Edge of Midnight

by Leslie Tentler

  Placing a framed photo out of the way, Dr. Wilhelm perched on the edge of his desk in his office at the Naval Air Station. His face appeared a little sunburned from his golf outing earlier that morning.

  “Did you experience any aftereffects from yesterday’s session?” he asked Mia.

  “I had a pretty vivid dream last night.” She pressed her hands into her lap, aware Eric’s eyes were on her, as well. “But it didn’t really make any sense.”

  “Can you describe it?”

  She released a breath. “I was a child, sitting on a street curb with a little red-haired girl. She and I were holding hands.”

  “And where were you exactly?”

  “Outside a foster care group home.” Mia felt exposed. She didn’t like discussing her past, but she wanted to be truthful for the sake of the therapy. “I was in the system as a child. I lived at the group home for several weeks before being moved to a foster family. The dream’s setting was real but I don’t remember the girl being there at all.”

  “Did you and the other child talk in your dream?”

  “She told me not to be scared. That things would get better.”

  Dr. Wilhelm nodded thoughtfully. “What else happened?”

  “A car drove past us. A blue hatchback of some kind. It slowed down and then it started to back up—I woke up then. The dream was very brief.”

  “Did you see who was driving the car?”

  Her chest tightened at the recollection. “It was a man but his face was in the shadows. I couldn’t see him but he gave me a bad feeling.”

  She glanced at Eric and saw the concern on his features before looking back to the psychiatrist. “Couldn’t this just be a run-of-the-mill, weird dream? Does it have to mean something?”

  Dr. Wilhelm shifted his weight on the desk. “I think at the least it means you have the potential to be very receptive to the therapy. As you slept, your mind opened up, Mia. What was your experience like at the group home?”

  “I hated it,” she confessed. Head bowed, she stared at her bandaged fingers. “I was afraid and I missed my mother.”

  “So your mind took you someplace you didn’t want to go. Which is exactly what we need to accomplish.”

  Mia looked up. “But the little girl wasn’t real and I don’t remember the event with the car, either.”

  “That’s all right,” Dr. Wilhelm said. He took a ballpoint pen from the pocket of his lab coat and absently clicked its top up and down as he spoke. “While the dream could be a repressed childhood memory, my opinion is that it’s actually emblematic. I think the man in the car is symbolic of your abductor. Your mind returned to a time when you were a child, when you felt most vulnerable, because it parallels the vulnerability you’re feeling now as a victim.”

  It made sense, Mia admitted to herself. “What about the little girl?”

  “Cissy Cox, one of the still-missing victims, is a redhead,” Eric noted.

  “So she was symbolic, too?”

  “Possibly.” Dr. Wilhelm rose from where he’d been seated. “What I want to do today is start by focusing on the moments leading up to your abduction again. I understand another woman was reported missing last night, so time is of the essence. As we’ve discussed, I’d like to give you a higher concentration of the catalyzing drug. That, combined with anything still in your system from yesterday, should help us tap into your memories.”

  Mia gave a small nod of consent. This time Dr. Wilhelm already had the syringe prepared and he walked to where she sat on the couch. She tried to distract herself from what he was doing by watching Eric as he paced the room.

  “Lie down, Mia,” Dr. Wilhelm instructed once he’d given her the injection. “This is a stronger dosage—you might feel some dizziness this time. I’ll let you relax for a bit and then I’ll rejoin you. Agent Macfarlane?”

  “Please stay,” she said softly to Eric. The psychiatrist nodded, closed the blinds and left the room.

  Overhead, Mia heard the intermittent roar of military planes as they took off from the Naval Air Station’s tarmac. Focusing on their sound, she reclined and closed her eyes, but opened them again when she sensed Eric sitting in the armchair next to the couch. He leaned forward so that he was closer to her, his elbows resting on his knees. A frown creased his forehead.

  “I appreciate what you’re doing,” he murmured. “I want you to know that.”

  Mia placed her hand on his forearm. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and she felt the hard sinews under his warm skin, the faint sprinkling of male hair. “I’m going to try to do better this time.”

