Outside the apartment building the night had a thousand eyes. We hurried to Mom’s car and locked the doors. Was the man here, somewhere? Watching from a window? Behind some car or tree? My head nearly swiveled off my neck, checking all around.
“Where do you want to go?” Mom started the engine.
“Get to El Camino and turn left. We’ll find a hotel somewhere.” I couldn’t even think of turning right. Of heading one foot closer to that man’s house.
On the way I called Sherry and told her everything.
“Lisa.” She sounded so scared for me. “This is unbelievable.”
Wrong word, but I knew what she meant. “I know. Wish I could see you.”
“You want to come over?”
“Thanks, but I know there’s no room for us there. We’re headed to a hotel. But I miss you.”
“Miss you, too.”
We fell silent. “Oh, Sherry, do you think you can give the police your fingerprints tomorrow?” I told her why they needed them. “You’ll probably have to go down to the station.”
“Okay. I can go while Rebecca’s in school.”
“What about J.T.?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
I hung up to help Mom find a hotel. We ended up checking into a place in San Mateo with free wireless. We got into our room—and hunger hit. We’d never eaten dinner. No wonder I felt weak. But no way I wanted to sit in a restaurant, where watching eyes could see me. We ordered room service. I lay on my bed, waiting for the food to come, utterly spent. Mom turned on her computer, itching to see if she could find out who owned the house at Ten Amethyst Lane. But she couldn’t get on the Internet.
Dinner arrived within thirty minutes. Mom abandoned her work while we ate.
When we were done Mom picked up the tray to set it in the hall. I hung back, hands clenched, while she opened the door.
Was the man out there? Was he in the hotel?
Mom closed the door and bolted it. “All right.” She headed back to her computer. “I will get this wireless working.”
If we found out the man’s name, then what? Part of me didn’t want to know.
Mom had to talk to the front desk to get on the Internet. By the time she succeeded it was after 10:00. Adrenaline and exhaustion swirled in my veins.
I drew up a small armchair beside Mom at the desk.
“Okay.” Her fingers were poised on the keys. “Ten Amethyst Lane, Atherton, California.” She typed the address into Google and hit enter. Over 200,000 hits came up.
My shoulders sank. “It’s so many.”
“We only need one.” Mom started with a realty site. Just like that, a picture of the house appeared.
“That’s it!” I leaned toward the computer.
Mom looked around the site. It listed features of the property, its selling history and other houses in the neighborhood. We could click and drag on the pictures for a three-sixty view of the street. But we saw no owner’s name.
“Maybe the owner isn’t public information in California,” Mom said. “Do you know?”
I shook my head.
She sighed. “Let’s try another one.” She opened a city data site for property valuation. Again we saw a picture of the house. “Look.” She pointed at the screen. “It was last sold in 2010 for four-point-eight million.” She scrolled down the page—and suddenly there it was in bold caps. The name of the owner.
William Hilderbrand.
Chapter 22
I STARED AT THE NAME, BLOOD GELLING IN MY VEINS.
Mom took a hard look at my face. “You know who he is, Lisa?”
My tongue would barely work. “CEO of Cognoscenti. Inventor of the Empowerment Chip.”
Air seeped out of my mother’s throat.
“You know that letter I got, accepting me into the trial? He signed it.”
A million thoughts drilled my brain. I didn’t even know where to start. “That man we saw at the house. It couldn’t be him. I researched Cognoscenti before signing up for the trial. I saw a picture of William Hilderbrand then. He looks like he’s in his mid forties.”
Mom absorbed the information.
“Why is it him?” My voice rose. “I knew when I saw the house that he was rich. But this . . . Hilderbrand’s worth millions. He’ll crush me. I can’t imagine the police even approaching him.”
This was too much. No way could I handle it.
“And besides, why would he kill someone? And how could it end up on a chip in his own company? No wonder they’re trying to silence me. It’s not just the chip, it’s the founder!” I buried my head in my hands.
Had Hilderbrand made that threatening phone call to Mom himself? Had he written that note? Had he broken into my apartment? I couldn’t imagine it.
But I couldn’t have imagined any of this.
A stunning realization hit. My head came up. “I didn’t think the killer knew that I know about him. But if it’s Hilderbrand, he does.”
He would kill me too.
It was surprising I was still alive.
Mom drew a long breath. “Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s what we thought before. You threatened Cognoscenti, so they’re fighting back by insisting your chip is blank. They want to shut you up. But they have no idea about this murder.”
“But I told Jerry and Clair about it. If Hilderbrand heard that, he knows.”
Exhaustion and fear clawed me. Every bone in my body felt beaten. I fell back in the chair. “I have to stop. I can’t fight this man. Whether Hilderbrand knows now or finds out later—I’m dead.”
His hands around her throat . . . Grabbing the knife . . . The suitcase sinking in black water.
I had to leave town. Right away, with no forwarding address. I could call Jerry Sterne and apologize, tell him everything was fine now. It would be a message to Hilderbrand that I was backing down.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d leave me alone.
But I knew he wouldn’t. Every minute he’d think of me, still alive, knowing the truth that could bring him down. I’d jag through my days, wondering when he would show up. Grab me in a parking lot one night.
