Mariah Stewart - Cold Truth

“I really do have to,” she told him. “But thanks.”

Denver nodded and closed the door behind him.

“Okay, what do we do first?”

“I want you to get as comfortable in that chair as you can.” Annie looked at the chair Cass was sitting in. “Is it possible to be comfortable in it?”

“I’m fine. Let’s just do it.”

“All right, then. I want you to close your eyes, and concentrate only on the sound of my voice. Don’t think about anything else. Only the sound of my voice. That’s all you hear, Cassie. All you want to hear…”

Annie’s voice dropped slightly lower, but Cass could hear her just fine.

“Let yourself relax, Cassie. Your mind is going to take you to a place where all is calm. My voice is going to take you there. And once you’re there, nothing will matter, except the sound of my voice…”

Cass closed her eyes, and focused on Annie’s words. When Annie told her to let herself drift on the sound, she drifted.

“I want you to start counting backwards from one hundred, very slowly, until you reach twenty-five.”

Cass did.

“You’re there now, Cass. It’s peaceful and you’re safe there. Nothing can hurt you in that place. You can see, but you can’t be seen, do you understand?” Annie’s voice dropped yet lower, her words soft, reassuring. “Cass, if you understand, tell me.”

“I understand.” The words seemed to float from her lips.

“Are you there, then, Cass? Are you feeling peaceful? Are you feeling safe?”

“I am. I’m safe here.”

“Good. Anytime you think you feel anything other than completely safe, you’re to tell me, all right?”

“All right.”

“We’re going to look in on your house, Cass. The house where you and your mother and father and sister lived when you were a little girl. Do you see the house, Cassie?”

She nodded. “I see it.” She did see it.

“What color is the house?”

“It’s brown.”

“Are there shutters at the windows?”

“White ones. With cutouts that look like birds.”

“Can you tell what kind of birds?”

“Seagulls. They’re flying…” She held her hands up, palms together, the fingers pointing outward.

“What else do you see?”

“Flowers. Pink ones by the front door. Mommy made Daddy put something on the wall so they would climb up to the second floor.” Her eyes moved rapidly behind closed lids. “They grew over the door.”

“Are they roses? Pink roses over the door and up the side of the house to the second floor?”

Cass nodded.

“Do you see the roses blooming?”

“Yes.”

“So it must be June, since roses bloom in June.” Annie leaned closer to Cass to continue to reassure her. “I want you to think back to a particular June, Cass. I want you to think about the last time you were in that house. It was June. School had ended. You went to summer camp that year. You and Trish and Lucy, you all went together.”

Cass’s eyelids began to flutter.

“Remember, Cass, you can see, but no one can see you. Do you remember? I promise, no one there can see you.”

Cass’s hands gripped the arms of the chair.

“Do you want to hold on to my hand while you visit there?” Annie held her hands out, but Cass neither opened her eyes nor reached for them.

“You can hold on to me anytime you feel you want to, Cass, remember that. I promise that you’re safe. I will keep you safe.”

Cass nodded.

“On that day, that last day, tell me what you remember about the morning.”

Cass related everything as she had earlier. Waking while it was still dark. Getting up for camp and being excited about the party she would be going to later that day. Everything, from following her mother down the steps to coming home after camp, and going into the house.

“What do you hear when you step inside the house?”

Cass shook her head.

“You don’t hear anything?”

“I don’t know what I hear.”

“What does it sound like?”

“Just…” She waved her hands around, her forehead wrinkled in concentration.

“Commotion?”

“But… quiet somehow… I didn’t know what it was, but the sound, it came from upstairs. I ran up the steps…”

“Were you calling anyone? Were you shouting?”

“I was calling my mommy, but she didn’t answer. Then I saw Trish… she was flying through the air. She hit the wall near Mommy’s bedroom. She wasn’t making any noise. I couldn’t figure out how she could fly.”

Sweat broke out on Cass’s upper lip.

“Then what happened?”

“I ran up the steps, I was calling to her. ‘How did you fly?’” A look of confusion came over her face. “But she was there on the floor…”

Cass swallowed hard.

“… and someone grabbed me around the neck, and picked me up…”

“Cass, when he picked you up, what could you see?”

She shook her head.

“Cassie, I’m going to ask you to pretend that you’re looking down on this, looking down from someplace up above as the man is grabbing you and picking you up.” She took Cass’s hand to reassure her. “What can you see? Can you see what he’s wearing?”

“Blue sleeves, rolled up.” She touched one elbow.

“He was wearing a blue shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows?”

“Yes.”

“Can you see his hands?”

Cass nodded slowly.

“Is he wearing any rings? A watch?”

“No.”

“Does he have anything in either of his hands?”

“He has a knife.” She began to shake.

“Don’t look at the knife, Cass. He’s dropped it, there’s no knife. I want you to concentrate on what I’m saying, all right?”

“All right,” Cass said, though her voice was shaky.

“I want you to tell me what he smells like.”

“Uncle Pete.”

“He smells like your Uncle Pete?” Annie started. “Is he your Uncle Pete?”

“No, he smells like him. Like the stuff he wears when he and Aunt Kimmie go out.”

The same cologne or aftershave her uncle wore. Easy enough to trace.

“Does he speak to you? Does he say anything?”

“He’s shouting, but I don’t understand.” Cass covers her ears with her hands.

“Listen to what he’s saying, Cass. Remember, he can’t see you. He can’t hear you. And we took the knife away from him, remember? He can’t hurt you.”

“I can’t understand him. He’s… shouting. Cursing. He’s angry at me. He’s angry…”

“Cass, is there anything else you see? Anything else you remember about him?”

Cass touched her right index finger to the back of her left hand.

“The bird mark.”

“What does it look like?” Annie asked, thinking Cass had said birthmark.

“Like the one on the letters Mommy sent out. The big bird with the…” Her hands made semi-fists, the fingers held out like claws.

“Bird mark? You’re saying bird mark?”

“Yes.”

Anne Marie felt a jolt. This was it, then, their first real lead.

“Cass, is there anything else you see,” she asked again, “anything else about him that you remember?”

Cass shook her head.

“That’s fine, you did just fine. Now, I’m going to bring you back, just follow my voice back, Cass. I want you to count backwards now, slowly, from twenty-five. When you get to one, you’ll open your eyes… you’ll feel rested and peaceful. Start counting now.”

When she reached one, Cass opened her eyes and blinked.

“How did I do?”

“Just brilliantly. You may have given us exactly what we need, Cass. Now, how do we get Chief Denver back in here?”

“Cass, can you sketch out for me what you saw on the killer’s hand?” Craig Denver asked after Annie related what Cass had told her while under hypnosis.