Crazy in Chicago (12 page)

But it could also be good for Cody. It would clear up the ambiguity of what happened to him during the missing six weeks, end the torment of not knowing. She knew of more than one person whose mind had been set at ease after finally discovering that he wasn't going crazy, and that he had indeed been abducted by aliens.

She bit her lip and grimaced. Unfortunately, she was too honest to ignore the fact that the confirmation of an alien abduction had also made many abductees more fearful and neurotic than ever.

Still. Roberta paced back and forth across her living room, struggling with the problem of what to do. No doubt she should have told Cody her plans right from the start and attempted to win his agreement to investigate. She should have made it clear that theirs was strictly a professional agreement, and stuck to it despite the mixed-up feelings he provoked in her.

She stopped in the middle of the living room, seeing again the hurt look on his face, hearing the wounded tone of his voice when he'd accused her of using him, of helping him only to further her career.

 
That hurt look had shaken her, especially coming from Cody. Was she really that bad? Was that how she appeared to Cody? A manipulative user who cared only about herself?

Head bowed, she dragged herself to the bedroom. She wanted to tell Cody he was wrong; she wasn't like that. She wanted him to like her. But she also wanted to prove his case and add it to her resume.

She crawled under the coverlet on her bed, turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She'd known from the start she couldn't have Cody both for a case study, and for a friend. But perhaps it didn't matter any more.

With Cody's exit, she no longer had a willing, if unsuspecting, case to investigate. Nor did she have him as friend. She refused to consider which loss hurt the most.

With a groan, she rolled over and pulled the pillow over her head.
 

* * *

Shortly after two in the afternoon the next day, Cody halted in the open door to the office of SUFOW's director. Involuntarily his gaze was drawn to the compelling painting of the alien over Garnet Jones's desk. The huge black eyes stared back at him with a glare that struck Cody as more malicious than ever. As if the creature knew of him and dared him to continue.

Cody shuddered. Imagination was getting the better of him. It didn't help that he hadn't slept at all last night, not a minute since he'd stormed out of Roberta's apartment. He was here now only because it was his best chance to witness a hypnotic regression session with a suspected alien abductee.
 

“Ah, Mr. Walker. There you are.” Garnet, ever the professor in style and manner, rose from an upholstered chair. It was one of a circle of similar chairs that had been set off to one side since Cody's last visit.

Cody scanned the room and his gaze fell upon Roberta. He stiffened. She sat in a pink chintz upholstered chair, wearing some kind of simple, white confection and looking as fresh and innocent as a newborn babe.

As if she could read his thoughts, she looked up and her blue eyes met his. She reddened but did not look away. At least, he thought with a spurt of righteousness, she had the grace to be embarrassed. Though he still didn't understand why it had bothered him so much.

Cody forced himself to focus on Garnet, who had urged him into the room and begun the introductions to two women Cody had not noticed before.
 

The first, a young woman introduced only as Tara, appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen years of age. Shoulder-length bleach blonde hair framed a pleasantly-plump face, with blue eyes and rosebud lips. She wore a modest blue T-shirt and denim skirt, nothing out of the ordinary. But despite her sturdy built, Cody was struck by an impression of fragility, and extreme uncertainty.

He focused more sharply. Was it the ragged cuticles and nails bitten to the quick and the restless way her hands moved about her lap that made her seem so nervous? Or was it the older woman hovering by her side and all but wringing her hands as she shifted from foot to foot?

The older woman resembled Tara and, no surprise, turned out to be her mother. The mother, whose age Cody found difficult to pinpoint, had the same bleached blonde hair as the daughter, and the same, though slightly heavier build. At Garnet's urging, she finally perched on the edge of the chair beside her daughter.

Garnet nodded to Tara and her mother. “This is Cody Walker, the reporter at
The Streeter
I told you about. He will observe this session and likely write about it, but he won't use your names.”

“Thank you for allowing me to attend.” Cody inclined his head.

Tara turned red and squeezed her hands together. Garnet wrinkled his patrician nose, and Cody wondered if the SUFOW director had paid them to attend this session—or whether he would just use Tara's story to gain more money and attention for himself and his organization. The thought filled Cody with distaste.

Garnet cleared his throat. “As you can understand, Tara is a little frightened—she's never been hypnotized before—and her mother is here for moral support.”

Tara's mother smiled nervously, and a bright red blotch appeared on her neck. She, too, squeezed her hands in her lap and chewed on her lip.

Garnet resumed his seat. Cody took the only remaining chair in the circle, next to Roberta. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roberta lean forward, as if she wanted to speak to him. When he didn't turn in her direction, she sighed.

Garnet cleared his throat again. His metal-framed glasses had slipped; he peered down his long, narrow nose at each of them in turn. Finally he focused on Cody.

“I've known Tara for quite some time,” Garnet said. “Her story—the story of her first alien abduction, or at least the first one she's aware of—formed the basis of one of my previous books. You have read Alien Annals?”

At Cody's nod Garnet continued. “Then you're aware of the physical evidence supporting that abduction: The dead, burned grass outside her mother's home, the dog's strange behavior that day, and noises the neighbors heard and lights they saw.”

Cody nodded again. He glanced at Tara. The young woman hung her head, as if the story, or perhaps the attention, embarrassed her. Certainly not the picture of the publicity-hungry woman he had assumed. If anything, from her flaming cheeks and the hands she clasped and unclasped, she looked as if she wished she were anywhere else in the world but here.

“In fact,” continued Garnet, “I have reason to believe that not only Tara, but her father and perhaps her younger sister have been abducted at one time or another, though they have no recollection. However, we know from documented accounts from across the country that it's not unusual for abductions to run in families, and to re-occur to the same person repeatedly.”

