by Patricia Fry
“No, not really,” Savannah said. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I’d love to be of some help if I can. Sure. Call her and see what she says.”
****
After dinner, Rochelle and Savannah drove the almost five miles to Alicia’s home. Alicia greeted them, saying, “I really appreciate this, but I have to say I’m a little nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
Rochelle smiled. “Most people are at first, but I think you’ll find it to be relaxing—hopefully with the results you’re after.”
Savannah looked around. “Where are Mark and Crissy?”
“Mark has a class tonight. He thinks he wants to get his realtor’s license.”
“So both of you are studying these days?” Savannah asked. “You’re ambitious.”
“Well, when you have a family to support and you want a decent future even though you don’t have a college education, you have to play catch up.”
“I thought you went to college,” Savannah said.
“Yes. Thankfully, I did, but Mark didn’t have that opportunity.”
“Well, good for you both,” Savannah said.
Alicia nodded and added, “Crissy’s having a sleepover with Bradley. Jenna has been entertaining her all day, which is why I was able to get through the journal so quickly.”
Savannah smiled. “It’s nice to have family around to help out, isn’t it?” Without waiting for Alicia’s response, she asked, “Rochelle, where would you like Alicia,” she grinned self-consciously, “and me?”
Alicia put her hand on Savannah’s arm. “I want you to stay with me.” She asked Rochelle, “Can we do it here in the living room?” As an afterthought, she asked, “What, exactly, should I expect?”
Rochelle smiled and suggested that Alicia lie down on the corduroy sofa. She pulled an ottoman closer, sat down, and said, “I’d like to start by asking you a few questions. As I understand it, someone believes that your father was safekeeping something for him and you don’t have any conscious knowledge of it. But from what Savannah tells me, there’s the possibility that you saw or heard something as a child that maybe you’re blocking or you were too young to remember.”
“Yes, that’s pretty much it,” Alicia agreed.
“Okay. Well, I told Savannah that if this is the case, hypnosis might help you get to the truth in the matter.”
“Was there any mention of this in your father’s journal?” Savannah asked.
Alicia frowned as if in thought. “Not really. There were a couple of things in there that sort of tugged at me—know what I mean? They could have been tiny clues or hints, but I didn’t have any big revelations about anything that could be related to my father having kept something hidden from me.” She sputtered, “Well…I mean he wasn’t hiding it from me, but from…um the authorities, maybe. No, I don’t know.” She raised her eyebrows. “There was reference to someone named Ron, so maybe that’s RJ.” She faced Rochelle. “That’s how the letters I’ve received are signed—RJ.”
Rochelle nodded.
“In what context was Ron mentioned?” Savannah asked.
Alicia shrugged. “Just in passing—nothing specific only…”
“Only?” Rochelle questioned.
“Only I got the idea that Ron was an integral part of Dad’s life, which was surprising since I never heard of him or met him, that I know of.” She thought for a moment, then said, “Dad didn’t have many friends. We were never friendly with neighbors. I mean, we weren’t rude, just didn’t socialize. So to have him name someone in his journal like he did Ron…well, it was interesting to me.” She shook her head. “I guess he could have been a coworker, but it seemed as though he was someone Dad had a history with.”
“Interesting,” Rochelle said. “Do you know the time period when that name was coming up in his journal?”
“Oh!” Alicia yelped. “Yes, actually, because I realized I was probably around four years old at the time. I checked the dates on those entries where Ron was mentioned to—you know, prime my memory. Yes, I was between four and five years old when Dad mentioned Ron in his journal.”
“Well, shall we get started and see what your subconscious mind remembers?”
“Is that what hypnosis is?” Alicia asked. “Getting in touch with the subconscious?”
“Pretty much,” Rochelle confirmed.
It took mere minutes for Alicia to relax, and Rochelle began by posing safe questions. After a short while, she said, “Alicia, I want you to remember back to when you were a child. Can you go back to when you were six years old? Look at yourself as a six year old. What are you doing?”
Alicia smiled. “I have a nice teacher named Jilly. She comes to my house and plays games with me. Oh,” she said as if surprised, “we’re going outside to bounce my big rubber ball.”
“Can you see yourself when you were five?”
“Yes.”
“What do you see? What are you doing?”
“My daddy’s pushing me on my swing.” She giggled, and spoke quietly. “Higher, Daddy, higher.”
After a moment, Rochelle said, “Alicia…”
Alicia interrupted. “I’m Mary. Daddy calls me Mary.”
Rochelle glanced at Savannah who nodded. “Of course, Mary. Do you remember your daddy’s friend—the one he called Ron?” When she saw Alicia scrunch up her face, she continued, “Do you know Ron? Did he come to visit?”
“No.” Alicia mumbled. “I don’t see him. It’s just me and Daddy.”
“Mary, you’re now four years old. I want you to look through your life as a four-year-old and try to remember someone named Ron.” When she saw Alicia tense up, she asked, “Mary, what’s happening? Is something upsetting you?”
“He hit Daddy. No!” she shouted. “No!” She began to cry.
“Who’s there with you and your father, Mary?” Rochelle asked gently. “Do you see who else is there with you and your father?”
