by Blake Pierce
“It’s locked!” he yelled.
A few moments passed and then the engine died again. She could barely hear her captor and in her heart she hated him for the stellar acting job he was doing. She looked through the slats in the container and her heart again felt like it was doing a flip. She could actually see the agent; she saw his shoulder and the side of his face through a warped crack in the barn door.
“Ah shit, I forgot,” her captor said. When he continued, he sounded annoyed but also a little eager to please. “Hold on. I have to run inside and get the key.”
Two seconds passed—Missy knew it was two seconds because she was literally counting every moment now that rescue was so close—before she heard another noise. It was the ringing of a cell phone, coming from the agent.
“This is Ellington,” the agent said. She then listened to his side of the conversation. “Yeah? Okay, that makes sense. Damn. Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She then heard the lock clatter back to the door. “Forget about it,” the FBI agent said. “It’s okay. Just…let me get your name and number in case there are any more questions.”
Against the burlap, Missy cried out. “No!” She heard it perfectly in her head but knew that it had gone unheard by anyone else. She then tried screaming one more time but by the time it was out, she was crying instead. She stamped her feet hard against the floor and then the wall of the container but got only a flaring pain in her ankles as a reward.
She heard the agent’s footfalls walking away, lightly crunching in the snow. She let out one final guttural roar, this one so fierce that her head seemed to vibrate with it. But even then she still knew that it would not be loud enough.
She wept, nearly choking on her sobs with the gag pulled so tightly over her mouth. When the small engine of the wood splitter started back up, Missy curled herself into a ball and lost herself. Her stubborn streak was gone. There was no more fight in her. She felt herself giving up and in a strange way, it made everything a little easier to manage.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Mackenzie sat in the lobby for five minutes before Ellington called her. It was just 12:05 when she got into the car. The snow had found a comfortable pace, now falling steadily. While the snowfall was not at snowstorm proportions, it had managed to cover the yards they passed in a thin blanket of white. She figured they had about another three hours of being able to travel on the roads, so she wanted to make the best use of that time.
They both briefly shared their lack of results. Mackenzie told him about the ex-employee that had been involved in dog fighting and speculated that tons of things went down in Bent Creek that were both illegal and required animal transport crates. Ellington told her about heading out to the farm, finding nothing, and then being called to the station to speak with Earl Temper about the location of pine groves—a thirty-minute exercise that had amounted to nothing.
Mackenzie frowned. She felt like an ant trying to scale a mountain. This day was taking its toll on both of them and the snow wasn’t helping.
“Hear me out on something,” Mackenzie said as they came to the exit of the slaughterhouse parking lot.
“Okay,” Ellington said. “I’m willing to hear any ideas right about now.”
“I keep thinking of Delores Manning. I still say she’s our best bet for finding this guy. Of course, yesterday, we caught her straight out of her traumatic experience. The brain processes things in a strange way when trauma is involved, would you agree?”
“Yes, from what I understand.”
“So, I’d like to go see her again before these roads become too hazardous.”
“Like right now?”
“Yes. But that’s not it. Even if she still has problems coming up with information, I can almost guarantee you there’s bits of information—small details, really—right there at the edge of her memory. And if she’s recovered well enough, I think we can get her to remember them.”
“How?”
“With the help of a hypnotist.”
Ellington gave her a look that she did not understand at first. But when the traces of a smiled touched the corners of his mouth, she understood that he was trying to decide if she was being serious or not. “Oh…” he said. “You’re serious.”
“Yes. I’ve seen it work on a woman with a history of abuse in the past. And I’ve read countless studies about the effectiveness of it.”
“I’ve probably read all those same studies,” he said. “But I really don’t know if driving back to Cedar Rapids in this shitty weather is worth delving into some New Age practices for—”
“There’s nothing New Age about it,” she said. “It’s a legitimate yet underappreciated psychological tool. And because these things happened to Delores so recently, I think we stand a very good chance of getting some answers.”
“But you do know that any details gathered form hypnosis aren’t admissible in court, right?”
“I know that,” Mackenzie said. “But we’re not working on a trial here…we’re trying to find three abducted women.”
Ellington sighed as he looked back out to the snow. “Well, it’s more productive than sitting here in Bent Creek, waiting for enough snow to make a snowman. You got a hypnotist in your back pocket?”
“No,” she said. “I’m going to call the Omaha branch and see if I can get Thorsson or Heideman to find one—hopefully somewhere in Des Moines or Cedar Rapids.”
“Hopefully the snow won’t make it an impossibility.”
Mackenzie had been thinking the exact same thing. Still, she got on her phone and called up Thorsson as Ellington made a right turn and started down the increasingly snowy roads. As the phone rang in her ear, Mackenzie watched the snow continue to fall and found it a little hypnotizing. The irony of this, though, was a little eerie rather than funny.
***
It took less than twenty minutes for Agent Thorsson to call her back. By that time, she and Ellington had barely made it out of Bent Creek, slowed by the snow.