“But I don't want to be abducted again!” Tara wailed. She clenched her fists; tears glimmered in her eyes. “I don't want to be abducted,” she choked out.

A wave of sympathy washed over Cody. Whatever had happened to this girl—or whatever she imagined had happened—it had obviously traumatized her. Just like my disappearance. Cody frowned at the unbidden thought.

He was even more surprised to see Garnet take Tara's hand and pat it. “I know how upset you are. That's the way I feel too. But I don't think hiding from the experience helps. We have to face it and try to discover what it means, to us and to the aliens.”

Tara sniffed and Garnet glanced at Cody. “Tara woke up one morning a few weeks ago with an ache between her legs. On closer examination she noticed a smear of dried blood on her right thigh. But she had no visible cuts, and she had menstruated the week before. No blood stained the sheets or other bedding, and the television was still running, with the sound turned off.
 

“None of this would have drawn much attention except for one thing—the incredible sense of dread she experienced. She feared going to bed at night after that. She refused to stay in a room by herself. She feared some terrifying thing would happen to her, though she didn't know what it was.”

“That's right. She's terrified.” Tara's mother nodded. “I don't know what to do with her. She won't go in the car, she can't sleep. She can't keep her food down . . .”

“She won't go in the car, she can't sleep. She can't keep her food down . . .” The account jarred Cody, stilling the pen in his hand. Except for the blood and keeping his food down, Tara's mother could have been talking about him and his experiences over the last couple of weeks. He fidgeted uneasily.

Garnet took control again. “Yes,” he said. “But Tara doesn't remember anything about the events of that night, presumably after she went to sleep. That's why today I'm going to hypnotize her and attempt to take her back to the night of Tuesday, May sixth, and the early morning hours of May the seventh.”

“There's nothing to worry about, Tara.” Roberta's soothing voice at Cody's side made him jump. So typical of Roberta to try to comfort the girl, thought Cody. Just like she'd tried to comfort him. He frowned. None of his experience of Roberta jived with the conniving, selfish woman he'd accused her of being last night. Had he over-reacted, driven by fatigue and foolish pride?

Roberta leaned towards Tara and held her gaze. “Hypnotic regression is a very simple process. Most people enjoy being hypnotized. It helps them remember, almost relive what happened to them. But you don't have to remember or relive anything that's too frightening for you.”

Tara wiped her eyes and gamely tried to smile; she glanced at her mother. The older woman nodded back.

“Well then, let's get started.” Garnet removed a chain from the pocket of his jacket. At the end of the chain hung a fist-sized teardrop of golden amber, shiny and cut like a precious stone.

Garnet set the stone swinging from side to side. The glowing stone caught and reflected the light from the windows and the overhead fixture. Cody squinted at the stone, trying to identify the dark shape within it.

With a start, he recognized it. A spider, perfectly preserved and trapped in the amber hundreds of years ago. A gruesome thing to use to hypnotize a young woman already upset. “I don't think—”

Garnet cut him off. “We're starting. Quiet.” He held the swinging stone before Tara. “Now I want you to sit comfortably and watch the pendulum. Just watch it swing, back and forth, back and forth. You are very comfortable, you are relaxed, watching the amber swing back and forth. You feel safe and warm and fine . . .”

Garnet's voice droned on. Cody yawned. If he wasn't careful, he'd fall asleep and miss everything. He glanced at Roberta. She craned forward in her seat, her eyes rapt, her lips parted in excitement.

Tara's eyes fluttered shut. Her features relaxed and the discomfort etched into her face disappeared. She breathed deeply.

Garnet stopped the pendulum and returned it to his pocket. “Now, Tara, we are going to revisit the night of Tuesday, May sixth. When you awaken, you will remember everything we discussed here, everything you saw, heard, smelled and felt. All right?”

Tara nodded. “Yes, Dr. Jones.”

“Good. Now, it's late in the evening of May the sixth. You've retired to your room, changed into your nightgown, and are watching TV. What time is it?”

“It's after 11:30 p.m. I remember, because I'm watching the Tonight Show. Leonardo DiCaprio, you know, that actor in The Titanic, he's supposed to be on. I like him a lot and hope he won't be on too late. I'm tired, and yawning, and worried I'll fall asleep before he arrives.”

“And does DiCaprio show up?”

“No.” Tara stuck out her lip. “Something happened, his plane delayed or something. But he doesn't show. I turn off the lights, but keep the TV on. I've got the remote control and will turn the TV off in a minute.”

“Do you remember turning the TV off?”

“No. I start to get dozy, you know, how you feel just before you fall asleep. I pull the comforter up higher ‘cause I feel a draft. Then . . . then . . . it's so bright.”

“What's so bright?”

“The light. I can't see. I think it's the TV. But it's too bright. Blinding.”

“You can't see anything?”

“No. Oh, maybe a little. I guess my eyes are adjusting. I look at the end of the bed. There's a . . .”

Tara gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand.

“What do you see Tara?” Garnet's insistent voice cut through the room's silence. “Tell us what you see.”

Tara gulped. “It's . . . it's a . . . a little man, I guess. Or some kind of figure, not like anyone or anything I've seen before. I can just see his head over the foot of the bed. He's got gray skin and big, big, black eyes. He's looking at me.”

“What is he doing?”

“He doesn't do anything.” Tara's voice rose. Tears started to stream down her face. “He doesn't say anything. But I know. I know. I know.”

“What do you know?”

“I know he wants me to go with him. I can't see a mouth. He doesn't have a mouth. But I know. He wants me to go with him. He says I have to go. I don't know how. But I don't want to.” She turned to her mother, her voice that of a little girl. “Mama, don't let him take me. Don't let him.”