Her words slugged me in the stomach. I pressed back in my chair. Why hadn’t I thought of this? I’d been so obsessed with the visions . . .
I couldn’t return to that life-sucking depression.
But at least it was something I understood. These visions were evil nightmares come true. They were making me way more crazy than depression.
“Then give me a new chip. One that isn’t tainted.”
They looked at me like I was crazy. New fear flung itself through me. If they didn’t help me . . . “Listen, both of you. I. Can’t. Handle this.”
Jerry considered me. “I can set you up with one of our psychiatrists. Maybe a few sessions—”
“I’m not crazy.”
“I didn’t say you’re crazy. I just think—”
“I want the chip taken out.”
“Lisa. We can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“It’s in the papers you signed. Remember? We had to put the language in there to cover those receiving the placebo. The chip stays, either way.”
“Mine isn’t a placebo.”
“The same rules apply.”
“But it’s hurting me!”
“It’s not, Lisa. It is not. Your brain is hurting you. This isn’t coming from the chip.”
“It has to be. The thing is cursed!”
Jerry leaned back with a sigh. Placed a fist beneath his chin.
Great. They thought I was insane.
I inhaled a ragged breath. “Please. Whether you think the chip is doing this or not, I want it out.”
Ice Queen’s expression hardened. “There is no provision in this trial for that.”
“There has to be.”
“I’m afraid not.”
I glared at her.
“Look, Ms. Newberry.” She spoke as if talking to a child. “Do you have any idea the cost of that procedure? There is no way Cognoscenti could provide a second surgery to everyone in this trial. It was never promised.”
“I’m not everyone. I’m just me.”
“It wasn’t promised to you.”
My muscles tightened. Much more of this and I’d punch her out. Jerry too. “I’m telling you I want this chip out of me.”
“If you want it out that badly, you’re free to do so,” Jerry said. “But it would be at your own expense. And you’d be talking a great deal of money.”
My arms folded. “You said a second surgery wasn’t promised to anyone in the trial.”
“Right.”
“So I quit the trial. I’m done. And I want this fixed.”
“You can stop the trial if you want.” Jerry’s voice remained so infuriatingly calm. “But I’d think twice about that. As part of it you have access to a psychiatrist’s help. If you pull out, you’re on your own.”
“Looks to me like I’m on my own anyway.”
Frustration flicked across Jerry’s face. His mouth opened, then shut.
“Please, Ms. Newberry.” Ice Queen again. “Let us help you.”
“You can help. By taking out the chip!”
“We can’t authorize that.”
“Then get somebody higher up! Let me talk to your boss.”
“The answer will be the same.”
My feet pressed into the floor. “Fine then. Maybe I should just go to the police.”
She blinked “About what?”
Why had that popped out of me? Yeah, Lisa, about what? “The vision. The murder. Like I said, I think it really happened.”
“It’s not a real murder. It’s all in your head.”
“If it’s all in my head, the chip put it there!”
“But it didn’t.”
We were going around in circles. “Then where’s all this coming from?”
“Your own brain.” Jerry emphasized his words. “What you’re describing are panic attacks. Lots of people have them. And they don’t have implanted chips. Our brains are intricate, complex pieces of machinery. We have not begun to understand the depths of them. But take a hard look at this ‘vision’ you’re having. Notice how it involves a man strangling a woman? That’s right out of your own experience.”
“Really? What about the knife and the house I’ve never seen before? And the suitcase?”
He shook his head.
My jaw twitched. “Maybe I should talk to a newspaper or something. Tell them what’s going on with this company.”
More stupid threats. I’d never do that.
Ice Queen’s head tilted. “I’ll tell you what’s going on—you’re seeing things. Any reporter you talk to would come to us next for our side of the story. We’d have to tell him the truth.”
“And what would that be?”
“That you’re a depressed, traumatized woman who voluntarily entered our trial. That when things didn’t go your way, you pulled out—after the expensive surgery, I might add—and made threats.”
Tears filled my eyes, and that only made me madder. “I’ll tell them what you’ve done to me.”
“Ms. Newberry, please,” Jerry said. “For your own sake, don’t do that.”
My own sake? “Is that some kind of threat?”
He smacked both hands on his legs. “Just . . . Can you stay a part of this trial and let us help you?”
“You’re not helping me unless you take out the chip!”
“Then we’ll have no choice but to terminate your participation.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Who cares? What difference does it make now anyway? You’ve messed up my life—and you won’t fix it!”
Jerry let out a long breath.
Ice Queen’s jaw flexed. “I will not sit by and let you undermine this project.”
Jerry waved his hand at her. “Clair—”
“No, Jerry, she needs to hear this.” Ice Queen faced me square on. “Do you have any idea how important this trial is? And how well it’s been going?”
Oh, it was important, all right. Important enough to make Cognoscenti millions of dollars. “I’ll bet you own stock in the company.”
