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By Root 1014 0

a series of possible events. The Lawrences fought over a mysterious letter that terrified Patricia. In anger and fear, Patricia stashed the letter in the desk’s secret compartment. Emily interrupted the fight, she was told to go back to bed and all remains quiet until, perhaps under the ruse of there being an accident down the street, either Patricia or David Lawrence let an unknown male into their house at 10:00 at night. It’s someone they don’t know but someone who is savvy enough to convince them that his plea is legitimate. He then walks alone into their kitchen, supposedly to use the phone. Jane visualized the scene. Knowing that the perp took precautions and covered his feet, hands and face, Jane deduced that he must have quickly done so behind the kitchen door. It all occurred in less than four minutes, which, for Jane, certainly indicated someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Charm yourself into the house, analyze the situation and then get down to the business of killing. Disable the strongest victim with your knife, then start on the second victim. In this case, Jane was now almost positive it was one perp and two knives. That fact spoke volumes as well. To her, it demonstrated that the killer was cunning and knew exactly how to throw off investigators. It also told her that whoever did this had to have the strength to wield two separate knives without cross contamination.

Jane started to put the pieces together. “Two nights ago at the carnival, you were doing okay until you saw the guy with that pig mask over his face.”

“Yeah,” Emily said, still humiliated by the experience.

“I want you to go back to that moment—”

“I don’t want to!”

“Emily, it’s just you and me sitting here. You’re safe. The guy with the pig mask, it obviously triggered something inside you. Something important maybe.”

“It wasn’t the mask, at first. He was wearing all black.

That’s what started it. And he had gloves on. Black gloves.” Emily focused on the man at the carnival. “And there was something shiny in his hand. His right hand. I couldn’t see what it was, but my heart started beating really hard. I had to hold my breath.”

“Why hold your breath?”

Emily tried to fight it, but she felt herself drifting back in time. “I have to be quiet,” she whispered as her breathing became more shallow.

“Why?” Jane asked, hating every second of it.

Emily closed her eyes. “So he doesn’t hear me,” she whispered.

“Where are you?”

There was a long pause before she spoke. “Hiding . . . in my closet. I turned off my Starlight Starbright . . . I have to be quiet . . .”

“How can you see him if you’re in your closet?”

“Because . . . he opened the door and looked in . . .”

“Why doesn’t he see you?”

“I’m hiding under all the pillows . . .”

“He’s dressed in black?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What’s in his hand?”

“I don’t know.” Emily was fully engaged in the memory, hypnotized by Jane’s voice. “I have to be so quiet . . .”

Jane nervously took several puffs on her cigarette, waiting for Emily to make the next move. Suddenly, the child took in a gulp of air, as if she were startled. “What is it?”

“His head’s covered with a black sock . . .” Emily drew her hand to her head, unaware that she was now mimicking the individual instead of witnessing the event. “He’s pulling at the sock. . . .” Emily began to yank at an imaginary sock around her head. “He doesn’t like the sock . . . He’s scratching his face through the sock . . .” Emily scratched helplessly at the imaginary sock on her head and face. “He wants to take it off . . .” Emily grabs the edge of the imaginary sock around her neck and begins to struggle with it. “Get it off!” The child neared hysteria when she got a strong grip on the illusory sock and yanked it off her head. As her head jerked backward, she opened her eyes, slamming back into reality. “Make it stop!” she screamed, standing up on the couch completely disoriented and heading backward over the edge.

Jane lunged toward Emily, pulling her back on to the couch. Emily shook violently as she held onto Jane. When Emily calmed down, Jane gently