Double Blind (22 page)

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Authors: Brandilyn Collins

Tags: #Christian Suspense

BOOK: Double Blind
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I pushed it again.

A car engine thrummed behind me. It came nearer, then slowed. I turned—and a dark-colored Corvette pulled into the driveway.

I froze.

The sports car stopped. The driver's door opened, and an overhead light came on. A dark-haired woman was lifting a purse off the passenger seat. She slid from behind the wheel.

I pressed against the wall of the porch, my heartbeat on hold.

She anchored the purse on her shoulder and crossed behind her car, heels clacking. Aimed for the curb. Streetlight spilled over her face.

Patti
.

My stomach fell away.

At her mailbox she pulled open its front lid and withdrew a white bundle. I heard the metallic
clunk
as the mailbox closed.

The woman headed back toward her car. Reached the driveway.

“Patti Stolsinger!” I jumped into view on her porch.

She gasped. The mail fell and scattered at her feet. Patti stared at me. “Who is it?”

“Is it you, Patti? Is it really you?” I hurried down the steps and across the ground between us. The closer I got the less I could deny it. It was
her
.

Shock gripped her face. She shrank away. “Who are you?”

My mind exploded. “
Why
are you here? Why are you
alive
?”

“I don't . . .” She stood four inches shorter than I. Looking so vulnerable. Patti cast wild glances around, seeking someone to help.

I pushed myself in her face, teeth clenched. The bill of Ryan's baseball cap bumped her forehead. “You're supposed to be dead.”

“What?” She backed up against the rear of her car. I came after her.

“They
told
me you were
dead
!”

“Who?”

“The memories.”

“M-memories?” She was shaking.

“The scenes in my head! The ones that show you choked and stabbed. Stuffed in a suitcase.”

Air stuttered from her mouth. She brought up both hands. “Please. I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You
have
to know.”

“I
don't
!”

I raised a fist. “You better start talking to me.”

She ripped her purse from her shoulder. “You want money? Credit cards? Here.” She groped in the bag and pulled out a wallet. “Take it all—”

“I don't want your money!” I knocked the wallet and purse from her hand. They spun to the pavement.

“Lisa!” My mother's voice knifed across the street. “Stop!”

Patti jerked toward the sound. “Help me!”

I heard Mom's running footsteps. I didn't care. “I'm
not
going to hurt you. I just want you to talk to me!”

“Lisa.” Mom jumped over the curb and pounded up the driveway. She grabbed my arm. “Stop it right now.”

Patti pressed herself against the car. “Get her off me.”

Mom dragged me away. I fought. She threw both hands on my shoulders.
“No.”
We half stumbled backward a few feet. Patti watched in horror.

Mom and I slid to a halt, panting. She still had hold of me. We eyed Patti, and she eyed us.

The night tremored.

Patti regained her equilibrium. “You'd better get off my property. I'm calling the police.”

Maniacal laughter burst from me. “Oh, that'll help. We just came from them.”

“Lisa, what are you doing?” Mom dug her fingers into my shoulders. “Just look at yourself. She has every right to call the police.”

Those words finally got to me. The blaze within me sputtered, then died. My mind began to clear. What
was
I doing? I'd never gone after anyone like that in my life. My arms went limp.

Mom hung on for a moment, then let me go.

I swallowed, trying to find something,
anything
to say. “I'm sorry.”

Patti's back straightened. Mom walked over to lift her wallet and purse from the driveway. She held them out. Patti snatched them and dropped the wallet in her purse.

“Please forgive my daughter.” Mom backed up, giving Patti space. “She's just . . . overcome. She's been through some traumatic events. And even though you don't know us, we think you may have some answers as to why.”

Patti raised her chin. “She assaulted me in front of my own house!”

“I know but—”

“Do you have a twin?” I took a step forward.

“Stay away from me!” Patti jerked back.

“Lisa—”

I stopped. “
Do
you have a twin?”

Patti's face twisted. “No.”

“A sister who looks just like you?”

“No. Get off my property right now.” Patti shoved the handle of her purse over her shoulder. “I mean it.”

“Please.” Mom's voice lilted into charm. “Patti. My daughter was sure she'd witnessed you being attacked and murdered. She was so sure and so devastated by what she saw that she told the police. But here you are, alive and well. We're very glad for that. But it's hard to reconcile it with what we've been led to believe.”

Patti gave my mother a hard look. “This is what glad looks like?”

Remorse clogged my throat. A whiff of jasmine filtered over me, sweet and so out of place.

“She's just confused, that's all. My daughter's never hurt anyone in her life. Please, just . . . will you give us a chance to talk to you?”

Patti's eyes flicked from my mother to me. I glanced away, saw her scattered mail, and went to pick it up. I offered the stack to her. She hesitated, then took it from my hands.

Realization moved across her face. “
You're
the reason that policeman came to my office today.”

I nodded.

She licked her lips. “You really saw someone murdered?”

“Yes.” Sort of.

“Why did you think it was me?”

“I saw your face so clearly. Then I found your picture online. With William Hilderbrand.” I surveyed her. How would she respond to his name?

“What picture?”

“At some formal event.”

Her chin lifted in recognition. “Well, whoever was killed, it obviously wasn't me.”

But it
was.

“So you can go now. And leave me alone.”

No way. I'd come this far. “So you know him. Dr. Hilderbrand.”

“What's that to you?”

“He's CEO of Cognoscenti. He invented the Empowerment Chip.”