  His expression appeared tense. “Whatever happens, it’s all right.”

  Her fingers grazed his wrist, and then she closed her eyes.

  As she lay in silence, Mia felt a warm fuzziness spread through her, the sensation much stronger than the day before. She wasn’t asleep, but her body felt relaxed and buoyant, as if she were floating on the ocean or in a backyard pool. She wasn’t aware of Dr. Wilhelm reentering the room, but she heard him speak.

  “Let’s go back to the night in your newspaper’s parking garage,” he suggested in a calm tone. “It’s late and you just filed your story. You’re headed home. Tell me what you see, Mia.”

  “My car,” she whispered, concentrating on the steel-and-concrete deck surrounding her. It was as if she really were there, but at the same time she remained tethered to Dr. Wilhelm’s voice. “I’m parked in the last spot on the first row.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m…walking. I have my keys.” Just like the last time, she felt the hard shape of the key fob in her hand. Mia pressed the device and it gave a bright chirp in response. Opening the Volvo’s door, she tossed her purse inside and slid onto the cool leather seat.

  “Are you inside the car now?”

  She nodded. “I’m…looking in my purse for my cell phone. I’m going to order takeout on my way home and—”

  Her heart lurched, scalded by surprise and fear. An arm curled tightly around her throat, yanking her backward against the headrest and cutting off her windpipe. She tried to get free, tried to scream but nothing more than a few breathy gasps escaped her. She couldn’t breathe. Her fingers clawed at the hard, corded vise choking her and she felt a sharp stab of pain in the side of her neck. Within seconds it became harder to fight. Her hands felt heavy and uncoordinated, then dropped limply to her sides on the car seat. She wanted to blow the Volvo’s horn or set off the panic button on the key fob dangling from the ignition switch, but she couldn’t gain control of her fingers. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

  The shadowed form behind her smelled faintly of aftershave. Only his eyes were visible in the rearview mirror. She felt a kiss against her right temple.

  “Hello, Mia. You’re even prettier than I imagined.”

  9

  “Mia?” Dr. Wilhelm repeated. “Can you hear me? Tell me what’s going on.”

  Eric dragged a hand through his hair, watching as her eyelids fluttered and her head rolled weakly from side to side. She’d stopped talking, instead gasping for air. “You need to pull her back—”

  The psychiatrist raised his hand in a silencing gesture. “Listen to me, Mia. Whatever’s happening right now, I want you to distance yourself from it. Go back to the empty theater we’ve created and focus on the white, blank screen. Can you do that?”

  He made the request twice before she seemed to obey, her breathing eventually slowing and her body releasing its tension. “You’re safe here, all right? We’re going to rest in the theater for a little while. Let the blank screen fill your mind. Don’t think of anything else.”

  He got up and went over to his desk. Eric followed him over.

  “Is she okay?” he asked in a low voice. His eyes fell on the blood pressure kit Dr. Wilhelm extracted from his credenza.

  “I’m going to monitor her BP as a precaution. But the therapy is w
orking, Agent Macfarlane. You were aware the memories were going to cause some discomfort.”

  Eric knew he needed to relax and let the doctor do his job. He just hadn’t expected his protective instincts to kick in quite so hard. Eric looked again at Mia. She lay on the couch—no longer moving, her eyes closed. Her lips were slightly parted and her sleek, dark hair spilled across the striped cushion underneath her head.

  “You’re going to feel a slight pressure on your upper arm,” Dr. Wilhelm advised in a soothing tone as he returned to the chair beside the couch. Gently, he slipped the cuff onto Mia’s slender biceps. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

  Taking the reading, he gave a nod to Eric, an indication her blood pressure was in an acceptable range. “Tell me what happened after you got into your car, Mia. There’s no need to go back there. Just tell me about it from where you are now.”

  They waited for her to speak. She took a fragile breath, her eyes still closed and her voice soft and dreamlike. “There was a man hiding in the backseat…he stuck me with a needle.”

  “Did you see him?”

