Visions in Death (In Death #19)(66)

"I'm hoping I could speak to you." Celina's tired face filled the screen. "I can come to you."

"Something new?"

"No. Just... I'd like a few minutes."

"I'm downtown anyway. I'll come by now."

"Good. Thanks."

"I'll take Sanchez," Eve told Peabody. "See if you can link up with Donnelly, get her statement."

"Works for me. I'll see you later, at dinner. Walking another two blocks." Peabody rubbed her hands together. "I get to eat everything that's not nailed down."

Eve jumped back in the car, headed for SoHo. And called Roarke. "Hi. I'm running a little late."

"Shock and amazement."

"Everybody's got a joke today. I'll be there. I've just got to make another stop first."

"Don't worry about it. If little becomes very, do you prefer to go straight to Charles's, meet me there?"

"I'll let you know, but I hope to hell not. I want a goddamn shower. I think I can make it in an hour. Probably. Around."

"Close enough. I saw your press conference. They ran its entirety, and are following up with various sound bites."

"Goodie."

"I was very proud of you."

"Well... jeez."

"And I thought, if I were the man this woman with the cold and tired eyes was after, I would tremble."

"You wouldn't tremble if I was holding my weapon at your throat, but thanks. I'm going to take this last meet, then I'm heading home."

"Me, too."

"Oh." She brightened a bit. "You're still at work, didn't realize. That's good, that's better. I'm not the only one scrambling. See you."

Pleased with the situation, she pulled up in front of Celina's loft. Even as she crossed to the entrance, Celina's voice came through the intercom.

"I've cleared locks. Come right up."

Anxious, Eve thought as she went inside and entered the elevator. When it reached level two Celina was waiting to open the gate.

"Thanks for coming. Thanks for being so quick."

"I wasn't that far away. What's going on?"

"I need to... can I get you something? Tea? A glass of wine?"

"No. I'm heading home. I've got a thing."

"Oh." Distractedly, Celina brushed a hand through her hair. "Sorry. Let's sit down anyway. I made tea. Needed to keep busy while I waited for you."

Tea, Eve noted, along with little cookies, some neat wedges of cheese. Looked like girl-chat time to her, and she didn't have the time or the inclination. "You said there wasn't anything new."

"I haven't had another vision." She sat, poured tea for herself. "I kept some of my appointments today. Thought I should try. But I ended up canceling the rest after taking the first two. I just can't concentrate."

"Tough on business."

"I can afford the time off. The regulars understand, and as for new clients..." She moved her shoulders, elegantly. "It adds to the mystique. But that's not the point."

"And the point is?"

"I'm getting to it." Celina tilted her head. "Not much on small talk, are you?"

"I figure there's a reason it's called small."

"Suppose you're right. To begin, I watched your media conference. I wasn't going to, but I felt, I thought, I should."

She curled up her legs. "And it made me think."

"It made you think what?"

"I can do more. I should do more. There's a reason I'm getting these visions. I don't know what it is, not specifically, but I know there's a purpose. And while I'm doing the minimum I feel is required of me, I could do more."

She sipped tea, then set the cup down. "I want to discuss going under hypnosis."

Eve lifted her eyebrows. Just when you're ready to bail, she thought, something interesting comes along. "How would that help?"

"There's a part of me that's blocking." Celina touched her hands to either side of her head, then her heart. "Call it a survival mechanism, which I like better than yellow-bellied cowardice. Something in me that doesn't want to know, to see, to remember, so I don't."

"Blocking the way you block picking up impressions or whatever you call them from people without their consent?"

"Not really. That's a conscious act, though it becomes as elemental as breathing. This is subconscious. The human mind is a powerful and efficient tool. We don't use it to its capacity. I don't think we dare."

She picked up one of the little golden cookies she'd set out with the tea, and nibbled. "We are able to block. Trauma victims often do. They're unable or unwilling to remember the trauma, or details of it, because they can't or won't face it. You must see this sort of thing in your work."

And in herself, Eve thought. In all the years she'd blocked out what had happened in that room in Dallas. "Yes."

"Under hypnosis, those blocks can be removed or lowered. I may see more. I know there's more, and I may see it. With the right practitioner... I'd need someone—I'd insist on someone very skilled not only in hypnosis, but in dealing with sensitives. I'd want a medical doctor present as well. I'd want Dr. Mira to do it."