A WCCY-TV employee at the front gate checked names off a list. Cameras, microphones and other equipment were in place, and a thousand wires snaked through the open area.
Phil Vandegriff went over things one last time with his camera guys, one of whom stood atop a twenty-foot ladder to film the panorama. Since this was Landry Drake’s regular crew, they would be ready for surprises, because that was what Landry was about.
Cate and Tiffany came down the long hallway with Henri Duchamp right behind them, and Landry greeted them. Dr. Little took Tiffany to the recliner where she’d be during the session, and Phil asked her to say a few words so he could adjust the volume on his equipment.
In all the activity Landry had forgotten about Jack. He glanced at his watch. Where was he?
At eight minutes to ten there was a commotion at the front entrance. The clerk raised her voice, but she was no match for the man bellowing that he certainly did have a right to be here. Landry ran down the hallway and saw a handsome African American man who looked like something sent over from central casting. He wore a white three-piece suit, a red bow tie and a bowler hat. He carried a walking stick with the golden head of a dog on top. As unusual as it was, his attire wasn’t his most striking feature. It was his height — the man was over seven feet tall.
“What’s going on?” Landry said.
The flustered clerk replied, “I asked him for his name and ID. He’s not on the list and he says he has no identification.”
The man’s words flowed smoothly. “It’s no problem, my dear. Identification is something I have no use for. I don’t own a car or ride on airplanes. I don’t travel overseas or have a bank account. Well, I mustn’t hold up the crowd. Shall we go inside?”
Landry stepped in front of the man. “Who exactly might you be?”
“Empyrion Richard’s the name. This is my building. I presume I‘m allowed to observe the session.”
Empyrion Richard? What on earth was the man talking about?
He heard the director call, “Places, everyone!” The session was about to begin, and Landry wished he’d hired a security guard.
Landry was out of time and the man seemed harmless enough. He wished Jack were here to babysit, but instead he called to Cate, explained and asked her to keep an eye on him. She found him a seat with the others.
Precisely at ten, Tiffany lay back in the recliner as Dr. Little sat on one side of her and Doc Adams on the other. Phil did one last mic check, said he was ready, and Landry’s director asked if they were good to go.
Landry nodded and wondered again about Jack. He’d been so excited last night. Surely he hadn’t…
The director shouted, “Quiet on the set!” He raised his hand and began a countdown.
Five-four-three-two-one.
As he dropped his hand, Dr. Little began to speak.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
"Tiffany, are you comfortable?"
"Yes."
"Are you ready to begin?"
"Yes."
In a low, soothing voice, Dr. Little asked her to relax and stare into his eyes. He leaned in close as his voice became a whisper, and in less than sixty seconds she closed her eyes. He backed away and used his normal speaking voice.
"Tiffany, are you asleep?"
"Yes."
"Lift your right arm for me, please. Raise it straight up into the air and keep it there."
She raised her arm until it was straight. He turned to the assemblage and said, "This is a test to be sure our subject is in a hypnotic state. If our guests want to see how it works, raise your own arms into the air and keep them there until I ask Tiffany to lower hers."
The observers lifted their arms toward the sky as Dr. Little turned back to Tiffany. "Now I will ask you a few background questions," he said. She gave her name, birth year and place — Denver in 1973 — stated the names of her parents and a sister and said where she lived and worked now.
"Do you know where you are this morning?"
"Yes. I'm in New Orleans."
"Where in that city are you?"
"I'm...I'm in a building. A scary one. I don't like it here."
"There's no reason to be afraid. You're among friends. Let’s take a trip now. We will leave this place and travel back in your mind to places and things you may not have thought about for a long time. Every so often I'll ask you to tell me what you see. Are you ready to take a trip?"
"Yes."
He glanced at his watch and then looked back at the people behind him, none of whose arms were still in the air, although Tiffany's was as straight and rigid as before. "It's been twelve minutes," he said to them. "You couldn't hold your arms up that long. No one could unless you're in a trance." To his subject he said, "You may lower your right arm now, Tiffany." And she rested it at her side.
"I want you to open your mind and see things that have already happened in your life. What do you recall about your fortieth birthday party?"
She and some friends drove to Santa Monica and partied at a hotel on the beach all weekend.
"Now instead of remembering, I want you to actually go there. Let's return to the day you turned forty. Now you're there. You're in Santa Monica. What year is it now, and what's happening around you?"
"It's...it's 2013. Kayla and Michelle are over there at the bar. They're trying to get those guys to come to our table." She cracked a wide smile and held out her hand. "Hi,
