Slow Burn

by Ednah Walters

  Despite the relaxing atmosphere, Ashley’s stomach knitted with tension. She walked to the window and stared blindly at the people walking down the street.

  “Babe, why don’t you sit down and try to relax,” Ron said from behind her, his hands resting in her waist.

  Relax? How could she when she was about to revisit the most traumatic moment in her life? She turned and gave him a tiny smile then walked to the loveseat and sat. He joined her, reached behind her to rub her back.

  “It might help if you talked about your fears,” he added.

  “I want my memories back, but I have this fear that there must be a reason why I chose to block them.” She paused to clear her throat. “Maybe the dream I had the other night is really what happened ten years ago and not something my subconscious created to fill the void in my memory. I keep asking myself whether I’m ready to deal with the truth.” She threw him a glance from the corner of her eye. “But, I’m happy you’re here with me.”

  “So am I. However,” he cupped her cheek, turned her head until their gazes connected, “if you don’t think you’re ready, then don’t go through with this.”

  Ashley shook her head. Considering how much he wanted to know what happened that night, it was quite noble of him to suggest giving up. She didn’t really have a choice. They’d already decided to work with Dr. Reuben first before attempting to jog her memory by walking through Carlyle House.

  “I’ll be fine.” When Ron continued to frown, she pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

  “Only if you’re sure,” he added.

  Ashley smiled, thinking it cute the way he worried about her. “I am.”

  The reality of what she was about to do had hit about an hour ago. Who knew she would be falling apart like this at the last minute? Ron had kept her too busy last night for her to worry about anything else—fixing her door, discussing their case, making love. This morning, dealing with cops—not that the conversation with Officer Sanchez had shed any new light into the cause of Dunn’s death—then later dropping off the sketch of Frankie Higgins at Kenny’s offices had kept the thoughts of the pending hypnosis at bay. Now her knees knocked and ice spread under her skin. The waiting was driving her nuts.

  She shot an impatient glance at the door just as it opened and a petite woman of about fifty walked in. It was Dr. Reuben. Her graying dreadlocked hair was pinned back and glasses perched at the tip of her freckled nose. She smiled and nodded at Ron, then turned her attention to Ashley.

  “My dear.” She walked to her side, sat down and took her hand. “How are you feeling?”

  “Nervous. Scared.” She’d learned a long time ago never to lie to Dr. Reuben. Her chin lifted, determination cutting through her fear. “But I still want to do this.”

  The therapist shook her head and sighed. Not exactly the reaction Ashley had expected. Before she could ask if everything was okay, the woman looked up at Ron and offered him her hand. “We haven’t met. Irene Reuben.”

  “Ron Noble.”

  Her eyes sharpened as though she recognized his name, but she didn’t say anything. Instead of inviting Ron to sit, she turned to face Ashley. “I’m so sorry, my dear. But I won’t be performing the hypnosis today—or any other day. Let me finish, please,” she added when Ashley opened her mouth to respond. “I’m taking an extended leave of absence from my practice and will be referring all my patients to several of my colleagues. We tried to call you earlier today to cancel the appointment but your phone went unanswered.”

  No. Please no. It took her this long to muster enough courage to agree to hypnosis. Ashley shook her head. “I don’t want another therapist, Dr. Reuben. I only agreed to do it because I knew I’d work with you. It will take me forever to trust another therapist.”

  “I understand that, dear. But I’m in a situation that can’t be helped.” Dr. Reuben’s grip tightened on Ashley’s hand. “You see, someone bugged my offices. As a therapist, my patients rely on me to keep our sessions private, so anything they tell me is confidential. Someone out there has had access to my office for I don’t know how long. I’ve no idea who that person is or how many of my sessions have been compromised. I can’t treat anyone until I know the extent of the damage.”

