Out Of Time (19 page)

“I can’t help it,” he explained. “I’m reading your aura— the atmosphere around you. It’s changing to the most extraordinary colors.”

“Reading my aura?” I asked skeptically.

“Sure. You have colors around you all the time,” he explained. “Angry people have dark colors. Peaceful people have lighter colors. Sometimes it changes, depending on your mood. Like right now. I can tell you’re not attracted to me.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked. “That could give a whole new dimension to the detecting game. Where exactly is the spot you look at to find out if I’m attracted to you or not?” I was imagining a hot-pink glow around my cooter, a little road sign of attraction for the initiated.

“All over. It follows the outline of your body. Actually, being able to read auras can be a real bummer at parties. Sometimes there’s not a single woman there who is attracted to me.”

“Maybe you should look at auras less,” I suggested. “Try looking at their asses like a normal guy.”

He laughed. And he was much, much cuter when he laughed.

The conversation held us until we approached the parking lot of the prison. The familiar constriction of my heart and lungs returned, my palms felt sweaty, my breath came in shallow gusts.

“You really don’t like it here, do you?” Robert asked. “You’re sort of strobing a sickly green right now.”

“I feel a sickly green right now,” I told him. We marched up to the main desk where Herman, the friendly guard, was on duty. He barely gave me a second glance. I must have looked a normal pink to him.

“Don’t stay too long. She’s got a lot of visitors scheduled for today,” he observed. “They’re waiving the usual rules. Guess they figure they’d better hurry.” He realized the tactlessness of his remark. “Sorry,” he apologized to Robert. “I see you’re family. Lots of family checking in.”

“Not much time left,” I agreed. I gave him a smile. “It’s okay, Herman. You’re one of the good guys.”

Robert was smarter than I gave him credit for. He wasted no time once the guards brought Gail into the visiting room. “Cousin!” he said, giving my bewildered client a hug for the benefit of the guard while simultaneously pushing his chair with a foot so that his back would be to the guard windows once he sat down.

Gail stared at him suspiciously as she sat. She looked tired and disheveled, which made two of us. I was willing to bet she’d skipped the morning medication, as requested. “This is nuts,” she said.

I interrupted to head off dissent. “I saw your daughter yesterday,” I said.

She stiffened and looked at me warily. “Did you tell her what was going on?” I could hear her temper lurking beneath the coldness of her voice.

I shook my head. “She already k CShet>

Gail relaxed. “Why did you tell me that you went to see her?” she demanded.

“Because if you don’t want to go through with this for yourself, do it for her,” I urged. “At this point you have nothing to lose.”

She sat back and stared at me for a moment. I held her gaze. She’d done more time behind bars than I’d ever had to do, but my ass was still just as bad as hers. She finally dropped her eyes and looked at Robert. “Is this the guy who’s going to do it?”

“Yup. Robert, meet Gail. Gail, meet Robert.”

“You don’t look like a hypnotist,” she said in a challenging voice.

“You don’t look like a murderer,” he returned. It surprised her into laughing, and the ice was broken. My aura warmed a little toward Robert right about then.

“Have you ever been hypnotized before?” he asked Gail.

“Hell no,” she said, indignant.

“It won’t be like you expect,” he explained. “You’ll still be aware of where you are. You’ll still have a feeling of being here in this room. But you’re going to see things at a different level. Like you’re underwater or something. And you’ll be very relaxed.”

“That’s cool,” Gail said. “It sounds like Valium.”

“Big difference,” Robert pointed out. “I’m going to be removing barriers to some feelings that you may have,” he warned her. “Not blocking them. You’re going to experience many emotions. You may feel overwhelmed. Please understand that your mind protects you. I’ll be protecting you, too. If I think you’re in any danger of psychological damage, I’ll stop the session. So don’t worry.”

“Hey, buddy,” Gail replied, “they want to kill me in two weeks. A little psychological damage isn’t going to make much difference.”

Poor Robert looked a bit taken aback at that, but I was even more surprised. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Gail was flirting with him.

Oblivious, Robert went about his business. “I’m going to use repetitive motion to put you under,” he explained. “Just follow my index finger.”

