His voice was so friendly that we all returned the gesture, including Hobbit.
“Well, hello there.” Aldous laughed as he shook her paw. “And you are?”
Hobbit panted.
“That’s Hobbit. I’m Becca and this is Allison,” I said.
“So nice to meet you. I am your mother’s attorney.”
“Oh? Our attorney is Levon Lytle,” Allison said warily. She’d been the one to call Levon the day before. “We’re waiting for him and the hypnotist.”
I liked Aldous immediately, but Allison wasn’t so sure.
“Hypnotist? Oh my, that’s why he wanted me here so early?” Aldous blinked into thought for an instant but came back quickly. “Well, Levon felt unwell this morning. I’m sorry he didn’t reach you. He sends you all his regards. I’m his new partner.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious,” Allison said.
Aldous waved away the concern. “We don’t think so, but he couldn’t be here, so I’ll have to do. Cross my heart I’m qualified. I would like to know more about the hypnotist, however.” He cleared his throat.
“What details did Levon share about the case and about my family?” Allison asked.
Aldous spoke with his hands, again in an elegant dancer fashion, but it took a moment to get used to it.
It turned out that, other than the hypnotist, Levon had shared all the details of the case with Aldous as well as his years-long ties to the Robins family and their hippie ways.
But Aldous was unsure of the involvement of anyone “who called themselves a hypnotist.” He didn’t want someone peering into his client’s subconscious in the presence of either law enforcement officers or perhaps a prosecuting attorney. We told him we didn’t think there would be any other attorneys present and we’d ask the police to leave the room.
“Where’re you from?” I asked.
“Originally Charleston, law school at Yale, a couple years in New York City at a firm that relied on most of their new recruits dying from exhaustion. I was tired of the pace and looked for something smaller, something closer to home. Levon’s my aunt’s boyfriend, so here we are.”
In the next minute, two cars pulled up to the curb and parked next to my truck. Sam got out of his police cruiser as the hypnotist, I presumed, got out of her Cadillac. When in work mode, Sam was pretty good at hiding emotions, especially surprise, but even he rose an eyebrow at the hypnotist’s getup.
“Sarie Short, hypnotist,” she said as she extended her hand just like Aldous had.
This time, Hobbit didn’t lift a paw but looked at me as if to say, “And who’s this?”
Sarie Short had driven up in an older-model Cadillac but was dressed as though she was part of a motorcycle gang. She wore a black leather vest and black leather pants. She had on heavy black boots and heavy blue eye makeup. Her bleached blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She’d had at least one face-lift. She was extra skinny but compensated with cleavage that might have been part of a two-for-one plastic surgery deal—three-for-one if the face was included.
“I’m Allison, and this is my sister, Becca.” Allison shook the woman’s hand.
“Nice to meet you both.” She nodded toward Aldous and Sam. “I’m sorry about my attire today, but I’m part of a biker group and we’re leaving for a ride this morning.” She turned so we could see the back of her vest; it said “Bikers for Babes.” “We ride for some children’s charities. It takes me so long to pour myself into these tight pants that I just went ahead and got dressed for the ride. That okay?”
We assured her it was fine. I expected her voice to be that of a two-pack-a-day smoker, but it was soft and Marilyn Monroe-like. Aldous’s mouth went thin and sideways as he inspected Sarie. I thought I might have seen a glimmer of interest in his eyes, but I didn’t know him well enough to be sure. Sam’s questioning eyebrow quirked approvingly at the mention of her motorcycle-gang’s cause.
“Shall we go in?” Sam said.
It was still early enough that the front doors of the municipal building were locked. Sam let us in and we followed him up the stairs, past the empty receptionist desk and to the door marked “Police.”
Hobbit and I trailed the crowd of one police officer, one market manager, one bicycle-riding attorney, and one motorcycle woman.
