bookshelves. A red brick fireplace took up one end of the room, and an old baby grand piano dominated the other, its top draped with a fringed shawl. Every inch of wall space was given over to paintings, French ballet prints, Victorian plates, African masks; every surface was filled with knickknacks, books, doilies, figurines, and even a tarnished Russian samovar. And lamps — there had to be at least ten in the room — everything from a glowing faux Tiffany to a two-foot-tall hula girl topped with a gaudy fifties-era flowered shade.
Dr. Sher saw Amy staring at the hula-girl lamp and went over and touched a switch. The light came on, and a second later, the figurine’s plaster hips began to sway.
Amy let out a gasp of delight.
Dr. Sher looked at Joe. “My late husband and I found that in the Paris flea market.” She gestured to a sinuous red velvet Victorian settee. “Please, make yourself at home.”
Joe took a seat and looked to Amy, who now seemed to be examining the spines of the books. Dr. Sher touched Joe’s hand. “Let her be for a moment so we can talk.”
Dr. Sher pulled a carved chair closer. “Jake said you found Amy at her old home,” Dr. Sher said, keeping her voice low.
“Yes,” Joe said. “She seemed to have a need to get there, but she can’t really tell me why. She said something about waiting for her mother-”
“Jake said her mother was dead,” Dr. Sher interrupted.
Joe nodded. “Yes, and when we found Amy, she said she was waiting for her.”
Joe went on to fill the doctor in on all that had happened with Amy so far, including the fact that other than one bad asthma attack and almost comalike sleep, she seemed otherwise healthy. Mary Sher listened intently, nodding, hands clasped in her lap.
“What is it you need from me exactly, Sheriff Frye?” Dr. Sher asked.
“Call me Joe, please.” Joe glanced at Amy, but she was still lost in the bookshelves. “We need you to evaluate her level of emotional and mental stability. We’ll need this for the courts.”
Dr. Sher nodded. “Jake said her mother might have been murdered by her husband,” she whispered.
Joe let out a small sigh. “We don’t know that for sure. And Amy’s memories are too vague. I’m not even sure they are real.”
“Do you think she was abused?” Dr. Sher asked.
“She said once her father hurt her.” Joe hesitated. “She seems to be afraid of men.”
But even as Joe said that, she had a new thought. Amy didn’t seem to be afraid of Jake Shockey. This morning, when Shockey had come to the hotel to check up on her, Amy had been calm. She had even shaken Shockey’s hand when Joe introduced him.
But Amy still didn’t seem to want to be around Louis. Every time he was near, Amy’s eyes would grow wary. It struck Joe suddenly: Was Amy responding to Louis this way because he was black? The school in Hell… that playground was filled with only white kids. Any school Amy went to in Hudson was probably the same, and she had left school early to take care of her aunt. Before that, she had been isolated on the Brandt farm. Was it possible the girl had never seen a black man before?
She heard the
“Amy? Could you come over here, dear?” Dr. Sher said.
Joe looked back at Dr. Sher. “You want to start now?”
Dr. Sher gave her a gentle smile. “No reason to delay. Why don’t you take a seat over by the piano, Joe?”
Amy came forward. Joe rose, and Dr. Sher motioned for Amy to sit down on the settee. Joe retreated to the piano bench.
“I like your piano,” Amy said.
“Can you play the piano?” Dr. Sher asked.
Amy nodded, smiling. “With my feet.”
“Your feet?”
Amy began pumping her feet up and down.
“There is a player piano in the farmhouse,” Joe said from her corner.
“Ah,” Dr. Sher said.
“My legs were too little to reach, but I saw Momma do it,” Amy said.
Dr. Sher leaned forward. “Do you remember much about living on the farm, Amy?
Amy’s feet stopped moving. “Sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?”
“My memory isn’t very good,” Amy said softly. “I can’t always tell the real stuff from the dream stuff.” Her eyes seemed to be searching the doctor’s face. “Do you know what I mean?”
Dr. Sher nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“And sometimes…” Amy’s voice drifted off.
“Go on, dear.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I am crazy.”
She had been speaking so quietly Joe had to lean forward.
“Are you a doctor?” Amy asked suddenly.
Dr. Sher glanced at Joe, then looked at Amy. “Yes, I am.”
“Can you help me get better?” Amy asked.
“I think so,” Dr. Sher said.
Amy sat back in the settee with a sigh. For a second, Joe wondered if she were going into one of her sleep episodes. But Amy just seemed to be deep in thought.
“Can we talk about the dream you had last night?” Dr. Sher asked. “The one about the barn?”
Amy looked up. Then she nodded slowly.
“Did that feel more like a dream or a real memory?” Dr. Sher asked.
“It was the first time I had that one,” Amy said. She suddenly sat up straighter, again searching the doctor’s face. “But I don’t think it was a dream. I think it was real, and I want to remember it better.”
“It might be hard. You were probably very young.”
“I want to remember,” Amy said, her voice growing agitated. “I
Joe was waiting for Dr. Sher to say “Your mother,” but the doctor was quiet, studying Amy. Maybe confronting the memory of her mother’s murder was too much to put the girl through right now. Joe was about to suggest that they bring the session to an end when Dr. Sher rose, came over to Joe, and bent low.
“Jake told me that Amy trusts you,” the doctor said quietly.
Joe nodded.
“I might be able to access her memories under hypnosis,” Dr. Sher said. “How do you feel about that?”
Joe was impressed with how Dr. Sher had handled things so far. “I’m okay with it, if Amy is,” she said.
Dr. Sher nodded and went back to sit down next to Amy.
She reached over and took her hand. Amy didn’t resist, didn’t even jump at the contact.
“Would you like me to help you remember things better?” Dr. Sher asked.
Amy nodded quickly.
“Do you know what hypnosis is?”
Amy shook her head.
“It’s like going to sleep but being awake enough to tell me what you are dreaming about.”
Amy looked to Joe and then back at the doctor. “Okay,” she said softly.
“I won’t hurt you.”
“I know,” Amy said.
It took only minutes for Dr. Sher to hypnotize Amy. Joe had thought there would be swinging pendulums and hokey words, but the doctor had used only her voice to coax Amy into a sleep state. Joe had read that certain people were more susceptible to hypnosis than others. And she knew that doctors themselves didn’t even agree on its validity. For every doctor who claimed it was a true altered state of consciousness, there was another to
