Double-Back (Jake Waters Book 3) (8 page)

If she were to go back, knowing about the Professor's heart attack, then she could use that to steal the Professor's research for her own.  If she tried, and she couldn't initiate what she'd started thinking of as a Backslide of her memories, then she was no worse off, but if it were successful, then it might be worth a try.  If she failed, and she was caught, she could hopefully Backslide again and undo the attempt.  She was a little uncertain about this part, having done so little with the ability in the past for fear of what her attempts might do to her.  This situation, however, was worth some risk.

She knew all of the codes and had keys to the mansion.  She also knew where the Professor kept his pills.  She knew he hadn't checked his file cabinet in days, aware she was overseeing the storage at the moment.  She could doctor his drink Friday night, putting him to sleep, and then come in and take all the material that related to his research.  It wouldn't be hard, and wiping what little might be on the computers themselves could also be easily accomplished.  Then the next day, Saturday could be allowed to proceed as it had, except she would make a point of taking the last of the pills from his bottle of medicine when she left that night.  She would also leave one of the gas lines slightly open in the basement when she left.  Sooner or later that would trigger an explosion and fire.  When the Professor had his heart attack, he'd find no medicines.  The doctor had made it very clear that was all that had saved him.  With the Professor dead, the fire would be triggered, and would seriously damage the lab under the house.  Whether the Fire Department was able to save the house and find the Professor wouldn't matter.  Either way, she wouldn't be there, and no one should know of her presence here at the estate the last month or so.  She'd have the critical research, and would have to decide how to use it.

Most would have been shocked that someone like her could even have such thoughts.  She came by them honestly, however.  Despite her looks and brains, she'd grown up in a family with ties to Organized Crime.  Her father had almost certainly been responsible for her mother's death some years before.  Natalie had always known that.  Jeff didn't carry his gun because he was concerned about street crime.  A hard streak and immorality ran through her veins just as it did in her brother.  Both had gotten it from their father, and this might be the first time she'd actually considered such a heinous act, she didn't flinch away from her thoughts.  Here was opportunity, and she intended to take it.

In the beginning everything had worked out better than Natalie could have hoped.  The Professor had suffered his heart attack, and without the medicine had died as a result.  She felt a little bad about that, but it had only been a matter of time according to the doctors she had talked with when she'd taken him to the ER.  The basement lab was ravaged by the fire that started as a result of the small gas leak she had arranged, and the news reports suggested that no one was aware of what the Professor had been working on down there.  Any records he might have made had been destroyed in the intense fire, and only luck had prevented the whole house from burning down.  There was some speculation that the fire had triggered the Professor's heart attack, and he'd been negligent about maintaining his supply of medicine.  Natalie was aware he was a little absentminded about such matters, so the speculation was consistent with his character.  None of the reports suggested he'd had an assistant, and the police never came looking for her with any questions, which meant her recent involvement with the Professor had gone unnoticed.

She faded away with the materials she had taken from the estate.  For more than a year she kept them entirely to herself, carefully working her way through every entry until she knew them so well it was as if she had really performed the experiments herself.  She had ended up remaining at her job.  In part, she felt that making a change so soon after the death of the Professor wasn't wise.  She hadn't been linked to him, but the timing might be important later.  Also, when certain people within the company learned she was thinking of leaving, they had made her an improved offer, and agreed to change her assignment to something more to her liking if she would remain.  It seemed her talent had been noted after all.

She needed the time to plan carefully.  What she held hidden away represented potential fame and fortune beyond anything she might have imagined.  However, for her to obtain the maximum benefit from it, she needed the right environment, and a place where she could demand her own position and potential reward.  So she began a search for where she would reveal her 'discovery' and work to develop it into a viable product. 

The other thing she decided she needed to understand better was this strange ability she had been gifted with.  Despite her discomfort with it, clearly it offered something that could prove very beneficial to her in the future, if it was safe to use.  Already it had made her current situation possible, and she could envision situations where it might be prudent to understand just what she could do with it if pressed.

Clearly it worked.  She could somehow send her current thoughts and memories back to herself, and then act on that awareness of what was about to happen.  The knowledge of what was about to happen, allowed her to adjust her actions to obtain the maximum benefit for herself. 