  She shook her head faintly. “Only his eyes. In the rearview mirror. They were blue, I think. He was wearing latex gloves.”

  Which would explain why there were no other prints inside the stolen car Mia had used to escape. Eric felt disappointment that she hadn’t gotten a better look at the unsub. He had apparently used an injectable, dangerous cocktail of liquid Rohypnol and GHB. It would have been potent and fast acting, much more so than if it had been simply laced into a drink at a bar or nightclub.

  “How old do you think he might have been?” Dr. Wilhelm prodded.

  “I’m not sure. But he had crinkles around his eyes.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “That I was prettier than he’d thought.” Her breath hitched, and her hands clasped and unclasped on her stomach. “I…I don’t remember anything else.”

  “You’re doing very well. I want you to rest some more, all right?” Standing, Dr. Wilhelm motioned Eric to the hallway where they could speak more openly.

  “We can take this further before the effects of the drug begin to recede—as you know, we don’t have a lot of time. Each session gives us only a few minutes of peak access. The choice is yours, Agent Macfarlane. We don’t want to overtax her in a single session, but due to the higher concentration of the catalyst she was given this time, we’ll have to wait a few days before trying again. I advise you to use this session to your fullest advantage.”

  Eric stared at the partially closed door. He thought of Anna Lynn Gomez. The decision squeezed his lungs. “Keep going.”

  Back inside the office, Dr. Wilhelm once again settled into the armchair next to the couch. Eric stood tensely nearby, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “We’re going to leave the theater for a little while again. The man who was hiding in your car took you somewhere, Mia. You were drugged and things will be hazy. But I need you to look through that veil and tell me what you see, and what you hear. Maybe you’re in another car or an unfamiliar place. Maybe the man is there with you. Take your time…”

  Her silky lashes formed half moons against her cheeks, and her small, rounded breasts lifted and fell with her shallow breathing. She frowned in concentration for what seemed like a long time.

  “I—I don’t know where I am,” she whispered. “My head hurts and—”

  Her hands twisted suddenly, fear punctuating her words. “Oh, God. My wrists…they’re tied to a table!”

  Eric thought of Mia’s excised fingernails and hoped she wouldn’t have to relive that torture. Anxiety gnawing at him, he paced a few steps before returning.

  “I’m right here with you,” Dr. Wilhelm reminded. “Try to remain calm. Look around and tell me what you see. It’s very important.”

  “I…I’m in a room with cinder-block walls.” Her voice shook. “There’s a peg board with tools hanging on it…and pliers on the table in front of me.”

  Eric’s nerves felt raw.

  “There’s plastic sheeting up on the walls. I…” She stopped speaking. Her throat convulsed, her breath growing more ragged.

  “What is it, Mia?” Dr. Wilhelm asked. “Is the man with you?”

  “I—I don’t see him. But there’s a woman. She’s tied up on the other side of the room. She’s gagged and she’s staring right at me. She’s hurt and…” A terrified sob escaped her. “Oh, God, I hear someone outside the door. I think he’s coming back!”

  Dr. Wilhelm spoke to her, trying to control her panic, but she cried out and sat bolt upright, bucking and slapping at him as he attempted to force her back down on the couch. Eric launched forward to help.

  “Mia, listen to me. It’s Dr. Wilhelm. We’re going back to the theater now. To where it’s safe—”

  “No!” She convulsed and opened her eyes, drawing in deep gulps of air as if she had been underwater too long. Perspiration glistened on her skin. She’d clearly wrenched herself from her hypnotic state.

  Eric’s jaw clenched, his pulse thrumming.

  “Don’t sit up. Try not to talk yet.” Dr. Wilhelm reinflated the cuff still on Mia’s arm, waiting as the system got a reading. “Her BP’s quite elevated. The drug’s effect is starting to diminish or else she wouldn’t have been able to pull herself out. I think we’ve gone as far as we can for today, but we’ve made quite a breakthrough.”

  Mia looked up at Eric, her brown eyes shimmering with tears.

  “I saw Cissy Cox,” she whispered.

