The Complete H-Series of The Eulalie Park Mysteries

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The Complete H-Series of The Eulalie Park Mysteries Page 103

by Fiona Snyckers


  “I’ve never heard of her. Did Chief Macgregor fire her?”

  “His predecessor did. No one knew why. She was the psychologist that we referred victims of sexual assault and gender-based violence to. She helped people to process trauma and start the journey of recovery.”

  “Sounds like she should still be working for them. Do you think she’ll agree to see me?”

  “I can call her now if you like.” Mrs. Belfast reached for the telephone.

  A flutter of panic tickled Eulalie’s chest.

  “No, no. Don’t do that. I need to think about it first. The answer I’m looking for might be on the internet.”

  “That’s fine, dear. I’ll be here if you change your mind.”

  Mrs. Belfast put the cat’s basket out on the little verandah at the front door of the office. He liked to sit there watching the world go by.

  As her laptop booted up, Eulalie closed her eyes and tried to recapture the moment she had seen the logo on the man’s shirt. But all she could remember was the sharp tang of body odor in her nostrils, and the way he seemed to blot out the sun. She had focused on the logo as a form of self-protection – a way to remove herself from the situation.

  There had definitely been boomerangs, and definitely more than one.

  Boomerangs – she entered the word in the Images search box. Instantly, her screen filled with results. There were boomerangs for sale, cartoon boomerangs, clip-art boomerangs, boomerangs from history, boomerang competitions, tutorials on how to throw boomerangs, and things that had nothing to do with actual boomerangs, like a children’s television channel, and an animation on Instagram.

  None of it sparked her memory. If anything, the constant overlaying of new boomerang images drove her memory further away.

  She tried to refine her search by typing, Boomerang Logo.

  Her screen transported her to Australia where the boomerang seemed to be a common symbol for various commercial enterprises. There were holiday resorts, camping gear, a sporting goods chain, guided outdoor adventures, and of course shops that sold every kind of boomerang from children’s novelty toys to professional grade boomerangs used in competition. None of it was useful.

  Boomerang logo on T-shirt – she entered. This time she got all the logos she had found in her previous search now mounted on T-shirts. It was extremely frustrating.

  The worst part was that she couldn’t think how to refine or expand her search further. She was out of ideas. It wasn’t often that her beloved internet failed her, but today it had.

  Eulalie looked up and blinked at the stream of sunlight pouring into the office. It was already ten o’clock. Half the morning was gone, and she had accomplished nothing.

  Her eyes drifted to Mrs. Belfast who was processing that month’s invoices. The sunlight reflected off the secretary’s cat’s-eye glasses, turning them opaque.

  She thinks I’m going to crack and hire her crazy hypnotist.

  The truth was that hypnotism scared her. She knew what it was like to have her mind possessed by the thoughts and feelings of someone else, and it wasn’t pleasant. But this was important – possibly the most important investigation she had ever undertaken. Surely, she could face down her fears for the sake of getting an answer to the memory that plagued her?

  “Mrs. B…”

  The secretary turned her head and the reflection on her glasses disappeared, leaving her looking like her normal self again.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Call the psychologist. My internet search was a bust. I’ll see her as soon as she can fit me in.”

  “Certainly, dear.”

  Dr. Hassanda Abo (Ph.D.) had rooms in the new multi-use district near the harbor known as Dockside.

  Eulalie rode her Vespa up Bonaparte Avenue, right into Lafayette Drive, left into Dockside Lane, and through a number of twists and turns that took her to the prestigious building called 100 Dockside. It offered panoramic views of the harbor, the Port of Prince William, the open sea, and a corner of the yacht club in the distance.

  If Dr. Abo could afford the rental here, she must have a successful practice.

  The building was architect-designed with asymmetrical terraces featuring real trees and a profusion of plants. 100 Dockside was proudly green in its design – boasting a neutral carbon footprint because its trees cancelled out the energy expenditure that went into building and maintaining it.

  Eulalie parked the scooter and removed her helmet, smoothing her hair with her hands. Helmet-hair was a constant price one had to pay for the zippiness, convenience and stylishness of the Vespa.

