Double Blind (23 page)

On the drive home Mom had to pull to the shoulder
of the freeway so I could throw up. I stumbled from the car, stomach wrenching. By the time we made it back to the apartment I could barely think straight. All the work Mom and I had done—and we only had more questions. And now I had to face Hilderbrand himself. How would I get through that?

Once home I collapsed on the couch. It was nearly nine-thirty. My body begged for sleep, but my brain wouldn't turn off. Around and around it went over the questions and inconsistencies, a nightmare carousel.

My mother tried to get me to eat.

Mom, really?

Patti was supposed to call when she got through to Hilderbrand. Mom laid the receiver on the coffee table beside me.

The clock ticked. We waited.

We talked about the meeting with Hilderbrand—
if
it happened at all. What we'd say. What questions we wanted answered. “I'm so glad you're here,” I told Mom. “I wouldn't want to face that man by myself.”

She nodded. “But he's not a murderer, Lisa. You've got to turn your thinking around on that.”

Not so easy to do. Even after talking to Patti Stolsinger, being inches from her face, I still saw visions of her lying on the floor, dead.

Sometime after 10:00 the phone rang. My hand snatched it up. “Hello?”

“It's Patti.”

Guilt rose in me. “Hi. I'm so sorry again for what I did to you. So sorry.”

She made a sound in her throat. “He'll see you tomorrow morning at 9:00. In his office at Cognoscenti. Take it or leave it.”

This was really happening. “I'll take it.”

Silence hummed over the line.

“He wasn't happy with the way you treated me, you know. And I have to tell you—he's heard your name before. You threatened the trial directors that you were going to sue his company.”

“I didn't mean it.”

“Let's hope not.”

Mom watched me, biting one side of her cheek.

“Look, Patti, I'm sorry. Really. I know I scared you.”

My mother nodded her approval.

“So make it up to me. Tell Bill what he needs to know. Work with him.”

What he needs to know.
My fingers tightened on the phone. These people didn't care about me. They just wanted to protect their company. A company and a product potentially worth millions of dollars. Maybe a billion.

If Hilderbrand wanted to destroy me, he could.

“Okay. I will.”

Patti clicked off the line.

I pulled the phone from my ear and stared at it. “I can't believe this,” I whispered.

Mom leaned toward me. “Are we in?”

“We're in.”

For the next two hours Mom and I planned the meeting. We listed questions we wanted Hilderbrand to answer. Where are the chips manufactured? Who could be responsible for my tainted product? Were other trial members complaining of similar problems? Patti had hinted that they were. Bottom line I still wanted the two things I'd always wanted: proof that the chip was responsible for the scenes in my head and assurance that it wouldn't go on the market until it was fixed.

Looking back I think: how very naïve.

But as Mom and I talked, something else happened. A different kind of feeling grew between us. Even though she'd been a lot of help the past two days, it wasn't until that conversation that I really started to see us as friends. Yes, she'd made mistakes in raising me. But she'd never meant to hurt me, only build me up. I'd made the mistakes worse by clinging to those memories as an excuse for my poor self-esteem.

Sherry's words came back to me:
“Jay says it's a good thing your mother showed up. It'll make you stronger.”

Was this was he meant?

Mom and I sat on the couch as we talked. When we were through I leaned over to hug her. She hugged me back, a little awkwardly maybe, but she did it. “Thank you again for being here,” I said. “I know it can't be easy leaving your job this long.”

She waved a hand. “You know how many sick days and personal days I've accumulated over the years? They owe me.”

“Did you tell them you were sick?”

“I told them my daughter needed me.”

And I did.

Sometime after midnight I crawled into bed. Tired as I was, I still couldn't sleep. I lay there praying, thanking God for sending Mom to help me. We'd need that charm of hers in our meeting with Hilderbrand. I'd probably be tongue-tied for most of it. Mom and I had become a team.

You and I are a team, too,
God seemed to say.

I smiled. Of course, I knew that.

Didn't I?

Then a moment came back to me—a fleeting realization from my stay in the hospital. At the time I'd been too drugged and amazed at my lack of depression to grasp it. Now I saw it clearly. God
had
been there every minute of my grief-stricken days. He really had. My lack of feeling Him didn't mean He'd abandoned me.

The thought so drenched me with warmth I could hardly stand it. All those days and nights I'd felt so alone—I'd been
wrong
?

I started to cry.
I didn't know, God. I didn't. But how could I have doubted You?

Then I saw the rest of it—the answer to my own questions—and the tears gushed. How could I have doubted? Because I'd believed my own emotions, that's how. My own unstable, ever-changing emotions. There I'd been, Lisa Newberry, one person among billions on this Earth. And I'd based the universal Truth of God's love for His creation, His nearness to me, on how I
felt
?

For a long time I couldn't move. My body felt pressed to the bed, even while the new knowledge filled me with lightness. God had
never
left me! It had just been
me
, stuck in my own narrow-minded, unseeing view of the world. I never needed to think that way again. If I went through new hardships—and life seemed to be full of them—I didn't have to trust my feelings. I could trust God's word. He said He'd be there. And He
was
.

My nose was running, and my head pounded. I went to the bathroom for some aspirin and tissues. After that I walked my bedroom floor in the dark, asking God for forgiveness. Begging Him to help me do better. He'd shown me this truth. Now I had to use it, live by it. But I was still such a feeble, mixed-up person.

God, I'm going to need all the help you can give me.

