by Sheila Lowe
For a sickening moment, facing Jenna’s smoldering rage, she was afraid that her twin would physically attack her.
Then Jenna found the book of matches.
In three quick strides Jessica closed the space between them. Seizing her sister’s shoulders, she gave her a sharp shake. “Stop it! Do you hear me? Jenna!”
The slim body stiffened under her touch. They stared at each other. Jenna’s gaze was as empty as a bottomless pool.
Gradually, the emptiness cleared, replaced by confusion. She covered her face with her hands. “What’s wrong with me, Jess? Oh my God, what did they do to me? I think I’m going crazy.”
t h i r t y
Jessica closed the bedroom door behind her and began the sad task of sorting the less badly damaged items that might be repaired from those that would have to be thrown out. She had coaxed Jenna back to bed with promises of tidying up the living room so that her sister would not have to look at the destruction wrought by Nguyen’s men.
As she worked, the echoes of Jenna’s question hung in the air: What in hell did they do to me? And Jessica’s own question: Why did they let us go?
She set aside the teddy bear and its torn limbs, determined to sew them back on. She was no seamstress, but she would do her best. The Belle figurine was a total loss. The loveseat cushions would have to be re-upholstered.
Still reeling from the jolts of the past sixteen hours, Jessica numbly stuffed cotton batting back inside the loveseat cushions. She had gone from knowing nothing about herself to finding out she was a bereaved mother with a jailed husband awaiting trial, to being kidnapped and tortured, then learning that she had a twin sister.
It’s too much. How can I deal with it all?
She tried to pat down the ugly bulges in the leather, but the rip across the seat was a grim reminder of what had taken place here. Maybe she and Jenna would go furniture shopping together and she would be able to forget.
Yeah. As if.
Forgetting might no longer be an option. Jessica could feel her memory starting to open up moment by moment.
She had a feeling that once the dam burst there would be no going back.
The China Wok takeout bag with its secret cargo hidden under the pile of noodles still sat on the counter. She removed the container from the bag and opened the lid, gagging at the pungent odor. Pushing aside the congealed food with a fork, she exposed the baggie.
“Is that my flash drive?”
Startled, Jessica jumped. She had not heard the bedroom door open or Jenna approach. Her sister stood right behind her.
“You scared me,” she said, fishing the baggie from under the noodles. She dumped the food into the garbage disposal and took the flash drive out. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes, a lot stronger. I’m sorry I overreacted before. I’m just not feeling like me. I—”
“It’s okay,” Jessica said, handing her the little device. “Feel like booting up the computer?”
“You know I am. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
Leaning over her sister’s shoulder, waiting for the computer to boot up, Jessica asked whether the computer was a recent purchase.
Jenna shook her head. “No, I’ve had it for a while. Why?”
“So there should be some data files on it?”
“Of course there should. Why?”
“There’s nothing but programs. No emails, except for junk email that’s come in since you were gone, and one from Zach.”
“Shit! They must have thought they’d take care of it by erasing everything, in case I’d already uploaded the Project 42 files.”
“But we win. We’ve still got the files.”
Jenna inserted the flash drive into a USB slot. “Cross your fingers, Ariel.”
A second later they were looking at a list of 431 files, the contents of a folder named P42. Jenna pumped her fist. “Yes, we win!”
“Sweet.”
“Some of the Word files are specs Simon had me type up for the overall project. We can skip those. They’re the objective, the scope of work, stuff like that. Those are the ones with my initials—JM at the front.”
“What exactly is the objective?” asked Jessica.
“It has something to do with stimulating certain parts of the brain to act like a Viagra-type drug.”
“You mean Project 42 is something that gives horny old guys a hard-on?”
“Well, that’s an elegant way of putting it.”
“Oh, excuse me, I meant ‘it treats erectile dysfunction.’ You mean that’s what all this hoopla about?”
“It’s not just horny old guys who use those kinds of drugs, Jess. There’s a huge market for them—no pun intended. Beside, Project 42 isn’t a drug. It’s some kind of electrical stimulation device.”
“Sounds kinky.”
“Not that kind of stimulation. Brain stimulation. And it’s not just for men.”
“Unisex brain stimulation? Why kidnap us over that?”
“That’s not why they kidnapped us. They kidnapped us because they think I know what Project 42 really is.”
“What is it really?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Jessica frowned. “If you were going to blow the whistle on it, you must know more than that.”
“Some of the memos I saw between Simon and the client bothered me, but I didn’t have enough information to go public.”
“The client—Dr. Kapur?”
Jenna shook her head. “He’s just a front man who’s in charge of the project.”
“Well, who is the client?”
“One of the subsidiaries of the Morton Brothers Foundation.”
“Okay, I don’t mean to sound uninformed, but who is that?”
“It’s an international conglomerate that owns companies up the wazoo. Hundreds of them. They pretty much run half the world.”
“Half the world?” Jessica echoed.
“I’m not joking, Jess. WikiLeaks released some information on them awhile back. Morton Brothers entities pretty much run the governments of several smaller countries. I have a feeling they’re aiming to do the same here in the U.S.”