Initially she toyed with her ability to sense her former self.  She found that difficult at first, but gradually she became better at it, although it was never easy, especially if she tried to reach back more than a few days.  Under the right circumstances, such as when she was quiet and resting, she could sometimes sense herself as far back as seven days.  That appeared to be the limit of how far she could reach.  An entire week!

The act of sending the memories back was startling to her former self at first, but soon she began to accept what was happening.  That didn't help with the physical reaction, which grew disproportionally bad as she increased the length of the time backward she attempted.  The two times she attempted seven days she thought she was going to die. 

The first attempt of the maximum time was merely to see if she could do it.  She was physically ill, and it took nearly four days for the dull throbbing in the back of her brain to finally disappear.  She only attempted it a second time because she wanted some medical test to be run to see if the ill effects of the ability were detectable as some physical manifestation.  She went to her doctor, claiming she had fallen while running a couple of days earlier, thumped her head, and had been having bad headaches ever since.  It wasn't true, but the doctor took a series of scans of her head, and declared that nothing was physically wrong.

Natalie then waited  six days, performed a Backslide a full seven days, and returned to the same appointment a second time.  Once again the doctor performed the same tests, although he had no memory of this having happened before.  She did however, and was gratified when he told her that nothing was physically wrong.  Whatever caused the headaches, it had gone undetected by the doctor.  She had received the same evaluation results both before and after the Backslide.  That gave her a little more confidence that it was safe to continue using the ability, although she decided she would do so sparingly.  Even if it wasn't dangerous, it was very unpleasant.

It never occurred to her that it might be possible to link more than one Backslide event, and extend how far she could go.  After jumping back four or more days, the throbbing was such that she couldn't sense herself for another attempt, even if she had been brave enough to make such an attempt.  Had she been very careful, she might have learned that with enough aspirin to dull the pain, she could still detect herself even farther back.

It had also never occurred to her that there might be a range limitation to her ability.  She had spent virtually all of her time in the same general area, in an around Boston and Harvard University.  Even several years later when she relocated to the Washington, DC area, she was so focused on the move and getting settled in, she didn't notice that the faint sense of her earlier herself was lost when she had traveled most of the way to the Capital city.  Even then, she'd have had to be paying close attention, because that earlier self that was only a short time back was still in range, but that earlier self back in Boston couldn't be reached.  Had she not been thinking about the matter, or attempting to reach herself a day or so earlier, she might not have noticed the distinction.  By the time she considered checking, she had been in Washington for more than ten days, and so she missed the restriction.

Just over a year and a half after the death of her former Professor, Natalie decided she had waited long enough.  She had studied potential companies where she might be able to write her own ticket, and narrowed the list to three.  All were smaller companies, and all were doing well with a series of new products developed under the guidance of a small team led by the founder of the company, who was a qualified biochemist like herself, who had managed to acquire funding for an idea, and had successfully developed a viable product.  A large company would be too restrictive.  She'd already experienced that kind of environment, and she wanted control and rewards for the secret she was about to reveal.  She also wanted a company whose CEO might be somewhat less inclined to wonder how she'd managed to develop such a find on her own.  If her new boss believed she had covertly used her previous employers resources to develop her idea, it only mattered that he didn't care.  Since her current firm didn't have any products aimed at curing diabetes, there would be no concern of theft of proprietary information.  That was important, as no one would be willing to invest in something a former employer might claim was stolen.

Quietly, she went to interview with each of the companies she had chosen.  Afterwards, she decided that East Coast Pharmaceuticals offered her the best opportunity.  Located in an older part of Washington, DC, it was far enough away from Boston to suit her, with the facilities and finances able to support what she needed.  Like a number of technical firms, East Coast Pharmaceuticals was taking advantage of a city program that offered huge incentives for companies that were willing to set up business in some of the more beat down and ragged areas of the city.  The area was rough, and somewhat dangerous, but the savings were immense.  One company that had elected to accept the city's offer, had donated the basement of their business to the city police for a substation, as a means of protecting their large monetary investment on the upper levels of the large building they built.

Natalie had bonded well with Karl Harrimon, the firm's CEO, and he had made an offer that was better than what she was receiving at the Boston firm where she had spent the last three plus years.  It was during their final negotiations, that Natalie had decided to reveal what she had been holding back.  Her deal was simple.  She would show Karl enough of her test data to allow him to evaluate whether she had something that was real.  If he elected to take her on board under her terms, she would start as a senior researcher at the pay he had offered, but with a series of specific milestones she identified, she would advance in position, up to Director of Research, and would gradually be given a percentage of the company.  Once the serum reached a certain level of validation, she would possess a one-third ownership of the small firm, and would share in the profits at that same percentage.