I don't know when I finally managed to sleep. Two o'clock, maybe? Three? I do know I drifted off with a peace I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

And I had no dreams about the murder. Not one.

The next morning Mom woke me up at 7:00. Way too soon. But I needed time to get ready. I showered and slipped into a jacket and slacks. Put on makeup and fixed my hair—as well as I could, considering it hadn't been washed and still sported a bandage.

My insides still simmered with all I'd learned the night before. I wanted to tell Mom about it but felt shy. Would she understand? Would she really
get
how deep this was for me? As it turned out, that conversation would have to wait. We spent breakfast again going over our plans for The Meeting. Mom did most of the talking. As for me, panic was setting in. (Those fickle emotions again.) We were going to see
Hilderbrand
.
The man who knew I'd threatened to sue Cognoscenti, his company. I'd nearly assaulted his girlfriend. I'd told the police he was a killer. Why should he answer any of our questions? What if all he wanted was my information? Then he'd sweep me under his exquisitely expensive carpet.

Okay, God, this is one of those times. I know You'll be with me.

Mom reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Don't worry. If you clam up, I'll take over. We'll get through this.”

I managed a smile. “Thanks.”

At 8:15 the phone rang. I got up to answer it. “That's probably Sherry.”

But the ID said Patti Stolsinger. My veins chilled. Was she cancelling the meeting? I threw Mom a wild look and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“You're going to see Bill, right?” Patti's voice was hard.

Not even a hello from her. If
she
was this bad, what would Hilderbrand be like? “I . . . yes. At 9:00.”

“Fine. I forgot to tell you one thing. It's nonnegotiable.”

“Okay.”

“Come alone.”

Chapter 27

I drove to Palo Alto, my back wooden. I could
hardly feel my hands on the wheel.

“Come alone.”

No way did Patti Stolsinger forget to tell me that last night. She'd seen firsthand how much my mother's presence stabilized me. Hilderbrand had planned Patti's last-minute call just to put me off balance.

It was working.

Mom had wanted to at least ride along with me. I told her no. What if Hilderbrand looked out his window and saw her? Would he cancel the meeting out of spite?

I pulled into a space in the Cognoscenti parking lot—and my gaze fell on a black SUV close to the building. Its license plate started with 6WB.

The sight rattled me. Hilderbrand's car. One more thing the scenes in my head had gotten right.

On shaky legs I entered the office building. Richard Mair, my old friend the security guard, was expecting me.

With camera watching, I hung the mandatory name badge around my neck and signed myself in. He looked on impassively. If he was surprised at my entrance to the holy ground of Dr. Hilderbrand, he gave no sign.

Mair told me to wait in the area with the couches. I followed his pointing finger but couldn't manage to sit.

My pulse flip-flopped.

I thought of the previous night, one without nightmares. Was that because of all my revelations? Or were the memories really going away? If I'd just waited this thing out, maybe it would have disappeared on its own. I wouldn't be here right now, my stomach tight and skin all pebbled.

“Ms. Newberry?” A female voice spoke behind me. I turned to see an impeccably suited woman with stylish red hair. “Dr. Hilderbrand will see you now. Follow me, please.”

No greeting, no handshake. Not even an introduction of herself. Hilderbrand's administrative assistant?

I followed the woman to the elevator. We rode to the top floor in silence. As we exited she motioned to turn right. “It's down at the end of the hall.”

My feet shuffled me over the carpet, a lamb led to slaughter. Ahead of us, massive double doors of carved mahogany drew near. I could almost feel their weight as I approached.

The woman knocked.

“Come in.” A voice filtered from beyond. She pushed back one door and gestured me through with her arm. I stepped over the threshold into a breathtaking office with windows on three sides. Beyond them lay a view of the Bay.

The door whooshed closed behind me.

Hilderbrand rose from his seat at a huge, ornate desk. He was taller than I'd expected, a wide-shouldered man with sandy hair and an undeniable air of self-confidence. He wore a dress shirt and tie. A suit jacket hung from an exotic coat rack in the corner.

An expanse of blue carpet separated us. I didn't move. He liked this, didn't he. Watching me sweat.

Something shifted within me. Sweating or not, I
deserved
this meeting with His Highness. After all his chip had put me through?

“Come in, Ms. Newberry.”

The voice sounded vaguely familiar. Could it be the one that shouted, “Shut up!” to Patti in my visions? I crossed to stand before Hilderbrand, chin high.

He indicated a chair on my side of the desk. “Please. Sit down.”

I obeyed.

“Would you like something to drink? I'll have Nancy bring it in.”

So that was her name. “No, thank you.”

He sat. His chair was high-backed brown leather, the front of its arms studded with brass. Hilderbrand's keen eyes looked me over. I forced myself to gaze back.

One side of his mouth turned up. “So you're the one who wants to sue Cognoscenti.”

Why
had I ever said that? “I have no intention of suing you. That was said in the heat of the moment, when your trial directors wouldn't listen to me.”

My voice sounded steady. Maybe I could really do this.

“And what were you trying to tell them?”

“That your Empowerment Chip is both miraculous and flawed.”

His eyebrows rose. “Quite a combination. Let's start with miraculous.”

“It worked. Incredibly. It cured me of my depression.”

“I'm very glad to hear that.”

So he wasn't going to claim it was a placebo?

“And . . . flawed?”

“It has data on it. Some man's memories. I thought it was you because he's in your house. And he's killing your girlfriend.”

Take that, Hilderbrand. Didn't expect me to be so direct, did you?