The Cure (10 page)

“Rat hearts,” said the tech.

The hearts beat with inhuman speed.
Thump thump! Thump thump! Thump thump!
Erin’s lips curled up in disgust.
Grisly was an understatement,
she thought. “So rat hearts will keep beating, even without the rat,” she mused. “Who knew?”

The tech took a quick detour into a doorway where a female lab technician in a long white lab coat held a rat by its tail. She set it down and deftly placed a two-pronged metal probe, which resembled a small tuning fork, quickly into the rat’s beady red eyes, while simultaneously pressing a button that delivered a powerful jolt of electricity directly into them. The rat went into a convulsion and she carefully recorded the duration of this in a lab notebook that was open on the table.

“Ah … I think I’ve seen enough,” said Erin. She was able to seal off her traumatic memories, but there was no need to push it. “Not that I don’t appreciate the tour. This was really interesting, in a
torture-chamber-straight-out-of-a-horror-film
sort of way. But I should be surprising Dr. Raborn while the surprising is good.”

The tech nodded. “You got it.” He led her another thirty yards, took a left, and stopped in front of an office. The outside had a placard that read Dr. Hugh Raborn, M.D./Ph.D., Vice President, Neuroscience.

Erin’s pulse raced. The moment of truth had arrived.

Raborn’s door was open and he was busily typing into his computer as they approached. Erin stood at the door, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach and hoping her face wasn’t flush from the excitement she was feeling.

“Dr. Raborn, an old friend of yours is here to see you,” said the lab tech, gesturing toward Erin standing slightly behind him.

Raborn looked up from his computer and his eyes fell upon Erin. He looked her up and down for several seconds, his face expressionless. Finally, he turned back to the technician. “Troy, if this is some kind of joke, I’m afraid I’m missing the punch line.”

Erin’s jaw dropped open at the sound of his voice. For just a moment she was unable even to speak.

“She said she was an old friend of yours and wanted to surprise you,” said the technician, inching away from Erin and now studying her suspiciously.

Raborn shook his head. “I’ve never seen this woman before in my life,” he insisted.

9

ERIN FELT DIZZY
and could barely breathe. This was certainly the face she had seen on her computer monitor for years, there could be no doubt about it. Same name, same credentials, same company.

But it wasn’t the same man.

She could hear the difference in his voice immediately. The man she knew so well was more of a tenor, whereas this one had more bass. The other spoke perfect English, but there was a hint of an accent that she had never been able to really define—although since he had been born and raised in the U.S. it must have been a regional accent that he was trying to change or conceal. The man in front of her spoke with no accent whatsoever.

What was going on?

What kind of game was he playing?

It was totally impossible for him
not
to be the man she had worked with for two years. Not only was he Hugh Raborn in appearance, but his title and company were those of the man she knew. People could put on different voices if they wanted. Celebrity impersonators could sound exactly like just about anyone.

But if he
was
just acting, just screwing with her mind for some reason, he would still have betrayed at least a hint of recognition during the first instant he had seen her outside of his office. And he had not. No one could fake their reaction to a complete surprise that well. No one.

On the other hand, this
had
to be him. No other explanation was possible.

So should she challenge him? Make a scene and insist he use his real voice? Her instincts told her not to. She needed to have time to think things through.

All of this analysis flashed across her mind in seconds. “My mistake,” she croaked. “I guess the surprise is on me. I feel like an idiot. The friend I wanted to surprise is also named Hugh Raborn, and also lives in San Diego. But it just goes to show, you shouldn’t Google people and try to surprise them without checking first.”

Both Raborn and the tech named Troy eyed her as though she were a terrorist with a bomb strapped to her chest. Raborn looked as if he was deciding if he should call the police.

“Sorry about this,” continued Erin. She immediately turned to the lab tech. “Troy, if you could lead me out of here, I’ll get out of your hair right away and find the right person.”

Raborn’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t take any pictures, did she?” he asked Troy.