  She walked into the lobby and announced herself at the security desk.

  Eulalie didn’t know what Mrs. Belfast had said to Dr. Abo’s receptionist, but it had secured her an appointment at two o’clock on the same day. Eulalie had been counting on a couple of days to get used to the idea, but she had to admit this was convenient. She collected her security pass at the desk and took the elevator to the sixth floor.

  The receptionist gave her a patient information form to fill out. There was a short wait while Dr. Abo finished with the previous patient and came out to fetch Eulalie.

  Eulalie found herself looking up at a statuesque woman who was more than a head taller than her. She wore a dove-grey skirt suit with heeled court shoes that added an extra two inches to her height. In other circumstances, she might have been intimidating, but she had a kind face and understanding eyes. Her air of quiet competence made you inclined to trust her. For the first time that day, Eulalie felt herself starting to relax.

  “Have a seat on the sofa,” said Dr. Abo, as she led Eulalie into her office. “It’s a cliché because it works.”

  To add to the cliché, there was a box of tissues lying within easy reach of the couch. Eulalie trusted she wouldn’t need it.

  “I believe you’re struggling to access a childhood memory and believe that hypnotism might help.”

  “That’s right. When I was twelve years old, a man accosted me in Finger Alley. I remember being frightened of him. I remember that he said something to me about my mother. I don’t know whether it was actually about my mother, or just a generic insult against mothers in general. I need to remember the words he said to me.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” said Eulalie. “I’m very sure of that. It was a brief encounter. All he did was speak to me. Then I ran away from him and kept running until I got home to my grandmother.”

  “Right.” Dr. Abo consulted her notes. “Lorelei Belfast tells me you’re an empath.”

  Every cell in Eulalie’s body shrank from the term. “She said what?”

  “Don’t worry.” Dr. Abo smiled. “She also said you weren’t comfortable with it. It isn’t all that uncommon here on the island, as you probably know. It’s part of why I set up practice in Queen’s Town in the first place. I had heard about the empaths of Prince William Island and wanted a chance to work here. I moved to Queen’s Town from Nigeria eight years ago. You needn’t worry that I’ll let things get out of control.”

  Skepticism must have shown on Eulalie’s face because Dr. Abo continued.

  “You must remember that hypnotism is a voluntary act. Nobody can hypnotize a person who doesn’t want to be hypnotized. And I can’t make you do anything that goes against your firmly held beliefs.”

  “The thing is…” Eulalie hesitated. “I get too entwined with the people I connect with. I don’t know where I end, and they begin. I’m afraid that hypnotism will make me drop my guard even more.”

  “I understand, but you must remember that this is your earlier self you want to connect with, not someone else. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  Eulalie tried to feel reassured, but the thing she was most afraid of was not something she could give voice to. She barely understood it herself.

  “You’re right. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “Good,” said Dr. Abo. “Then, let’s begin.”

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sp; Chapter 8

  Even as Eulalie nodded she still felt the urge to procrastinate.

  “How exactly does this work?”

  “My own view is that hypnotism relaxes a patient enough for them to remember things on their own. It’s like when a name is on the tip of your tongue, but the harder you try to remember it the more it eludes you. Then late at night when you’re not even thinking about it, that name will pop into your mind. That’s what hypnosis does – it puts you into that relaxed state where you are no longer trying to clutch at the memory and so it comes to you.”

  Eulalie nodded. She glanced out the window where she could see a large freighter maneuvering its way into the Port of Prince William. She already felt calmer. There was something about Dr. Abo that inspired calm.

  “Okay. For real this time – let’s begin.”

  “Just lie back on the sofa in a comfortable position. You’ll see a screen on the wall in front of you. I’m going to project some pleasant images onto that screen and you are going to watch them and listen to my voice. Are you feeling comfortable?”

  “Yes.” Eulalie frowned when she saw the images beginning to appear on the screen. They were of forest scenes, with birds and insects indigenous to Prince William Island. Did Dr. Abo know of her connection to the forest, or was this a coincidence?