“With a sexual brain stimulant?”
“No. There’s something else going on in Project 42. The volunteers in the clinical trials aren’t being told the truth about the experiments—that’s what I discovered from those emails. I asked Simon, hoping he would deny it, that he would convince me I was wrong, but he didn’t. He just warned me to let it go.”
Jessica remembered the note she’d found in Jenna’s purse on her first night in the apartment: I’m warning you, Jen, back off. Now! You have to give me more time. She had later recognized the handwriting as belonging to Simon.
She said, “But if it’s such a big deal, why a small lab like BioNeutronics? Or—do the Mortons own the lab?”
“That’s what I asked Simon.”
“and he said...?”
“Basically patted me on the head and told me to be a good little girl. We’d just made love and he said he didn’t want to talk about work.”
“But you didn’t let it go, did you?”
“Of course not. I kept ragging on him until we got into this huge fight. He tried to convince me that it’s because BioNeutronics has such an excellent reputation and because we don’t take government funding, so we’re truly independent.” Jenna gave her a sour look. “We may not take government funding, but remember who Simon is married to.”
“A U.S. senator who’s running for president.”
“You got it. She’s wrapped up in this whole thing, I just know it.”
“Dr. Kapur came from DC with her last week.”
“See what I mean? Simon got way too quiet when I started asking him about his wife and the project. He shut right up and wouldn’t say squat about it.” Jenna got up, talking over her shoulder on her way to the kitchen. She poured two glasses of apple juice.
“I’ve been working on a theory. I did some research on
the company that brought the project to BioNeutronics. It’s definitely a subsidiary of the Mortons. I think they might be secretly funding her presidential campaign. It can’t be a coincidence that twenty-four hours after I start voicing my concerns over the project and threatening to go public that I end up some kind of guinea pig in the medical suite of the lab.” Her voice cracked. “Simon betrayed me.”
“You think he told Palmer?”
“Of course he did, she has him totally whipped. I don’t believe he sent those men after me—or you, but she would do anything to protect her own interests. I know she’s involved up to her ass.”
“Do you have any proof?”
“Jess, are you listening to me? The Mortons own the company that’s behind Project 42 and Palmer is running for President—they own her.”
Jessica thought about that. It all seemed to add up. “Kevin Nguyen is working for the Morton people, then?”
“Or directly for Palmer.”
“She threatened me.”
“What did she say?”
Jessica had no difficulty remembering Christine Palmer’s words. “She said, ‘We know what you’re up to, you little scammer. Don’t think you’re going to get away with it.’ Do you think she meant about you blowing the whistle? Or did she mean me, thinking I was an industrial spy, like Nguyen believed? Because she must have known they were already holding you.”
Jenna’s face reflected her frustration. “She’s an evil bitch and she threatened you—doesn’t that tell—”
A loud rapping on the front door interrupted her mid-sentence.
t h i r t y – o n e
Zebediah Gold was worried. Despite what he had said to Claudia, he was deeply afraid that Jessica—he had to remind himself not to think of her as Jenna anymore—might have hurt herself.
The drive up to Ventura from Venice had taken twice as long as it should have. He must have been nuts to think PCH would be faster than the 101 when there was road construction along the Santa Monica end, and the tourists and surfers were still clogging the Palisades and Malibu. He had been two hours on the road, during which he hadn’t much resembled the Zen therapist Jessica had seen in his office. He had fretted and fumed, second-guessing himself the entire way that he should have insisted on accompanying Joel Jovanic when he brought Jessica the news of her son’s death.
He had decided that if Jessica failed to answer the door, he would call Ventura PD and request a welfare check.
Hearing sounds from inside the apartment when he knocked, he let out the breath he had unconsciously been holding. The door opened and a surprised face peeped out at him.
“Dr. Gold! What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Jessica. You weren’t answering your phone, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m Jenna,” she said, which put him on alert.
He had been concerned that after learning about Jessica’s car accident she would dissociate again and not recognize him. Then the door opened wider and for a moment a startled Gold wondered
whether he was seeing double. That is, except for the black eye and bruises on one of the faces.
“Look what I found out,” the bruised version said. “We’re twins.”
Gold blinked in confusion. “Not what I was expecting. What—”
“Come in,” they said in unison and stepped back for him to enter.
One of them offered him the armchair and both went to put on coffee, with promises to bring him up to date on everything that had happened.
Gold, bemused at the turn of events, but thankful to have his concerns about Jessica allayed, wanted to know first about the collection of bruises on her face. The ruined love seat seemed an ominous portent. What had happened here?
Jenna brought the coffee, while Jessica fixed a towel over the cushions. The two of them sat close together, Jenna primly with her hands folded in her lap, as she had in his office, Jessica fidgeting. Their looks were eerily alike, but the temperamental differences were conspicuous to a trained observer.
Jenna began, then Jessica took up the astonishing tale. They took turns until they had reached the end.
“So, Nguyen says the police aren’t going to believe us,” Jessica wrapped up. “Do you think he’s right?”
