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Richter scratched his 5 o’clock shadow. “Maybe we shouldn’t have warned him.”
Jake shook his head. “A standoff wouldn’t have served anyone. Better to play it safe. Besides, it doesn’t look like anyone’s been here.”
“Now what?” Richter asked.
Jake nodded to the nearest camera mounted on a light pole. “Let’s check with the office. Maybe we can access the security footage.”
Richter nodded. “On it.”
Jake sighed, reaching for his phone to let Dana know the results.
95
Dana satin her leather armchair in her home office, double checking the camera aimed at Claire was recording. She gave the hypnotherapist a nod, and they got started.
Claire lay stretched out on Dana’s worn leather sofa, her socked feet crossed at the ankles. She looked impossibly small laying there, eyes closed, hands folded over her stomach, clutching her eyeglasses. It always struck Dana how young the twenty-five-year-old looked when she wasn’t hiding behind her signature cat eye frames. And now, laying still and alone on the couch made her look as fragile as a child.
“Let’s begin,” the therapist said, instructing Claire to follow her deep breathing technique, before slowly counting her into a hypnotic state.
“10.”
“9.”
“8.”
“7.”
“6.”
“5.”
“4.”
“3.”
“2.”
“1.”
“Claire, are you still with me?”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice relaxed and dreamlike.
“Good. We’re going to take a journey together. You won’t be alone, and no one can hurt you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I want you to imagine a long white hallway lined with doors. Can you picture it?”
“Yes.”
“Behind each door is a memory. We’re going to open the doors I ask you about together. Will you do that with me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I want you to go to the first door and think back to the first time Meredith Kincaid came to visit you at Passages. Can you picture it?”
“Yes,” she said again.
