The man in uniform had come that night. Michelle didn’t remember seeing him before. She must have always been asleep when he came. But that night her mom was very nervous and kept Michelle with her. Her mother told the man she didn’t want to see him; that he had to leave. He thought she was joking at first, and when it was apparent that she wasn’t he turned angry. He started taking off his clothes. When he reached for Michelle’s mother, she told Michelle to run. The man started pulling her mom’s clothes off. Her mom was trying to stop him but he was too strong. He was forcing her down on the floor.

It had taken Michelle only a second to reach it. She had sometimes held her father’s gun when it was unloaded of course. She pulled the soldier’s gun from the holster he had thrown on the sofa with his other clothes. She had pointed it at his back and fired one time. A big red mark appeared on the man’s back, dead center. He had died quietly, slumping over on top of Michelle’s mother. The woman was so shocked she’d fainted.

“I killed him. I killed a man.” Tears came down Michelle’s face as she spoke about this long-buried event in her life.

She had been standing there with the pistol in her hand when the door had opened and her father came in. Michelle didn’t know why he had come home early but he had. He saw what had happened, took the gun from Michelle and pulled the man’s body off his wife. He tried to revive her, but she was still unconscious. He carried her up to bed, ran back down and took Michelle by the hand, whispering gently to her.

“He took my hand,” Michelle said in a small voice. “He said he had to go away for a while, but he would be back. I started screaming, screaming for him to not leave me. I grabbed his leg, I wouldn’t let go. I wouldn’t. Then he said he was going to take me with him. That we were going for a ride. He put me in the front seat of his car. Then he went back inside and carried the man out and put him on the floor in the back.”

“Why not the trunk?” Horatio said.

“It was full of junk,” Michelle immediately answered. “So, Daddy put the man in the back. I saw his face. His eyes were still open. He was dead. I knew he was dead because I shot him. I know what happens when you get shot. You die. You always die.”

“What did your daddy do next?” Horatio asked quietly.

“He put newspaper over the man. And an old coat and some boxes, whatever he could find. But I could still see the man’s eyes looking at me. I started crying and told Daddy. Daddy, I can still see the man’s eyes, he’s looking at me. Make him stop looking at me.”

“And what did your daddy do?”

“He put more stuff on him. More stuff until I couldn’t see him anymore. No more eyes staring at me.”

“And your daddy drove somewhere?”

“Up in the mountains. He parked the car and went away for a bit. But he promised me he’d be back. And he did. He came back.”

“Without the man?”

Michelle’s breath caught in her throat and then she sobbed, “He took the man away. But I couldn’t look down at the floor. Because he might be there. He might be there looking at me.” She bent over in her anguish.

“Take a rest, Michelle,” Horatio instructed. “Rest for a few moments, it’s all right. None of this can hurt you. The man is not coming back. You can’t see him anymore.”

She straightened up and finally the cries stopped.

Horatio said, “Are you ready to continue?”

Composed, she nodded and said, “And then we drove home to Mom. My daddy drove me home.”

“Was she awake then?”

Michelle nodded. “She was crying. She and Daddy talked. Daddy was mad. Madder than ever. They didn’t think that I could hear, but I could. Then Daddy came and talked to me. He said he and Mom loved me. He said everything that had happened was a bad dream. A nightmare, he said.

He told me to forget it. Never to talk about it.” She started crying again. “And I never did. I promise, Daddy, I never did tell anybody. I swear.” She sobbed heavily. “I killed him. I killed that man.”

“Take another rest, Michelle,” Horatio said quickly and she sat back in her chair with the tears dampening her face.

Horatio knew that what was destroying Michelle was keeping this all inside. It was like a wound that had never been cleaned; the infection just built until it became lethal. She’d carried the knowledge of her mother’s adultery and her father’s covering up a death with her all this time. And yet Horatio knew that paled in comparison with the guilt she must feel for killing another human being.

He recalled something she had blurted out when he had been at Babbage Town; that maybe her problem stemmed from her brutally murdering someone when she was six. Horatio had thought she was being a smart-ass, but her subconscious had been talking to him. He’d just been too slow to see it.

Horatio didn’t believe that Michelle saw the face staring at her from the floor of her truck or bedroom. He didn’t believe she saw anything. It was more likely that she sensed something terrible, but didn’t know what. Her reaction had been to cover it up, physically doing what she was also psychologically attempting.

Horatio waited a few more seconds and then said, “Okay, Michelle, can you tell me about the rose hedge?”

“Daddy cut it down one night. I saw him from my window.”

Horatio sat back and recalled that Frank Maxwell had planted that hedge as an anniversary present for his wife. Apparently, the Maxwells had gotten through this nightmare by simply burying it. And yet somewhere out there a family had been wondering for nearly thirty years what had happened to the dead man. And all these years his bones had been lying somewhere up in the Tennessee hills. One day, the Maxwells would have to face what they’d done, at least in the complicated chambers of their own minds if not a court of law. He looked back at Michelle. “You just rest now. Just rest.”

He left the room and spoke with Sean, but didn’t tell him anything of what Michelle had revealed. “And I can’t tell her either,” he informed Sean.

“So what good has it done?”

“By her subconscious revealing what it has, it may relieve pressure on her conscious being. And I can tailor treatment that will more likely help her than not. In fact with another hypnosis session I can plant certain suggestions in her subconscious that may take care of the problem entirely.”

“Why not do it now?”

“Doing it now could put a strain on her subconscious that might prove harmful.”

“What can I do?”

“You can be more understanding of her little quirks. That would be a start.”

Horatio returned to his office and slowly brought Michelle out of the trance.

“Well, what did I say?” she said anxiously.

Horatio said, “You know, I think we’ve made real progress today.”

Michelle snapped, “You’re not going to tell me, are you, you little shit!”

“Now there’s the Michelle I’ve come to love and fear.”

After leaving Horatio, Michelle said to Sean, “Are you or are you not going to tell me?”

“I can’t because he didn’t tell me either.”

“Come on, do you really expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Can’t you tell me anything?”

“Yes. I will never kid you about being a slob again.”

“That’s it? I pour my soul out for that.”

“It’s the best I can do.”

“I can’t believe this.”

He put his arm around her. “All right, I can tell you something else. But I need to give you something first.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out the emerald he’d taken from Lord Dunmore’s house. He’d had it mounted on a necklace for her.

When Michelle’s eyes widened at the sight of it he said awkwardly, “Uh, it didn’t seem right that you walked away with nothing from the treasure.” He helped her put it on.

“Sean, it’s beautiful. But what did you want to tell me?”