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33
Dr. Emanuel Hicks’s Office
Jefferson Dormitory
Quantico
SATURDAY
Kirra stared around Dr. Hicks’s office, with its pale green walls and three colorful throw rugs on the wooden floor. There were two framed photos on a small antique desk in the corner. In one he was dressed like Elvis and he was hugging two young women who had something of the look of him, probably his daughters, all of them smiling wildly. In the second he was smiling down at a petite blond woman. His wife? There were three chairs in the room, and a large green nubby lounger. Probably for me, she thought. A tall thin man with glasses and a head full of dark hair with dashes of white at his temples came forward.
Dr. Hicks smiled at the lovely young woman who looked like she wanted to bolt. Agent Hammersmith had told him Kirra Mandarian was wary of hypnosis—no surprise since her mother had been adamantly against it—but now she wanted to remember, had to remember what she’d obviously suppressed from that night. He held out his hand. “I’m Dr. Hicks and I swear on the head of my always-hungry beagle hypnosis is harmless. Griffin told me you realized you had to remember more of the night your parents were killed. I believe hypnosis will help you do that.” He saw a mix of dread and hope in her eyes, an unusual shade of green. She wore highlights in her dark brown hair, like his daughter Ellie did, pulled back from her fine-boned face with a clip at the back of her neck.
“I’m Kirra Mandarian.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Kirra—may I call you Kirra?” At her nod, Dr. Hicks motioned her to the big lounger. “Griffin, did you tell Kirra about me on your way here?”
“I told her you’d been on the FBI payroll for more than a dozen years and you were really bad at baseball—”
“Fifteen, actually, and how did you know about the baseball?” Then he laughed, shook his fist at Griffin.
“I told her you’re one of the foremost hypnotists in the country, but I believe she was more impressed with your Elvis persona.”
Kirra saw a beam of sunlight coming in through one of the three windows. Odd, but it lightened her heart, calmed her. She could do this. She wanted to do this. She said, “I am indeed impressed. I see from your photo with your daughters that you must wear a pillow strapped around your middle when you perform.”
“That I do, selected by my wife after trying a dozen different kinds, from soft pillows to those hard as a rock.” He took her hand again, smiled at her, nonthreatening, like a parent trying to reassure a child. She heard her mother’s voice in her head, warning her away, but for only an instant did she want to slowly back out of this office with its soothing pale green walls and its big comfortable lounger where she knew she’d be expected to sit and close her eyes and waft away to never-never land. She simply didn’t understand how this man she’d only just met could make her remember anything from fourteen years ago. Kirra swallowed, drew a deep breath. But if she remembered anything to help her identify those men, it would be a miracle and worth any dire consequences her mother believed were possible. She ignored the clammy sweat making her silk cami stick to her skin, the greasy ball rolling around in her stomach. It was time to suck it up, time to act. “As Agent Griffin probably told you, this is very important to me, so I’ll try, I’ll really try. I’m ready. And thank you for seeing me on a Saturday with no notice.”
“Griffin assured me it would be my pleasure.” Dr. Hicks patted her hand. “You sound like you’re in a tumbrel on your way to the guillotine. But here’s the thing, Kirra, you don’t have to try. You don’t have to do anything at all. All you have to do is trust I know what I’m doing. Please sit down. You, too, Griffin.”
When she was settled into the chair, her heart beating too fast, she eyed the beautiful watch Dr. Hicks slipped out of his breast pocket. A watch? A friggin’ gold watch? How clichéd was that?
Dr. Hicks laughed at the appalled look on her face. “I know, I know, but the watch belonged to my grandfather, a grand old man. I’ve always had an affinity for it, I suppose you could say. For our purposes the watch is merely a tool, Kirra, merely something for you to focus on to help that active brain of yours quiet down. All you have to do is look at the watch—that’s right, focus on it, follow as it swings back and forth. Sit back and close your eyes, picture the watch. That’s good. Now, do some square breathing. Deep breath, slowly release it, that’s good. Think about your breathing as you count to four, in and out. That’s right.” He waited, listening to her breathing smooth out. “Kirra, I want you to tell me about one of your happiest childhood memories with your parents.”
A happy memory? She remembered Uncle Leo had once asked her to tell him about her best birthday with her parents. She’d known he wanted to hear a good memory she had of her mother, his sister. She also knew he felt guilty he hadn’t visited more often although he hadn’t known about his sister’s illness and just how dire their financial problems had become.
“It was my sixth birthday party. Mom made me my favorite red velvet cake, with lots of buttercream frosting so thick you could swipe your finger through it and no one could tell. Dad tied balloons all over the dining room, even on the backs of chairs. A dozen kids came and several parents so there’d be some control with all the kids on sugar highs. Everyone was laughing, talking, excited. All of us kids wanted that cake and ice cream.
“I remember blowing out the six candles and everyone singing happy birthday, the kids yelling it really. My mom and dad were laughing, and they looked so happy. I knew they loved me—” Kirra’s voice caught and she swallowed tears.
“A lovely memory. Tell me more about it.”
“Their present was the best, a big stuffed white unicorn with a red bow around his neck. I named him Luke after my seven-year-old boyfriend. He burned up in the house fire.”
Dr. Hicks said, “Let’s talk about Luke a moment. I want you to concentrate on him. Can you see him?”
“Oh yes.”
“Did you talk to that unicorn?”
She nodded. “He was my best friend.”
“Let Luke fill your mind, Kirra. Now open your eyes and look at the watch again and follow its movement. That’s it, relax and remember that beautiful perfect birthday and Luke the unicorn.”
The day was crystal clear, that fantastically happy day six-year-old Kirra hoped would never end. She remembered how she carried Luke around by his horn. She felt her child’s excitement as she opened the small presents from the other kids. It was a lovely time then, bittersweet now.
Her eyes followed the swinging watch. She hugged Luke. She licked frosting off the cake. The kids jumped around and yelled with delight when they won a game. Slowly the birthday party, all the kids’ voices began to fade. She kept her eyes on the watch, listened to Dr. Hicks’s quiet voice talk about red velvet cake, his daughter Pat’s favorite. She felt herself relaxing, felt herself sinking into the chair, feeling it enfold her, comforting her. Everything began to move more slowly, one small moment flowing into the next, blending almost together, moving outside of time, outside of herself. Gently, easily, the world faded away.
Dr. Hicks took Griffin’s hand, laid it on Kirra’s. He said, “Kirra, can you feel Agent Hammersmith touching your hand?”