Patti shot me a wary look. “So?”

Mom and I exchanged a glance. Clearly she already knew this. “I took part in the medical trial. Had the chip implanted.” I lifted the baseball cap and pointed to my bandage.

She pulled her top lip between her teeth. “Did it work?”

A strange question. And something about the way she asked it . . . Did she have some personal stake in the trial? I put the cap back on. “Yes. And no.”

“What does that mean?”

Mom shook her head. “Lisa—”

“It cured my depression. And it placed scenes in my head. Of your murder.”

Patti's eyebrows raised. “You're crazy.”

Tell me about it.

The scene of her storming into Hilderbrand's living room replayed in my head. Her accusations of infidelity . . . “You're dating Hilderbrand, aren't you.”

“That's
none
of your business.”

“Why can't you stop cheating on me? You're nothing but a liar!”

“But you know he's running around on you.”

Mom covered her face with her hand.

Patti stiffened. “Get out of here.”

“Aren't you going to ask me how I know?”

She pushed past my mother, clutching her mail. “If you're not gone by the time I'm inside, I'm calling the police.” She stalked up the driveway.

“I know what his living room looks like. Beige walls, a marble fireplace. Impressionist painting of the ocean, a glass coffee table. Hardwood floors and a Chinese rug. And his kitchen—stainless steel appliances.”

Patti halted, her spine rigid. Slowly she turned around. Her eyes flashed. “So that's what this is about. You're one of them.”

“No.”

“You've been in his
house
.”

“No.”

She strode back toward me, indignation pouring off her shoulders. “Who
are
you?”

“Lisa Newberry. I don't know your boyfriend. I only know that the chip he designed has put pictures in my head. Of you and him. His house. I see them through his eyes. Like they're
his
memories.”

Patti hung there, her mouth open, eyes lasering into mine. Emotions trickled across her face like melting water over stone.

Her face blanched. She drew her head back and fixed her gaze on some faraway point. “It's true, then.” She spoke half to herself.

“What?”

Her jaw worked. She looked back at me as if deciding what to say. “I've heard rumors that some of the chips . . .”

Mom's lips parted.

“Are tainted?” I leaned forward, my heart tripping over itself.

Patti shrugged.


Please
tell me. You have no idea what this has been like.”

Patti ran her thumb over the stack of mail. “I don't know. I've just heard Bill mention a few things. But he's not sure what the problem is. If there
is
one he wants to fix it. This company is his life.”

Bill.
I stared at her, the puzzle pieces in my brain more jumbled than ever. Why was she admitting this? To me, of all people? And why were some parts of the visions I'd seen apparently true while the big one—her murder—was false?

“Lisa went to Cognoscenti.” Mom edged closer to Patti. “She told the directors what she was seeing. They insisted her chip was blank and kicked her out of the trial.”

Patti shook her head. “I don't think anyone told Bill that.”

“Why would they keep it quiet?” Mom looked at her askance.

“I don't know. To protect the chip? Keep the trial going forward?”

I tipped my head to the sky. Stars ghosted the surreal night. What to even say next? I'd spent too many torturous hours believing William Hilderbrand was a cold-blooded killer. He was no
Bill
to me. No CEO kept in the dark.

Patti regarded me. “Are you really telling me you think the chip made you ‘see' my murder?”

“I know it's hard to believe but—yes.”

“Who supposedly killed me?”

Mom shook her head at me. I ignored her. “Hilderbrand.”

“What?”

“It happened in his house. I saw the whole thing through his eyes.”

“Through his eyes?”

“Like it was his memory. Somehow put in my brain.”

Patti glanced distractedly at the mail in her hand. She stuffed it in her purse. “You mean—you never actually saw him. Saw his face.”

I managed a nod.

“So what made you think it was him?”

“Like I said, his house. I saw it in my head. Then I found it in Atherton—for real.” I put my hands on my hips. “He owns a dragon's head ring, doesn't he.”

“A what?”

“A ring that looks like a dragon's head. Has emeralds for eyes.”

“Are you kidding? He'd never wear anything like that.”

Wait a minute—
no
? My mouth snapped shut. Then whose ring . . . ?

She ran a hand through her hair. “You say you never saw his face. What if you were seeing through someone
else's
eyes? Someone in his house?”

That stopped me cold.

For a long moment I could only stand there, the question ricocheting in my chest.
God, please let this make sense!
Because absolutely none of it did. I was worse off for coming here.

“Well, you're clearly alive.” Mom to the rescue. “So whoever's eyes it was—that person's not a murderer. None of that is even true. What remains is the problem for Lisa—and for Cognoscenti. There's something wrong with her chip. The company needs to accept that and fix it.”

Patti took a deep breath, as if confronting a major decision. “I can get you in to see him.”

My jaw dropped. “Hilderbrand?”

“Would you want to?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. “I'll call him tonight.”

“You will? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” My voice sounded like a little kid's. I backed off, palms up. How I would ever face the man, I had no idea. “Okay.”

Patti aimed me a hard look. “I hope you understand what I'm doing for you both. Getting in to see Bill is like getting in to see the President. He's so busy, and he protects his time. Nobody infringes on it. You understand that?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“And one more thing.”

“Uh-huh.” My mind was already twirling. I didn't think I could take much more.


Don't
lie to him. Don't try to put
anything
over on him. Or I'll tell you something, Lisa Newberry.” Patti took a step toward me, jabbing her forefinger in the air. “He'll chew you up and spit you out.”

Chapter 26

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