Sarah Armstrong: Blood Lines Part 19
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Unlike Dallas, at the Houston rodeo there would be no formidable show of protection around her, no visible barrier of law enforcement circling, like wagon trains in an attack. Instead, wed employ a substantial but more discreet force, dressed to blend in with the crowd. The reason? We were tempting Argus.
"I dont like it," the kid said, as skeptical as if we claimed we had an invisible force field to throw around her, like in those sci-fi movies, the kind that mysteriously bounces off killer rays. "Ill be a sitting duck."
"No, you wont. But lets talk about alternatives," I offered. "What are your suggestions? You dont want to go home to California. You cant stay here. Its not good for my family, and its really not helping. Eventually, you need to leave and reclaim your life. If you let this SOB scare you into obscurity, youll have to walk away from everything you worked hard to build, your entire career, and youll have to remain in hiding. Is that really what you want? And even if you do all that, will he leave you alone?"
"Well, I know one thing," she said. She gulped hard, and added, "I know that I dont want to die."
"Then this plan is your best bet, your only option," I said. "We need Argus to come after you where and when were prepared to protect you. Otherwise, youll never know when h.e.l.l strike, and it could be when youre alone, with no one to help."
"But Ill be out there on the stage, not knowing when h.e.l.l . . ."
"Ca.s.sidy, Ill be close by every minute," I promised. "Every second."
"Will you be on the stage with me?" she asked.
"No, the lieutenant wont, but well all be near, dressed as stagehands, cowboys and cowgirls, spectators, sound techs, and ushers," David explained. "Well have officers all over Reliant Stadium, all intent on keeping you safe and catching this guy."
The kid thought about that, and then frowned. "Okay, but how can you catch him when you dont even know what he looks like?"
None of us answered, because she was right. Collins was a smart kid. Without an ID, our odds of catching Argus werent as rosy as we painted them. Still, as I saw it, she didnt have a choice. Living in fear wasnt an option.
"These types of stalkers, when theyre this committed and this dangerous, well, Ca.s.sidy, they dont just go away," I explained. "This guy is fixated on you. Hes not giving up."
"But Im scared," she said. She sat down hard on the chair next to me and the spindles creaked behind her. The kitchen smelled of the breakfast tacos the captain had brought, egg, sausage, potato, and refried beans wrapped in thick flour tortillas. There were a few on a plate on the table, but the kid didnt grab one. I doubted that she had much of an appet.i.te. The teenager closed her eyes, as if collecting her thoughts, or perhaps praying. For a few moments, no one spoke, not the captain, not David, not our celebrity charge, nor I. In the silence, I thought about what shed said, that we didnt have a face to pin on the stalker. We had a suspect, Jack Shaw, but it was at best a long-shot guess, at worst another total misdirection. Ca.s.sidy was right. Without at the very least a description of the person we were looking for, the odds were against us. It was then that my sleep-deprived brain focused on what had kept me awake, an idea until then not fully formed.
"Ca.s.sidy," I said. "Remember when you told us that in an early e-mail Argus claimed your eyes met at a concert? That you saw him?"
She looked over at me, questioning.
"Yeah. In Atlanta," she said. "But I told you I dont remember anyone from that night. I really dont see much of anything in the crowd, from the stage. I dont see faces. That doesnt help."
"Maybe not," I admitted. "But maybe, just maybe, you did see him. And if you did, maybe theres a way to jog your memory. Im going to make a phone call. If I can pull this together, at least weve got a shot of figuring out who were looking for."
Twenty-eight.
Relax," Dr. Dorin said, in a steady, soothing voice. "Ca.s.sidy, the most important thing is for you to let your mind rest. Concentrate on my voice and relax."
"Yeah, sure," the kid said, sounding doubtful. "Relax with that creep out there stalking me?"
"Breathe," Dorin said, drawing out the word. "One deep breath . . . two . . . three . . . breathe."
