Shawna shook her head. “No, nothing like that has ever happened to me.”
"Good,” Dr. Walters said. “Other possibilities include things such as something that you did not think was bad at the time but later learned was something you should not have done. Things like that can cause you anxiety and interfere with hypnosis."
Shawna shook her head again. “I can’t think of anything like that.”
“Good. Then are you ready to begin?"
Shawna nodded.
“Now Sheriff, Mr. Doyle, Ms. Bedoe, you need to be completely silent during this entire proceeding. If you need to communicate anything you must do it with hand signals and written notes. Is that clear?”
We all nodded, even Shawna. Then Ms. Bedoe raised her hand.
“Yes,” Dr. Walters said. “Oh, yes. When I’m done, and Ms. Edwards has given a preliminary description, if you have questions, raise your hand, and I will turn Shawna’s attention to you and instruct her to answer your questions.”
“Understood,” Ms. Bedoe said.
“Well, let's get started with the preliminaries then.
“Shawna, close your eyes and think back to whatever you remember about this Saturday past. Let’s start with when you woke up in the morning. You open your eyes. Do you have any feelings about the day?"
“I wondered what time it was. My alarm wasn’t ringing. I turned and looked at my clock, and I was awake seven minutes early.”
“What time do you usually get up?”
“6:30 a.m.”
“Were you tired?”
“No. I felt good, and I was looking forward to the first day of big game season and the check. I especially enjoy checking in successful first-time hunters. I find their joy uplifting.”
“So you arrive at the check station. What is it like there?”
“I parked behind the trailer, we have a trailer to take breaks in and sit, or for shelter when it gets really bad out. I got out of my Subaru but didn’t bother to lock it; we’d be there all day. It was cold, but not too cold, and the sun was out. A light breeze was coming off the river. It looked like it was shaping up to be a beautiful day. Tim came out of the trailer holding a cup of coffee for me. We do that for each other. I took it and sipped. He knows I use two sugars and cream and it was just right. Jim Bridges came out of the trailer, then, nodding to me and then toward the road. An old beat-up truck was turning in with an 8-point elk in the back. And Jim said, 'You’re up, Shawna.'”
“Good,” Dr. Walters said, “that’s enough for me to start. Just one last thing; what is your favorite color?”
Shawna looked as puzzled as I was. “I guess, green,” she said.
I knew there were many different things a person could use as a prop for hypnosis, including no prop at all. The hypnotist who helped the boy find his father used a pendant. To my surprise, Dr. Walters took out one of the large-sized iPads. She turned the display on and in a few moments she had a green page on which a series of green circles were shrinking as they descended into the center of the iPad and vanishing as other circles rushed to do the same.
“Shawna, I want you to look down into my iPad and watch the circles as they descend and vanish. Try to concentrate only on the circles as I speak to you.”
Shawna didn't reply but instead leaned over and putting her elbows on the table, and resting her head in her hands, began to look into the iPad.
“As you watch, begin to feel your body relaxing,” Dr. Walters continued. “You can feel your feet relaxing, and this relaxed feeling is making its way up your body. It moves up to your calves, then your thighs, then to your upper body slowly making its way to your chest, and then, finally, up to your head. Now your entire body is feeling more and more relaxed as you follow the circles."
I had been paying too close attention and started feeling relaxed myself. I caught myself and snapped out of it.
“Now, Shawna, your relaxed body is becoming lighter and lighter. And as you feel lighter and lighter, your eyes want to close. Your eyelids are feeling heavier and heavier. You want to close your eyelids. They are so heavy. Let your eyelids close, Shawna, let them close.”
I watched as Shawna’s eyelids flickered as if she was blinking, and then they closed.
“Now, Shawna, you are in a deep-deep sleep,” Dr. Walters said, as she reached out, took the iPad, and turned it off. “And in this deep-deep sleep, you will only hear the sound of my voice. Do you understand, Shawna? Please answer yes or no.”
There was something about the way Shawna said “yes.” I had this impression of the word somehow rising from some intimate and private place deep within her.
“Okay, now Shawna, first I want you to sit up straight with your arms at your sides.”
Shawna slowly sat up. Her eyes stayed closed. Her arms fell to her sides.
“I want you to remember back to the first day of hunting season this year. You wake up. You wonder why the alarm isn’t ringing. You turn and look at your clock. What time does it say?”
Shawna moved. She turned as if looking at something. “Six twenty-three,” she said languidly.
Dr. Walters looked at the rest of us and gave a thumbs up. I knew what this meant. She had Shawna there on Saturday morning. Now she would try to move Shawna up to the point in the afternoon where she met the hunters we were interested in.
“Okay, let’s move on to your arrival at the game check station. You pull in behind the trailer, park, and then walk around to the front. It's a beautiful day. What do you see?”
“Tim, he comes out of the trailer with a coffee for me.”
“You taste the coffee. Is it good?”
“Yes. I was afraid he’d put too much sugar in or not enough. Tim gets it wrong sometimes, but this is perfect.”
“And now Jim Bridges is coming out, and he nods toward a truck that is pulling up, with an elk in it,” Dr. Walters continues.
