Enter Evil

by Linda Ladd

  “Really? Then maybe I ought to put them on my suspect list and check them out.”

  “I want to see if I can put you under and deprogram you, if necessary.”

  I shook my head. “No way. I’m not going under hypnosis.”

  “You don’t have much of a choice. If he got to you, he may succeed next time he decides he wants you to kill yourself.”

  “Well, that’s putting it pretty plain, Jane.”

  Waiting, he said nothing.

  “You’re really serious, aren’t you? I can’t believe you think he could’ve manipulated me like that.”

  “What harm can it do to let me see if I can find out? All I want to do is see if you can remember more about what happened when you were out there. What he did to you, if anything. Maybe he didn’t, maybe I’m wrong, but why take that chance? Think about Mikey. Think about that poor girl in the stove, whoever the hell she was. We wondered why she would put herself in that oven, didn’t we? Well, she wouldn’t, not unless she was programmed to think it was something else.”

  When I didn’t jump at the chance to let him enter my mind and putter around, he added, “I can film your session with me, and you can see and hear exactly what I say and what you say. You trust me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I know he couldn’t’ve done it. There wasn’t time. I remember every single minute I was there. And I was watching his every move because I didn’t trust him.”

  “Claire, let me do this. What harm can it do? We’ll see just how suggestible you are.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “Humor me. It might save your life.”

  “Why would he want to kill me?”

  “Because you’re getting close to uncovering that he’s using mind control on the patients out there. If he was behind Mikey and the two girls’ deaths, you can put him away forever. If he’s making people commit suicide, that’s first-degree murder.”

  “You’ve been a shrink too long, Black. Nobody’s gonna get into an oven and burn themselves up because some doctor gave them some kind of posthypnotic suggestion.”

  “I’ve read plenty of studies in medical journals that say just the opposite, depending on the drugs used and temperament of the subject.”

  Hesitating, I shook my head, unable to believe it. “How come I’ve always heard that nobody could be hypnotized without their consent?”

  “That’s right, that’s the general consensus, but they can make people do things that they think are innocuous. You didn’t think you were killing yourself with those pills. You thought you were having your favorite chocolate candy.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, it was beginning to make sense. Even more important, it lined up pretty well with my case. And as much as I hated being a guinea pig, I needed to know if it were possible. And if I trusted anybody, it was Black.

  “Okay, but I’m telling you that you’re wrong this time. Maybe he got into Mikey’s head, and those girls, too, but he couldn’t have done it to me. I was just there once and not for that long. And I was very careful.”

  “If he could make you take those pills, he could also make you forget what happened, as well as what he said to you under hypnosis.”

  “No way.”

  Black didn’t answer; he just held up the pill bottle.

  “Okay, but don’t do anything funny when you’re inside my head.”

  “Come on. Let’s make sure I’m wrong and I’ll rest easier.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  “We can do it in my office. I’ve got cameras already in place.”

  Ten minutes later, I was sitting in a chair in Black’s plush office waiting to play some hocus-pocus with him. He sat down in a chair just across from me.

  “You are trained in this, right, Black? You aren’t going to turn me into a Muppet or a nymphomaniac, or anything?” Smiling, the joke fell flat. Neither of us were in a happy-go-lucky mood.

  He didn’t crack a smile. “The latter’s not a bad idea. Maybe you ought to try to relax. You’re as stiff as a board.”

  “I’m as relaxed as I’m gonna get. Told you I’m not made for this kinda stuff.”

  “Okay. Just stare at the light above you and listen to what I say.”

  “This is so gonna fail.”

  “Listen to me, Claire, block out everything else, hear only my voice.”

  “There isn’t anything else. Maybe you should turn on the radio, or something.”

  “You’re not trying.”

  “Okay, but don’t blame me if I fall asleep.”

  “Just do it, Claire.”

  Sighing, heavy and resigned, too, because this really was ludicrous, and I don’t mean the rapper. I listened to his deep, soothing voice and all that silly stuff about how relaxed I was, how loose my muscles were, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah, blah.

  When I woke up, Black was sitting where he had been. I was relaxed back into the chair, so I sat up.

  “I told you. Didn’t work, did it?”

  “Yes, it did. You’re highly suggestible. Sorry.”

  I stared at him but I believed the serious expression on his face. “You mean you put me under?”

  “That’s right. But I didn’t get much out of you. Do you want to see what happened?”

  “You bet I do.”

  He walked to the DVD recorder, got out the disk, and put it in a player on a big-screen plasma television behind his desk. I watched the film come on and then I was sitting there while Black was doing all that soft, sweet, soothing talking to me. Suspicious, I listened as he asked me my name and where I was born, all of which I answered correctly. I stood up and walked closer. Now this was just weirder than weird.

  The camera stayed focused on me, but I could see Black’s legs and hear his voice. He went through more of the relaxation stuff then after a while, he said, “Are you comfortable, Claire?”

  “Yes,” I said, but I didn’t remember that question or answer.