“Well, Agent White,” Thorsson said, “I’ll give you this: it appears that you have a tremendous amount of luck on your side.”
“How so?”
“There’s a licensed professional counselor in Cedar Rapids that also works part time as a teacher at a community college. It also happens that she also serves as a consultant and sometimes-hypnotist for psychiatrists in the area. As if that wasn’t lucky enough for you, her office is located about four miles away from the hospital.”
“Were you able to get in touch with her?” Mackenzie asked.
“Yes. We caught her just before she was leaving her office. She was leaving early because of the snow—snow we aren’t getting here in Nebraska, by the way. When we told her what you would need her for, she seemed eager to help. She’ll be in the waiting area when you guys get there.”
“Thanks, Thorsson.”
She ended the call and looked out onto the roads. Plows had come through and salt had been dumped, but the snow was winning the fight on the roads leading out of Bent Creek. Fortunately, when Ellington turned onto the four-lane road that would lead them into Cedar Rapids, the road conditions were much better. The plows had been much more thorough here and it looked as if the roads had been treated with chemical the night before, not during the snowfall as had been the case in Bent Creek.
Still, they passed two minor accidents as well as more state trucks spraying down more chemicals. Mackenzie checked the forecast on her phone and saw that the area was due to get around three inches of snow before it all finally passed by later in the evening.
“So,” Ellington said, out of the blue, “you still not want to talk about last night?”
The truth of the matter was that she did. But she knew that there was no way it would help the situation they were currently in. Also, it would make her feel far too vulnerable. The scene of their first encounter together in Nebraska was still too easy to recall. She’d offered herself to him and found that he was married
. And then last night, while it had not been quite as brutal (it had, in fact, been quite nice up until the end), she still saw it as rejection.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said. “Especially right now.”
“But…well, no hard feelings, right?”
She did her best to seem comical when she replied, “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He gave her a smile and left it at that. The car then fell into small talk about the case for a while. Mackenzie also called the hospital and requested an update on Delores Manning. She was told that Delores was doing much better today and should be discharged by tomorrow morning. Shortly after she received this good news, they arrived at the hospital. The entire trip had taken about twenty minutes longer than they had hoped, due to the roads. They quickly entered the hospital’s central waiting area, not wanting to make the hypnotist wait very long.
They found her sitting in a chair, idly watching C-SPAN on a TV that was mounted to the wall. When she saw them enter, she stood up and greeted them. Mackenzie was surprised by how young the woman seemed. She was maybe thirty and quite pretty. She was dressed in a baggy yet dressy sweater and a pair of jeans. Mackenzie wasn’t sure what she had been expecting out of a hypnotist, but this wasn’t it.
“I’m Agent White and this is Agent Ellington,” Mackenzie said. “Thank you so much for meeting with us.”
“Of course. I’m Margo Redman. Did you have any questions for me?”
“Not really. I suppose I’m just a bit cautious about how the doctors might respond to the approach.”
“If the patient is coherent and has passed basic cognitive tests, I don’t see where we’d get any push-back.”
Confident in Margo’s response, Mackenzie started for the elevators with Margo and Ellington in tow. When they arrived on the third floor and headed for Delores’s room, Mackenzie noticed right away that the police guards were no longer posted at her door. She did, however, see the same doctor who had greeted them the day before. He gave them an inquisitive look and Mackenzie assumed the best thing to do would be to include him on what she had planned.
“How is Ms. Manning?” Mackenzie asked.
“She’s doing fine,” he said. “The EKG showed no trauma and very little swelling. Still, there’s the slight hemorrhage and concussion to consider.”
“Would you mind if we spoke to her again?” Mackenzie asked.
“I’d be fine with that. But again, if she shows any signs of distress or panic, I’d much rather you stop.”
Mackenzie waited for him to add the fact that he’d like to accompany them again as he had done yesterday but he did not. Apparently he either thought Delores was in much better shape or he now trusted Mackenzie and Ellington a bit more.
“Thanks, Doctor,” Mackenzie said. She then tapped on the door and opened it, stepping inside.
Delores gave Mackenzie a sleepy-looking nod of acknowledgment as she entered. She also gave a weak smile—a good sign as far as Mackenzie was concerned.
“How are you, Delores?” she asked.
“Much better,” she said. “And because my family basically sucks, you’re the first visitor I’ve had all day.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. I just spoke with your doctor and he gave me permission to speak with you again if you’re up to it.”
“That’s fine with me,” Delores said. “But to be honest…I’ve tried thinking about what happened. Fragments of it come to me…but there’s nothing solid. It’s actually pretty frustrating.”
“I understand that,” Mackenzie said. “That’s why I’ve brought along Margo Redman,” she said, stepping aside and letting Margo take the primary spot by the bedside. “I think she might be able to help you to remember.”
“Great,” Delores said. “But how, exactly?”
“I’d like your permission to hypnotize you,” Mackenzie said.