At that time, Karl had owned all but a sixth of the company.  That one-sixth part had been given to Anne Barker to entice her to join when Karl had realized he needed to focus on product development and needed someone to serve to seek an input of capital to fund their growth potential.  The one-third ownership that Natalie was requesting would have to come out of his pocket, but he also realized that fifty percent of a company that could produce the cure Natalie was offering was worth far more than nearly total ownership of the firm he was now in control of.  The deal was made, and Natalie submitted her resignation to her Boston firm, and relocated south.

There were those at the new firm who liked her, and those who didn't.  Chief among those who didn't was Anne Barker, who believed that Natalie had used her looks to gain her position within the company.  She would have disliked Natalie even more if she knew the details of her agreement with Karl, which they had agreed to keep secret until the test results showed that Natalie had earned her new position. 

It had taken time, and it hadn't all been easy.  Even with the Professor's notes and keen insight to provide direction, there was a lot of work to be done, much constrained by government regulations how such work must be pursued.  The first year was remarkably busy, but as they entered the second year, even Anne had come to realize they were onto something that would potentially make East Coast Pharmaceuticals one of the big names in the country.  She began to accept Natalie, and even accepted her new title when Karl gave her the promotion.

Funding the level of testing and development became an issue, and to help solicit funding, Anne had a series of news releases prepared that described the nature of their potential product, what it would offer diabetics, and who the people behind the development were.  It was Natalie's first formal recognition and taste of fame.  Unfortunately, it wasn't all a good thing.

"Who is she?" Natalie asked when Karl had called her into his office to discuss something private.

"Marsha Kellmore," Karl replied.  "She is from Boston, where you lived before.  She is also a Harvard graduate, a year behind you, and claims she was a student of a Professor Morris, also like you.  She says that he once offered her a position with him, to work on the development of a cure for diabetes.  The Professor apparently died as the result of a fire in his private residence where he had a lab of some sort.  She claims you must have stolen his research materials."

Karl had looked at her intently, as if asking her to deny the claims.

"If this is true, and she goes public with her suspicions, it could be devastating to our company."

"I want to meet her," Natalie had replied forcefully.  "Who does she think she is to make such claims?"

"So it's not true?" Karl asked.

Natalie could tell that he already believed the woman.

"Of course not," she replied, but even she could tell her denial lacked the proper intensity were it true.

"She's staying at this hotel," Karl said, sliding over a piece of paper.  "I suggest you talk with her and work this out.  Then come back and talk with me.  We have some renegotiating to do as well."

Natalie had left the office with her head spinning.  The Professor had never told her about asking someone else, but why would he?  This Marsha person hadn't taken the offer, having just joined her company.  Somehow, probably through the media releases that Anne had been pushing, Marsha had seen the reference to their research, and made the connection. 

Frightened, and not thinking very well, Natalie made her plan as she drove to the hotel.  Luck was with her, and she was able to surprise the woman in her room, the number of which was on the slip of paper Karl had given her.  Before the woman could react, Natalie knocked her unconscious with a vase.  Then she went through the woman's belongings, noting her residence, place of employment, and the document she had been preparing to support her suspicions.  There was only one thing to do.  Natalie left the unconscious woman on the floor, drove home, memorized the key information, and performed a Backslide to Friday night, a few days earlier.  Then she made flight reservations to Boston.  She had noted the woman hadn't flown into Washington until Monday morning.  Finally, she called her brother Jeff in New York, explained she needed his help and that she would meet him in Boston at her hotel Saturday morning.

Jeff had been shocked at what she proposed.  He'd always been the renegade, and she'd been the scholar.  He knew nothing of what Natalie had done to the Professor, and the fact she wanted someone eliminated wasn't something he'd been expecting to hear.  Even so, they managed to abduct the woman, dispose of her body, and make a careful check of the house for any materials that might point toward her suspicions of Natalie.  Then Jeff arranged for an electrical fire to break out late on Sunday night.  When Natalie had flown back to Washington, the disruptive arrival of Miss Kellmore had been prevented, and everything was normal as before.