Double Blind (29 page)

“Lisa, tell me.”

I folded my arms, chilled. “You know how sometimes you just feel things? And you can't prove anything, but you just know. Or maybe you don't even know exactly
what
, but something . . .”

Yeah, like I “knew” Patti had been murdered when she hadn't.

Sherry pulled into a parking spot at the curb in front of my apartment building. Her brow knit. “Yeah.”

I looked up at my living room window. Why had I let us get into this conversation? “So there's these . . . things. One is that date I saw on Hilderbrand's watch. Monday, March 19.”

“What about it?” Sherry put the car in Park.

“It's today. Why did it show that date?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. Could have been any date, I suppose.”

“And why was the watch one that Hilderbrand really owns?”

“Well, you don't really know that, right? Patti said it wasn't.”

“She was lying. I could tell that right away.”

“Just by looking at her?”

“Come on, Sherry, don't you know when your kids are lying just by looking at them?”

“They're kids, Lisa. Which makes them bad liars.”

“So Patti's a bad liar.”

Sherry lifted both hands. “Okay.”

She wasn't getting this at all. “Also I think he abuses Patti. Or at least he loses his temper—badly. She's scared of him.”

“She didn't tell you that either, did she?”

Okay, this was getting just plain irritating.

Sherry caught my expression. “Look, Lisa, I don't know why you're worrying about this now. It's over. You've got a perfectly working chip in your brain, and you don't have to think about those people ever again.”

She was right. But I couldn't help it.

Sherry squeezed my arm. “I just want to see you better. It's been a terrible week for you. A terrible
year
. Now you can put it behind you.”

I know, but . . .
Couldn't she see how all these things were adding up?

To what?

“Yeah, I know. I want to put it all behind me.”

She smiled. “And you will. Right now you're just tired. You need to get into your apartment and rest.” Sherry turned off the engine. “Come on. Let's get you settled.”

I sighed again and got out of the car.

Sherry carried my suitcase up the stairs for me. When we got into the apartment she checked the cupboards and refrigerator, making sure I had everything I needed.

“I'm set, Sherry. Mom already did all that. I know you need to go.”

She looked me over. “I don't like leaving you alone.”

“I'll be fine. I'm just going to sleep.”

She bit her lip. “Call me when you wake up?”

“Promise.”

“Yeah? Just make sure you follow through better than last time.”

I deserved that. “I will.”

She gave me a long hug and reluctantly left.

I bolted the door behind her, wishing I could call Mom and tell her I was home. But my mother was tied up in meetings all day. I'd have to wait till evening.

I turned around and faced my apartment. Nine days ago at this same moment, I'd seen the suitcase for the first time. And I'd begun to go flat out crazy.

Now—blessed nothing.

All the same, for some reason I pictured the eye of a storm. That humming stillness before the world exploded.

Chapter 34

A ringing phone woke me from a dreamless sleep. I
blinked a few times and stretched out my arm, fumbling for the receiver. “Hello?” My voice sounded thick.

“Lisa? This is Agnes Brighton.”

It took a minute to place the name. “Hi, Agnes.”

“I'm sorry, did I wake you?”

“It's okay.” I pushed myself to sit up against the headboard. “I was just . . . resting.”

“I am sorry. I'll be brief. You wanted me to call you if I remembered where I'd seen the photo of the drawing I did for you. Your victim?”

My chin dropped. She was a little late. “Uh-huh.”

“I remembered where I'd seen her. And by the way, I suppose you know by now a policeman called me about the case.”

The case that wasn't, she meant. Although Officer Bremer had probably only asked Agnes questions, not told her the outcome of his investigation. “Yeah, I know.”

“Anyway I saw the woman in your drawing about four to five weeks ago at a jewelry store in Redwood City. She was with a man, but it looked like they'd come in separate cars. I was only in there for a couple minutes when she was there. They were looking at engagement rings. She and I left about the same time.”

Engagement rings. Patti must have been with Hilderbrand. “What jewelry store?”

She hesitated. “If you hadn't asked me, I'd be able to tell you.” Another pause. “Oh, I just can't remember. Anyway, it's on the south end of Redwood City on El Camino, just above the Atherton border.”

Hilderbrand's driving route from the murder scenes flashed in my head. He'd passed a jewelry store on El Camino. “Does the building sort of look like a house?”

“Yes. It's on your right when you're headed south.”

That was the one.

“Does this help you, Lisa?”

“Yes, thanks.” I didn't want to tell her I'd found the woman days ago—alive. Not a conversation I cared to get into. “What made you remember this now?”

“I was in that jewelry store again. They've been fixing a bracelet for me, something I recently inherited. I went to pick it up. And—boom, it hit me. I could picture her at the counter.”

The mysteries of memory. “Thanks, Agnes. I really appreciate your calling.”

“You're welcome. I'm just sorry to think she's dead. She was a beautiful woman.”

Oh, man. At some point I should tell her the truth. “Yeah.”

“Should I call Officer Bremer and give him this information?”

But how could I tell her the truth? I wasn't allowed to talk about my experience with Cognoscenti with anyone. And there was no way to explain without doing that. “You've done enough. I'll handle it. Thanks again.”