The lab technician shook his head. “None.”

“Did she have her cell phone out at any time? She could have snapped off a bunch without you realizing.”

“No. She never had it out.”

Raborn caught Erin’s eye and sighed. “Look,” he said, “I know you’ll never understand this, but we try to be as humane as we can be. Testing in animals leads to drugs that save millions of human lives throughout the world. Most of us are animal lovers. Really. I have two dogs at home that I love like children. But we don’t have any choice. We’re required to test our drugs in animals before we test them in humans.”

Erin winced. “I’m really not here about animal rights,” she said. “And I don’t mean you any harm. I just made an innocent mistake. You can both escort me out of here if you’d like.” She frowned deeply. “I’m just as eager to leave as you are to see me go.”

10

ERIN PULLED OFF
the road into a mini-mall and parked so she could take stock of what had just happened. Her mind was reeling.

She was faced with two impossible conclusions. Either Raborn had an identical twin, a doppelgänger—who just happened to share his name, title, and company—or he was playing some kind of sick game. She still didn’t believe he could have faked his initial reaction to her so completely. So maybe he
had
known she was coming. As unlikely as this was, it seemed to make more sense than the alternatives.

She was engaged in illegal activity for him, after all. Maybe he had decided to pretend not to know her. So if she were caught, he could deny everything. He hadn’t seemed the type. But the more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t think of any other explanation that could possibly fit the facts.

Her hands balled into fists of their own volition. So if she called him in private, would he suddenly admit that he knew her, and make up some excuse for his charade? Would he apologize profusely?

You’d think he could have given her some indication. A wink. Anything. He could have told Troy he wanted to personally escort her from the premises, and then while alone with her whispered that he wanted to keep their relationship clandestine for reasons he would explain later.

Or had she been working with someone who had multiple personality disorder? That would be ironic, she thought. Maybe one of his personalities was psychopathic, and the other was a crusader against psychopathy.

She removed her phone from her pocket and took a deep breath. She hit the speed dial to Raborn’s private cell phone. This ought to be interesting. She was furious, and if he thought she’d be forgiving him in this lifetime, he was seriously deluded.

So much for romance,
she thought bitterly.

The phone was answered on the third ring. “Hi, Erin,” said an enthusiastic voice. “How are things?”

The voice at the other end was one she knew well, not the one she had just heard at Asclepius.
“Don’t give me that shit!”
she spat. “What kind of game are you playing here, Hugh? If you didn’t want to admit you knew me, you could have at least winked or something.”

“What are you talking about?”
said Raborn.

“What I’m talking about is you pretending not to know me when I visited your office, you shithead. What I’m talking about is you putting on another voice all this time we’ve been Skyping. What, do you use a different voice for each of your accomplices?”

“You visited Asclepius?”
said Raborn in alarm.

Erin shook her head in confusion. She wanted to reach through the phone and choke him to death, tell him that of course he knew she had visited Asclepius, but there was something in his tone that compelled her to take his question seriously. “Yes. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Uh-oh,” said Raborn. “That couldn’t have gone well.”

“You were there. You know exactly how it went.”

“I wasn’t there. You must have spoken to the real Dr. Hugh Raborn. Who had no clue who you were.” He paused. “I’m sure you’re pissed off beyond words right now. And I don’t blame you.”

“So why don’t you explain what the hell is going on.”

“Well, obviously I’m not Dr. Raborn. I lied to you. But I had good reason,” he hastened to add.

“Let me guess. You’re his identical twin—but with a different voice.”

“No. No relation. I just needed credibility when I contacted you the first time. And I knew you’d check my background. So I took his identity. When we video chat, I have software that turns my face into his for transmission.”

Erin shook her head adamantly. “Impossible,” she said. “No technology is that good. Your lips and expression match your words perfectly. If there was software out there that could instantly transform your every last expression and lip movement onto a template face, and do it so seamlessly that it could fool someone over dozens of calls, I’d know about it.”