  Either way, the images were soothing. They were beautiful, high-resolution pictures of hummingbirds, lemurs, jewel-like snakes, colorful beetles and grasshoppers.

  “I want you to concentrate on relaxing one part of your body at a time. Think about your toes. Give them a wiggle. Each toe is getting heavier as the tension drains out of your feet. Your ankles are floppy and relaxed so that your feet roll outwards in a relaxed position. Your calves are heavy and warm. You can feel them pressing into the couch. You tense up your knee-caps once and then let them relax. They are too loose to support your weight. You tense your thigh muscles, and then you let them go. The tension flows out of them like water.”

  Dr. Abo’s voice slowed down as she talked. She sounded utterly relaxed herself.

  “You clench your buttocks once and let them go. Your pelvis flowers open in a state of relaxation. Your stomach muscles are so loose they can barely support you. Your shoulders are pressing into the couch, as heavy as bowling balls. Your arms are floppy and boneless. Your fingers curl into little commas of relaxation. Your neck muscles are too relaxed to hold your head up. Your lower jaw unclenches and separates from the upper jaw. You realize that you have been staring at the same image for a while now. It is a hummingbird with a drop of water on its beak. You have looked at it long enough. You are tired and want to close your eyes. You allow your eyelids to shut. The image of the hummingbird is still in front of you. You can see it in your mind’s eye.”

  Eulalie felt wonderful – lovely and relaxed. Even a bit sleepy. She was wondering when the hypnosis would begin.

  “I’m going to lift your right arm now and let it fall back down. That will tell me how relaxed you are. When your arm drops onto the couch, you will enter an even deeper state of relaxation.”

  Dr. Abo stood up and approached the couch. She slid two fingers under Eulalie’s wrist and tried to lift it. It was too heavy. Using her whole hand, she grasped Eulalie’s forearm and lifted it slightly off the couch. There was no tension in her muscles, but her arm was unnaturally heavy. When she let go of it, it dropped onto the couch with a thud, leaving a deep indentation in the cushion.

  For the first time, Dr. Abo felt a twinge of misgiving. This was the deepest trance state she had ever seen, let alone induced.

  “Listen to my voice, Eulalie. Stay with it. My voice is your guide in what is to come. As long as you stay with my voice, you won’t get lost.”

  Dr. Abo took a breath to calm herself. An agitated hypnotherapist resulted in an agitated patient. She had to stay calm, even as she felt she were wading into waters that were too deep for her.

  “I want you to go back to that day when you were twelve years old and walking along Finger Alley. You are feeling light and cheerful. You have escaped your grandmother’s vigilance. You are free for the first time since coming to Queen’s Town. You mean to make the most of it. Tell me what the weather is like. Is it cloudy?”

  “No. It is sunny and warm. It is always sunny and warm here in Queen’s Town.”

  It was a relief that the answer came so readily, but Dr. Abo noticed that Eulalie’s voice was becoming higher and breathier, as though it belonged to a much younger person. She was regressing.

  “Stay with me, Eulalie. You are twenty-eight years old. You are an adult. You live in your own apartment and run your own business. This is just a memory. You are remembering something that happened when you were twelve years old.”

  “Oui, je m’apelle Eulalie Park.”

  Now she had lapsed into French. After eight years on Prince William Island, Dr. Abo had picked up enough French to understand her, but not to guide the whole session in that language. And if she switched to Guillaumoise, the native tongue of her home village, Dr. Abo would be entirely lost.

  “Let’s stay with English, Eulalie,” she said calmly. “We are speaking English today. While you were walking along Finger Alley, a man came up to you. You couldn’t make him go away. Do you know who I’m talking about, Eulalie? Can you see his face?”

  “I can’t see his face. He is wearing a baseball cap, with the brim pulled down low. His face is in shadow.”

  “What about his height? How tall is he? Is he fat or thin? Can you see the color of his skin or of his hair?”

  “He is big. Bigger than me. He bends down to talk to me. He is not fat or thin, but he is big. His chest blots out the sun. I can see his hand. His skin is lighter than mine. I can’t see his hair.”

