“Can he hear me talk?”
“No, Taylor,” Dr.Gleason said. “Only Nate and I can hear you.”
“Okay. He has glasses. You know, like wire ones.”
“That’s good, Taylor. This is Nate again. Can you see what color his eyes or hair are?”
“His hair is yellow.”
Was yellow how a six-year-old would describe blond? “What about his eyes? What color are they?”
“Brown. He’s sitting on the bed, Nate. I don’t want him to look at me.”
“Is he talking to you, sweetheart?”
“He said ... He said that I’m such a pretty girl.”
Christ. Nate took a deep breath, willing the rage away. He could be angry later, but right now wasn’t the time for it. “Remember that I won’t let him hurt you, Taylor.” At least he could promise her that much. “What’s he doing now?
“He’s rubbing my neck with his fingers. He said I shouldn’t cry for my mommy. That she’s now an angel in heaven. He said he saved her and he’ll save me.” She started crying. “I want my mommy.”
“Let’s stop this,” Nate said, unable to handle listening to her cry. “Can you make her remember without feeling like she’s living through it again?”
“I’ll plant the suggestion, but I can’t guarantee exactly how she’ll remember the event.”
“Just bring her out of it.”
“Rosie!” Taylor yelled.
“Do it now,” Nate said, knowing what was coming. He’d learned all Taylor knew, and now Rosie had arrived with her bat in hand. The next time he saw the tiny woman, he was going to give her a crushing hug for saving Taylor.
“Blue, Taylor,” Dr.Gleason said. She immediately stopped crying. “You will listen to me now. When I wake you up, you will remembereverything, but you will be at peace knowing your mother is in a better place. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what you understand.”
“That Mommy’s in a better place, and I’m at peace.”
“Very good. Now, I’m going to slowly count to ten. With each number, you will feel yourself growing older as you gently begin to wake up. With each number, you will feel more at peace. When I get to ten, you will open your eyes, and you will remember that you are at peace because your mother is in a better place. Do you understand, Taylor?”
“Yes.”
“Very good. One. You are starting to gently awake. Two. You are beginning to feel the energy returning to your body. Three ...”
Nate kept his gaze on Taylor as Dr.Gleason brought her out of her trance. He didn’t understand how any of this worked, but he hoped that the suggestion to be at peace took hold. They hadn’t gotten a name, but at least they had a partial description to work with.
“Ten,” Dr.Gleason said. “Wake up, Taylor, and open your eyes.”
Nate put his hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”
She blinked, her eyes focusing on him. “I remember everything, but I’m ...” She paused, her gaze going distant, as if taking a mental inventory. After a few seconds, she nodded, giving him a small smile. “I’m fine. Really.”
Nate let out a sigh of relief. He’d been afraid that she’d wake up and be sad or distressed. “I know it was hard to go back to that night, but you did good.”
“I can describe him.”
“Excellent. I’ll make arrangements for you to sit down with the police department’s sketch artist—tomorrow, if she’s available.”