How much did you know these students? How close were you? Did you know you were somehow screwing up their brains?
Ansel shook his head. “Very little. With my most recent study, after initial enrollment I never saw them. Not once.” He waved at the tablet. “They’re numbers on a screen to me.”
All study subjects would be given a number when they joined the study to protect their privacy. That way, anyone looking through the information would have no idea which student was which.
“Good to know,” Katherine said. “I’m still teaching general-ed classes, so I want to be careful to limit my interaction with students.” They were skipping around in the future. She’d changed something along the way, though she couldn’t figure out what it was, but their dialogue wasn’t tracking what the vision had been.
“Oh no. God no,” Ansel added. “You don’t have to actually interact with them. That’s what grad students are for.”
“How many graduate students would I need to dedicate to a project like that?”
“Depends on how it’s structured, but with my last one, we had roughly seventy subjects and ten grad students running the actual interviews and methodologies we were testing. Who will you be working with?”
On a completely fictional study that doesn’t need to be run and doesn’t need people to do it? “I’m still debating. I’d be lead of course, but anywhere from five to six. Was your study survey based? How many partners?”
“Five total. And we were testing…” He seemed to consider for a moment before pushing on. “We were testing what some would call an alternative anxiety treatment in conjunction with more standard medical treatments.”
“Not as a replacement for medicine but a complement?”
“Exactly.”
“Interesting.” She looked back at her tablet so as not to seem too interested. “I’d think there would be a lot of journal interest in that.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “I don’t think it’ll sit on a shelf.”
She kept her eyes down on her tablet, making her words sound like an afterthought. “So you had two of your own students running things? And then everyone else contributed two of theirs?” She pretended to consider. “Yes, I can see how that would work.”
“The grad students took care of all the grunt work, so to speak.” Ansel smiled. “The majority of the information was collected remotely. Very little interaction at all. If I passed a participant on campus, I’d probably never recognize them.”
“Ideal.” It also meant that Ansel might have no idea that three of his study participants had had adverse psychological events in the past six months. “So did you end up with any Primos?”
He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“Sensors thrown off?” She raised her tablet with the spreadsheets on it. “Like our Primo. Data that doesn’t fit the pattern? In a group of seventy, I’m assuming some will drop out, that kind of thing.”
“Oh.” He curled his lip. “Naturally. All that is caught in the follow-up. Which again, that’s mostly on the grad students. They collect, we interpret.”
“Fantastic.” She returned to their cephalopod research. “Nine neural control centers. Nine. Fantastic. That would be like if we had five brains, each one controlling a limb independently. Can you imagine having five brains, each one controlling a different appendage? Talk about coordination.”
“No.”
“You don’t think they’re coordinated?”
“No.” He looked up, his face a complete blank. “I can’t imagine having five brains.”
God, he was boring. Too boring to be a bad guy?
That, like so much of her life at the moment, was up for debate. No matter, she’d learned an invaluable lesson, and in a small way, she’d even changed the future.
* * *
Baxter sat on the couch in his study, his feet kicked up on an ottoman, tapping his chin and staring out the window. “And he offered that information freely?”
“I framed the questions as a hypothetical for a study I was considering putting together.”
The corner of Baxter’s mouth turned up. “With human subjects? In physics? What was this hypothetical study?”
“I don’t even remember what I told him. Something about thermodynamic negentropy.” She waved a hand. “As soon as I said negentropy, his eyes started glazing over.”
Baxter threw his head back and laughed. “He wouldn’t even question it. He abhors looking ignorant.”
“Do you know what negentropy is?”
“Only vaguely, and I would always defer to my brilliant wife in anything Schrödinger posited.”
She waggled her eyebrows at him. “You do know how to flirt with a physicist, don’t you?”
“Indeed, I excel in it.” His smile waned. “So he seemed to have no idea about Abigail? Or the other two students?”
“Nothing in his demeanor said he was hiding anything or thought he had anything to be worried about.”
“He’s egotistical. Maybe he thinks he can get away with ignoring adverse reactions in his subjects.”
“I agree he’s egotistical, but he’s also very focused on publication. That much was obvious. With something like this that could potentially have so many real-world applications, he might even be looking for a book deal.”
Baxter held out a hand. “And that’s not all the more reason for him to obfuscate?”
“Hiding the truth won’t help him with the IRB. And anything that’s produced for publication—especially if it’s for a more popular publishing audience—would be absolutely scrutinized.”
Baxter worried his lower lip, which he only did when he was thinking particularly hard.
“One of the students in the Fred lab said she heard Shaver arguing with Mehdi today.”
Baxter nodded slowly. “I spoke to Anita this morning. I told her it was highly confidential, but that I had good reason to believe that Abby—whom Anita knows—was part of the study last year and that she’d recently had an aberrant psychological episode. I gave her the details of the situation, and she sounded very disturbed. I also told her that I had reason to believe two other students had been affected and she needed to look into it.”