I und Cowtspan>

Besides, I was in charge of the questions.

“How do you feel?” Robert asked Gail, his voice deep and gentle.

“This is wild,” she murmured back. Her voice was lower than usual, and the pacing was disjointed, as if the words had to hit her own eardrums and bounce off before the rest of us could hear. She was sitting erect, but her shoulders slumped and her hands fell open, slack on the tabletop. Her eyes were dreamy, and her mouth parted slightly as she stared at Robert’s moving finger. “My legs feel very… silly,” she said and giggled. I exchanged a glance with Robert. Gail giggling was not what I had in mind. He nodded.

Quickly, I wrote down the first series of questions for him to ask.

“I’m going to bring you back to the night your husband died,” Robert said. Gail stiffened. “To early evening,” he quickly explained. “Long before your husband was shot.”

Gail said nothing.

“Do you remember being at the bar that night?” Robert asked, checking my notes. “You’re at the Lone Wolf bar. Tell me what you see.”

She stared at the tabletop, seeing another place and time. “People are looking at me because I’m sitting alone. I’ve been waiting a long time for Roy to show up and I know I’m drunk, but there’s nothing else to do.” She frowned. “My mother’s at home with Brittany and she’s going to be mad if I show up late. She’ll be able to tell I’m drunk. Roy said he would give me a ride home. I don’t have any other way—” She stopped. “There he is. With the guys. Oh, damn. Roy’s shirt is dirty.” She sounded baffled. “I ironed it this morning and it was perfect. He spilled ketchup on the front pocket.”

“Who else is there with Roy?” Robert asked as I took notes.

Her eyes searched an invisible bar. “George is there. He’s always there when Roy is. And that guy Pete. He works with them. Haven’t seen him in a while. And some guys I don’t know. Roy doesn’t like to be alone with me anymore.” Her face grew sad. “I’ve gotten so fat. I know Roy hates it. God, I finished another drink. Roy knows I’m drunk. He’s mad at me. I can tell by the way he looks at me I disgust him. But I want another drink.”

“Does the waitres Cs t drunk,s bring you another drink?” Robert asked. Gail nodded.

I scribbled another question. Robert looked perplexed, then understood. “Who else is drinking?” he asked.

“Everyone else,” she said. “That’s all we do. We sit and drink. They just drink slower than me.”

“Let’s go forward an hour or so. What are you talking about right now?” Robert asked. “Is Roy talking to his friends?”

She nodded dreamily. “Roy’s talking to George about the fishing cabin,” she said. “Pete’s not there. He’s at the bar getting another drink. He never orders from the waitress. He’s too cheap to leave a tip. I don’t like Pete much. I wish Roy wouldn’t have him around.” She paused. “Roy wants to go up to the cabin with George in the morning. He says it’s important. It will be safe up there.”

“What will be safe?” Robert interrupted, reading my scrawled note.

Gail shrugged. “Don’t know. Besides, Roy can’t go to the cabin. We have a family reunion. I promised Brittany we’d all go together. I tell Roy that. But now he’s mad. He’s going to yell.” She was silent for a moment. “People are looking. We’re being too loud. But I don’t care. It’s not fair. Roy promised Brittany. He knows I’m right. I can tell by his face.”

“What does Roy do now?” Robert asked her. “Does he say he’s mad at you?”

Gail looked vaguely surprised, the memory still perplexing her. “He ignores me.” Her look changed to hurt. “He’s talking to George again now. Whispering about something. He doesn’t want me or Pete to hear. I’m not part of his life anymore.” She paused. “But I can hear a little bit. George is afraid.”

“Afraid?” Robert asked. “Of what?”

“I don’t know,” Gail said. “I can’t hear. The bar is too noisy. George looks afraid.” She was quiet, listening intently to words said long ago. “George said something about trouble. Oh, no, they can tell I’m trying to listen.” She shifted in her chair. “Where is that stupid waitress? I want another drink.”