“Yes, a nice elk, in this old beater,” Shawna says, smiling with her eyes closed.
“What does Jim say?” Dr. Walters asks.
“You're up, Shawna," Shawna says.
“I want to move slowly ahead now to later parts of the day," Dr. Walters continues. "We are looking for a time when another truck comes, not a new truck but probably a newer one than that first truck. Move through your day slowly until you see a truck that may have more than one animal in it, but it has at least one deer, and the front right headlight is broken.
“Move slowly through your day. What kind of vehicles are you seeing?”
“Mostly trucks,” Shawna said. GMC’s, Fords, Chevys. Some cars…”
Shawna seemed to pause.
“What are you seeing now?” Dr. Walters asked.
“It's a Ford truck, a big one with an extended cab. I see it has a broken headlight on the right side. There is a deer head poking off the side of the truck bed. An antler is caught on the rim.”
“The truck has Montana plates?"
“Yes, the plain ones. Just numbers and letters.”
“Can you see the plate numbers?"
“A 91, that’s all. I didn’t really look at the plate.”
“How many men are in the vehicle?”
“Three.”
"Tell me what you can about the men," Dr. Walters says.
“One of the men gets out on the passenger side. He’s young. Maybe ten years younger than me. He comes up to me and smiles. His breath smells like beer.
“Do you know you have a broken headlight?
“He looked at the headlight then nodded. Then said,
”So, hottie, you want to check me out?
“I turn away from him. He was obviously a bit drunk. And then Tim stepped up behind us and told him he was going to check them out. The guy turned to Tim and said, ‘like I really want to talk to you.’ Another vehicle came in, and I just walked over to it. I never looked back, so I didn’t see what happened after that.”
“Had you ever seen this man before?”
“No, I don’t
think so.”
“You say he was around ten years younger than you. Can you describe him further? Picture him in your mind. Hold his face in focus and tell us what you see.”
“He’s just a young guy. He looks a bit like that guy who used to be in the old black and white television show, ‘The Rebel.’”
Both Dr. Walters and I looked to Abby who was poised with her pencil over her large drawing pad. She shook her head; the reference meant nothing to her.
“Okay,” Dr. Walters continued, “what is the shape of his head: round, oval, square?”
“His head is more egg-like, pointed end down, than completely round. He has fuzzy, dirty-blond hair cut short like a crew cut that has grown out some. But the short hair makes his ears look like they're sticking out.”
“What are his eyes like?” Walters asked.
“His eyes are hazel, I think. The pupils look a bit small. The eyes are set back and neither high nor wide. His eyebrows are thin and curved, and dirty blond like his hair.“
“What about his mouth? Can you describe his lips, the way his mouth looks?”
“As he smiles at me, leers, actually, I think I see a hint of a broken tooth on the front right. His top lip is very thin, compared to the bottom lip which is slightly thicker.”
“And his nose, is it pointed, long, wide, short?”
“Straight. Not too wide."
"If you drew a box with the top edges at the top of his ears and the bottom edge at his earlobes, would his nose fit in that box?"
"Yes."
“Does he have a beard or mustache?”
“No, but there is stubble on his face as if he hasn't shaved in a day or so.”
“How tall is he?”
“He is almost my height but not quite.”
“And how tall are you?”
“Five-eleven.”
“What about his body type? Fat? Thin? Muscular?"
“He is lean, but fit looking, like a long-distance runner."
“Any scars, moles, marks like that?"
Shawna shook her head. “No, nothing like that.”
Dr. Walters looked to Abby Bedoe, questioningly.
Abby had been drawing quickly as Shawna spoke. She nodded back, flashed an 'OK' sign with her fingers indicating she had no questions, finished a line or two on the pad, and then turned it to face Walters and Shawna.
“Okay, now, Shawna. I am going to have you open your eyes and look down at the table. There is a drawing on a pad on the table. When you open your eyes, I want you to concentrate on the drawing on the pad and nothing else. Alright?”
“Alright,” Shawna said.
“Okay, now open your eyes and look at the drawing on the table.”
As we watched, Shawna’s eyes flickered open, and she looked at the pad and the drawing Abby had made.
“Does the man in the drawing look like the man you saw that day?”
“Somewhat."
“How is the drawing different?”
“His chin was more rounded.”
“I am going to have Abby change that.”
Abby, taking her cue, took the pad, used an eraser on the chin she had drawn and made the chin rounder. Then Abby turned the pad back.”
“Does this look better?” Dr. Walters asked.
“Yes,” Shawna said.
“What else is different?”
“His ears. His ears stuck out a bit more.”
Again Abby took the pad and changed the drawing. Then she turned the drawing around.
“Does this look closer?”
“They stuck out a bit more.”
In a few more minutes we had a drawing that Shawna said resembled the man she had seen that day.
“Okay, Shawna,” Dr. Walters said. “I want you to close your eyes again.”
Shawna closed her eyes.
“I am going to count to ten. As I say each number, you will be moving back toward being more and more fully awake. When I reach ten, you will open your eyes, be fully awake and feel refreshed. You will remember everything we’ve just said and talked about. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”
We watched as Shawna opened her eyes and looked around at us.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Great,” Goldstone said.