In my darkened bedroom later that morning, Ca.s.sidy lay on my bed, on top of my white eyelet comforter, while David and I watched silently from the shadows. Dorin had explained that her first task would be to lead the teenager to an imaginary place, one where she felt safe enough to set aside her anxiety. "Youre in a beautiful meadow, surrounded by a rich forest and the air is thick with oxygen," Dorin said. "Flowers of every color line your path, and the air is scented with lavender. This is a place where you have nothing to fear. No one can harm you while you remain here, and you have no worries. Your only task is rest and relaxation."
Despite the doctors a.s.surances, on the bed, Ca.s.sidy stirred nervously. "Im not feeling it," she said. "Im cold."
I grabbed one of Moms crocheted afghans off the bra.s.s quilt stand in the corner and laid it over the kids slight frame.
"Thanks," she said, never opening her eyes.
"Youre welcome," I whispered. Dr. Dorin shot me a glance, reminding me to keep quiet, but I couldnt help myself. That was the first thank you Id heard come out of the kid. Maybe it was too much to hope for, but she did seem to be letting her guard down, at least a little. While wed waited for Dr. Dorin to arrive, Id watched Ca.s.sidy with Warrior, talking to the foal, brus.h.i.+ng his coat, and almost cooing at him as she tried to rea.s.sure him that all was well. Perhaps she was attempting to convince herself as well that there was nothing to fear and all wouldnt be lost.
"Picture yourself in that meadow, my dear, surrounded by beauty," Dorin said. She still had the stripe of white roots in her dyed dark hair, and she wore what I thought was probably her uniform of sorts, a long skirt with a sensible sweater and dark brown flats. "See yourself near a small stream." At that the therapist turned on a portable CD player, and the room filled with the murmur of a babbling brook, birds high in trees, and the serenity of nature. "Feel the rhythmic motion of a hammock rocking languidly back and forth, back and forth, back and forth."
Ca.s.sidy fidgeted again on the bed. "I cant do this," she whispered. "Maybe Im not good at getting hypnotized."
Dorin sighed. "Ca.s.sidy, I know that youve had to be strong, be on guard," she said. "Even for those who have had less stressful lives, it can be difficult to give power over to someone else and trust they have your best interests at heart. But none of the people here with you would harm you. Do you believe that we all want to help you?"
At first, Ca.s.sidy remained silent. She opened her eyes and looked around the room, at the therapist, at David, and then at me. I smiled at her and she smiled back. Then, she closed her eyes and said in a small voice, "Yeah."
"Then release control," Dorin instructed. "Place yourself temporarily in our care. We will protect you. Listen to my voice and relax. Relax."
"Okay. Ill try," the kid said.
"Dont try," Dorin said, still in that same quiet, nurturing manner. "I cant reach you if youre working to help me. Instead, clear your mind. Breathe deeply, relax, relax, let go of your stress and wipe your mind clean. Just be. Allow yourself to blend into the bed, the mattress. Feel the slight breeze in the air as it skims your body. Imagine yourself in that meadow, a solitary place where youre protected, where youre able to lie on a blanket, close your eyes, and drift away. The sky above is blue and the clouds a pure white."
I suspected that with most subjects, Dr. Dorin didnt have to work quite this hard. It took a full fifteen minutes before the therapist nodded at me. "Ca.s.sidy," Dr. Dorin said. "Can you hear my voice?"
"Yeah," the kid said, lying on the bed, her breathing deep and steady. "I hear you."
"Listen carefully and do as I tell you," Dorin said. "But if you become frightened, if you feel unsafe, remember the meadow. You always have the meadow available to you, and you can will yourself there at any moment."
"The meadow," Ca.s.sidy said. "I have the meadow."
"Thats right. No one can hurt you, because you have your safe place. You can go to the meadow at will, just by deciding you want to, instantly, and no one can follow you. No one can hurt you there," Dorin said. The girl nodded. "Now Im going to take you back in time just a little, to this morning. I want you to tell me where you were and what you did right after waking up."