Ice Queen’s cheeks flushed. “I’m talking about the good the Empowerment Chip can do, Ms. Newberry. Imagine people like yourself, so traumatized. Imagine all the vets coming back from Iraq and Afghanistan with PTSD. Or people so depressed they want to commit suicide. This chip will save people’s lives.”
I’d thought the same thing.
“Do you really want to go out there”—Clair pointed toward the window—“and tell people this chip is bad? You really want to place the welfare of other people at risk because you are having panic attacks?”
Oh, so now I was the bad guy? “I’m having panic attacks, Ms. Saxton, because of your chip. If it’s going to do this to other people, you can bet I’m going to tell the world about it.”
Ice Queen lasered me with her eyes. No point in punching her now—I’d break my hand on her jaw.
“Fine then.” She rose and plucked the envelope with my name on it off Jerry’s desk. It was sealed. She sat down again, holding it in both hands. “You want out of this trial?” Her voice was dead quiet. Condemnation oozed out her pores. They had offered me life through the Empowerment Chip—the new invention that would change the world—and I had the audacity to drag it through the mud.
“Yes.”
“You got it.” She opened the envelope and pulled out two pieces of paper. Her eyes lingered on the first. For a split second her poker face twitched with . . . surprise? Vindication? She held out the paper for Jerry to see. He read it, blinked, and nodded.
Ice Queen leaned forward to hand me the second sheet of paper. “This is the form you need to sign, saying you’re pulling out of the trial.”
Jerry held out his pen.
I snatched the paper from her hands and started reading. The second paragraph stopped me cold. “This says I don’t hold you accountable for anything. But I do.”
“If you want out of the trial, Ms. Newberry”—Ice Queen’s tone chilled—“you need to sign it.”
“All right, then.” She picked up the document. “We’ll have to sign for you on the next line, did you see it? That for reasons of refusing to participate, we are withdrawing you from the trial.”
“Go right ahead. And I’m just letting you know, when I get home, I’m calling the San Jose Mercury. And probably a TV station or two. Not to mention I’ll sue Cognoscenti for everything it owns.” All bluff. But I was desperate.
Disappointment crossed Jerry’s face. “You won’t want to do that, Ms. Newberry.”
“Oh, really?”
He exchanged a look with Ice Queen. She placed the first piece of paper in his hand. He folded it in half. Unfolded it again. “Now that you’re withdrawn from the trial, you’re entitled to know about the chip you were given.” Jerry’s voice was grim. “The vice president in charge of the trial placed the information in this envelope in case things didn’t go well in this meeting. Clearly, they haven’t. We had not known the content until opening it.”
What did it matter now? My gaze flicked to Ice Queen. She eyed me, mouth firm. So I’d sounded that wacked on the phone, had I. Crazy enough that they’d talked to their boss. Before I ever walked in here, they’d planned for this. I was making too much noise, and Cognoscenti just wanted me out. Didn’t want to admit their miracle Empowerment Chip had some major flaw.
Well, good riddance to both of them.
I lifted a shoulder. “So what does it say?”
Jerry held the paper out to me. “You received a placebo.”
Chapter 9
THE CAB RIDE HOME WAS A BLUR. JERRY STERNE’S STUNNING words circled in my head along with scenes of the murder.
A placebo. A blank chip.
Could my brain really be making all this up? Could it be just coincidence that these “panic attacks” started right after the chip was implanted?
No way.
And by the way, if the chip was a placebo, why had my depression lifted? The huge difference in my emotions couldn’t be merely from the power of suggestion. I knew what I felt. I’d been better. Really better. Then—this.
When I walked into my apartment the phone was ringing. I checked the ID. Sherry. Guilt washed through me. I’d never called her. I picked up the receiver.
“Hi, Sherry.”
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you for the past hour.”
I could hear J.T.’s kiddy music playing in the background. “I’m so sorry. I should have called you before I left.”
“Left? You felt like going somewhere?”
My throat hurt. I tried to answer but couldn’t.
“Lisa?”
“Hmm?” My voice wavered.
“What’s wrong?”
Tears spilled from my eyes. “Everything.”
She inhaled a sharp breath. “Did the chip stop working?”
A hysterical laugh choked me. “More like it’s working overtime.”
“What do you mean?”
I fought back the tears. I didn’t want to lose it, not now. Then a thought hit me. I was actually handling this. As scary as the visions were, I’d been able to face Jerry and Ice Queen, demand they do something. I never would’ve had that kind of strength during my depression. If I’d been given a placebo and now had to deal with these visions—I’d be a total basket case.
I stared across the living room, the realization filling me up. That chip was no placebo.
Had Jerry and Ice Queen lied to me? Or had their boss lied to them?
“Lisa!”
I jumped. “Sorry. I’m here.”
“Talk to me.”
The phone.
I pulled the receiver away from my ear and stared at it. How long had I been gone from the house—ninety minutes? By the time I got to Cognoscenti, they already suspected I’d be a threat. They’d prepared that false placebo document. What if they’d sent someone to bug my apartment?
Okay, that was paranoid. Still . . .
“Lisa, please.” Sherry’s voice drifted up to me.