“Does this look like the man you saw?” I asked, pointing to the drawing. I wanted to see if her conscious memory matched her memory under hypnosis.
Shawna looked down at the drawing. She looked at it for a few moments then nodded. “I think so.”
Morning Discoveries
October 23: 1:20 p.m.
Cassie Carew woke for the second time in darkness. Her head seemed to be aching just as badly as it had the day before. She wanted desperately to hold on to the dream she had been having. Her Dad was with her in the mine. For some reason, he couldn’t help her to get out. "Try to stay strong," he said.
The air smelled of smoke. She was on her side, her face resting on her right arm facing the packrat's nest. She reached for her watch on her left hand and pressed the light button. It was 1:20 p.m.. Then it dawned on her what she'd just done. Shaking her head, she realized checking her watch would have been an easy way to check if she could see. But she had not been thinking straight when she first woke up.
In the light from the watch, she could see the ashes of her fire in front of her. She took her finger off the watch button. In the dark, she gently blew into those ashes. A few tiny embers glowed but then winked out.
The night before, before her small fire died to coals and the mine was plunged into almost complete darkness, in her left jean’s pocket, she found a Kleenex tissue that she had placed there some time before and forgotten about. Now, she took this and tore small pieces of it off and combined them into a small teepee with nest sticks that she had piled next to her, collected the night before. Her fire starter ignited the paper, and she blew gently. In a matter of moments, she had a small fire casting light in her prison.
She stood and stretched. This made her head throb. Her body did not ache as much as it had, but a wave of dizziness hit her. No wonder she had slept so late. She wondered if she might have a slight concussion.
She began to turn around, and she froze. Right behind where she was sleeping there was a pile of things on the floor. The first thing that caught her eye was a package of thirty plastic water bottles. Her decision was quick. If someone wanted to kill her, they could do so easily without resorting to poisoning her. If the water was drugged, she still had no choice. Despite the snow she had swallowed the day before, she felt thirstier than she had ever felt. With her multi-tool, she cut open the plastic wrapping, grabbed one of the plastic bottles, opened it, and poured water down her throat. She finished half the bottle before lowering it.
A feeling of dizziness hit her once again. It passed after a minute.
Now, she hunkered down and looked at the rest of the things that had been brought in. She grabbed a cylindrical, cloth-covered bag, reached inside and pulled out a sleeping bag. It was musky smelling with an odd chemical hint. A $5.99 Needly Thrift price tag hung from the zipper. Why hadn't they given her her sleeping bag or her father’s? She let the sleeping bag fall. She lifted one of the two plastic bags and looked inside. There were two bags of beef jerky and a partly used roll of toilet paper. She felt like crying. Whoever had her in here was not planning on letting her out soon.
Finally, she reached for the last plastic bag. Inside was a headlight kit containing a waterproof headlight and a plastic pouch containing eight AA batteries.
She cut the headlight out of the container. It felt light. She pressed the button on the bottom, but nothing happened. After removing the back, she could see that it didn't have batteries in it. The plastic pouch was hard to open, so she was glad she had her multi-tool knife to cut the plastic. She inserted two batteries into the slots for them and reattached the back of the headlight.
/> Holding the headlight in her hand, she held her breath as she pushed the button. A beam of light blazed out of the front of the thing. At least now she had a flashlight. As she stood holding the headlight, the cold seemed to rise from the stone floor and steal what warmth was left in her feet. The headlight had two elastic straps: one circular one to go around her head and another that went from the light itself to the back of the loop. She tried putting it on her head. It was a little tight, but it fit.
Grabbing the toilet paper, she hurried off to the dead end corridor she'd discovered the day before.
When she got back, she folded up the sleeping bag, sat down on it, and stretched her feet toward the fire. Splaying the beam from the headlight across the walls of the mine she warmed her feet. Finally, her feet began to feel too hot. She pulled her feet back, and then mildly chastised herself. She had felt better with the headlight on, but that had to be a brief luxury, one she'd try not to repeat. She shouldn't waste the batteries when she had the light from the fire to see.
She started feeling dizzy again. Adding a few more sticks to the fire, she got into the sleeping bag. Soon after she was asleep.
A Second Hypnosis
October 26: 1 p.m.
Everyone but Shawna was back in the conference room at 1 p.m. After Shawna left Goldstone had suggested, he, Dr. Walters, Abby, and I have lunch at a nearby restaurant. Abby had a lunchtime errand, so couldn't join us. Bobbins and Deputy Renault were already seated at a table for two in the restaurant, so Goldstone had us sit at another table. I got the chance to ask Dr. Walters what she thought of Shawna's replies. Dr. Walters seemed a little uncomfortable with the question. She hesitated before answering. "I think it went well. But, although Shawna agreed to have you all there at the session, what I may have learned about her personally as a patient, I feel I need to keep confidential."
Dr. Walters already had Tim's background material. So the session progressed pretty similarly to Shawna’s up until Dr. Walters began questioning Tim about the meeting with the hunters of interest. Tim sat with his arms at his sides and had the same expression as the young woman who had been hypnotized before him.
Winslow- The Lost Hunters Page 8
