BY THE TIME Tess got to the library, it was closed, so she spent the evening on a patch of lawn, eating maple taffy for dinner and going through the notes Jackson had made from the journal, summarizing them and adding questions in the margins. Busy work, really, to keep her from thinking about Jackson himself.
She longed to call Billy and talk about it. There were also a couple of the girls she’d like to call, but she had no idea how to reach them, and it didn’t really matter, because they’d be as useful—or not useful—as Billy. All would commiserate, but none would really be able to offer her sound advice on a boy.
Jackson certainly wasn’t her boyfriend, but aspects of the relationship were the same. You meet someone and you fall for them fast, and then when they turn out not to be what you thought, you’re left lost and confused. Regular friendships weren’t like that—at least, not the ones she’d had in Hope, where she’d known people forever and friendships blossomed slowly.
Had she been too hard on Jackson? She didn’t think so, but a second opinion—and third and possibly fourth—would help.
He’d said that fumbling through his declaration proved it was genuine, but that was ridiculous. The fact he’d fumbled with it only proved he’d been making it up as he went along, forcing himself through a lie.
She wouldn’t think about that. Or she’d try not to. She worked until dark, then went to bed and…and nothing. She lay there for almost two hours before getting up again.
What could she do at midnight? The answer was obvious. It would be the perfect time to return to Ravenscrag. To seek the answers that had been denied earlier. To conjure up “ghosts” of the past with only a sleepy security guard to stop her.
Tess slipped from her dorm and into the night. It was a short walk to Ravenscrag, but she headed in the opposite direction. Toward Jackson’s dorm. She wouldn’t do something that could get them both in trouble without warning him first and, hopefully, enlisting his help. If he refused to help, that wouldn’t stop her. She just wanted to give him a choice.
The problem came when she reached his dorm. Dorms were cheap and convenient for students, but they weren’t hotels. There were rules, and a matron on duty ready to enforce the one that didn’t allow visitors this late.
Tess surveyed the windows. If she had any idea which was Jackson’s, she could throw pebbles. She peered inside. The matron was reading Mademoiselle, though in Tess’s opinion, she was a little old for it. Regardless, the magazine engrossed her, and Tess could probably sneak past. Then what? She didn’t know Jackson’s room number.
Tess opened the front door. The matron lowered her magazine and raised a scowl.
“Bonsoir,” Tess said. “Pardonnez-moi…” She noticed the magazine was the English version and switched language. “My cousin is staying here, and I’ve had an urgent message for him. Our grandfather is in the hospital and has taken a turn for the worse. My cousin needs to come right away. May I speak to him?”
The woman eyed her, and Tess wondered if her performance had been less convincing than she thought, but after a moment the woman harrumphed and said, “Name?”
“Jackson Labine.”
“The Indian boy?”
“Métis, but yes. Could I—”
“He isn’t here. Left about a half hour ago.”
“Did you see where he went?”
“Out.” The matron paused, then relented, adding, “He got a phone call from a man. He took it, went back to his room and then hurried off a few minutes later. It must have been about your grandfather.”
Tess thanked her and left. Outside, she walked across the lawn, damp now as dew collected. Where would Jackson go at this hour?
The caller must have been the mystery man. He’d phoned Jackson’s home and been given the dorm number. If he’d called the dorm, he wanted to speak privately again.
Tess looked around. Where was the nearest pay phone?
She didn’t walk far before she heard Jackson’s voice.
“Thank you for this,” he was saying in French. “I appreciate it.”
Another voice, one that teased at Tess’s memory. “You roused my curiosity. I was hardly going to be able to sit in my office after that.” The man laughed, and that’s when Tess recognized him as Dr. Augustin.
After a moment she saw them crossing the lawn, taking a shortcut between two dark buildings. Their voices carried through the quiet night.
“I apologize for the lateness of the hour,” Dr. Augustin said. “I hope you were not sleeping.”
“No. Working on this case. I think I found another connection earlier, and I was trying to puzzle it out before I saw Tess tomorrow.”
Dr. Augustin chuckled. “Wanted to impress the girl, did you?”
“I…I did something stupid. She’s upset with me, and she has good reason to be, so I’m trying to make it up to her. Which is why I’m glad you have more for me. I really want to have something to show her tomorrow.”
Tess broke into a jog as the two disappeared into the dark gap between buildings. Their voices drifted back to her.
“I think it is about more than apologizing,” Dr. Augustin said. “You are, how do they say it? Sweet on the girl?”
An embarrassed laugh from Jackson. “I don’t think they’ve said it like that in about twenty years. Mostly this is about apologizing for a mistake. A big one.”
“Apologizing to a pretty girl is never a bad thing.”
“About the case. You mentioned off-campus experiments predating Cameron’s work.”
Tess reached the gap between buildings. She could see them ahead. She hesitated, not wanting to eavesdrop but not wanting to announce herself either, in case Dr. Augustin wouldn’t speak as freely in front of a stranger.
“That’s exactly what I’m looking for,” Jackson said. “Earlier experiments that weren’t linked to McGill. Specifically, ones near a town called Sainte-Suzanne.”
“Yes,” Dr. Augustin said. “I know all about Sainte-Suzanne.”
He reached up and clapped Jackson on his bare arm. Jackson let out a yelp and spun.
“What?” Jackson stumbled backward, staring down at Dr. Augustin’s outstretched hand. “Wh-what did you…?” The words came slower now, slurred. Then Jackson collapsed. And the two figures disappeared.