Double Blind (12 page)

“Didn't know she was coming.” My words turned tinny. “But hey, what perfect timing for the three of us to talk.”

My mother turned in the chair, her back regal-straight, and gave my friend a cool nod. “Hello.”

Sherry crossed the threshold, glancing from me to her. “Hello, Ms. Wegland.” She knew my mother hated being called that. Made her feel old.

“Alice. Please.”

I closed the door and ran home the deadbolt. Sherry and my mother eyed each other. Maybe I should just go to bed. Let them fight this thing out.

“Come on.” I tugged at Sherry's sleeve. “Sit down with us.”

She followed me to the couch. I ended up on the side closest to my mother, sandwiched between them. Terrific.

“Mom just got here. After you called.” I shot Sherry a look—
Please be civil
.

“I hopped on the first plane I could.” Mom sounded almost defensive. “After that threatening phone call about Lisa today, and her not telling me what was happening—”

“Threatening phone call?” Sherry rounded her eyes at me.

“It wasn't really. Well, yes it was.” I took a deep breath. Now I'd have to tell both of them everything. I didn't have the strength.

“I
know
it was, since I'm the one who heard it.” Mom's tone edged. “Lisa, I expect—”

“Stop.” I raised my hand, palm out. Mom's words cut off. I hung there, surprised at my own power. She'd actually
listened
. “Okay.” Now what to say? Where did I go from here? “First some ground rules.”

My mother's head drew back. “Ground rules?”

At her raised eyebrows, I almost caved. Then steeled myself. “You know fifty percent of what's happened.” I pointed at Sherry, then turned to Mom. “And you know hardly anything. I have to fill you both in. And I don't want interruptions. I'm too tired for that. And I
really
don't want judgments.”

Sherry gave my mother a hard look.

Mom raised her chin. “I didn't drop my own life and work responsibilities to come here and judge you.”

I locked eyes with her, firming my lips. Couldn't she see her mere showing up unannounced was a judgment that I couldn't take care of myself? “Are we clear?”

Mom leaned back with a huff and plopped her arms on the sides of the chair.

“Is that a yes?”

She paused a long beat. “Yes.”

I tilted my head. “Sherry?”

“Of course.”

Well, just look at me. Handling this situation, even while my insides felt like a limp rag. “Okay.” I leaned back against the couch and laced my hands in my lap. “Mom, three days ago I had a chip implanted in my brain. I'd—”

“What?”

My hand shot up. Mom froze. I calmed myself, then continued in a rush before she could stop me again. I told her the who, what, where, when, and why. She didn't interrupt again. But she did shoot a glance at Sherry as if to say,
You let her do this?
Sherry ignored her.

“The chip is working.” I told Mom how much better I felt. “But in the hospital I started having these strange visions.”

I leaned against the couch and took a breath. Tiredness rushed through me, but I beat it back. I told them everything about the murder, my return to Cognoscenti—was that just this morning?—and Jerry and Clair's response. When I told them Cognoscenti said my chip was a placebo, Sherry gasped.

“Yeah. I know. But I don't believe it.” I went on to the phone call Mom received, and the call I shot back to Jerry. My conversation with Ice Queen. My searches on the Internet. And my final stunning realization that the gory memories were mine forever.

By the time I finished, my mouth ran dry and my shoulders sagged. And I knew my mother would say I'd gone completely nuts.

Pent-up words clearly beat against her tongue.

“Cognoscenti.” The name burst out of her. “That's the company that called, all right. How
dare
they threaten you like that. And through me!”

I gaped at her. Of all the responses she could have shown, anger on my behalf was the last I'd expected.

Mom's lips thinned. “I'll just have to do something about this. Your threat to them wasn't so crazy, Lisa. Maybe we do need the media involved.”

“Uh-uh,” Sherry said. Mom ignored her.

My mother was publicity director for a large tech firm in Denver. She knew all about using the media. But I couldn't focus on that. I could only think—She
believes
me? I didn't want to move for fear I'd break the spell.

Mom's gaze darted around the room—a clear sign she was thinking hard. Her eyes grazed mine, flitted away, then back. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

My shoulders rose. “I just . . . I wasn't sure you'd believe me.”

“Why shouldn't I believe you? My daughter doesn't lie. Besides, it's written all over your face—you're terrified.”

This was almost too much to take in. “Maybe I
am
going crazy. Having panic attacks, like Jerry said.”

Sherry grunted. “Mighty big coincidence, sudden panic attacks right after the surgery.”

Mom pressed her hand against the top of my knee. “I knew before I got here you were in trouble. That's why I came. That phone call was clearly threatening. Companies don't make calls like that unless they're in major hot water. I thought you'd gotten into some whistle-blowing situation. And basically, you have. But I'm here to help you now. I'll find the right investigative reporter—”

“But you can't. Don't you see how Cognoscenti would roll over me? They're too big, and I'm nobody. I don't want my face splashed all over the media as some half insane woman who's mad that she got a ‘placebo.'”

“Lisa.” Mom leaned closer. “Listen to me. I don't ever want to hear you say again that you're a nobody. You're
not
a nobody. You can accomplish whatever you set your mind to.”

My mouth fell open. What had happened to my critical mother? The one who'd always been so disappointed in me?

“Think of all the stories around the world of one person bringing down a company,” she said. “Or changing a law. Making some kind of difference. Or a small group bringing down a corrupt government. It starts with a single man or woman who's got guts, and moves out from there. You're telling me you've now got emotional strength you didn't have a week ago. Do you really believe that?”

“I—yes.”

