"Close your eyes now, Sam," Father Luken whispered.
In the quiet of the room, Cait imagined everyone could hear her pounding heart. She was staring so hard at Sam that her eyes began to water, afraid that if she blinked she'd miss something.
"40... 38..."
"Your whole body is getting heavier and you're so relaxed that you feel like you're floating on a cloud in the sky. Can you see the cloud, Sam?"
"Yes."
"And the sky?"
"It's blue."
"The cloud is a safe and happy place for you. Nothing can hurt you there. Do you understand me?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to ask you some questions? Are you ready?"
"Yes," Sam said in a sleepy voice.
"Sam, what is Jimmy's last name?" Father Luken asked.
"Morris. My name is James Martin Morris," Sam said in a voice that was lower and sounded older.
"Hello, Jimmy," Father Luken said and gave Cait a small nod. She had no intention of interrupting him and nodded back letting him know she was fine.
"When did you realize who you really were?" Father Luken asked.
Cait's heart stopped for a moment anticipating the answer.
"When I saw Sandra at my Mom's house."
"Where is Sam?" Father Luken asked, shooting her a glance. He knew that was what she wanted to find out.
"There was never any Sam. I am Sam. I was Jimmy. I've always been in Sam."
Cait heard a cry and didn't realize it came from her until Father Luken put his finger over his mouth to quiet her down.
"So you were born as Sam?"
"I think so."
"Who is Sandra?" Father Luken asked next.
"She was my sister."
Cait got Father Luken's attention and mouthed, "I know her."
He nodded. "What are your nightmares about?"
"My murder," Sam said in the same deep voice.
"Were you murdered or are those just dreams?" Father Luken asked.
"I was murdered."
"Do you know who killed you?"
"I do," Sam said, his voice shaking. Cait held her breath, not believing what she was hearing.
"Who killed you?"
"Sandra did. Sandra Morris," Sam whispered.
"My Sandra. The woman who was in our house several months ago?" Cait asked not being able to hold it in anymore.
"Yes, Mom. That Sandra," he said to her.
"Why?" Father Luken interjected before she could say anything else.
The hard laugh that erupted out of Sam's body made Cait's skin crawl, and she noticed it had a similar effect on Sara. That man's voice didn't belong to her little baby boy. "Money. Isn't it always money? I won the lottery. It was only seven hundred and fifty thousand after taxes, but it got me shot in the head."
His laugh came out all choked and garbled. Cait resisted the impulse to gather him in her arms and hug him.
"Do you know the day you died?" Father Luken asked, and Sam nodded.
"January 13, 1995, just after midnight," he said.
The date shocked Cait.
"That's your birthday. You were born at 4AM on January 13th," she whispered.
"I know where I'm buried too. I have that memory, but I have no idea why. It came to me in a dream several weeks ago."
"Can you take us to it?" Sara asked before anyone else could.
"Yes. Yes, I can."
12
The Grave
"Do you have a shovel?" Sara Caine asked as she stood in the middle of a rather disused garage. Sara wasn't sure what she expected out of the visit, but it sure wasn't what had just transpired. It took some convincing to have Sam stay under hypnosis for the trip, but Mrs. Rogers had finally acquiesced. She wasn't happy about it though, Sara thought.
"It should be back in the right corner," Mrs. Rogers waved to a pile of random garden equipment.
"Can I have the flashlight?" she asked Father Luken without looking back at him. She felt the cold metal in her hand and flicked it on. She pushed her way through the maze of boxes to the back corner. The equipment wasn't as jumbled as she first assumed, and she had no difficulty in pulling the shovel out of the pile.
"Got it." She turned and focused on Sam, sandwiched between his mother and Father Luken. Although his face was relaxed, he didn't look like a little boy to her anymore.
"We will do this thing, right?" she asked and everyone nodded. "We can take my car. There's plenty of room for the shovel and all of you in the back," she said. No one contradicted her. She assumed that both of them wanted to stay by Sam's side, and who could blame them. She didn't know how healthy it was to keep Sam hypnotized for such a long time, and she assumed Mrs. Rogers had the same concerns. Father Luken had soothed both of them by saying he would be fine, but Sara didn't entirely believe him.
They all piled into the back seat and Sara had been right that they would all fit. She closed the door behind them and once she safely had the shovel secured in the trunk, she got in and started up the car. "Where to, Sam?" Father Luken had said that it was OK to speak with Sam directly, and Sam answered without any prompting.
"Griffith Park. You will turn onto Commonwealth Boulevard to get to the trail."
Sara started the car.
* * *
Sara Caine parked on the residential street that led into Griffith Park, and they all climbed out of the car, Sam taking the lead as his mother held his hand. They hiked past the closed gate, Sara directly behind Sam, and Father Luken bringing up the rear, shovel in hand. Sam took a hard right and headed up a trail right off the entrance.
"How did Sandra get your body up here, Sam? Did you see that?" Father Luken's voice came from behind Sara.
"Her boyfriend put me in a wheeled suitcase, and they rolled me up here," Sam said between breaths. Sara saw Mrs. Rogers give her son an encouraging squeeze and he leaned into her in thanks. Sara couldn't imagine what Mrs. Rogers had to be going through at this moment. Sara didn't think she could be that calm. A scratching sound from somewhere to her left interrupted her thoughts. She froze in place and Father Luken bumped into her.