  Ashley didn’t know what to think, how to feel. The hollow feeling in her stomach intensified. This was the last straw in a string of many strange coincidences. Maybe recovering her lost memory wasn’t meant to be. She looked at Ron, knowing how much this latest development must be devastating to him.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  His hand closed on her shoulder and squeezed. “It’s not your fault. I hope you catch the person responsible for this,” he added, looking at the therapist.

  “I hope so, too,” she added.

  Ashley studied the woman. The lines on her face appeared more pronounced and her hazel eyes were shadowed. “I don’t know if I want to go through this with another doctor, Dr. Reuben.”

  “Ashley—”

  “I know, I know. I need to face my fear and see this through.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay. If you recommend someone, I promise to think about it.”

  “That’s the spirit.” She patted Ashley’s hand then she got up, went to her desk and retrieved a manila envelope. “This has a list of colleagues who are exceptional therapists. I’ve already explained my situation, and they’re willing to absorb my patients.”

  “Thank you.” On impulse, Ashley hugged Dr. Reuben after accepting the envelope. The doctor returned the hug, then stepped back and broke the contact. An awkward silence and hasty goodbyes followed.

  Ashley and Ron left the office and headed down the stairs. It was after five and people hurried through the lobby of the office building, mostly heading outside, but a few walked toward the elevators. Ashley glanced at Ron from the corner of her eye. His expression was calm, which was exactly what she needed right now. Any signs of frustration at the turn of events and she’d only feel worse. This wasn’t how she’d planned this day to end.

  The drive to her place was accomplished in silence. Inside her loft, Ashley threw the envelope Dr. Reuben had given to her on the counter and started the coffeemaker.

  Ron watched her like a hawk. “Sweetheart, why don’t you open the envelope?”

  “No. It took me years to trust her, Ron. I’m not about to start all over with another shrink.” She leaned against the counter, pinched the bridge of her eyes and sighed. “We’ll go with plan B—walk through Carlyle House until something jogs my memory. You have the keys, right?”

  He moved around the counter toward her, nodding.

  She took a deep breath and released it. “It’s time. My memory’s coming back in bits and pieces, but more rapidly than before. You can even show me the secret room.”

  Ron stopped in front of her and peered into her eyes. “That’s a wonderful idea, but I still need you to open the envelope. Please.”

  His expression was solemn, his behavior beyond weird. If he wanted her to study the names of shrinks she had no intention of seeing, she’d humor him. Ashley plucked the manila envelope from the counter, grabbed a letter opener from a tray by her disconnected phone and slid it open.

  A single sheet of paper with Dr. Reuben’s slanted handwriting nestled inside. She read the single sentence, shook her head and read it again. She looked up at Ron and frowned. “What does she mean she’ll meet me at your place at seven to perform the hypnosis? What’s going on?”

  Ron crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, a grim expression settling on his face. “On Sunday before I learned that you slapped me with a restraining order, I asked Kenny to check on your shrink.”

  “What? Why would you do that?”

  “Hear me out, please. Okay? I assumed that whoever bugged your place must know you’d made an appointment to see Reuben. And since we’ve concluded they’re after what you remember from ten years ago, I knew they’d also bug her place. Kenny contacted Dr. Reuben last night w
hen she got back into town, explained to her what was going on and she let him search her offices. When we stopped at his place earlier, he told me he found transmitters in every room and on the phones, and a video feed in the fan’s socket in the room we were in.”

  Ashley’s hand crept to her chest, her heart pounding like tom-toms. It never crossed her mind that Dr. Reuben could be in danger. But Ron had thought about her and taken care of things. She reached up and touched his cheek. “Thank you. How did you get her to agree to a search? Reuben is so fastidious about her personal space.”

  “I wasn’t there, but Kenny can be charming when a situation demands it. I tend not to ask for details. He has someone shadowing the therapist and will coordinate things with her and her husband to sneak her inside my house tonight in case she’s being followed.”

