Chapter 5 - The Christmas Eve Experiment
Richard closed the door behind him.
Cole aimed his gun.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Richard ignored him.
He looked at me.
“You were never supposed to remember Winter Glass.”
“I don’t.”
“That was the point.”
Daniel moved between us.
“You tested chemicals on Claire when she was a child?”
Richard’s face remained calm.
“Her mother volunteered her.”
I nearly crossed the room and struck him.
“My mother would never do that.”
“You did not know your mother.”
“I knew enough.”
“No. You knew the woman we allowed you to remember.”
Cole tightened his grip on the gun.
“Explain the program.”
Richard glanced at his wound.
“You are losing blood, Detective.”
“Talk.”
Winter Glass had been developed as a treatment for severe trauma.
At least, that was the official purpose.
The real objective was memory alteration.
Fear reduction.
Behavioral compliance.
Richard funded the private trials through Whitmore Pharmaceuticals.
Children were easier to influence.
I had been one of them.
My mother discovered the program was causing seizures and permanent memory loss.
She threatened to expose it.
Richard arranged her death.
The words entered the room without emotion.
Daniel lunged at him.
I caught his arm.
“Emma.”
Our daughter watched from the cot, pale and frightened.
Richard looked at her.
“She was not supposed to touch the cream.”
“You keep saying that,” I said. “Why was it meant for me?”
“Because your memories have started returning.”
I thought of the nightmares that began three months earlier.
A white room.
Christmas music playing through ceiling speakers.
My mother screaming my name.
A silver jar.
A man in a red tie.
Richard had worn a red tie that morning.
“How did you know?”
“You visited Dr. Evelyn Shaw.”
My therapist.
“She works for you?”
“She reports unusual recall patterns.”
Daniel’s face changed.
He had recommended Dr. Shaw.
Richard saw it.
“You led Claire directly back to us, son.”
Daniel looked sick.
“I didn’t know.”
“You rarely do.”
Richard turned toward the ledger.
“Give it to me and I will allow Emma to leave.”
Cole laughed bitterly.
“You have armed men upstairs. You’re not allowing anyone anywhere.”
“They no longer answer to me.”
That stopped us.
“Who do they answer to?” Daniel asked.
Richard looked toward the ceiling.
“Your wife.”
I stared at him.
“Claire is standing here.”
“Not Claire.”
His eyes moved toward Daniel.
“Your first wife.”
Daniel went pale.
He had been married before me.
A woman named Rebecca Lane.
He told me she died in a boating accident twelve years ago.
Another accident.
Another missing body.
A speaker in the medical room activated.
A woman’s voice spoke.
“Merry Christmas, Daniel.”
He stopped breathing.
Rebecca.
Alive.
She continued.
“Bring me the ledger and the girl, or I burn the house with everyone inside.”
Emma grabbed my hand.
Daniel looked at Richard.
“You told me she was dead.”
May you like
Richard smiled without warmth.
“I told you what grief required.”