"It's just a coyote, keep moving Sara," he whispered in her ear and she smelled his aftershave. He would not be a priest anymore. The thought came unbidden from somewhere deep in her consciousness and all she wanted to do was shove it back to where it came from. This was neither the time nor the place to be thinking that. She felt foolish enough to pick up the pace to get away from him and his damn scent.
They hiked up to the top of the hill, and Sara turned to see the lights of Los Angeles glowing underneath them. It looked like something out of a movie.
"It's here. I recognize that tree and the view." Sam's voice drifted down to them. He and his mother stood some distance away, several feet off the path. Father Luken pushed past her to get to where Sam was pointing, shovel at the ready.
"Did they bury you in the suitcase?" he asked.
"Yea, they did. Does it matter?" Sam asked.
"Very much so. I won't have to worry about destroying evidence if your body is protected by the suitcase," he said and pushed the shovel into the hard packed soil. It didn't take much longer for him to hit what they were all looking for. Sandra's boyfriend hadn't dug the hole very deep.
"Sam, why don't we leave Father Luken and Sara to open the suitcase. You don't want to see what's inside, do you?" Mrs. Rogers said with a quiver in her voice.
"No, Mom. I don't want to see what's inside," he said and let her pull him back on the path.
"Are you ready for this?" Father Luken asked as Sara shined the flashlight on the dirty top of the suitcase. "It's been super dry the last couple of years, but we might just find mush in there. Are you ready for that?"
"Have you ever seen a dead body before?" she asked instead of answering him, unable to take her eyes off the suitcase.
"You don't have to, Sara. It really is fine."
Sara bent down to open the zipper in defiance.
"No, do
n't touch it. Not without gloves. The last thing you need is your fingerprints all over that," Father Luken said and pulled on latex gloves. Sara couldn't believe he had come so prepared. He bent down and pulled the zipper open with his gloved hands. "Ready?"
Sara nodded, and he opened up the flap. The flashlight revealed the mummified body of a man folded at the waist.
"Hello Jimmy," was all Father Luken said.
* * *
Caitlyn Rogers couldn't believe she was still standing. She was supposed to be comforting her son, but the shock of finding the body just as Sam said it would be, drained all the energy out of her. She was relieved not to have to see the body and that Sam preferred not to either. She had worried about his reaction to seeing his former body and that the experience would just create more nightmares. Now that his story was confirmed, she was sure the nightmares were going to be part of their lives for good.
"I have a contact at the LAPD that I could call. She's very active in our parish," he said and opened up his cellphone. "I don't have any service here. We're going to have to go back down to street level."
"What about the body?" Sara asked. "The coyotes, remember?"
Cait gave a start at the mention of coyotes and pulled Sam closer to her. "Coyotes?" she said in a small voice.
"You're right, Sara." He went and zipped the suitcase back up.
"Should we rebury it?" Cait asked.
Father Luken shook his head. "I won't be gone long. We should start down the trail though. Do you want to lead the way again, Sam? Do you remember the way down?"
"Yes," Sam replied and took Cait by the hand and started down the trail, pulling her along with him. Sara and Father Luken followed right behind him.
"What are you going to tell the detectives, Father?" Cait overheard Sara whispering to him.
"I'm not going to tell them about Sam, if that's what you're asking," Father Luken said, loud enough for Cait to hear him. "You would prefer that, wouldn't you, Mrs. Rogers?"
"Yes, very much so," Cait said.
"But what are you going to say about how you found the body?" Sara asked, no longer pretending to be discreet. Cait spoke up, feeling she should be part of the discussion.
"Could we say that you got a tip? Maybe from the confessional?" Cait offered.
"I am bound by the laws of the church not to divulge my parishioner's sins," he said.
"Isn't this an instance where you would be compelled to speak up?"
"I can't do that," Father Johan said.
"You don't have to divulge the name. Couldn't it be a witness who saw them digging up there?" Cait thought the idea was sound. She had never been Catholic though, and didn't entirely understand the whole idea of a confessional. She'd only seen it in the movies.
"I don't think that's such a bad idea, Father Luken," Sara added. "I can't think of a better explanation. You won't have to divulge the source and if this detective is one of your parishioners then she'll understand the sanctity of the confessional, wouldn't she?"
"Let me think about that. Neither of you are Catholic and you don't fully understand what you're asking me to do," he said.
"Do you have a better idea?" Sara asked as they finally reached flat ground.
"Let's talk about this later," Father Luken said rather sharply. "There could be people around."
* * *
No one said another word until they reached the car. The night had gotten chilly and Cait wished she'd brought a thicker sweater for both her and Sam. He shivered against her. Sara opened the car and Cait turned to her. "Sam is shaking like a leaf. Do you think you could put the heat on so we could all warm up?"
"Of course," she said, got in and turned on the car. Cait helped Sam climb into the old Volvo and they huddled together in the back seat, neither of them saying a word. Father Luken slipped into the front seat and turned to them.
