therapists’ offices she’d seen from the inside over the years. From the framed cowboy art, to the saddle-tan leather overstuffed chairs, the den-size area would’ve made the perfect setting for a John Wayne western, an episode of Bonanza, a book written by Louis L’Amour.
She did her best to imagine that’s where she was, in a ranch house on the plains, with cattle penned for branding, hands chewing chaws of tobacco, horses corralled and ready for a ride. The only thing that ruined the fantasy was the big picture window behind the half-drawn blinds. No one had told her it was one-way glass, but she knew it was. Knew, too, that Kell would be on the other side while she went back to a place she’d never expected to revisit.
In the deepest part of herself, she knew she was doing the right thing. Knowing so didn’t make the process any easier, but interestingly, having Kell there did. Examining why he made all the difference would mean exposing thoughts that were no one’s business, and since she was here to open a vein and bleed for the benefit of strangers, she just accepted his strength without question. She even smiled to herself while she did so, breathing deeply to settle her nerves, and sent him a silent thank-you she hoped his heart could hear.
“Miss Danby? Are you comfortable? There’s a quilted lap throw folded on the lower shelf of the table there if you’re cold.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Jamie said to the female technician who would be observing the session and monitoring the recording equipment. From her seat in the recliner against the back wall, Jamie had a full view of Kell’s window and the chair from which the male DPS officer would be conducting the session. A second officer would join them, strictly as an impartial observer.
With a nod, the tech moved to her position, a desk situated off to the side, and the two officers, a Sergeant Jay Ready and a Captain Norm Greenley, entered the room. Once introductions had been made, Ready moved to a chair in the corner, easing the door closed behind him, while Greenley, the hypnotist, signaled to the technician to begin the tapes. He gave Jamie a smile.
About sixty, he was dressed similarly to Kell, in boots and jeans and a western-cut dress shirt of starched khaki. His mustache was thick and as white as his hair, his face ruddy, his skin pocked, a testament to many years spent in the sun. He wore a simple wedding band on his left hand, a hefty gold University of Texas class ring on his right.
When he sat in the other recliner, Jamie found her fingers digging into the armrests of hers, her body stiff, her neck and jaw tight, her head beginning to ache. Telling herself to relax didn’t do a bit of good. Her heart was racing, her skin tingling, her stomach threatening to heave up her coffee-and-muffin breakfast.
Captain Greenley squared one leg over the other, folded back the cover of a legal portfolio and pulled a pen from his shirt pocket. He clicked the end and gave the time and date for the tape. “I’m Captain Norman Greenley with the Texas Department of Public Safety. I’m here in Midland, Texas, at the Texas Rangers Company E headquarters, along with media technician Megan Holly and Sergeant Jay Ready. The purpose of this recording is to document an investigative-hypnosis interview with Miss Jamie Danby of Weldon, Texas, also present. Ranger Sergeant Kellen Harding, of the UCIT, is observing from the adjoining room.”
For the next thirty minutes, Captain Greenley engaged Jamie in what he explained was a prehypnosis interview. He stated for the record the few basic facts Kell had told him about the case, and established by questioning Jamie that the two of them had not met prior to today.
She listened intently as he advised her of his training and credentials, making sure she understood that he was certified and authorized to conduct the interview, and doing it all in a kindly, genial manner, his tone what she thought of as
She did her best to imagine that’s where she was, in a ranch house on the plains, with cattle penned for branding, hands chewing chaws of tobacco, horses corralled and ready for a ride. The only thing that ruined the fantasy was the big picture window behind the half-drawn blinds. No one had told her it was one-way glass, but she knew it was. Knew, too, that Kell would be on the other side while she went back to a place she’d never expected to revisit.
In the deepest part of herself, she knew she was doing the right thing. Knowing so didn’t make the process any easier, but interestingly, having Kell there did. Examining why he made all the difference would mean exposing thoughts that were no one’s business, and since she was here to open a vein and bleed for the benefit of strangers, she just accepted his strength without question. She even smiled to herself while she did so, breathing deeply to settle her nerves, and sent him a silent thank-you she hoped his heart could hear.
“Miss Danby? Are you comfortable? There’s a quilted lap throw folded on the lower shelf of the table there if you’re cold.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Jamie said to the female technician who would be observing the session and monitoring the recording equipment. From her seat in the recliner against the back wall, Jamie had a full view of Kell’s window and the chair from which the male DPS officer would be conducting the session. A second officer would join them, strictly as an impartial observer.
With a nod, the tech moved to her position, a desk situated off to the side, and the two officers, a Sergeant Jay Ready and a Captain Norm Greenley, entered the room. Once introductions had been made, Ready moved to a chair in the corner, easing the door closed behind him, while Greenley, the hypnotist, signaled to the technician to begin the tapes. He gave Jamie a smile.
About sixty, he was dressed similarly to Kell, in boots and jeans and a western-cut dress shirt of starched khaki. His mustache was thick and as white as his hair, his face ruddy, his skin pocked, a testament to many years spent in the sun. He wore a simple wedding band on his left hand, a hefty gold University of Texas class ring on his right.
When he sat in the other recliner, Jamie found her fingers digging into the armrests of hers, her body stiff, her neck and jaw tight, her head beginning to ache. Telling herself to relax didn’t do a bit of good. Her heart was racing, her skin tingling, her stomach threatening to heave up her coffee-and-muffin breakfast.
Captain Greenley squared one leg over the other, folded back the cover of a legal portfolio and pulled a pen from his shirt pocket. He clicked the end and gave the time and date for the tape. “I’m Captain Norman Greenley with the Texas Department of Public Safety. I’m here in Midland, Texas, at the Texas Rangers Company E headquarters, along with media technician Megan Holly and Sergeant Jay Ready. The purpose of this recording is to document an investigative-hypnosis interview with Miss Jamie Danby of Weldon, Texas, also present. Ranger Sergeant Kellen Harding, of the UCIT, is observing from the adjoining room.”
For the next thirty minutes, Captain Greenley engaged Jamie in what he explained was a prehypnosis interview. He stated for the record the few basic facts Kell had told him about the case, and established by questioning Jamie that the two of them had not met prior to today.
She listened intently as he advised her of his training and credentials, making sure she understood that he was certified and authorized to conduct the interview, and doing it all in a kindly, genial manner, his tone what she thought of as
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