Chapter Fifty-Five. Riley, Present Day
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
RILEY, PRESENT DAY
“I suppose I shouldn’t be so shocked,” Betty says. “Many men enjoy smoking pipes. The smell just brought me back to a terrible time.”
“Actually, it isn’t nearly as common today as it was in the sixties,” I explain. “And something else seems off to me.”
Betty tilts her head. “What is it, dear?”
I pull to the side of the road and slide my gearshift into park so I can devote my full attention to our conversation.
“Sam is clearly interested in his grandfather’s work.
The book, the screenplay, plus those Seekers meetings he holds.
But smoking the same flavor of tobacco in what might have been his grandfather’s pipe is next level.
It makes me wonder what else he could be replicating. ”
Betty’s hands wring together. “For a moment, I had the wild thought Dr. Trimble had stepped into the house right before we arrived, leaving his pipe behind. I felt such terror. All I wanted to do was hide. But do you know what, Riley? I’ve spent most of my life hiding.”
I finally ask the question that’s been gnawing at me: “What were you hiding from?”
She doesn’t answer for a long moment. I watch as a red pickup truck comes down the street, gliding over a speed bump before passing us by.
“I suppose saying I was being hidden is more accurate. After Douglas learned what Dr. Trimble had done to us, he felt such remorse. You see, I wasn’t quite myself when I returned from the library experiments.
I was jittery and forgetful. I had terrible nightmares.
And there was another physical condition that made me weepy… ”
Betty’s face twists and I wonder what painful memory she’s enduring.
“The final step in the experiments…” Betty takes a deep breath. “Dr. Trimble wanted to break us girls apart.”
“Break you?” I repeat. “Why?”
“He explained it to Douglas. He needed to prove the inverse of his hypothesis, that our gifts were amplified by our connection. He shattered our friendships to document the negative effect it had on our abilities.”
“He sounds sadistic.”
“Douglas regretted ever getting me involved with the institute. I thought we ran away because Douglas knew Dr. Trimble’s paper would bring tremendous attention to me and my friends.
He was terrified of what might happen. He thought at the very least, I’d become a curiosity.
He also feared the government could claim me, or that someone could kidnap me to exploit my gifts.
I suppose he became a bit paranoid. So he bought our little house and tucked me away inside. And somehow the decades slipped by.”
Betty looks down at her wedding ring, twisting the old golden circle around her thin finger.
“But I think there was another reason we ran away. Douglas must have found out what happened to my friends. He was so panicked the morning we left—I’d never seen him in such a state. He never breathed a word to me about it, though.”
I’m about to reply when I catch sight of another car coming toward us, slowing for the speed bump. It isn’t the vehicle that makes me do a double take. It’s the passenger and driver I glimpse through the windshield.
My brain registers the information in a flash, sending what feels like an electric current through my body. But it takes my conscious mind an extra beat to identify what I’m seeing: two middle-aged women who look alike. Straw-straight blond hair. The sisters from the Seekers Collective.
They’re staring straight ahead and don’t appear to notice me. I twist around as they pass us and watch their sedan continue in the direction of Sam Trimble’s house. It’s a dark, four-door car, just like the one I thought might have been following me the other night.
“What are you thinking?” Betty asks. “Quickly, tell me. Don’t censor yourself.”
“Sam couldn’t do the experiments alone. He isn’t disciplined enough. He’d need someone smart and methodical. A partner—or even better, two.”
“Two partners,” Betty repeats.
I cast my mind back to my brief conversation with the sisters and describe it to her in detail. Sam had told them I wanted to learn about his grandfather’s work. Was that seemingly offhand remark a secret signal to them?
They could have followed me home to learn where I live.
They could have gotten my phone number from Sam.
The anonymous text message to get Betty and me out of the house so someone could search felt deliberately vague: I have the information you’re looking for.
Meet me at noon tomorrow at the Starbucks on Pine Street.
I’d assumed Josh sent it and didn’t want to write anything incriminating. But maybe it could have been from the sisters, dangling bait to get me to leave the house—so they could get in and see what information I might already have collected.
“We’re going back to Sam’s house,” Betty says. It isn’t a question. “I can’t imagine he’s doing experiments there—but just in case. He could have Alex.”
“I don’t know how he could be connected to Alex, but it’s possible. Or maybe her connection was to the sisters.”
I start to drive slowly, thinking through possibilities. Samuel and the sisters know what I look like but they have no idea I’m with Betty. Even if they scoured the Internet—and even if they were the ones who invaded Betty’s home—they’d never find a single photo of her past the age of twenty-one.
I park a few doors down from Sam’s house and turn off the car.
“How can we get inside?” Betty asks.
“I have an idea,” I tell her. “How good of an actress are you?”