  It was headed into early evening, the blue sky slowly fading. There were no other cars in the driveway in front of Mia’s apartment. Eric put the sedan into Park. Cutting off the ignition, he glanced at Mia.

  She sat in the passenger seat, eyes closed and head leaned back against the headrest. Her hands lay motionless in her lap. He swallowed.

  He didn’t want to wake her. She’d fallen asleep almost as soon as they had driven off the naval base. Clearly, the therapy session had drained her physically as well as emotionally. Feeling tired himself, for a time Eric stared through the windshield at the building’s stucco-and-stone courtyard with its wrought-iron fencing and lush foliage. A wave of frustration washed through him. Mia had been to hell in the space of two hours and they had nothing to show for it. No physical description of the unsub, no clues as to his location. Dr. Wilhelm had reminded him to be patient. The therapy had worked, but they could only go at the pace her mind would allow. Even more, what she witnessed, the scenes her mind latched on to—it was like spinning a roulette wheel.

  He didn’t want to put her through those horrible hours again, but he realized that as long as she was willing it was exactly what he’d have to do. Too much was at stake.

  “Mia?” he asked softly. She stirred at his voice, blinking at him hazily.

  “I fell asleep,” she murmured in realization.

  “Stay there and I’ll come around to help. You were a little wobbly leaving Dr. Wilhelm’s office—”

  “I saw her, Eric. Cissy Cox was there, still alive. What if she still is?”

  Eric had unfastened his seat belt, but at her words he remained seated. He sighed and turned toward her, noting the downward curve to her pretty mouth and her anxious expression. He said as gently as possible, “Based on the killer’s M.O., she’s already dead.”

  Her eyes held hope. “But you can’t be sure.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that in all likelihood she had witnessed Cissy Cox’s murder. In fact, he suspected that if she hadn’t pulled herself out of her hypnotic state when she did, she might have had to relive it all over again.

  “He has another woman now. We can still help her.” With the engine off, the cool air inside the car’s interior had begun to diminish. Exiting the vehicle, Eric went to the passenger side and opened the door. Mia got out, her slender form wavering a little as she stood. Eric steadied her, his hands clasping her upper arms. “Still dizzy?”

  “I’m okay,
” she said, although her eyes didn’t share the same confidence as her voice. Her pupils were still dilated and that worried him. He’d taken Dr. Wilhelm’s word for it that the drug used in the therapy was safe, and he wondered now if he shouldn’t have pressed for more information before getting her involved.

  Don’t get personally attached. It was a primary rule within the Bureau, one ground into every agent beginning with basic training at Quantico, but Eric realized he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to protocol these days. Aware of her need for independence, he said, “I believe you, but I’m going to hold on to you up the steps anyway. Either that or I’m carrying you up. Your choice.”

  She didn’t argue. They made their way across the courtyard and up the stairs, Eric keeping a careful, protective hold around her shoulders in case another wave of dizziness hit. At her door, he took her keys to unlock it. They stepped inside the apartment and Mia gave him her pass code so he could disarm the security system.

  “How are you feeling, other than the vertigo?”

  She shook her head. “I’m angry with myself. If I’d just stayed under a little longer…”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. What you did today took a lot of courage.”

  “He was coming back. I could’ve seen him—”

  “Remember what Dr. Wilhelm said. Your mind knows how much it can process at one time. You can’t force it.”

  Mia didn’t appear convinced. She briefly ran a hand over her eyes.

  “Let’s get you to the couch, all right?” He helped her to the sofa in her living room, then sat next to her.

  “You don’t have to stay and babysit me.”

  Based on the missing Porsche outside, Eric suspected that Mia’s friend, Will Dvorak, wasn’t home. He thought of her admission during the therapy session, about her spending time in foster care, and he wondered if she even had any family to rely on. Other than Will, there didn’t appear to be a man—a significant other—in her life.

  “I’m going to make a few phone calls. I need to check in with Agent Vartran. But I’m not leaving, Mia.” He looked into her eyes. “Not until I think you won’t end up facedown on the floor if you try to get up on your own.”