"I had to go to the bathroom. I was yawning, walking down the hallway, and I pa.s.sed the lieutenants room. I heard her on the telephone," she said. "I heard her talking to Rick, saying I was going to perform at the rodeo. I was upset. I was afraid."
Dorin looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded. "Thats good, Ca.s.sidy," the therapist said. "Now lets go further back into your memory, to the night you performed in Atlanta. The show has just started. Describe what you see."
"I cant see anything," she said. "Its my opening song, and Im wearing my costume, that gold coc.o.o.n, and I cant see through it. I can hear the crowd and the band, but I cant see anything."
"Fast-forward a little, until the coc.o.o.n is gone," Dorin said. "What do you see now?"
Ca.s.sidy paused for a few moments, and then said, "Im looking down at the audience, flying on wires way above them. Im singing, and the girls are reaching up at me. I see colors, lights. I see people below me."
"Look at their faces, Ca.s.sidy," Dorin said. "Isolate the men in the audience. Focus on them and describe them."
"I cant," the kid said, urgently. Agitated, she shook her head, as if looking from face to face in a crowd we couldnt see. "Everything is a blur. I cant focus. I dont see faces. All I see are arms reaching up to me, and I hear the kids screaming over the music. Im scared."
"Slow down, Ca.s.sidy. Remember no one can hurt you. You always have the meadow. You can go there at will. So please, focus. Go into slow motion and focus. Look through the crowd and see if you can pick out a face, a mans face," Dorin said. "Any man. Tell me what he looks like."
"I see the figures of men and women, moms and dads," she said. Her expression changed from fear to one of deep sadness. "Theyre there with their kids. Everyone looks so excited to see me."
"Youre frowning," Dorin said. "Why does that make you sad?"
"Its just," the kid said, "its not important."
"Tell me," Dorin said. "Why does that make you sad?"
"I wonder why theyre so happy."
"Why do you find that surprising, Ca.s.sidy?" Dorin asked. "Arent they all there because of your music? To hear you sing?"
"Yes, theyre there to hear me sing," she said. "It just doesnt seem right."
"Why not?"
"It just doesnt."
"Explain it to me," Dorin said. "Make me understand."
The teenager hesitated, a tear making its way down her pale cheek. "Its hard. I see the kids with their parents, and it makes me sad. I dont have a dad, and my mom hardly noticed me," she said, her voice a low whisper. "I felt like I didnt even exist."
"Why do you think that was?" Dorin asked.
"I was alone so much," Ca.s.sidy said. "Mom was drunk all the time. She never, I never felt like she loved me."
As bad as I felt for the kid, I gave Dorin a look and wound my hand in a circle, hoping shed get the hint to speed things up. The tragedies of Ca.s.sidys life might be interesting to explore in therapy, but this wasnt the time. We didnt have all day, and Id explained to the doctor what we needed.
"That wasnt your fault, my dear," the therapist said, ignoring me. "Alcoholism is a disease. Your mother was sick, and you were a child. You deserved her love, but she was unable to give it. You bear no blame for her illness or her shortcomings."
"It hurts," Ca.s.sidy groaned, and each word bore deep sadness. "Why didnt she love me?"
For a moment, Dorin said nothing. I looked over at David and he shot me a glance, one that reflected the kids pain. It was just too real, too present, too on display. I wondered if it hit the therapist as hard as it had us, or if hearing such admissions from patients made her immune to the depth of a young girls anguish.
"Im sure your mother loved you, Ca.s.sidy," the doctor said, softly, and from the hoa.r.s.eness of her voice I knew that she too was touched. "Your mother was ill. You couldnt change or help her, no matter how hard you tried. It wasnt your fault. None of it was your fault."
"I should have done something," the girl said, and I decided perhaps it was worth not protesting to allow Dorin a few minutes to address what even I could see was an open wound. It was then that Ca.s.sidy uttered the words that must have festered deep inside her for years. "I loved my mom, but I hated her, too. Sometimes I think that I let her die."