“What?” Delores said, clearly not a fan of the idea. “Does that nonsense even work? I researched it for one of my books and it seemed like a load of crap.”
“That’s an unfortunate stereotype,” Margo said. Her voice was calm and soothing. Mackenzie thought she’d likely had this conversation before. “But there is clinical research to back up the effectiveness of it. And I would not be putting you very far under. Being that the events occurred very recently and that you can almost see them, I don’t think I’ll have to do anything very involved at all.”
Delores thought it over and shook her head slowly. “I don’t know,” she said. “Is it safe with what happened to my head? I honestly don’t even know what a mild subarachnoid hemorrhage is, but I know it sounds bad.”
“Honestly,” Margo said, “if I had to do something very major and involved, I would probably not be comfortable. But this will be a very basic session. In fact, some studies have shown that slight hypnotic suggestion can actually work to help subdue pain. It’s a great tool for rehabilitative suggestion.”
“I understand the hesitancy,” Mackenzie said. “But…another woman has been taken. This makes three he has taken—four if we include you. And with the snow outside, our job is getting harder. If we can hypnotize you and even get the smallest little clue of where this guy is or who he is, it could make a world of difference.”
Delores looked to the window where snowflakes fell majestically on the other side. Mackenzie couldn’t be sure, but she thought she caught a hint of anger in her expression—at them or at the man that had captured her, she had no idea.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”
Margo pulled up the visitor chair next to the bed and gave the most comforting smile she could muster. “It’ll be easy,” she said. “Please…I know you don’t know me, but trust me. I’ll take every precaution I can.”
She was speaking in such a somber tone that Mackenzie wondered if she was actually trying to start the hypnosis process without anyone knowing it.
Delores looked a little nervous but relaxed back against the pillows behind her.
“Are you comfortable?” Margo asked.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Okay,” Margo said. “I need you to just listen to my voice. Listen closely to each word and as you get accustomed to my voice, I want you to slowly close your eyes.”
Mackenzie watched as Delores did just that. The hesitancy she’d shown before seemed to melt away within seconds. Her eyes closed slowly, like veils to cover the secrets behind them. Mackenzie and Ellington watched as Margo went on, taking Delores further under to where, hopefully, she’d be able to find those secrets and offer them up.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Mackenzie found the process of hypnosis fascinating and was in a mild sort of awe as Margo skillfully took Delores down a few steps into her subconscious. She watched Margo’s concentration laced into each word and Delores’s reaction. She also looked over to Ellington and saw that he, despite his skepticism, was also quite interested.
“Okay, Delores, you’re doing great,” Margo said. “You should feel quite light now, almost weightless. Do you feel that?”
“Yes,” Delores said, sounding like she was very close to a nap.
“I want you to think about a place you find peace,” she said. “A place that is special to you…somewhere you feel safe. Can you bring that place to mind?”
“Yes. I’m there.”
“Where are you? Tell me some details.”
“The first writing space I ever had,” she said. “Straight out of college, in my first apartment. It’s a little desk, a clunky old Dell laptop on it. The window looks out into the back lot of a bakery. God, I loved that apartment. That writing space…”
“Good, good,” Margo said. “I want you to stay there and hang out. And I want you to really latch on to that memory. You’re safe there, Margo. But now I’m going to step back and Agent White is going to ask you some questions. I want you to answer them as best as you can but all the while, I want you to stay in that apartment. Do you understand?”
With a smile, her eyes still closed and very clearly at peace, Delores said, “I understand.”
Margo stood up from the chair and offered it to Mackenzie. Before she took her seat, Margo spoke quietly into her ear. “Keep your voice soft, quiet, and level. You can’t show frustration or concern.”
Mackenzie nodded and took the seat. She composed herself, took a calming breath, and resumed the session from where Margo had left off.
“Hi, Delores. This is Agent Mackenzie White. Are you still sitting in your first apartment?”
“Yeah. Looking at that old laptop. I wrote my first book on it.”
“That’s great, Delores. But for right now, I need you to think about the last time you were in Bent Creek, Iowa. Can you do that for me? Can you tell me why you were there?”
She thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. With her eyes still closed, it was a nearly funny gesture. “I was coming from a book signing in Cedar Rapids. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I was going to see my mother. But I never made it to her trailer. I ran over something in the road, I guess. The tires blew out. But it wasn’t long before a man pulled up to help. But…he—”
She paused here. She did not look upset yet, but it was clear she did not want to talk about it. Mackenzie looked back at Margo. Margo mouthed the words Skip ahead.
“Never mind the man for now, Delores. I need you to try to remember the things you saw when you were off the road. After that man took you…what can you tell me about where you were or what happened to you?”
“I was…in a box. Like a container. Maybe one of those things they move farm animals around in. Not quite big enough to stand up in. Just a few rectangular slats at the front. He shoved a water bottle through there so I could drink.”
“Do you know where the container was?” Mackenzie asked.
“In a shed or barn, maybe. Couldn’t see much through those slats.”
“Did you smell or hear anything?”