  Ashley reached for two mugs, filled them with coffee and handed Ron his black. She added hazelnut creamer to hers, her mind going in circles. After she took a long sip, she set her mug on the counter and studied her man. She loved him and would do just about anything for him, but she hated when people kept things from her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on our way to her place? Why am I hearing about it now?” Her voice came out even and non-confrontational.

  “The plan was for you to act naturally in the doc’s office when she cancelled the hypnosis. You passed with flying colors.”

  Her eyes widened as realization sunk in. “You mean the bugs are still in her office?”

  Ron nodded. “This way, whoever is listening will believe Reuben won’t hypnotize you and hopefully leave you and her alone. Remember what Kilpatrick said, Dunn’s office was swept clean. Someone is still listening.”

  Ashley frowned as the conversation with the therapist replayed in her head. “Does that mean she’s really not closing her practice?”

  “I don’t know. You can ask her tonight. Kenny filled me in on the basics and kept the details to himself. One thing he did say was that the good doc has a soft spot for you. Once Kenny explained what’s been happening, she wanted to help, hence the appointment at my place. Why are we whispering?”

  “This whole investigation seems so surreal, like we should be wearing disguises and skulking in the dark. So what’s the plan?”

  Ron put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “We grab some food, head over to my place and wait.”

  ***

  Hours later, they’d picked up Chinese food somewhere in West Hollywood and were on their way to Ron’s. Ashley hadn’t given much thought to where he lived, but looked around with interest as they pulled up the driveway of a gorgeous Mediterranean hilltop villa in Beachwood Canyon. He parked his car and led her along a cobbled courtyard to an arched, iron-studded oak door. The ancient-looking door, plain white exterior with high and tiny oval windows, didn’t prepare her for the splendor inside. Ashley’s jaw dropped when he unlocked the door and turned off his state-of-the art security system.

  She’d died and gone to heaven. The loft-style living, dining and kitchen open floor plan was her ideal design of a dream home. The oak floor and wood-accented walls, plants in niches and brown furniture created an outdoorsy aura. Stars twinkled through the skylights and clear glass French windows dominated the length of the house, displaying the panoramic view of downtown L.A. Security lights gave her a glimpse of mature trees and an ivy-choked wooden fence. She spied a den through an arched doorway to her right as Ron carried the bag with their food to a brown granite kitchen table.

  “You have a beautiful home,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  She took in the wood, lantern pendant lights dangling from the ceiling and sconces on walls. “How old is it?”

  “About eighty, but I fixed it some.” He pulled out plates from a cupboard and utensils, and reached for the Styrofoam containers.

  She caught his wrist. “Show me around first.”

  “Not much to see really.”

  She tugged his arm. “Then it shouldn’t take long, should it?”

  He grinned at her overt curiosity, wound his arm around her shoulder and hugged her closer. “If a tour is what you want, babe….”

  He didn’t hurry her as they walked through arched doorways from room to room—a den, a media room, home gym and a guest room. Two French doors on either sides of the fireplace in the master bedroom opened to a balcony. For a moment, they stood out there, arms around each other, and enjoyed the view of downtown L.A. at dusk. The pristine waters of his swimming pool reflected the sky’s myriad of colors. By the time they made it back to the kitchen, Ashley wanted to trade homes.

  Ron regaled her with stories of the crap he’d gone through renovating the house as they settled on cushioned chairs at the dining room table that seated six. He produced a bottle of Chardonnay to go with their chicken dishes and heaped their plates with food. They dug in, keeping the conversation easy.

  When a knock came at the door, it was quarter to seven. So absorbed in Ron, Ashley had completely forgotten the reason she was in his home. Reality shifted and a shiver racked her body. It was the therapist’s office all over again.

  Dressed in an overcoat and scarf tied around her head, Dr. Reuben’s petite form was dwarfed by Kenny and another military-type guy with cropped brown hair. Everything happened fast after that. Pleasantries were exchanged, curtains drawn and lights turned on. Kenny and his man disappeared somewhere. Ashley sat on a dining room chair, arms hugging her body. The verbal exchange between Ron and the therapist finally penetrated her foggy mind.