  “Is he young or old?” asked Dr. Abo.

  “He is not young like me, but he is not old like Grandmère.”

  “If you are twelve, how old is your grandmother?”

  “She is forty years old.”

  Dr. Abo made another note on her blotter: Adult. Under forty.

  “You’re doing well, Eulalie. Now please listen to his voice. What does he say to you?”

  Eulalie’s body jerked as though it had been hit by electricity. Her chest and shoulders rose off the couch. Dr. Abo had to fight to keep her voice calm.

  “Relax, Eulalie. You are perfectly safe. Nothing can hurt you here.”

  To Dr. Abo’s alarm, Eulalie’s eyes opened, and she stared blindly ahead. Her pupils were so dilated they appeared black. Her body jerked again, as though another current of electricity had struck her. Dr. Abo knew she was losing control of the situation.

  “Eulalie,” she said urgently. “Eulalie, can you hear me?”

  “You look just like your mother, little girl. You must be close to the same age that she was.”

  A chill arrowed down Dr. Abo’s spine. This was not the voice of a young girl. It wasn’t even the voice of a woman. It was a man’s voice that filled her consulting room with chuckling menace.

  “Perhaps you’ll join her when the time is right.”

  The voice broke off into deep, gleeful laughter.

  “Eulalie,” said Dr. Abo. “I know you can hear me. Look at the logo on his T-shirt. Look at it. You can see it in front of you. What is it? Remember what it is, Eulalie. Remember.”

  Eulalie’s eyelids dropped shut and her body relaxed on the couch. Her breathing slowed.

  As Dr. Abo watched, all the blood seemed to drain out of her face, leaving it pasty and grey. Her breathing continued to slow, until her chest wasn’t rising at all.

  “Eulalie?”

  She leaned over and jabbed two fingers into her neck, feeling for a carotid pulse. There was nothing. Adrenalin coursed through the psychologist’s body. She tipped Eulalie’s head back to open her airways, pinched her nose shut, and pulled open her mouth. She pressed her lips against Eulalie’s and blew two rescue breaths into her lungs. Then she straightened up, placed the heel of her hand o
n Eulalie’s chest, just above the sternum, and pumped hard five times.

  There was no response.

  She repeated the exercise – more breaths and more contractions. And again. And again.

  She was just leaning down for another round of breaths when Eulalie’s chest heaved, and she sucked in a wheezing gasp of air.

  “Oh, thank God.” Dr. Abo was shaking like a leaf.

  Eulalie gasped. Her eyes wheeled around the room. She pressed a fist to her chest.

  “I feel as though I’ve been crushed by a steamroller. What happened?”

  “You went into cardiac arrest. I had to administer CPR to bring you back. I don’t think I broke a rib, but if it had gone on much longer, I might have.”

  Eulalie sat up, wincing.

  “No broken bones, but some bruises. Paddy is more gentle.”

  “Who’s Paddy?”

  Eulalie realized how disoriented she was.

  “Paddy is… uh… my cat.”

  “Your cat knows CPR.”

  “Ha. No. He catches me early. I think he detects a change in my breathing and brings me back before I can sink too deep.”

  Dr. Abo’s expression could only be described as bemused. She buzzed her receptionist and asked her to bring in some sweet tea. Eulalie drank the tea, shuddering slightly at its syrupiness. She also took a chocolate chip cookie and found that eating it steadied her even more.

  “Were you expecting this?” asked the psychologist.

  “Not exactly. I was nervous. I worried about what I might reveal while I was under your control. What I didn’t expect was that I wouldn’t be under your control at all. I felt myself slipping away from you – it was like being tethered to you by a thin rope which gradually frayed and broke. Then I was floating off on my own, and I could only just hear your voice.”

  “You are the most suggestible subject I have ever hypnotized. We started out with a simple relaxation technique and you dropped instantly into a very deep trance. You started regressing – becoming a twelve-year-old girl again. Your voice became high and your manner childlike. I’ve never seen anyone plunge into the past that completely. It was a little disconcerting.”

 

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