How could I live like that?
I curled up in the hotel chair, darkness crusting around my head. I should just let it smother me. Maybe I was meant for depression. Meant to lead a miserable life. Maybe the brain chip was a placebo. And now even the power of suggestion was slipping away.
“Lisa.” Mom put her hands on my shoulders. “It’ll be all right.”
I shook her off. It wouldn’t be all right. And I didn’t want to hear platitudes. Somehow I managed to push to my feet. “I’m going to bed.” My voice cracked.
Mom let me go.
Soon I huddled on my side, the covers over my head. I could barely breathe like that, but I didn’t care. All I could do was pray. Please, God, take it all away.
But I heard no response.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14—THURSDAY, MARCH 15
Chapter 23
WEDNESDAY MORNING I WOKE AT 8:30, BLEAK AND SORE. All night I’d dreamed about Hilderbrand killing the woman. Putting her in the suitcase. Dumping her off the boat.
I turned over in bed to see Mom at her computer. Dressed and in makeup as usual. I buried my head beneath the pillow. No. No more digging online for me. No more trying to fight Cognoscenti, chase down justice for an unknown victim. I just needed to get out of the Bay Area.
Somehow I’d learn to deal with the memories. Maybe in time they’d fade.
“Lisa, get up.” Mom’s voice sounded grim. “I found something.”
I groaned.
“You’ll want to see this.”
No, I don’t.
“I found a picture of William Hilderbrand.”
“I’ve already seen his picture.”
“Bet you haven’t seen this one.”
I should at least get up. I had to go to my apartment and start packing. What about all my furniture? Maybe I should just leave it. Get out in a hurry.
Where w
ould I go?
Mom would drag me back to Denver.
“Lisa.”
“Yeah, Mom, I hear you.”
With a heavy sigh I forced myself from bed. Stumbled over to the desk and fixed my eyes on the monitor.
Mom pointed. “Look.”
It was him, all right. A confident-looking man with sandy hair, dressed in a black tux and bow tie. His arm was draped around a beautiful dark-haired woman in a floor length gown.
I froze.
“It’s her, isn’t it.” Mom looked up at me.
I nodded, speechless. Stepped back to collapse in the armchair.
She lay dead on the kitchen floor, blood oozing from her mouth . . .
In the picture with Hilderbrand she looked so alive.
He folded her body into the suitcase. Zipped it closed.
I screwed my eyes shut against the memories. “Who is she, where are they, when was it taken?”
“At some charity ball in Palo Alto last year. The caption says her name is Patti Stolsinger.”
Patti Stolsinger. Patti Stolsinger. The name rolled around on my tongue. Who was she?
Waves lapped against the boat beneath the black sky. The water looked even darker, ready to swallow her whole. He lifted up the suitcase and slid it over the edge of the boat. It hit with a splash . . .
I rubbed my eyes. Silence ticked in the room.
One end of the suitcase dipped underwater. It sank until it disappeared.
I leaned forward and stared at Patti’s face. Was she still at the bottom of some cold lake? The Bay? Or had her body been found, leaving her loved ones desperate to find the killer?
Now I knew the truth. She was real. Could I walk away from this? From her?
I gazed at Patti’s face. She looked back at me, pleading.
Mom’s fingers tapped the keyboard. “Here’s another picture of Patti in a society page.” Mom spoke quietly, as if our room had become a memorial. “‘Patti Stolsinger of Atherton and Marian O’Neil of Palo Alto, admiring a flower centerpiece at the Black and White Ball.’ That was in 2010. No sign of Hilderbrand.”
The Black-and-White Ball. I’d heard of it—a big charity event for the rich.
The picture of Hilderbrand and Patti still vibrated in my head. How did he go from that to murder?
Mom tilted her head. “If they were dating, he should be a suspect.”
You’d think so. But then, he was William Hilderbrand. “Keep looking. There has to be something about her death. Or disappearance.”
Mom clicked more keys. “There are a lot of hits to go through.”
I lay back in the chair and stared across the room. Voices passed our door in the hall. Children. A mother calling for them to slow down.
“She’s a researcher in a biotech company.” Mom’s voice remained low. “Named Biocent.”
On the kitchen floor, she groaned. He grabbed a knife and knelt above her . . .
My cell phone went off. I jumped, my thoughts wrenching from the scene. It had to be Sherry. I pushed out of the chair to answer. Her ID showed on the screen.
“Hi, Sherry.”
“Hi. You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t sound it.”
I wanted to tell her—We found him. We found her. But I stopped myself. Maybe she shouldn’t know. It might only put her in danger, too.
Would I have to leave town without even saying goodbye to my best friend? Immediate tears filled my eyes. I blinked them away and made my voice sound normal. “I just got up. We’re still at the hotel. What’s up with you?”
“I have a couple hours this morning while J.T.’s next door for a play time. I can go down to the police station and give them my prints.”
“Oh, good.”
“Who should I ask for?”
“Ted Bremer, but he may not be on duty yet. Anyone at the station can probably take them.”
“Okay.”
“Call me after you’ve done the fingerprints. I’m sure your husband’s thrilled you have to do this.”