As Sam opened the door to the police offices, a nervous rush rocked my stomach. The fact that my mother had been detained here for days now suddenly made me queasy. Hobbit sensed the change and nudged my knee.
I patted her head.
“Hey, Sam.” Another officer was sitting at one of the desks, his fingers working the keyboard of a computer as he spoke. He was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. “Just typing up this last call we got and I’m out of here.”
“Anything serious?” Sam asked.
The young officer glanced at the crowd and then back to Sam. “No, nothing. Just a couple calls that didn’t require in-person attention. I’ll print out a report and put it on your desk before I leave.”
“Thanks, Riley,” Sam said. “Everything okay there, too?” He nodded toward the cells.
“Absolutely. They are the nicest and probably the soberest prisoners we’ve ever had. In the middle of the night, Mr. Robins ran to the convenience store down there two blocks. He bought us all ice cream sandwiches.” Riley laughed. He couldn’t be much more than twenty, with short blond hair and eager green eyes.
Sam smiled, even though he thought the police department wasn’t a place for levity or ice cream sandwiches. I knew he didn’t miss the crazy excitement and high crime rate of Chicago, but sometimes we were a little too homey for him.
“This way.” Sam turned and led us through the back door and into the hallway that led to the holding cells.
Mom was standing and stretching, and Dad was folding a blanket.
“Hello,” Mom said as her arms relaxed. She smiled and her eyes brightened at the crowd.
My parents had always loved an interesting group. They’d often have dinner parties where they invited people with as many different views as possible. I suddenly remembered one barbeque they had when Allison and I were about fifteen. They served hamburgers and potato salad as the Democrats, Republicans, and Libertarians argued politics, popular movies, and the best way to roast a marshmallow. My parents had strong views that were, to no one’s surprise, very liberal, but they loved hearing and discussing the “other sides.” They made sure we grew to appreciate that it took all kinds.
I was sure the group that walked into the holding cell room was just the kind of motley mix Jason and Polly would like to see at one of their dinner parties.
“Mom,” Allison said. “How are you?”
“I’m great, dear. I slept very well. Who are all my visitors?”
Allison did the introductions, and we all grabbed chairs. Sarie sat in front of Mom, and the rest of us made a half circle behind her.
At first, Sarie asked if the rest of us would leave the room. She was prepared to record the session if necessary. Aldous was the only person who refused to leave, claiming that as Mom’s attorney, he should be present at any time the case was discussed. Sarie seemed to understand, and she said that if one stayed, the others might as well, too. But we were commanded not to make a sound.
However, Sam left the room without any prompt from Aldous. Even he must have seen how having a law enforcement officer present was a bad idea. But I knew he was curious. He caught my eye as he left. He knew I’d never betray my mom, but he also knew that if something came of the session that needed a closer look, I could trust him to investigate it properly. I nodded.
“Hey, Hobbit, want to come with me?” he said as he stood in the doorway.
She looked at me for approval, which I gave, and she then joined Sam in the other parts of the police station. I appreciated the gesture. Hobbit wouldn’t have understood that being totally quiet meant also stifling an itch or a sneeze. She’d be better off without the restrictions.
“Okay,
well, this is somewhat unorthodox,” Sarie said as she looked at the audience. “Hypnotism is about relaxation. It is rare that someone can fully relax with an audience, no matter what you might have seen on TV.”
“I think I’ll be fine, Sarie. I meditate all the time,” Mom said. “I can put myself into a deep meditative state in the middle of a rock-and-roll concert if necessary. Once, at the Grateful Dead, I got the worst headache, and I knew the only way to get rid of it was to meditate it away. I didn’t want to leave the concert, so right there in the middle of ‘Truckin’ I sat down and did what I needed to do. Jason watched over me, and I didn’t come out of it until somewhere in the middle of ‘Sugar Magnolia.’ We’ll be fine.”
“If you really think so.” Sarie smiled. “But really, everyone, quiet, and I mean it.”
We nodded silently.
