Dream of:08 January 1994 "Kidnapping"
My father and I were in the living room of his home (I thought we were in the Gay Street House, but I was unsure). We were on the second floor and I could see the view through the windows. I liked looking through the windows because I was rarely in this section of the house, even though I myself was living in the adjoining room. From my room I had a different view of the street and so I liked seeing what I could from this room.
My father was an attorney, probably in his early 40s. He was dressed in a gray suit and somewhat reminded me of Gerhardt Von Horth (a Venezuelan attorney whom I had met in Dallas). My father hadn't been practicing law long, and he was just now getting involved in some important cases. He was presently working on a murder case.
He was also involved in a case on which I was working. It was unclear who was the actual lawyer, he or I, but we both had a stake in the case. The case involved a kidnapping and we were trying to retrieve the child which had been kidnapped. I felt somehow responsible for the kidnapping due to having not taken adequate safeguards in the case, but my father didn't seem angry with me and he didn't seem to think I was in any way responsible.
My father also had a couple other lawyers who had begun working with him. I asked him if he had a way of ascertaining that there was no conflict of interest, that neither of the other lawyers had represented someone on the other side of a case. He seemed a bit surprised by my question, but he didn't seem concerned.
I was in a cottage where my mother and my sister were also living. Since I had two important legal cases on which I was working, I told my mother and my sister to let me know immediately if I got a call.
I walked into the bedroom, where I felt vulnerable because the shades were up. I was about to pull them down, when I heard the phone ring. I ran out of the room and down the hall toward the kitchen where the phone was. By the time I got there, the phone had stopped ringing and I became concerned that I might have missed an important call. I told my mother and my sister to be sure to answer the phone immediately if it rang again.
As I walked back down the hall, the phone rang again. This time someone answered it. I returned to the kitchen and took the receiver. A woman on the other end spoke to me in Spanish and I responded in Spanish. She wanted to know who I was and I told her. She then wanted to know if everything she told me would be confidential. I told her it would, although I was actually uncertain. I was thinking she might have some information about the kidnapping. If she did, I was unsure I would be able to keep everything confidential.
She continued talking in Spanish and mentioned someone named Ferguson. I tried to remember if Ferguson was the name of the person who had done the kidnapping.
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