“Did you tell her you were thinking of filing a report?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. If it comes from someone within the study, it’s better for everyone.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but where does that leave all the other students in the meantime?”
“I don’t know,” Baxter said. “But we currently don’t have any idea what’s causing this, so I don’t even know if warning them would be useful. We might send students into a panic when it’s not necessary.”
Katherine got up and rounded the ottoman to sit next to him. Baxter tucked her under his arm and squeezed.
“I don’t know what the right thing is,” Katherine said. “I hate being in the dark like this.”
“I know.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I spoke with Abby today.”
“How is she feeling?”
“Confused. Heartbroken. Mario is doing much better, so that helps, but he’s still got a long road of healing and she feels extraordinary guilt. Mario has been advised by the police and his attorney not to speak to Abby at all.”
“And she still remembers nothing?”
He shook his head. “If she does, she’s blocked it out.”
“Did you ask her directly if she was part of the study?”
“I did and she told me she was, but she had no idea how any of the exercises she was doing—which she found very calming—could have contributed to this. Once we start talking about that, someone took her phone away.”
Katherine took a deep breath. “The police aren’t going to be able to ignore this. That’s two students acting wildly out of character and committing crimes within weeks of each other.”
“I suppose it depends on who is investigating.”
“The detective we spoke to afte
r the gym was named Drew Bisset.”
Baxter tapped his fingers along Katherine’s hip. “Is he investigating Abby’s case too?”
“Probably. How many detectives can there be in Moonstone Cove?” She sat up straighter and reached for her phone. “I know someone who might have an idea.”
She dialed Toni’s phone number and waited for her to answer.
The line picked up, but she only heard whispering voices on the other end.
“Henry, I told you… No, it’s not them.” She cleared her throat. “Katherine? Everything okay?”
She smiled. “Who’s Henry?”
“He’s… it’s nothing. He’s a friend.” There was a faint burst of laughter. “Is everything all right?”
“I spoke to Ansel Shaver this morning. He’s the one who ran the study. He seemed to have no idea that any of this might be connected, but Baxter spoke to another of the study leaders, and she may be looking into things. I was wondering about the police though?”
“What about them?”
“Would Detective Bisset be working on Abby’s case too? Do you think they’ve made a connection?”
“Oh yeah. Drew’s got Abby’s case too. He saw the connection immediately, but he doesn’t know anything about the study. Or I don’t think he does.”
“Meeting,” Baxter whispered. “You three should have another meeting.”
“Wednesday is two days away.”
“Right.”
“What’s that?” Toni asked. She sounded distracted. “A meeting?”
“Baxter was suggesting we meet, but I reminded him that—”
“We’ll see each other on Wednesday,” Toni said. “I already have the wine. I stole another couple of bottles from my cousin.”
“Do you think you can find out anything more about what the police think of Abby’s case before then?”
“I’ll try. I can tell my cousin she’s a friend of a friend. He’ll get why I want to know.”
“Okay. Have you talked to Megan lately?”
“No, why?”
“I was just curious if she’d managed to speak to Justin McCabe’s family.”
“Was she going to try?”
“I don’t know. Something about the way she talked about his parents made me think she might.”
“Well, you’re the psychic, so you’re probably right.”
Katherine glanced at Baxter, but his attention had already been caught by the crossword puzzle on the back of the newspaper. He hadn’t heard.
“Toni, I better go. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
“See you.”
She ended the call and tossed her phone toward the other end of the couch. She watched her husband, who was studying the puzzle as if it contained the secrets of the universe. For the hundredth time, she considered telling him about her visions. About Toni and Megan. About why they’d become so close so quickly.
“Is that what you’re really afraid of? Your husband digging in and trying to make sense of you?”
How would her analytical man analyze the inexplicable? Would she become an aberration? Disparate data in his well-ordered life?
No.
Baxter was too essential to her. She needed him. Needed his regard and his respect as well as his love. He was the most secure anchor in her life.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Are you playing a game, Professor Pang?”
He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes. But nothing as interesting as you.” He set the newspaper to the side and slid his arm around her waist. “Did you have something else in mind?”
“I have an in-person study proposal I’d like to go over with you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. In the bedroom.”
Baxter stood up so quickly he almost knocked her off the couch.
Chapter 19
The next day was Tuesday, and Katherine didn’t have student hours, but she crowded into her cramped office with Keisha and Sydney, two of her grad students who were grading Intro to Cosmology essays while she tweaked her notes for her lecture on Thursday.
She didn’t only have female grad students, but since women were still an unfortunate rarity in their department, she tended to grab any random female postgrads if she saw them wandering in the halls and scoop them up for her own.
“Professor Bassi?” Keisha asked.