  Wonderingly, I looked at Black. “I don’t remember that.”

  “You’re under big-time. Watch.”

  Onscreen, Black said in that same very low, gentle voice. “I want you to go back a few days ago, go back to the day you are visiting the Oak Haven psychiatric clinic.”

  “Okay,” I said on the screen.

  I shook my head. “Man, this is making me nervous.”

  Black was speaking again. “What did you do first?”

  “Bud and I went in and asked to see Dr. Young.”

  “Was this the only time you were there?”

  “No, I went out there another time.”

  “What happened the first time?”

  “We held some interviews.”

  “With whom?”

  “Dr. Young and Happy Pete, and then Cleo and Roy.”

  “Did one of the doctors put you under hypnosis?”

  On the film, I was silent. “I don’t remember.”

  “Think back. Were you ever alone with any of the doctors?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Was Bud with you the whole time you were with Dr. Young?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Did he ask you to look into any kind of lights?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Did he give you any kind of drugs?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Did he tell you not to remember.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who told you not to remember?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  I looked at Black. “Oh, my God.”

  Black’s voice sounded again. Sounded angry now. “What about your second trip to that clinic? Did anything happen that time?”

  “I went alone. I didn’t like Boyce Collins. He came on to me, wanted to ask me out for a cup of tea.”

  “Really?” said Black’s voice on tape. “What did you say?”

  “I asked him if he was coming on to me, and then he said he’d like to take me out, but he knew I was with Black.�
��

  “Good. Did he do anything unusual during the interview?”

  “He explained his theories with the pulsating colored lights and sound waves.”

  “Did he ask you to help him demonstrate?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Did he tell you that he would call you and tell you what he wanted you to do.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Did he touch you?”

  “He put his hand down my shirt and fondled my breast.”

  I gasped and jerked my gaze to Black.

  Black hit the pause button and said, “Yeah, and I’m going to make that bastard pay for that the next time I see him.”

  Facing Black, I shook my head. “That can’t have happened. I’d never have allowed that to happen.”

  “I hope to hell it didn’t. Unfortunately, we can’t prove it, one way or another.”

  “This is unbelievable, Black. I cannot believe any of this is happening.”

  “Hypnosis can be very disturbing and dangerous in the wrong hands. Now all we have to do is prove he’s doing this kind of stuff to his patients.”

  “Do you think it’s Collins?”

  “Yes, but it could be Young. You never said which one of them. They’d blocked that out of your mind. Who knows, it might’ve been both of them. They’ve always been thick as thieves.”

  “You think he films his victims?”

  “I’d be very surprised if he didn’t.”

  “I’ll get a warrant, and we’ll have them.”

  “Based on what? This tape? I don’t think any judge is gonna sign off on it. You don’t remember enough, and what you do say doesn’t really mean anything.”

  “I want to hear the rest of it. Hit Play.”

  Refocusing on the DVD, I listened to myself speak, supposedly while in a trance.

  “Did he tell you to think about your son and dwell on his death? About Zach?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  My jaw dropped, and I knew then this all was making perfect sense. I put my hand over my mouth and watched the screen.

  Black said to me on the tape, “Claire, listen carefully to what I say. I want you to forget anything any doctor has told you to do, other than myself. Just go back and remember what they said and erase their instructions from your mind. If you receive a phone call and hear their voices, or any voice telling you what to do, you will hang up the receiver without listening to them. You understand me? You will never do anything they ask you to. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I’m going to bring you back now. I’m going to count backward from ten, and when I reach one, you will open your eyes.”

  I watched it happen, shocked to my deepest core. Flabbergasted, I was.

  “Will that last stuff stop me from doing anything to myself or anyone else?”

  “I hope so, but I can’t guarantee it. I can’t guarantee anything. This is very dangerous stuff they’re messing with.”

  “I said I couldn’t remember. Maybe that just means it didn’t happen.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “You’re scaring me, Black.”

  “You ought to be terrified. You need to find a way to search their homes, if not for this, then for something else illegal. Find a reason, anything. If we can get hold of tapes where they manipulate you or their patients, you can nail them for malpractice, if nothing else.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Do it soon.”

  I sat down and stared at the dark screen. This fit very well with certain aspects of my case, but proving it was going to be damned near impossible to do.

  “I’m going to get that pervert,” I said, anger clenching my teeth as I realized just how vulnerable I was, if this turned out to be true.

  “And I’m going to help you, if I don’t kill that guy with my bare hands first.”

  I glanced at Black to see if he was kidding. He was not kidding.

  TWENTY-TWO

  The next afternoon Black had an emergency with a patient in counseling at Cedar Bend. He didn’t like having to leave me on my own, but he had to, and Bud was in Fenton seeking out Dee’s third roommate, the elusive Melanie Baxter. I didn’t tell Bud about what happened last night with the Darvocets when we talked on the phone, hadn’t wanted to think about it myself, but it was pretty much controlling my every thought. The Darvocets I’d taken had ended up giving me a pretty deep and dreamless sleep when Black and I had hit the sack again. Still, I was nervous and unsettled about the state of things, so I decided to go to the office, sit at my desk, and spend the afternoon surrounded by a dozen or so other armed sheriff’s deputies, while I went over every fact we’d uncovered, which didn’t amount to a whole lot.

