steal your thunder, Storm.”
“Yeah, funny. Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
As it turned out, my friend had been incorrect this go around. His sister had in fact been out to dinner and not holed away in her house reading as he had said she would be. We were lucky, however, as her home number had been forwarded to her service and no sooner had Ben left a message than she called back. Fortunately, not only was she more than willing to come by the house, she was less than fifteen minutes away.
When Helen arrived, Felicity was in the kitchen starting a fresh pot of coffee, and Constance was hiding away in our bedroom for a few minutes so she could return some calls. Ben was expectantly standing at the open door when she pulled into the driveway. He met her on the sidewalk and immediately renewed the brotherly interrogation he’d originally launched on the phone.
Now that they were in the house, I was standing back and quietly watching the continuation of the small family skirmish that was taking place in my living room.
“I am a grown woman, Benjamin.” Helen Storm looked up into her brother’s face. Her voice was calm, but the words were underscored with an unmistakable note of no-nonsense finality. “Not to mention that I am your older sister. I can certainly go out on a blind date without your approval.”
There was no way one could miss the relationship between the two of them. The family resemblance was more than obvious even though Helen was of average height as opposed to her towering sibling. Both were possessed of the same dark eyes and typical angular profiles. Although in most ways they were the same, Helen’s features were far softer. Her pretty face was framed by a cascade of thick, black hair, streaked randomly with strands of grey. The touch of silver was the only visible indicator that she was actually older than her brother.
Having been in some sense a patient of hers, in both official and unofficial capacities, I was used to seeing her in conservative business attire. This evening, however, she was projecting a vastly different outward image via a somewhat flirtatious cocktail dress.
“That’s not what I’m sayin’, Helen,” my friend objected. “There’re a lotta nutjobs out… And that dress is…”
“My dress is just fine, dear brother,” she replied in the wake of his stammering. “And, I met him at the restaurant so that I would have my own car. I am quite capable of making rational decisions.”
“Yeah, but what’d you know about this guy?” he continued. “For all you know he’s a wingnut with a…”
“End of discussion, Benjamin,” she replied, cutting him off mid-sentence.
He stared back at her and shook his head but kept his mouth shut.
“I’m sorry we interrupted your evening, Helen,” I offered, slipping the apology into the mildly uncomfortable void that fell behind her last declaration.
“Don’t worry over it, Rowan,” she replied as she cast a pleasant smile toward me. “Benjamin sometimes forgets that I do in fact have a social life. The truth is, I was actually considering a trip to the ladies room just so I could page myself. I needed an escape, so as it turns out, your call was serendipitous.”
“Escape?” Ben asked.
“He was boring me to tears, Benjamin,” she said as she turned back to him. “That’s all, nothing more. Stop imagining the worst, please.” She cocked her head to the side and gave him a curious stare. “You have been drinking haven’t you?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It would certainly explain your mood this evening,” she replied. “You are even more overprotective than usual.”
“So sue me.”
“And would I happen to know what prompted this little binge?” she pressed.
He brushed off the question. “It’s not important.”
“Yes, I thought as much,” she replied with an understanding nod, gleaning untold information from his evasive words. “We should discuss that later. At the moment, however, I seem to recall something being said about a murder investigation and the need for a hypnotist. Well, here I am.”
CHAPTER 17:
The flame on the candle reached upward, stretching into a thin tongue as it licked at the air. It undulated in an ever-increasing rhythm until it seemed to almost vibrate then it began to die back downward. I watched intently as the threadlike wisp collapsed into itself to finally become a flickering teardrop of yellow-orange that cast a soft glow into the dimness of the room.