We said our good-byes and hung up. I scooted down on the bed and stared at the far wall.

Patti and Hilderbrand, looking at engagement rings. But here it was—what did Agnes say?—four or five weeks later, and Patti wasn't wearing a ring.

Four to five weeks.
Why did that seem significant?

I pushed from bed and headed into the kitchen, where I kept a small calendar in a drawer. I pulled it out and counted back five weeks. And landed on February 12.

Four days before February 16—the original date Mom and I had calculated for Patti's murder.

Yeah, so? The murder never happened. I shoved the calendar back in the drawer.

The clock read 3:35. If Mom was here, she'd be making me eat. I dropped into a chair at the table and tried to clear my head.
Why
did Agnes's call bug me so much?

My last vision had shown 5:35 on Hilderbrand's watch—one I was convinced he really owned. And today's date.
Today
.

Which meant nothing. The first date was clearly wrong. Why shouldn't this one be wrong too?

Because this time I saw his real watch.

What did that matter?

Then it hit me. Hilderbrand had tried to keep me in the hospital an extra day. Until tomorrow. He'd suggested that before he even knew of my final vision about his watch and today's date.

What did this mean?

Nothing, that's what. Thinking about it was stupid.

My head throbbed. I needed aspirin. And something to eat. My legs felt weak.

A jewelry store. Patti had left before Hilderbrand . . .

Why did he stay? Didn't look like he'd bought her a ring. Unless he just hadn't given it to her yet. But Patti hadn't mentioned expecting a ring from him.

But why should she tell
me
that?

Maybe she
was
expecting a proposal from him. Maybe that's why she seemed to be rethinking the relationship.

Had Hilderbrand lied to her? Had he stayed in the store after Patti left to make her think he'd bought her a ring?

What if he had? Why should it even matter to me?

I checked the clock again, and my stomach rumbled. How I wanted to simply eat and rest. But this news, on top of everything else that nibbled at my gut . . .

Patti was in danger. That was the thought I couldn't shake. In fact the more I tried, the stronger I believed it was true. And if I didn't explore this . . . whatever it was, I would live to regret it.

The jewelry store.

Let it go, Lisa.

Maybe I could find something out at that store.

Let. It. Go.

But I couldn't.

So strange, the way that agonizing decision played out. I can't even remember making a conscious choice. Almost like my brain made it for me. I just knew I had to go. I felt it in my gut.

But I wasn't going anywhere without eating first. I grabbed a yogurt from the refrigerator and dumped it in a bowl with some granola. I forced myself to eat it all. My mother would be so proud of me. When I was done I swallowed two aspirin.

Then I went to the bedroom to try to make myself presentable. A little hard, with a bandage on my head, dirty hair, and all the tiredness sagging my face.

Why was I going to that jewelry store? What could I possibly say when I got there?

I fired up the Internet and found the picture of Patti and Hilderbrand that Mom and I had seen. I printed it out in color and folded it into my purse. Just in case. Next thing I knew, I was in my living room, gazing bleary-eyed at the walls. Wondering what was happening to me. Why I had to do this.

Apprehension crackled in my veins. I stepped out of my apartment and bolted the door behind me.

Chapter 35

The digital clock in my car read 4:19 when I pulled
into a parking spot outside the jewelry store. I gathered my purse and got out of the car. Even though I'd eaten I still felt unsteady. Once I put this thing to rest, I'd go home and go to bed.

So I told myself.

My heart thudded as I entered the store. Two long display cases sat on my left. To the right was a door disappearing into . . . offices, maybe? A thirty-something man greeted me from behind one of the displays. His brown eyes grazed my bandaged head, then slid away. “May I help you?”

Words froze on my tongue. What to say? My conscience twinged at the thought of lying. But I couldn't tell the truth. “I . . . um. I have a friend.” I approached him, the case between us. Jewelry with sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds sparkled up from the glass.

“Yes?” He was smiling. That's what salesmen did with customers. All the same he had to wonder. I knew I looked a sight.

I spotted a wedding ring on his finger.

Gently I touched my bandage. “I'm sorry I look so terrible. I just got out of the hospital after a little . . . procedure.”

Empathy flicked across his face. “Oh, no problem. Are you all right?”

“Yes, just tired.” Might as well milk all the sympathy I could from this married man. Maybe he'd picture his own wife in the situation. “I'll go home and lie down when I'm done here.”

“Sure. There's a stool behind you. Would you like to get off your feet?”

I looked over my shoulder. “Yes, thanks.” I took the folded picture of Patti and Hilderbrand from my purse, then set the bag on the floor. Pulled the stool a foot closer to the jewelry case and sat.

“So.” The man spread his hands. “How can I help you? My name's Michael, by the way.”

“Hi, Michael.” I worked to keep my fingers from trembling as I unfolded the picture. I still had little idea what I was going to say.

“This is my friend and her boyfriend.” I turned the printout to face him and laid it on the counter. “I think they came in last month to look at engagement rings. Do you recognize them, by any chance?”