  Most of the guys knocked off around six, and the station was practically deserted after that, except for the night duty guy on the desk. When it began to get dark outside, I switched on my desk lamp and wrote up more reports on the Mikey Murphy murder investigation, knowing Charlie was two seconds from yelling at me for not turning it in. I also read through Cleo’s autopsy report, for really fun reading. It didn’t take long for me to decide that if our three victims were murdered by one of their doctors, that someone sure hadn’t left any incriminating evidence lying around for me to trip over.

  The evidence box was tucked out of sight under my desk, and I took out the plastic bags with Mikey’s personal effects inside them. My eyes focused on the unknown key in its plastic evidence bag. I got it out and laid it on the blotter in front of me. I stared at it. Nobody knew what lock it fit. We’d done the research, had asked every single person I had interviewed who might have been privy to that information. Nada. Maybe I should just start going to every bank, every bus station, every gym or fitness club and start trying it in the lockers. It beat sitting here wondering about it. I put it in my purse, if worst-case scenario came to pass.

  My cell phone began to sing, which made me jump, afraid a psycho doctor was calling. I grabbed it and flipped it open, hoping it was Bud with some kind of good news concerning Li He’s missing roommate. It wasn’t. Caller ID said M. F. Murphy. Icy Dearest was on the line. Great.

  “Claire Morgan.”

  “This is Mary Fern Murphy.”

  “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

  “You said to call if I heard anything, or if anything else occurred to me that might help you in your investigation.”

  Okay, I did say that. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, I don’t know if this will be of any value to you, but I did recall something I heard a couple of weeks back that might be helpful. Maybe not. It concerns one of my son’s ex-girlfriends. The one who dumped him and started all this.”

  Ears perked, I sat straighter. “And that would be Sharon Richmond, right?”

  “Yes, how did you get her name?”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t divulge information like that, Mrs. Murphy. But I am very interested in anything you might have to tell me.”

  “Yes, I suppose you are. I understand the investigation is more or less stalled.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. We’re working very hard to get the facts.”

  “I didn’t mean offense.”

  Right. “Yes ma’am.”

  “Well, it’s not much, just a tidbit, and I got it just by chance. I was getting my hair done. I go to Cyd’s Hair and Nails, because she’s the absolute best around, and while Cyd was styling me, there was a lady at the next station getting her hair highlighted. She and her stylist were talking about the kids in their own children’s high school graduating class and what they were doing now, and she said that she was in Branson and ran into Sharon Richmond. That took me completely by surprise, since I thought she had moved to Tennessee a long time ago.”

  That took me by surprise, too. “I see. Did she say where she saw her?”

  “Yes, apparently Sharon’s got a shop there, a weird kind of place, she said. With lots o
f incense and candles, items like that. That girl always was a little on the peculiar side and into drugs, too. I was glad when she took off and left Mikey alone.”

  I’m not going to say it. No, I won’t. Oh yes, I would. “Despite the fact that she broke your son’s heart and put him in the psych ward?”

  “Well, of course, I didn’t like that part of it.”

  “Did you get the address of this shop, Mrs. Murphy?”

  “You know what, I didn’t think to. Besides I didn’t wish to appear as if I were eavesdropping.”

  “I see.”

  “But I did catch the fact that she’s going by a different name now.”

  Was I gonna have to pry the facts out of this woman? Where was a crowbar when I needed it? “And that name was…”

  “Khur-Vay. Whatever that means.”

  Whoa. Now this was some information I could dig a shovel into. “Khur-Vay? You sure that was the name, Mrs. Murphy.”

  “Yes, Detective. I’m positive. Who could forget a name like that?”

  Not me. But our little Miss Khur-Vay must’ve forgotten to mention she was Mikey’s former girlfriend, a fact I never would have even considered. “Thank you, Mrs. Murphy. You’ve been very helpful. I’ll check this out immediately.”

  “Well, I do want to help in any way I can. Joseph’s not handling this well at all. He hasn’t been back to work, but Ed’s been very understanding.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. If you should think of anything else, please give me a call.”

  “I certainly will.”

  We hung up and I dug Khur-Vay’s card out of the bottom of my purse. No home address or phone number, but it did have the number for the belly dancing studio. Punching in the number, I waited while it rang six times. Then a voice recorder answered in Khur-Vay’s distinctive voice.

  “Hello, this is Khur-Vay. Sorry but my shop will be closed for two weeks. I’ll return on August twenty-second. Please leave your name and number if you should like to sign up for lessons. See you on the twenty-second.”

  Wonder where Khur-Vay was heading off to so fast? She hadn’t mentioned going on vacation when I was with her. Suspicious, yeah, angry, too, I punched in Harve’s phone number.