“I’ll explain everything,” said the voice at the other end of the line. “Really.”

“What should I even call you?” she said angrily, her rage intensified even further by the extreme hurt she was feeling. She had been betrayed by someone she had come to think of as a friend and scientific colleague. A man for whom she had made a pact with the devil to assist.

“You could just stick with Raborn, if you want. After two years, using a different name for me might not be ideal.”

“Not
ideal?
” spat Erin. “Continuing to use the name of someone you’ve been impersonating,
someone you’re not,
isn’t exactly what I’d call ideal either. So what’s your name? Your
real
name this time.”

“Drake.”

“Is that a first or last name?” said Erin.

“Both,” he said, and then before they could discuss it further he added, “Look, Erin, I don’t blame you for being furious. But I know you’ll understand once I explain things. But before we go any further, tell me why you came to visit unannounced.”

“Are you suggesting this is my fault? Because I attempted a surprise? Look, I don’t have to explain
my
actions. You have to explain yours.”

“I’m not blaming you in any way,” he replied quickly. “This is entirely my fault. One hundred percent. I deceived you and I’ll explain why to your satisfaction. But before we go further, I’d like to know. A surprise visit to San Diego isn’t at all like you. So I have a guess as to what it might be.”

She considered her response for several seconds and then said, “Your guess is right. I found it. I found the combination that reverses psychopathy.”

“Outstanding!” he whispered exultingly. “Unbelievable! I thought it would take another year at least.”

“So did I,” she admitted. And then, as if testing it on for size added, “Drake.”

She had gotten lucky. She had won the lottery. There was no guarantee her efforts would ever succeed, since mice and men were not the same, after all. And even if a cure existed, it could easily have taken her years more to find. And there could have been more fatalities than just three, although given the suspicion that these were beginning to arouse, if one more fatality had occurred she would have had to pull up stakes immediately, with or without a cure.

“I found it about a month ago. I didn’t want to tell you until I’d confirmed it in a large number of inmates.”

“And it worked on all of them?” said Raborn/Drake excitedly. “Total reversal in each case?”

“Yes. Within a few days of administration. On over fifty subjects. Not just the physiology, but the brain patterns in response to emotionally charged words. Everything. We have the absolute cure for psychopathy.”

“Incredible.”

Erin nodded. In the grand scheme of things, this made the parting of the Red Sea seem like a cheap parlor trick.

“Congratulations, Erin. I know you took all the risk, and the heat. I’m forever in your debt.” He paused. “So what was the winning dose combination?”

“That’s one of the things I was coming here to tell you. But now I don’t know which end is up. I’d be an idiot to trust you with this after you’ve just admitted to a grand deception, starting the first second we ever spoke. I was prepared to tell Raborn. Not Drake,” she added pointedly.

“Whoever I am, I’m still the one who made this possible. This is the culmination of considerable time and financial resources on my part. You
have
to tell me.
Right now
.” There was suddenly a menacing edge to his voice.

“I don’t
have
to do anything. And I won’t. Not until I understand what’s going on here.”

A heavy sigh came over the phone. “You’re right,” he said. “Sorry. I’ve got some trust to earn back. Okay, keep the combination secret. That’s fine. But once I’ve explained why I’ve done what I’ve done, you’ll understand. Then you can give me the secret and we can cure this condition once and for all.”

“Are you even in San Diego … Drake?” she asked, purposely using this name more often than she normally would to begin to train her mind to a new reality.

There was a pause. “No. I live in Arizona, believe it or not. Near Yuma. Why don’t we plan to meet tomorrow afternoon at the University of Arizona Student Union. On your home turf. In front of the bookstore entrance. I’ll tell you everything. Say one thirty?”

Erin had the almost irresistible urge to agree, but as desperate as she was to get to the bottom of his deception, she couldn’t do that to Courtney. She
wouldn’t
do that to Courtney. Especially since her friend had called in favors to take the day off to be with her.