Sarie pulled a round pendant on a chain out of her small bag.
“I won’t swing this in front of you like they do in the movies, Polly. I just hold it and have you focus on it for just a second while I help you become relaxed. I will have you close your eyes after a moment. You will be the only one in the room subject to the hypnosis,” Sarie said.
Mom nodded. I wanted to sit up and take a closer look at the pendant, but I was afraid I’d make too much noise. Allison and I shared a small shrug instead.
“I understand we need to take you back to Friday and see if you remember the events of that morning, is that correct?” Sarie said.
Mom nodded again.
“Very good. Are you ready to begin?”
Mom nodded once more.
Sarie’s Marilyn Monroe voice was perfect for hypnotism. Mom fell into a closed-eye relaxation quickly, but the rest of us remained well awake.
“Okay,” Sarie said. “Now we’re going to go back to Friday. Do you remember what you did when you first woke up that day?”
“Yes, Jason and I hurried to get ready so we could go see the girls.”
“Your daughters, Polly?”
“Yes, Allison and Becca.”
“Did you have breakfast?”
“Yes,” Mom said.
“Can you remember what you ate?”
“Yes. We both had wheat toast and two soft-boiled eggs.”
“Good. How did you get to where your daughters were?”
Mom went on to recite the events of the morning. After she and Dad ate, they drove their rented Prius to the market. They first stopped by the office to surprise Allison, where they learned about the restaurant association visit. They were originally going to leave and come back after the visit, but Allison talked them into staying and finding me.
Mom talked about seeing old friends at the market; she talked about looking for my boyfriend that she’d heard so much about, but hadn’t been able to find him right away. She talked about how great it was to see her girls and how proud she was that they’d both created good, happy lives.
And then she talked about the horrible moment with Joan.
“What did you feel when she reacted the way she did toward Becca’s preserves?” Sarie asked.
Aldous sat up in his chair. He didn’t make a sound, but I was concerned he might be about to object. I looked at him sternly, but he didn’t look at me.
“I felt anger, of course,” Mom said.
“Was it an unreasonable anger?”
“No.”
I didn’t know what that meant or what Sarie was looking for, but Mom answered quickly and concisely. How does one measure anger? What definition was Sarie using?
“Good, Polly. Now, I’d like to jump to the time after you left the farmers’ market. Let’s skip to where you and Jason are back in the Prius. Tell me what happened from the second you got into the car.”
Mom was quiet.
“Polly?”
“I . . . I heard you, but there’s something that’s keeping me back, keeping me in the market.”
“Okay,” Sarie said confidently. “Tell me what’s keeping you there.”
“I’m not sure.” There seemed to be an edge to her voice as if she was frightened. Dad, Allison, and I all sat forward, not caring if we made noise. Aldous’s mouth did the sideways pinch trick again.
“It’s all right,” Sarie said softly. “Polly, you remember everything, but there’s no danger. There’s nothing there that can harm you. Tell me what you see.”
Mom visibly relaxed but remained silent for almost a full half minute. “I can’t see what it is at all. I don’t know why. But it’s not something to see, anyway, it’s something to smell.”
“A scent?”
“Yes.”
“What does it smell like?
“I . . . darn it, I’m not sure, but there’s something my mind wants to remember. I can feel it. But I can’t pinpoint it. I just can’t.”
“That’s fine. We won’t worry about that right now. When I count to three, your memories will jump to you and Jason in the Prius. You will have left the market. One, two, three. Are you in the Prius?”
“Yes, we’re going to see our son-in-law and grandson.”
“Tell me about that visit.”
Their time with Tom and Mathis was uneventful. They visited for a while and played a few games of tag with their grandson.
“After you left Tom and Mathis, where did you go?”
“I asked Jason to take me to Becca’s. I thought I would see Hobbit and see what I could do to get dinner started.”
I was glad Hobbit was out of the room; she would have perked her ears at the mention of her name and probably made a sound to let Mom know she’d heard her.
