Riptide

feeling. "Yes, sir"--
    her voice was steady--"I'm sure."
    "All right, then," Agent Cobb said, looking directly at her.
    "There's nothing to be concerned about. I don't go for the couch
    thing. I prefer the traditional face-to-face method.
    "Now, there are also many different ways to hypnotize someone.
    I use the fixation object method." He pulled a shiny pocket watch
    out of his vest pocket. For a moment he looked embarrassed, then
    shrugged. "It belonged to my grandfather. I've always worn it, just
    discovered a couple of years ago that it was the perfect object for
    me to use to relax people. Now, I want you to sit back and look at
    this watch, Becca. Just listen to the sound of my voice." He started
    talking, nonsense really, his voice low and smooth and never rising,
    never falling, always the same. She stared at the watch that was
    swinging gently back and forth, back and forth. "You will find that
    your eyelids have a tendency to get heavy," he said in that singsong
    soft voice. "That's right, just look at the watch. See how it's moving
    so slowly right before your eyes?"

Agent Cobb continued reciting a familiar litany to everyone in
    the room. His voice stayed low and smooth and very intimate. That
    damned watch kept swinging back and forth, shiny, gold, swinging.
    Adam had to shake his head and look away. He was getting drawn
    under.
    Five minutes later, Becca was still staring at the shiny gold
    pocket watch, listening to Agent Cobb's voice telling her about
    how her eyes were going to close now, how she felt good, and
    comfortable, how she could just let herself drift. But she didn't. She
    tried desperately to relax, to get with the program, but she
    couldn't. All she could see was Sam, that sweet little boy, holding
    out his arms to her, smiling but hardly ever saying anything. Krimakov
    had him. He would kill him, kill him without hesitation,
    without a qualm of regret, if she didn't do something. An innocent
    child, it didn't matter to him, any more than Linda Cartwright had
    mattered. She had to--
    Agent Cobb knew it wasn't working, but he kept swinging the
    watch as he said calmly, in an easy, deep voice, "You were sound
    asleep, right, Becca, the night he took you?"
    "Yes, I was," she said, her voice slow, mimicking his. "I remember
    knowing that I wasn't dreaming, a very good thing. Then I felt
    this prick in my arm and I jerked awake. It was him."
    "But you couldn't make out his features? Could you make out
    anything? Surmise anything from the way he was standing, the way
    he held his arms? His body?"
    She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry."
    "You're not going under, Becca." Scratch sighed. He lowered
    the beautiful gold watch, slipping it easily back into his vest pocket.
    I don't know why it's not working. Usually someone very intelligent,
    very creative, like you are, goes under right away. But you
    didn't."

She knew why. She couldn't tell him, couldn't tell anyone.
    He said in that same easy voice, hitting it right on target, "Something's
    holding you back. Perhaps you know what it is?"When she
    didn't say anything, he looked over at Thomas Matlock. "No go.
    For whatever reason."
    Tellie Hawley nodded. "Okay, then, we ask questions and you
    answer as best you can."
    She nodded and talked. And there wasn't anything at all new or
    earth-shattering. Except--
    "Adam, did anyone find anything in the hem of my nightgown?"
    He shook his head.
    "Then he must have found it," she said. "He let me go to the
    bathroom. I knew I had to do something. I managed to unscrew
    one of those enamel bolts that hold the toilet to the floor. I pulled
    open the hem in my nightgown and worked it in. He must have
    found it."
    "Yes," said Hawley, "he found it. He left the toilet bolt in the
    room, on Agent Mar lane's bed. The techs found it and I read it on
    the collected evidence sheet--'one toilet bolt'--and I just forgot
    about it in all the chaos. Actually when the techs found it, they
    thought some nurse's aide had dropped it and they were laughing
    about it. Well, it wasn't any joke. That proves conclusively it was the
    same guy." He shook his head. "A toilet bolt, a damned toilet bolt."
    "He was taunting us," Thomas said. He got to his feet and began
    pacing the long living room. "I wish to God I knew where he
    was. I'd just put an end to it. Face him, just the two of us."
    Becca said, her voice overloud, too sharp, "No." And everyone
    stared at her. "I will not let you face him alone, Father. No way."
    They took a