I pulled the receiver to my ear. “Sherry, I have to go right now. I promise I’ll call you back.”
“But—”
I punched off the line.
Sadness speared me. This was no way to treat my best friend. But I pushed it away for the moment, staring at the receiver in my hand. Could I take it apart? Would I even know what to look for?
My fingers tightened. This wild way of thinking—it was a bad sign. Very bad. Maybe the chip was a placebo. A tainted one.
Whatever it was, I had the right to be paranoid.
But really, Lisa, a tapped phone?
I set the receiver down and slumped over the counter. One thing I did know—the visions came from the chip. But how to prove it? No one at Cognoscenti would listen to me now.
My stomach growled, but I couldn’t think about eating. I shuffled to the couch and sat down. Bent over, elbows on my knees.
Two choices rose up. First: do nothing. Just work through the terror, hoping the visions would eventually fade, even though it felt like they’d really happened. But even if that were true, the murder was done, no changing it. What was I supposed to do about it now? If I did try to do something, I could end up in a lot of danger. Of all people, I was the last one to place myself in the sights of a man who would choke a woman.
Second choice: do something. Somehow get help for myself, and stop the Empowerment Chip from going on the market. But how? I was one person against a corporation funded by millions of dollars. And Ice Queen had made it clear if I said anything to anyone, they’d label me a crazy, vindictive woman. Plus they’d have the paper to prove my chip was nothing but blank.
I pictured Ice Queen’s face as she first read the placebo document. And Jerry’s expression. Their reactions had seemed genuine. If that was true, and if my chip wasn’t a placebo, then their boss, Mr. Vice President, had lied to them—and me. Maybe some investor had forced him to. Any investor would have a lot of money at stake.
If the company had lied to me, what about others in the trial? Maybe I wasn’t the only one in trouble. What if the chip was severely flawed, and they needed to silence anyone who complained? Someone in the company who believed in the chip enough, who wanted to make millions, could convince himself it was the patients’ fault.
Imagine the product in my brain released into the general market. The thought made me want to throw up.
I fell back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. If only Ryan were here. He’d know what to do. I’d sit on his lap and hug him, as I had so many times after my miscarriages. And he’d wrap his arms around me, pressing his love into my skin, my heart, until I was able to think again. Until we could talk things out.
From the end table I picked up a framed picture of my husband. He was standing on the Golden Gate Bridge, feet apart, wind ruffling his hair. His arms were crossed, a satisfied grin on his face. It had been our first sightseeing trip after moving to the Bay Area.
My heart panged. If Ryan were here, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.
I put the picture back down.
Cognoscenti against Lisa Newberry. An elephant against a gnat.
The phone rang. I barely heard it, too busy staring at the carpet.
If the murder was real, who was the woman?
A second ring.
There’d be news about the homicide—with her picture. I could search online. If I found her picture, I’d know I was right.
But what if the crime didn’t happen here? That house could be anywhere. And the murder could have been long ago.
A third ring.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the scenes. Seeking any clues about the time or the place. The kitchen in those visions had looked modern. But nothing more than that came to mind.
The fourth ring cut off. The phone’s auto answer clicked on.
“Lisa!” My mother’s commanding voice filled the apartment. My hea
d jerked up.
“What is going on? Get back to me right away. Some company in your area called about you. Name starts with a C or K. The man did not sound nice, and that’s an understatement. He told me to give you this message:
“‘Don’t do it.’”
Chapter 10
I JUMPED UP AND HURRIED TO THE COUNTER TO SNATCH up the phone. “Mom?”
Silence.
“Mom?”
She’d hung up.
I lowered the receiver and stood there, hearing myself breathe. A company name starting with C or K. Cognoscenti. Sending a threatening message.
Why had they called my mother instead of me?
Of course they knew about her. Cognoscenti knew everything about me after my screening interviews. I’d told them of her charm and beauty, how she always looked so perfectly put together. How she’d tried to make me just as perfect. I told them about the drawing I’d given my mother when I was five, only to be lectured on how I could improve it. They knew about her coldness—a mom who rarely hugged or said “I love you.”
Cognoscenti also knew how much Ryan had helped me deal with my mother. He’d believed in me, loved me for who I was. When I didn’t even know who I was. I’d come a far way from being under my mother’s thumb. Still, things were hardly great between us. To this day I tried to tell myself I didn’t care what she thought of me. But I did.
My hand hovered over the receiver. I pulled it back.
I’d never given Cognoscenti my mother’s number. Only her name and where she lived. For the required emergency number I’d listed Sherry. Yet Cognoscenti hadn’t bothered her. They’d called my mother. They’d taken the time to track her down. But why? To intimidate me?
Mom had said he. Jerry? One of my original interviewers?
I picked up the phone and punched in Mom’s number. The second ring cut off.
“Lisa!”
“Hi.”
“What’s going on? Who is this company?”
Now what was I supposed to say? “Someone I interviewed for a job with.” The lie slipped out so easily. My conscience twinged.
“Why are they calling me?”
Double Blind Page 6