“Go on,” Sarie said.
“I found Hobbit immediately, and after I walked her around the property a minute, we went into Becca’s house. I hesitated because I didn’t think I should be going in the house without first letting Becca know. I tried to call her to ask, but she didn’t answer her phone.”
I remembered seeing the missed call, but not until much later that evening.
Mom continued. “I grabbed some treats for Hobbit and then looked in the refrigerator. I saw eggs, cheese, and plenty of vegetables. I decided I’d make omelets for dinner. It was too soon to start cooking, though, so I took Hobbit back outside.”
Again, she was silent for too long.
“What are you seeing, Polly?”
“I’m not seeing anything definite. I’m seeing bits and pieces of things.”
“That’s normal. Remember, though, you’re safe. Just tell me what you see.”
“Oh, wait! We didn’t go outside because there was plenty of time to cook dinner. We went outside because I thought I heard a car screeching its wheels. Hobbit heard it, too. She barked at the noise.”
Once again I wished my dog could talk.
“Did you explore what the noise was?”
“Yes. Hobbit and I went to the front of the house and looked out the front window.”
“Go slowly, Polly, but tell me what you saw. Tell me everything, nothing is too small.”
Mom’s forehead crinkled a little more, and her head moved a little as though she had to peer around something.
“For a second I didn’t see anything. There was no car anywhere. I wondered if I’d imagined it, but Hobbit had barked. And then I saw something else.”
“What did you see?”
“It looked like the door to Becca’s barn was open. I didn’t think she ever left it open. Hobbit and I went out on the porch and looked around the property but didn’t see anything out of place. I remember that I was thinking we must have just heard the car’s wheels on the state highway, not on the driveway like it seemed.”
“Polly, let’s look around the property again. Look closely at everything. There’s no hurry. Tell me what you see, even if it looks the way you think it should look.”
Mom saw my property in ways I didn’t think I would be able to even though I lived there. She described the shapes of my strawberry and pumpkin plants. She noticed a crack on the cement of the front
porch.
“Becca has a flower bowl full of petunias at the corner of her house. It needed watering. I was going to water it, but I thought I should go and close the barn door. Becca’s always been so particular about cleanliness.”
Mom got silent again.
“What is it, Polly? Is something wrong?” Sarie asked.
“I don’t know. For some reason, my gut told me to go into the house, lock the doors, and call someone . . . the police or Jason or someone. I should have listened to my gut.”
“It’s just fine that you didn’t. You’re here and you and your family are safe and fine. Let’s go to the barn. Remember, this is just a memory and nothing that you see can hurt you or anyone at this point. It’s all just a memory. Go ahead. Tell me what happened.”
“With Hobbit at my side, I walked toward the barn, but when I was about fifteen feet away, I heard a scream. Hobbit barked and put herself in front of me. I froze for a second. I think it was that split second of standing still that got us in trouble.”
“Polly, I need you to now put the rest of this memory into slow motion. Let’s not hurry through it no matter how bad it turns out to be. It’s only a memory.”
“I’ll try,” Mom said. “Okay, I froze and wondered if what I heard was really a scream. Hobbit nudged my knee. I hoped to hear something else, something that would confirm whatever it was that I’d heard. A second or so later, someone came out of the barn. They ran at me.” The pitch in her voice rose.
“Relax, Polly, nothing can hurt you. Tell me who came out of the barn.”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Can you see their face?” Sarie asked, her voice still mellow and calm. My breathing and heart rate had sped up, and I was finding it difficult not to make noise.
“No, I can’t.”
“Is it hidden by something?”
“Maybe. I think it’s covered.”
“That’s all right. How about their body? Does it look like a man or a woman?”
“I don’t know.”
“How about their hands? Can you see their hands?”
“They’re in fists, but I can’t make out any more than that.”
“What did you do?”
Crops and Robbers Page 13
