“Oh my, oh my.” Jackie’s head was close to snapping off if she bent it back any farther. She was staring at the ceiling of the Café Fleurs Grotte. “They have a replica of Michelangelo’s Libyan Sibyl. Her name if Phemonoe.”
Sam stared at her friend. “How do you know all that?”
“Qui ne sait pas du français ?”
“What?” For all the years she had known Jackie, she was unaware she spoke French.
“She said ‘who doesn’t know French?’” The man in the beret grabbed Jackie’s hand and kissed it. “Comment vous faire fait, madame?”
“Très bien, merci.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Christian, this is my friend, Jackie.”
Jackie fanned her face with one hand. “My, my. You are one fine French pastry.”
“Please, your table is ready and Evan is already here.” Christian walked quickly to the corner table while Sam pulled on Jackie’s arm.
“He’s gay,” Sam whispered.
“Of course, sweetie. The gorgeous ones are always gay. Now, who is Evan?”
Christian pulled out their seats and placed menus on the table. “I took the liberty of preparing Li Zhi Hong iced tea for you.”
“That sounds great.” Christian left and Sam introduced Jackie to Doctor Evan Collier. “Doctor Collier is my shrink.”
“Poor boy.” Jackie snapped open the menu with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to sit in on one of Sam’s sessions. I can have it up on YouTube in ten seconds.”
“Fat chance,” Sam said. “I hope I didn’t pull you away from an appointment.”
“My next appointment isn’t until three. I’m all yours.”
Christian brought a tray and set out three glasses of iced tea.”
“Merci, magnifique.” Jackie flashed her Whitney Houston smile.
“Even I understood that.” Sam slipped the paper off of a straw and jammed the straw in the glass. They each selected the mini crab quiche and tartes aux fruits. Once Christian left with their order, Sam turned to Evan. “Tell me about hypnosis.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Do all psychologists use it?”
“It’s post graduate work so no, not all psychologists use it. I don’t, if that is what you are looking for.”
Christian returned with a tray containing a basket of muffins and bread. He set a small bowl of honey butter in front of each of them.
“What do you know about the Morning Glory Clinic?” Sam asked.
Jackie studied the flower floating in her iced tea. “It’s certainly a stupid name.”
Christian folded the tray under one arm. “Actually, the morning glory flower is the symbol for rebirth so the name is quite appropriate.”
“Well, sugar, I stand corrected.” Jackie fished the impatiens flower from her glass and set it on her napkin, tapping it with one long talon as though it were a specimen under a microscope.
“It is edible,” Christian said. “Do let me know if you’d like to graze on more. I’ll go check on your food.”
“I’ve only heard good things about them,” Evan commented. “I have sent several patients once I determined they needed certain help that I was unable to provide.”
“Like hypnosis.”
“Look at it this way. I’m like your primary care physician. Morning Glory is more of a specialist. Think of hypnotherapy as power of suggestion.”
Christian returned with a young waitress who unfolded a stand. Once he placed the tray on the stand, she assisted in distributing their meals. “Just let me know if I can get you anything else,” Christian said.
Jackie tackled her food while Sam continued to pick Evan’s brain. “Power of suggestion is just that, though, isn’t it? It can’t really make you do anything.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard of subliminal messages. Anyone who sits in front of a television screen and watches commercials hardly realizes they are being assaulted with a hypnotic-like suggestion.”
“But they still have the power to purchase or not to purchase. Hypnosis can’t force someone to do something they don’t want to do, right?”
Evan set his fork down and studied Sam’s face. “This is about the suicide, isn’t it? And before you ask, no. I haven’t heard of any cases of anyone being hypnotized to kill themselves much less kill someone else or rob a bank.”
“But isn’t hypnosis a sort of mind control? Look at Patty Hearst.”
“And don’t forget Jim Jones,” Jackie offered. “Anyone who can get a crowd of people to drink poison, that is one mean mind control act.”
Evan caught the eye of a waitress and held up his glass gesturing for a refill. “Now you are talking fear and desire. Fear can influence thoughts and actions. If someone is stripped of all self-control they are easy to manipulate. With desire and love, the ability to persuade people to do something they would never consider doing takes a very strong personality and a roomful of very weak people. Opposites attract, as they say.”
“So if Jim Jones can get people to commit suicide and he didn’t even use hypnosis, why couldn’t hypnosis make people do something they would never dream of doing?”
“There’s a big difference between convincing someone through hypnosis that they are holding a real gun when it is actually plastic and getting a young mother whose life centers around her beautiful nine-month-old baby to jump from an overpass and kill herself.”
Jackie dropped her fork. “Oh my gawd! You think that young woman was hypnotized to kill herself?”
Sam realized she hadn’t touched her food. Truth was she couldn’t get the thought of the victims from her mind. “I saw Marti Johnson’s picture on the wall. She was one of their patients as was Carly Farnswood, another young woman who stripped naked and walked into Lake Michigan one week before her wedding. Both women had everything to live for yet calmly took their own life. Marti left a warm jar of baby food on the counter and a beautiful baby in a high chair.” Sam took a deep breath and fought back the hormonal tears.
“Okay, sugar.” Jackie patted her left arm while Evan grabbed her right hand.
“Sam.” Evan’s voice was soft and low. “Look at me. You are making some bizarre assumptions. I can tell you without a doubt that what you are suggesting is completely impossible.”
“You wouldn’t be hypnotizing me, would you, Doc. Because it doesn’t work on me.” She forced out a laugh and Evan smiled. She shook both of their hands off. “I’m fine.”
“Is there anything wrong with your food, Sam?” Christian asked. “Can I get you something else?”
“No. I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought. Can you wrap it all to go?”
“Sure thing.” Christian motioned for a waitress to clear their table while he grabbed Sam’s plate and carted it off.
“Who owns the Morning Glory Clinic?” Sam asked.
“There are two owners. They have done quite well for themselves having sold at least thirty franchises last year and more scheduled for this year. Young guys in their mid-thirties, but from what I hear the spoons in their mouths growing up weren’t silver but more like platinum. Matthew Bordeau is one of the owners. He and Austin went to high school and college together. There was a huge write up last year on both of them in Shore magazine, the one that highlights all the happenings in this area.”
Sam scribbled both of their names on a napkin. “What is Austin’s last name?”
“Revere. Austin Revere. His father owns the Lake Bluff Country Club.”