“Ron,” she said, sobbing. “He’s mean. He’s trying to make Daddy promise.” Suddenly she screamed.
“What’s happening?” Rochelle asked.
“He grabbed me. He’s hurting me.” Alicia began to sob. “Daddy, Daddy.”
When Alicia relaxed, Rochelle asked, “What did your daddy do, Mary?”
“He took the package.”
“Package?” Rochelle questioned.
“It’s a bag with handles.”
“Do you know what’s in the bag?”
Alicia shook her head slowly.
“What happened when your daddy took the package?” Rochelle asked.
“Ron went away.”
“Did you ever see him after that?”
Alicia shook her head again.
“Mary, what did your daddy do with the package?”
She scrunched up her face, thinking. “I don’t know.”
“Did you ever see that package again?”
She thought, then said brightly, “Yes.”
“When and where did you see it again, Mary?”
“Once when we were getting ready to move.”
“How old were you then, Mary? Can you tell me where you lived when you saw the package again and where you were moving to?”
“I was eight and we moved to a farmhouse.” She smiled. “I loved that farmhouse.” She then frowned. “I asked Daddy what that was in the bag with handles and he said it was nothing I’d be interested in. I guess I forgot about it after that. But I know it went with us to the farmhouse.”
“Mary, did you see where your dad put that package when you moved to the farmhouse?”
Alicia shook her head. Then looked pensive.
“Are you remembering something?” Rochelle asked.
“I think it’s still there,” she said.
“The package?” Rochelle asked.
Alicia nodded. “Yes.”
“Go to the day when you moved to the farmhouse. How old are you?”
“Eight years old.” She
smiled. “Dad gave me a puppy of my own.”
“Where was this farmhouse, Mary?”
“Stratton. We lived in a small house on the property. Daddy knew the owner and he let us live there for a while. I think that’s where he left it.”
“How old were you when you moved from that small house on the property, Mary? Go to the day you moved out of that house.”
“Dad wasn’t well. We had to move closer to hospitals. I was fifteen.” She was quiet for a few moments, then she squeezed her eyes more tightly closed and squirmed a little. “I see him giving something to Mr. Bart…”
“Who’s Mr. Bart?” Rochelle asked.
“The man who lives in the big house.” Alicia suddenly relaxed against the sofa cushions. “Yes, I think he gave it to him and I never saw that package again.”
“Okay, Alicia,” Rochelle said, “I’m going to count down from five. At zero, you will wake up remembering everything you experienced. Slowly now, five… four… three… two… one… and zero. You’re wide awake, Alicia.”
“Wow!” Alicia said. She sat up and looked around. She rubbed her eyes. “That was a trip. Gosh, kind of bittersweet.” She took a deep breath and blew it out, then focused on Rochelle. “I saw that package.”
“Yes, you did.”
Savannah moved closer. “Do you suppose that’s what RJ is after?”
“Could be,” Rochelle said.
Savannah smiled and rubbed Alicia’s arm. “Good job, girl.”
“Yeah, easy for you to say,” Alicia quipped. “That was quite a stroll down memory lane.” She giggled. “To recall when I was four years old—that was a surprise.” She looked at Rochelle. “It was so vivid—most of it. Some was vague, but now I’m pretty sure I know what RJ is looking for, and where it might be.”
“You know what it is?” Savannah asked.
Alicia shook her head. “No, just what the package looks like—a canvas or maybe leather bag with handles.”
Savannah looked her in the eyes. “Alicia, I’d like to get Craig Sledge involved. You remember him; he’s our detective friend.”
“Yes, I know who he is.”
“Well, I think he might be able to find out who this RJ or Ron is and stop him before he hurts someone. I mean, you still don’t know exactly where that package is and you don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
Alicia nodded. “Yeah, and I’d rather not have any face-to-face encounters with Ron or RJ.” She shuddered. “As I’m starting to recall, he was pretty scary.”
****
“Hi, Craig,” Savannah said into her phone a little while later. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
“Why are you calling so late?” the detective asked. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, pretty much; at least with our family. But I have a concern and a question regarding a friend.”
“What is it now, Savannah?” Craig griped.
“Do you remember the twin who was kidnapped when she was a baby and reunited a few years ago with her family here in Hammond?”
“Yes. Barbara and Allan Bryant’s daughter. What about her?”
“Well, she’s getting some threats. Someone seems to think she has something of his, and he wants it back.”
“And she doesn’t know who this is?”
“His name’s RJ or Ron. It appears that he was a friend or maybe a relative of the man who kidnapped and raised her. Apparently, he gave Alicia’s father…um…kidnapper, Mr. Mullen something to hold for him and now he’s coming around threatening her because he wants it back. She doesn’t know what it is or where it is and she’s scared. I just wondered if you might know of someone named Ron or RJ possibly with the last name Mullen—you know, as someone who has caused trouble before. Is it familiar?”
“Not off-hand, and that doesn’t give me much to go on, but I’ll see what I can find out. So you believe your friend is in danger?” he asked.
“She sure could be.”