"No, Ca.s.sidy, no," Dorin said, her voice pleading. "You were a child. You never had the power to save her."
"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I was a kid. But I was her kid, and I watched her die."
"Ca.s.sidy, listen to me. Children arent responsible for their parents," Dorin said, sounding like a grandmother comforting yet scolding a young child. "Your mother was the adult. Not you. You were never in control. She was there to protect you, not the other way around. Do you understand that, Ca.s.sidy?"
"She was there to protect me," the girl repeated. "I never had control. Then why do I hurt?"
I looked at my watch again, willing the session to go forward.
"You hurt because she was your mother, and you loved her," the therapist said. "Because you wanted to help her. But you couldnt. She was the only one who could help herself."
As much as I wanted to let it go on, we were losing time. I nudged Dorins arm, and she jerked slightly, as if shed forgotten why we were there and that David and I were waiting.
"Now Ca.s.sidy," she said, taking my cue. "Remember what we talked about. Return to that night in Atlanta, performing on the stage. Once again look out into the audience. I want you to focus on the faces, especially those of the men, and tell me about them."
"I told you that I cant see them," Ca.s.sidy said. "Theyre there, and I can see the outlines, but not the faces. Its a blur."
"You cant see any of them?"
"No," she said. "Not with the gold stuff all over me. When I do the coc.o.o.n, I cant wear my contact lenses. That gold stuff hurts my eyes."
"You cant see the audience at all?" Dorin asked.
"I see them," she said. "Im looking at the audience, but without my contact lenses, I cant see faces."
I threw my head back in dismay. The kid had never mentioned not wearing her contact lenses. We had five hours before she was supposed to show up at Reliant Stadium to perform at the rodeo, and suddenly my only plan to ID Argus was hopeless. Sometimes life just doesnt play fair. Its like it leads me down a path and then, bam, its over, my only accomplishment wasting time.
"So you cant see any of the faces of any of the men, any strangers, anyone who doesnt look as if he belongs there?" Dorin asked.
"No," the kid said. "No faces at all, just bodies and arms, and a kind of blurriness where the faces are. And I can hear the crowd shouting my name."
"Wrap it up," I whispered in Dorins ear.
"Ca.s.sidy," the physician said. "I want you to remember what weve talked about here, about your mother and your not being at fault for her death."
"The kids are loud, screaming," she said. "I wish theyd stop."
"Ca.s.sidy, I need you to concentrate on my voice, now, its time to end this-"
"I wonder who that sleaze is," the teenager suddenly remarked. "I havent seen him before."
I put my hand on the docs shoulder and squeezed.
"Who are you talking about?" she asked, pulling free of my grasp. "Tell me about him. Can you see a mans face in the audience?"
"No, I told you. I cant see any of the faces in the audience. But this guys not in the audience. Hes in the wings. Staring at me, with a really sick smile," she said, sounding puzzled. "The guys are reeling me back in, onto the stage, and theyve got me stage right, ten feet from Jake. This guys standing next to the sound mixer, so close I can see his face and that weird smile."
"Who is he?" Dorin asked.
"I dont know, but he looks familiar. He looks like someone I should know."
"Who does he look like?" Dorin asked.
"I dont know," the kid repeated. "He just looks like someone I should know or something. He just seems familiar."
"Whats he doing?" I asked, and Ca.s.sidy jerked.
David put his hand on my leg and his finger to his lips, shus.h.i.+ng me. Before the session started, Dorin had explained that David and I needed to be silent, that even the slightest interruption could disrupt, even end the session. He reached over and nudged me back in my chair. I was so drawn into what was happening, without realizing it Id stood up and leaned over Ca.s.sidy in the bed.
"What is the man doing?" Dorin asked. "The stranger."
Sarah Armstrong: Blood Lines Part 19
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Sarah Armstrong: Blood Lines Part 19 summary
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