After more coaxing failed to produce anything useful, Robert read my notes and switched direction. “I’m going to bring you forward to a little later,” he said, following my instructions. “You’re still at the bar. But it’s not a happy time anymore. You and Roy are fighting again.” Gail’s face contorted, first with anger, then with pain. Emotions flickered across her face as if she were watching a movie the rest of us could not see.

“What are you fighting about?” Robert asked. “It’s okay to tell me. You’re just remembering. No one ca Cng.“Tahoman hurt you.”

“Someone sent me over a drink,” she said. “Roy is mad about it even though we’re getting a divorce. The waitress said that a guy at the bar sent it. I stood up to see who it was but the waitress said he had gone. She said he was really cute. It serves Roy right, he’s ignored me all night. But it makes me sad that the waitress doesn’t realize Roy and I are together. She’d never have brought it over if she thought we were married. I know we’re not really together anymore but still…” Her voice grew sad. “I wish we could work it out.”

“Roy is angry about the drink?”

Gail nodded. “He wants me to send it back. That’s stupid. The guy is gone. I’m going to drink it down before Roy can do anything.” Gail was quiet for moment, then giggled. “It’s gone. Roy can’t do anything about it. He’s angry. He’s shouting at me. I’m yelling back. I tell him that Mama is home with Brittany. She’s going to be really mad. We ought to leave, but Roy won’t go. He’s still talking to George. All they do is whisper. Pete is leaving. He says he’s in trouble with his wife. What about me? I’m in trouble with my mother. I tell Roy that and he gets very angry.” Suddenly, her dreamy voice changed to one of anger and she began cursing the tabletop like a drunken sailor. I looked up, alarmed, at the guard window. No one seemed to notice. For a few moments, Gail continued to argue with the tabletop. None of it was helpful. I motioned for Robert to bring her along.

“Gail,” he said sharply. She fell silent. “Let’s go even farther forward in the evening. To when it was time for you to go home.”

“Roy thinks he’s going to drive.” She laughed, and the sound was ugly. “No way. He’s had more than me. He just won’t admit it. He’s trying to grab the keys.” She lifted a hand in the air. “No way he can have them.” A frown crossed her face and her lower lip stuck out in a pout. “No fair. George grabbed the keys and gave them to Roy. They’re all against me. They always are. I’m not his partners. I’m just the wife. And not even that anymore. What do I count?” Her face grew dark.

“What is it?” Robert asked anxiously. “What’s happening?”

“My legs feel funny,” Gail explained. “Rubbery. My mouth is dry. I need another drink but Roy wants to go home.” Her voice faltered. “It’s hard to walk. Maybe I counted wrong….” Her voice trailed off. We waited, but she was silent.

“Gail?” Robert asked. “Where are you now?” She did not reply.

I scribbled on the pad. “Gail,” Robert said in a firm voice. “It’s a little later. You’re home now. Are you at home right now? Do you remember?”

“Mama is really angry at me. She’s yelling. Where is she going?” Her face crumpled, and for a moment, I was afraid Gail was going to start crying. Inst C cr theead, anger took over. “She about broke the door on the way out. I’m calling her in the morning to tell her so. I hear her car in the driveway. She’s driving too fast. She’ll still be mad at me tomorrow. I can’t deal with it. My stomach hurts. I think I might be sick.” Her voice trailed off and she sat in silence, staring at Robert.

“Gail?” Robert asked. “What are you doing right now?”

She did not answer.

“Gail, pretend there’s a big black theater curtain in front of the scene,” Robert said. “I’m going to count to three and when I get to three, I’m going to raise that curtain. When I do that, I want you to tell me what you see.”

Gail nodded, and Robert counted slowly to three. But when he was done, Gail simply continued to stare at the tabletop. “Gail?” Robert asked more softly. “What do you see?”

She did not reply.

Robert turned to me. “That’s it for that night,” he said firmly. “She won’t go back. I can’t push her. It may be she was too out of it to know what happened.”

I sighed and showed him the next series of questions. I wanted to learn more about the prison visits from the Durham police officers.

“Gail,” Robert said, his voice sharp again. She sat up straight. “We’re leaving that night behind. I want to take you forward a long time now. Past the trial, past coming to jail.”