“Jay’s very worried about you.”
“Probably worried I don’t cause you trouble.”
“Lisa, you’re my friend.”
My heart panged. “I know.”
“Actually he said—Can your mom hear?”
I glanced at Mom, hunched over her computer. “No.”
“Jay said something interesting about her. ’Cause you know how well he remembers the scene at Ryan’s funeral.”
Didn’t we all. Mom had been at me to move home, insisting I wasn’t strong enough to make it alone in California. Sherry got madder every time the woman opened her mouth. Then Mom added I didn’t have any friends here to help me.
“I’m helping,” Sherry shot back. “A lot more than you, if you want to know. I don’t put her down every chance I get. No wonder she doesn’t want to move back to Denver. You’re there.”
Whoa. I’d never heard Sherry talk to anyone like that. Mom had gone crimson and stalked from the room.
I sat on my hotel bed, facing away from my mother. “What’d he say?”
“That it’s a good thing she showed up. It would make you stronger.”
What was that supposed to mean? Mom always had a knack for cutting me down, and he knew it. “Well, he’s a man. They see things weird.”
“Yeah. I suppose.”
We fell into silence.
“Sherry, I need to go.”
“Okay. I’ll call you when I’m done at the station.”
I dropped the phone on the bed and stared at the wall. Jay’s words rattled around inside me.
“She bothering you?” Mom’s tone accused.
I stood up and faced my mother. “She doesn’t bother me, Mom. She’s my friend.”
My mother eyed me, then gestured toward her computer. “I’m still looking.” As if I should have no doubts as to who was really helping me here.
I squeezed the back of my neck. Had this day only just begun? I pictured Sherry at the police station, talking to Officer Bremer—
A horrible thought crashed into my brain. It struck so hard it weakened my knees. “Oh, no.”
Mom frowned at me. “What is it?”
I sat back down on the bed. Focused on the brown coverlet as snatches of our meeting with Officer Bremer replayed in my head. The way he’d hesitated when I asked if he knew a case that would fit my memories . . .
Of course he knew. With Redwood City just one town over from Atherton? He had to.
And I’d stupidly told him details about the murder. Details no one should know—unless they were there.
“Lisa, what?”
I felt sick in my stomach. “He thinks I’m involved.”
“What? Who?”
“Bremer. He thinks I’m involved in her murder.” I shook my head. The whole thing seemed so obvious. How could we have been so naïve? We’d handed the police every reason in the world to suspect me.
“Where did you get that idea?”
Was Bremer talking to Atherton police right now, planning their next move?
Now I couldn’t leave town. That would only make them all the more suspicious. They’d just track me down, drag me back. I was trapped here, between Hilderbrand and the police.
The realizations fell like muddy raindrops, clogging my head. I couldn’t begin to think what to do next.
“Turn off the computer.” My words sounded off-key. “I don’t want to see any more. I don’t want to know.”
“We gave them evidence, Lisa. We have evidence that we’re telling the truth.”
“Not nearly enough!” I threw out my hands. “Think like a cop. We could have staged the break-in and the phone message. We could have slipped the envelope onto the hallway floor as we let Agnes inside. There’s nothing to prove we’re telling the truth. We are stupid, stupid, stupid!”
“But why would you want to kill that woman? You don’t even know her.”
I laughed. “Convince them of that.”
<
br /> Suddenly my mother’s face was the last thing I wanted to see. She’d gotten me into this mess with Bremer. Practically made me call the police. I slid off the bed and headed for the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower.” Hot enough to burn away my thoughts. Convince me I was wrong.
It didn’t work. The hot water only weakened me. I needed food again. But no way. I did not want to sit down and eat with my mother.
Come on, Lisa. Calling the police was your decision, and you know it.
By the time I emerged from the bathroom Mom had packed up her laptop. She took one look at me and declared I needed breakfast. She was reading my mind again. I hated that.
“I don’t want anything.”
“You need it.”
I shook my head.
“Look. I drove us here. And I’m not driving you home until you eat.”
I leaned against the wall, tears pooling in my eyes. I couldn’t deal with this. A murder, the police—and my mother, too?
How had I gotten here? My whole life was falling apart.
Mom slipped her arm around my shoulders, her voice gentling. “Come on, honey. You’re just feeling overwhelmed right now. It’ll pass. And you’ll be better if you eat. We’ll talk this through.”
I had no more strength to fight her. Next thing I knew, she was leading me down the hall to the restaurant.
We chose a booth in the corner. I faced the wall, not wanting to even look at other people. What was wrong with me? Where was the determination I’d had two days ago?
Mom folded her hands beneath her chin. “You will get through this. We will figure it out.”
God, please make that true.
I played with my fork, trying to think of something good. “I haven’t had any new memories in over twenty-four hours. Maybe they’re done.”
“Hope so.”
The waitress took our orders and poured coffee, trying not to look at my bandaged head. I doused my drink with cream. Mom and I couldn’t seem to find any more to say to each other.
“Why did you come, Mom?” The words slipped out of me.
Dismay flicked across her face. “Why are you so surprised I want to help you?”
That question had a thousand answers.
Double Blind Page 13