“Detective Jovanic could answer that,” said Gold. “But I’m sure he would agree that you should file a complaint with Ventura PD. This is all mind boggling—and from me, that’s saying a lot.”
“You do believe us, don’t you?” Jessica asked. “I know it sounds crazy, but...”
“It’s so crazy we couldn’t make it up,” Jenna added.
“I believe what my own eyes are telling me. The two of you could be clones,” said Gold.
“It’s easy to see how the people at your job might be fooled, not seeing the two of you together. I certainly believed she was you, Jenna.”
He tugged at his beard, contemplating what they had told him. “From what this Nguyen said, they’ve anticipated you reporting them. I expect they’ve removed or destroyed any physical evidence of BioNeutronics’ involvement in any wrongdoing. But at the very least, the police can open a vandalism investigation and start there.”
“But what about the fact that Jen was kept under sedation all that time, not knowing what was happening to her?” Jessica said. “And what about my face? The bruises are evidence, aren’t they?”
Gold nodded. “It definitely shows you were assaulted, though how you can prove who did it is questionable. As for Jenna’s situation, if Nguyen claims to have a signed consent form for whatever they did to Jenna, it might complicate matters, but that shouldn’t stop you from filing a complaint.”
“It can’t be my signature,” Jenna stated flatly. “I would never sign anything like that. Or if they got me to sign while I was drugged, that would be illegal. Couldn’t I hire Claudia Rose to prove that I didn’t sign it?”
“You could, but first, you’ll need to get a copy of the document.”
“I’ll get a copy.”
Seeing the stubborn set of Jenna’s jaw, Dr. Gold believed that she would do as she’d said. His glance went from one twin to the other. Looking at them side by side, Jessica had a slightly more delicate prettiness. But separate them and anyone would be hard pressed to identify which was which.
“I must confess,” he said, addressing Jenna, since Jessica wouldn’t know the answer. “I’m curious about you two. Did you fool people a lot growing up?”
“We used to switch off at school and on dates,” Jenna told him. “We switched off when one of us was getting punished, too, which was too often. We shared the punishment.”
“I haven’t even thought about family,” Jessica said. “Finding my other half is enough for me.”
“We were adopted at birth,” Jenna said. “I think what our parents wanted was a pair of little dolls to show around in public, and then put away in a closet until the next time. They weren’t very nice people.”
“Was the mother very tall and thin with longish black hair?” Jessica asked.
“Yeah, that’s Lorraine,” Jenna said, getting excited. “Do you remember her?”
“While I was locked in that room last night I had a flash. I think she pushed me into the deep end of a swimming pool when I was pretty young.”
“She did. You were crying bloody murder because you couldn’t swim. She thought it was funny. The gardener had to drag you out. I was scared to death you’d drowned. You never wanted to go near the water after that.”
“Yet, we both live near the beach.”
“We lived in Ventura when we were growing up. You moved to Escondido after the accident. There was an insurance settlement...”
“What about the father?” Jessica interrupted.
“That’s Parker. He’s a bigshot in the banking world, way too busy at the office to notice what his wife was doing, which was spending her life drugged to the eyeballs, or out at bars with her girlfriends.
Lorraine’s big into the soc
ial scene. Until we were about twelve and started rebelling, she liked to trot us out in matching dresses that the nanny picked out for us, big pink bows in our hair. Aside from those times, she pretty much ignored us.”
“That feels familiar,” Jessica said. “Cold.”
“That’s why we left home the minute we could and never looked back. We had each other, and that was always enough.” A scowl darkened Jenna’s features. “Until you married that piece of crap Greg, anyway.”
“Stop. I’m not ready to go there.”
“You’ll have to face it sometime.”
“Not now, okay? I don’t want to think about it.”
“Sticking your head in the sand won’t make it go away.”
“Yes, it did.”
Zebediah Gold, who had been paying close attention, fascinated by the way the two sisters interacted, decided it was time for him to cut into the dialogue and head off the argument that seemed to be brewing.
“I can see that you two have different ways of operating. Maybe you should slow down and take some time to get to know each other again.”
Jenna glared at him with an open hostility that seemed not at all to fit with the impression he had formed of her. Jessica said, “You’re right, Dr. Gold. It was really nice of you to come all the way up here to check on us—although you didn’t know there was an ‘us.’
“We appreciate your concern, but as you can see, we’re fine,” Jenna added stiffly.
Gold smiled. “Yes, you’re safe for now, but after all you’ve both been through, “fine” may be stretching it.”
“We can handle it.” Jenna said, standing up. “Thank you for coming. We’ve got a lot of files to look through on the computer, so...”
Sensitive to the dismissal, Gold rose. “I’m glad you have each other to lean on. Is there anything I can do to help you through this?”
Jenna answered quickly. “No. Thank you, there’s nothing you can do. The questions we need to answer right now are on that flash drive. Maybe after we’ve figured that out...”
“Are you sure you still want to be involved in that?” Dr. Gold asked pointedly. “It’s already proved dangerous to both of you. Maybe you should consider letting it go.”