"I want to pull Sam out of the hypnosis and send you both home," he said in a tone that told her he didn't want any arguments out of her. She wasn't about to argue and nodded.
"Sam, please focus on my voice," Father Luken began. "I want you to count down with me. When I snap my fingers at one, I want you to jump off the cloud and wake up. Ready?"
"Ready," Sam said.
Cait didn't take her eyes off Sam's face.
"Ten,nine...eight," Father Luken began and Sam piped in.
"Seven,six..." Their voices mingled as they counted down to one. Father Luken snapped his fingers and Cait watched her son's eyes grow wide and then close.
"Sam, can you hear me?" Father Luken asked.
"I can hear you," Sam said in his six-year-old voice. Cait pulled him to her and kissed him on the top of his head.
"You did so well, honey," she said into his hair.
"We found Jimmy," was all he said.
"We did find Jimmy, baby," she agreed and hugged him even tighter.
"Mom, I can't breathe," he gasped.
"I love you, baby," Cait said.
"Wuv you too," his muffled voice came from somewhere in her sweater. She saw Father Luken motioning for Sara to come speak outside and couldn't care less. As long as they kept her and Sam out of it, they could do whatever they wanted, she thought as she watched Sara vigorously shake her head at Father Luken. Sara Caine, however, seemed to care very much what happened next.
All Cait wanted to do was tuck her baby into bed and fall asleep right next to him. She couldn't wait to get home. Tomorrow was a new day and now that they had found Jimmy maybe the seizures would stop. Maybe it would all stop, and they could have a life again. She could have her six-year old son back, and they could focus on his new life and not look back on his old one.
13
The Explanation
Father Johan Luken stayed out of Detective Jennifer Gomez's way as her partner and the crime scene techs swarmed around the uncovered suitcase. Uniforms barricaded the scene from any looky--loos. Dawn bathed Los Angeles in a warm golden hue that soothed Johan's nerves. It had been a long night, and he had a feeling he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. The conversation with Detective Gomez had not entirely gone as planned, and he wished he had just called in an anonymous tip. He wanted to be a good citizen, but he had fully screwed up.
Detective Gomez finished consulting with the Coroner and walked over to him. "You must be exhausted, Father Luken," she said as she appraised him. He knew that she considered him a suspect, and it didn't feel good. He was under no illusions of how the justice system worked and just because he was innocent didn't mean he wouldn't be charged anyway.
"I'm fine, Detective Gomez," Johan said in an even tone.
"We will need your official statement regarding the discovery of this body," she said. "You said on the phone that you knew the identity of our victim?" She motioned for him to follow her down the trail, and they started down in single file.
"That's correct. His name is James Martin Morris. I believe he lived on the West side," he said and watched her jot the name down in her notebook.
"How do you know that is our victim?"
"As I said before, I received the information during a confession."
"I thought that the sanctity of the confessional precluded you from going to the police. Or anybody for that matter," she said and turned to him with an inquiring look. "Why break such an important vow?"
"I haven't fully. My parishioner witnessed the burial and denied having any part in the killing. I will never divulge his name, but I felt it important to bring the body back to his family and help the man find justice for the crime that was committed against him."
"That doesn't explain why you broke your oath, Father," Detective Gomez reiterated as they reached level land.
"I don't think I'll be able to provide you with a satisfactory answer then Detective," he said, facing her.
"So all you can give us is the burial site and the name of the victim?" she said in a nonchalant manner that Johan imagined prompted people to keep talking.
"And the date of the
murder. January 13, 1995 sometime after midnight was what the witness said and that the incident was over a lottery ticket."
"That's very specific," Detective Gomez remarked.
"The parishioner could never forget that date. The person said it fundamentally changed their life. I don't find the fact they remembered the date as particularly curious and the parishioner heard the fight that came before the murder," Johan said. Detective Gomez studied him for another moment.
"Would you mind coming to the station with me? I'd like to get this all in writing and on tape."
Johan ran a hand through his hair. "Is that really necessary?"
"I think under the circumstances it is. I want to make sure to dot my i's and cross my t's. You must understand the unique circumstances of this case, Father Luken."
"Should I be contacting a lawyer, Detective Gomez?" Johan asked.
"That is your right, Father Luken. But, if you have nothing to hide..." She let the question hang between them. There was only one way to prove that he wasn't the actual perpetrator and that was with an alibi.
"Shall we get going?" Detective Gomez turned to her unmarked sedan.
"I have my car here, Detective Gomez," Johan pointed at his truck.
"We'll have one of the uniforms drive it back to the station." Detective Gomez flagged down a uniform about to make the trek up the trail with eight coffees.
He came over, doing a poor job of hiding his scowl, and said, "Yes, Ma'am?"
"After you take the coffees up there, could you drive that truck back to headquarters, Hollywood Division? You can give him the keys, Father Luken."
Johan hesitated and tried to come up with an excuse to drive himself but decided this fight wouldn't be worth it. He handed the keys over to the cop who tucked them into his pocket and left without saying another word.
"After you, Father Luken," Detective Gomez said. Demons were way easier to deal with then the LAPD, Johan thought as he climbed into the cruiser.
* * *
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