“And didn't you go through all the trouble of a brain implant in order to change your life? So you could forge ahead with whatever you need to do? Which in this case means stopping a company before it hurts other people.”

I managed a tiny nod.

“Then why aren't you willing to do that?”

Because I was petrified. Because I didn't know what was happening to me.

My mother pressed harder against my knee. “Lisa. You have a choice here. For once in your life, fight.”

Sherry stiffened. “She
has
fought. She's dealt with more than you—”

“I didn't mean that.” Mom glared at Sherry, spots of color forming on her cheeks. “I know she's dealt with a lot. And she did show courage by getting the implant in the first place. But now it's time to use it.”

I felt suddenly light-headed. Where had my energy gone? Up to the ceiling maybe. Spread out on the floor. My vision started to blur.

“Lisa.” Mom grabbed my chin. “Do you
want
to keep being a victim?”

My bleary eyes fought to focus. “No.”

“Then don't be.” Mom stuck her face inches from mine. I could smell her powder. “The Empowerment Chip has worked, but it's got a major flaw. Cognoscenti has lied to you and threatened you. Clearly they've got something to hide. And you may be the only one outside the company who knows it.”

The world dulled. “I need to go to bed.”

“Fine. I'll carry you there myself. Just tell me you're going to fight this thing. I'll be right by your side.”

Oh wonderful.

“Tell me, Lisa.”

“Uh-huh.” My words almost slurred. “Okay.”

My mother shot me a keen look, then let go of my chin. She stood. “Come on.” Her voice gentled. “I'll take you to bed.”

I turned toward Sherry. “You—”

“She can let herself out.” Mom held out her hand to me.

I winced at her curt dismissal of my best friend. Sherry's mouth was pinched. But I had no energy to deal with this tonight. “I'm sorry, Sherry. I'm so tired. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Sure.” She stood.

As my mother helped me to my room, I heard the apartment's front door open and close.

TUESDAY, MARCH 13

Chapter 15

I woke Tuesday morning refreshed from a night of
deep sleep. I couldn't even remember dreaming. And no new visions of a murdered woman had run through my head. No black suitcase.

Except for the memory of my mother's, rolling through my front door.

I groaned. My first thought was to burrow my head beneath my pillow. Stay in bed all day. Instead I pulled myself up and slipped into a robe.

Stumbling into the kitchen, I found Mom already dressed and looking perky, sitting at the table. Her makeup was just so, as was her hair. Didn't she ever just wallow around in her pajamas? Spread before her were my notes on everything I'd seen in the murder visions. I headed toward the coffee she'd made and poured myself a cup. Sat at the table opposite her. Should I say something about Sherry? I didn't want to start an argument first thing in the morning.

“Those aren't complete.” I gestured toward the notepad. “The final visions I told you about last night—I saw them just before you came.”

She peered at me. “You feel better?”

“Yeah.”

“Stronger?”

I couldn't feel any worse than last night. “Uh-huh.”

“Good.” She got up, fetched a pen, and returned. Pushed the last page of my notes toward me. “Add what's missing.”

I gave her a hard look.

“What?”

“Mom. You don't need to command me like some sergeant. I hate it when you do that.”

Whoa, Lisa.
Had I really said that?

Mom held my gaze, her head at a slight tilt, as if assessing me. “All right.” She gestured toward the paper—
so go ahead
.

Well, that was . . . something anyway.

I picked up the pen and forced myself to focus on the last vision—the man's shoes, the garage, the car and its wheels.

Mom read it when I was done. “No license plate?”

“No.”

“Make of the car?”

“I don't know. Other than it's a black SUV.”

She looked out the window, thinking. I drank my coffee, feeling renewed energy flow through me. My mind ran clearer.

Mom leaned back in her chair. “I'm so sorry about this. These are terrible memories for you to carry around.”

“Tell me about it.”

“All the more reason to stop Cognoscenti.”

“I told you I would.”

“You didn't seem to mean it.”

Heat rolled through me. “I was
exhausted
, Mom! Cut me a break. I've just had brain surgery. And I've never had someone else's memory of killing a person invade my head.”

Besides, she'd showed up at my door uninvited. Why couldn't she at least have called first? This was
my
apartment. My life.

Hurt flicked across my mother's forehead, as if she sensed my thoughts. “What do you want from me, Lisa?”

Oh, man, where to begin?

“Do you want me to leave?”

I sighed. “I didn't say that.”

“It's on your face.”

I turned to focus on the counter across the kitchen. Of course I wanted her to leave.

Didn't I?

Mom rose. She wouldn't look at me. “I'll go pack my things.”

“No. Wait.”

She set her coffee cup in the sink, chin high.

“Mom, don't.”

She whirled around, a fist grinding into her hip. “I just wanted to help you! I just wanted to help my daughter after all that's happened to you.”

“Then
help
me.” I stood up, pushing my chair back. “Stand beside me. Not in front, pulling me along. Or in back, pushing me. Don't tell me what to do. Don't make me feel worthless!” Tears crept into my eyes.

Air seeped from her. “Is that what you thought last night?” She waited for an answer, but I couldn't reply. She flicked a look toward the ceiling. “When I insisted you could do whatever you set your mind to—how did that make you feel worthless?'”

My gaze dropped to the table. “It . . . didn't.”

“Then what?”

I raised my eyes to meet my mother's. We faced off across the kitchen, across my lifetime. How to tell her of the memories from childhood that would forever pinch my heart? “You haven't seemed to understand me since I lost the babies, then Ryan. Then the attack.” My voice thickened. “You kept insisting I move back to Denver. That I wasn't getting on my feet quickly enough.”