  “Ron…may I call you Ron?” When he nodded, the therapist smiled. “Please, move that chair to the other side of the lounge. You can sit there, but you mustn’t interfere.”

  Ron nodded. “I understand. Thanks for allowing me to stay.”

  “I can bend my own rules once in a while.” She walked to Ashley’s side, touched her arm. “Come with me, my dear.”

  She led Ashley to the lounge next to a table with a single candle then sat on a chair facing her. Ashley took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Ron’s presence behind her felt very reassuring.

  “I need to know if you’ve had any recollection since we spoke,” the therapist asked.

  Ashley gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m not sure if a dream counts. Remember the sketch I showed you last week?” The hypnotist nodded. “I saw the same man in my dreams.” She removed the sketches from her bag and handed them over to the therapist then quickly explained what she saw. “Do you think this was part of my memory or something I cooked up?”

  Dr. Reuben was quiet for a moment as she studied each drawing, her forehead creased. She handed the sketches to Ron and turned to face Ashley. “There are many different theories as to what causes dreams. The basic belief is that a little bit of our memory and imagination combines to form dream imagery—a mesh of our subconscious thoughts and our desires.” She leaned forward. “In your dream, it could be that it was easier for you to put a face on the villain hurting your mother and the one in your sketch was handy. Or it could be exactly what happened ten years ago.” She studied Ashley’s expression, her smile gentle. “But that’s where hypnosis comes in. Since it provides access to the subconscious mind, it can help you to relive those particular events.”

  Ashley nodded. Maybe it was all her imagination. Maybe no one killed her parents. She could hope despite what Ron had told her, couldn’t she?

  “I want you to remember what we talked about last week, Ashley. You’ll be able to hear me during the entire time you’re under. You’ll tell us everything you see, feel, touch and smell. If you become scared or need a break, I’ll press your right knee. Immediately, you’ll go back to a happier time or a safe place where nothing can hurt you. When you’re ready to go back and deal with the situation, I’ll touch your left knee, okay?”

  “Okay.” Right knee meant happy times. Left knee meant going back in the mix of things. Ashley took another deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  “Good. N
ow, lie down on the lounge. Be comfortable. Remember, you have nothing to fear. No one is going to harm you.” The doctor glanced at Ron. “You have people who care about you here. Everything you’ll see has already happened.”

  Ashley looked at Ron, smiled, then nodded at the doctor. “I think I’m ready now.”

  “Good. Let me get everything set.”

  Dr. Reuben lit the candle on the side table. As though on cue, Ron pressed a button on a remote control and the lights in the room went off. The glow from the candle cast eerie shadows around the room. With the silence that now filled the house, they could have been conducting a séance.

  The therapist quickly explained the basic method of guiding someone into hypnosis for Ron’s sake, but her soft voice soothed Ashley’s nerves. The decision to be a participant and not an observer during the process had been hers. She wanted to relive every last moment of that night so she didn’t miss anything.

  “I’m going to help you relax, Ashley,” Dr. Reuben finally told her. “Concentrate on my voice and follow my directions. No matter what other sounds you may hear, just concentrate on my voice. Every time you hear it, know that you’re safe.”

  Ashley nodded.

  “I want you to take a long, deep breath through your nose and hold it. Count to eight, then exhale slowly and completely through your mouth. That’s very good. Now tense all your muscles from your toes to your jaw. Make them very tight. Count backward from ten to one and relax them.”

  Ashley smiled as a surprisingly warm feeling surged through her body.

  “I want you to look at the candle,” Dr. Reuben instructed. “Keep your eyes on it and breathe slowly and freely. With every breath and passing moment, you’re becoming more peaceful, more relaxed. That’s good.” After a few seconds of silence, she added, “Now I’m going to count down from one hundred. When I reach eighty, you will find your eyes becoming more and more tired. When I get to sixty, your eyes will close.”