“And you don’t know what this guy’s after?”
“No,” Savannah assured him. “It’s apparently something he left with Alicia’s father probably when she was around four years old.”
“How long ago was that?”
“About thirty years.”
Craig let out a sigh. “Savannah, you’ve given me some difficult assignments, but this one…holy crap, you say thirty years? And you have nothing else to go on?”
“I gave you a name, initials, and a timeframe. Can’t you work with that?”
“Well, let’s see what I can come up with.”
“Oh,” Savannah said, “and under hypnosis, Alicia said…”
“Hypnosis?” he carped. “Don’t tell me this is some hallucination she’s had. I’m not chasing after any hallucinations.”
“Wait, she lived in a house on some farm property—like maybe twenty-five years ago and she recalled her father leaving whatever was in that package with the landowner. She called him Mr. Bart. I think I know about where he lives or lived. It’s between Hammond and Stratton out on the river road. The mailbox looks like a little barn. Know where I mean?”
“Yeah, I think so. Sounds like Harry Barston’s place. He’s a cranky old guy. I’ve had to go out there a couple of times to keep him from shooting what he thought were trespassers. They were actually Fish and Game people checking for fishing licenses along the river.”
“Sounds like a lovely man,” Savannah said sarcastically.
“Yeah. Hey, let me see what I can find out and I’ll get back to you, okay?”
“Thank you, Craig. I really appreciate it.”
****
The following morning Michael walked into the kitchen and interrupted several lively conversations by shouting, “Hey!” Everyone looked up and he said, “I want to know something.”
A couple of people asked, “What?”
He frowned. “Is anyone listening?”
“To what?” Adam asked.
“To each other.” When the others looked confused, Michael said, “It seems like everyone’s talking and no one’s listening.” He chuckled when the din in the room lessened. “Now that’s better?”
“What?” Adam asked.
“The quiet. Do you hear it?”
“Hear what?” Simon asked.
“The silence.”
“Oh, Dad…” Adam started.
Michael interrupted. “While I have you all here, I have something to say. Do you know what today is?”
“Horse riding day!” Simon shouted. He looked at Savannah. “We’re going to ride the horses today, aren’t we?”
She smiled and nodded.
“Okay,” Michael said. “It’s also the day before the day that we’re going camping.”
“Yay!” Adam cheered.
Simon joined Adam. “Yay!” he said, jumping up and down.
Spurred on by the boys, Lily clapped her hands and shouted, “Yay!”
“And do you know what that means?” Michael asked.
“What what means?” Adam asked.
“Yeah,” Simon said.
Michael sighed dramatically and explained slowly, “We’re going camping. What does that mean?”
“It means fishing!” Simon shouted.
“Yeah, fishing,” Adam repeated.
Michael looked at Lily who stared back through big blue eyes. He winked at Peter and Rochelle. “And….” He prompted.
“Hiking?” Adam called out.
“S’mores,” Rochelle said, quietly.
“What’s that?” Simon asked, scrunching up his face.
“A wonderful campfire treat made from marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers.”
“Roasted and melted and all gooey,” Savannah added.
“Wow!” Simon cheered.
“Okay, work with me, gang,” Michael said. “What else does camping mean?”
“Sleeping under the stars,” Peter suggested.
Rochelle was quick to say, “I thought we rented a cabin.”
“But we can sleep outside if we want to,” Peter reminded her.
“Okay, you’ve all listed most of the fun things, what else does it mean when you’re planning a camping trip?” Michael asked.
“Um, what, Dad?” Adam asked.
“Packing, cleaning our camping equipment, loading the trailer, making lists and gathering the things we need like groceries and firewood.” Michael focused on the two boys. “And do you know whose job that is?”
“The adults?” Adam asked, hesitantly.
“Mommy’s,” Lily chirped.
“No,” Michael said.
“No?” Simon asked, looking around at everyone. “Whose, then?”
“All of ours,” Michael announced.
“Oh, Dad,” Adam complained, “we’re going horseback riding. Someone has to exercise the horses.”
Simon nudged Adam. “Good one.”
“Uh-oh,” Michael responded. “Are you saying you won’t have time to help with the work because you’re going off to play all day? Gee, guys, I guess you’d better not go riding then.”
“No, Dad. We already planned it.”
“Yeah, that’s not fair, Mr. Michael,” Simon chimed.
“Is it fair for just one or two people to do all the work so everyone can have fun?” Peter asked.
“Um…” Adam stalled.
“Nope,” Michael said. “In order to make this camping trip fun for everyone, we all have to pitch in and help.” He held up a piece of paper. “I’ve made a chart.”
“Not a chart,” Adam complained. “Mom and my other dad make charts for me and Rose all the time.”
Michael smiled. “Good, so you know how it works.”
“Okay, what do we have to do?” Adam asked, blowing out an impatient sigh.
“Well, I figure the women can do the meal planning and grocery shopping. Okay, gals?”
Savannah and Rochelle nodded, and Rochelle said, “If anyone has a request, just let us know. That’s a good way you all can help. Simon, I know you have some favorite foods. Adam, I’m sure you do, too.”