“Yes?”
“You’re married to Professor Pang, right? The math chair?”
“He’s a cochair, thank God, but yes. Why are you asking?”
Keisha and Sydney exchanged glances. “So he knew that girl who stabbed her boyfriend?”
Katherine’s stomach dropped. She knew that in a small college like Central Coast, the rumors had to be rampant, but it hurt to have a bright young woman like Abby be the center of this kind of speculation.
“I know Abby,” Katherine said. “She was Baxter’s grad student, and she came to our house on more than one occasion for student dinners.”
“Oh.”
Sydney said, “I’m so sorry about what happened. It’s just really weird. Everyone is talking about it.”
“I’m sure they are.” Katherine looked at Keisha. “And don’t feel bad for asking. It’s a very strange situation, and I’d prefer you speak to me rather than listening to rumors. But yes, Baxter and I both know Abby. She’s a wonderful person and I’m not sure what’s going on, but she’s one of the least violent people I know. We’re all hoping she and Mario make a full recovery.”
“I heard he almost died.”
“I don’t know about that, but I know he’s doing better now.” She tried to turn her attention back to her lecture, but Sydney and Keisha were still talking.
“That’s just so freaky, you know? Like, you’re just hanging out and then your boyfriend or girlfriend flips out and tries to stab you?” Sydney said. “It’s like… is anyone safe?”
“That’s crazy.” Keisha glanced at Katherine. “I mean, the situation is crazy. Not the girl. I don’t know anything about her. I just mean it’s a crazy situation.”
Katherine offered her a polite smile. “I know what you were trying to say. Like I said, I hope they figure out what’s going on with her soon.”
Even if Abby was exonerated legally, she’d probably have to leave Moonstone Cove. The town was too small, and people remembered everything. Katherine was still occasionally reminded of a gaffe she’d made at a department dinner.
In 2008.
Small towns. They had their pluses and their minuses.
“Sydney, when you’re finished with those essays…”
The vision hit her like the sudden onset of vertigo.
The grey descended, and Katherine was in a high place where the wind cut sharply into her face. Immediately, she tried to step back, pull away, and look at the vision from outside the experience.
Time.
Her instincts were screaming at her.
She needed time.
It wasn’t her on the roof. Who was she seeing? Where was she? She looked over the Central Coast campus. The dunes were in the distance and the ocean beyond. To her right was the green pasture next to the animal science building.
The architecture building. The roof of the architecture building.
She heard shouts from below. She turned her head and saw the girl staring into the distance, the morning sun casting her face in darkness as she looked toward the sea.
A hiccuping cry. A sniff.
Who was it?
She knew this girl. Who was it?
Her ears popped painfully as the vision passed, leaving Katherine sick to her stomach and dizzy.
“Professor Bassi?” Keisha was standing next to her. “Are you feeling okay?”
Katherine bolted from her office chair and ran toward the door.
“Katherine?”
She didn’t have time!
Katherine ran down the hall and out the double doors of the old physics building, into the quad that surrounded a large fo
untain and reflecting pool. She saw the heights of the architecture building in the distance, the modern portico dominating the face of the pure white marble building.
She had no idea how much time she had, so she ignored the crunch in her right knee and the strain in her ankle. She shifted her mind into the hyperfocus she’d once practiced during trail runs.
No trail. No track. No rules other than get from the quad to the architecture building as quickly as possible. She mentally mapped out a route in her mind as she ran across the quad. The route would take her over ten minutes at a fast walk.
She didn’t have ten minutes.
She maybe—maybe—had five.
Katherine leaped over a corner of the fountain and dodged groups of students, running as fast as she possibly could. Her lungs were burning by the time she left the quad. Treadmills and walks on the beach were not nearly as strenuous as the conditioning she used to do.
As she ran, she replayed the vision in her mind. She thought about every detail. The angle of the sun and the wind that cut into her face. The shadowed woman in the vision wasn’t clear, but Katherine was certain she knew her. There was something about her that felt familiar.
She ran past the library and the maintenance building behind it, up the steps and through the clear glass doors of the design school, down the backside, even as people shouted angry curses at her. As she beat her way through the oak grove past the design school, she heard a siren in the distance and saw a small group gathered at the foot of the marble steps.
Katherine reached the architecture building at a run; she didn’t slow, she didn’t stop to speak to anyone. She’d been on the roof before and knew how to get there. She ran up the steps and pulled the doors open, heading for the elevator and past the clutch of students who were exiting.
Two minutes. Did she have two minutes?
She hit the back wall of the elevator and turned, punching the button for the top floor. A group of clueless students tried to enter behind her.
“No!” Katherine shoved them out a moment before the doors closed.
“What the hell?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Back off!” She panted and glared at the students, who waited with annoyed expressions.
Runaway Fate: Moonstone Cove Book One Page 15