dollars. And Ice Queen had made it clear if I said anything to anyone, theyâd label me a crazy, vindictive woman. Plus theyâd have the paper to prove my chip was nothing but blank.
I pictured Ice Queenâs face as she first read the placebo document. And Jerryâs expression. Their reactions had seemed genuine. If that was true, and if my chip wasnât a placebo, then their boss, Mr. Vice President, had lied to themâand 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 wasnât 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 patientsâ 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. Heâd know what to do. Iâd sit on his lap and hug him, as I had so many times after my miscarriages. And heâd 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 wouldnât 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.
Thereâd be news about the homicideâwith her picture. I could search online. If I found her picture, Iâd know I was right.
But what if the crime didnât 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 phoneâs auto answer clicked on.
âLisa!â My motherâs commanding voice filled the apartment. My head jerked up.
âWhat 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 thatâs an understatement. He told me to give you this message:
ââ Donât do it.ââ
Chapter 10
I jumped up and hurried to the counter to snatch up the phone. âMom?â
Silence.
âMom?â
Sheâd 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. Iâd told them of her charm and beauty, how she always looked so perfectly put together. How sheâd tried to make me just as perfect. I told them about the drawing Iâd given my mother when I was five, only to be lectured on how I could improve it. They knew about her coldnessâa mom who rarely hugged or said âI love you.â
Cognoscenti also knew how much Ryan had helped me deal with my mother. Heâd believed in me, loved me for who I was. When I didnât even know who I was. Iâd come a far way from being under my motherâs thumb. Still, things were hardly great between us. To this day I tried to tell myself I didnât care what she thought of me. But I did.
My hand hovered over the receiver. I pulled it back.
Iâd never