After a moment, North’s face appeared in the reflection.
“Well?” she said.
“I haven’t found her yet.”
Alex flicked the surface of the water with her finger and watched his reflection fracture. “Seems like you’re not much good at this.”
When the water stilled, North’s expression was grim. “And what have you
discovered?”
“You were right. Darlington was interested in your case. But his notes weren’t in his desk at Il Bastone. I can look at Black Elm tomorrow night.” When the new moon would
rise. Maybe then Darlington would be able to answer the Bridegroom’s questions himself.
“And?”
“And what?”
“What did you see when you were in my head, Miss Stern? You were distressed when
you cast me out.”
Alex contemplated how much she wanted to tell him. “What do you remember from
the moment you died, North?”
His face seemed to go still, and she realized she’d spoken his name out loud. Damn it.
“Is that what you saw?” he asked slowly. “My death?”
“Just answer me.”
“Nothing,” he admitted. “One moment I was standing in my new office, talking to
Daisy, and then … I was no one. The mortal world was lost to me.”
“You were on the other side.” Alex could see how that could mess with your head.
“Did you ever try to find Gladys O’Donaghue behind the Veil?”
“Who?”
“Daisy’s maid.”
North frowned. “The police interviewed her. She found our … bodies, but she wasn’t
even there to witness the crime.”
“And she was just a maid?” said Alex. Guys like this never noticed the help. But North
was right. Alex had spotted Gladys outside enjoying the spring weather herself. If Gladys
had seen or heard something strange at the scene, she had every reason to share that information with the police. And Alex suspected there had been no one to see—just magic, invisible and wild, the frightened spirit of a man who had been brutalized by the
Bonesmen and somehow found his way into North. “I’ll let you know what I find at Black
Elm. Quit following me around and go hunt down Tara.”
“What did you see in my head, Miss Stern?”
“Sorry! You’re breaking up!” Alex released the plug in the drain.
She headed out of the common room and texted Turner that she was on her way to the
Marsh greenhouses. On her way, she placed a phone call to the hospital to ask after Michael Reyes. She should have checked in on the victima from Skull and Bones’s latest prognostication sooner, but she’d been more than a little distracted. It took her a while to
get the right person on the line, but eventually Jean Gatdula came on to tell her that Reyes
was recovering well and would be sent home in the next two days. Alex knew “home” was
Columbus House, a shelter far away from campus. She hoped Bones at least left him with
a pocketful of cash for his trouble.
The Marsh Botanical Garden sat at the top of Science Hill, the old mansion topped by
what looked like a bell tower, the grounds of the former estate rolling down the slope toward the apartment Tara had shared with Lance. There was no real security and Alex blended in easily with the students coming and going from the facility. Four massive forestry school greenhouses stood near the back entrance, surrounded by a cluster of smaller glass structures. Alex had worried she wouldn’t be able to identify where Tara had
tended her dangerous garden, but as she made a circuit around the grounds, she detected
the stink of the uncanny beneath the smells of manure and turned soil. Though the little greenhouse looked ordinary enough, Alex suspected it had the remnants of a glamour on it
—probably courtesy of Kate Masters and Manuscript. How else would Tara have
cultivated her crops without inviting suspicion?
But when Alex pulled open the door, she found nothing but empty planters and
overturned pots on the tables. Someone had cleaned the place out. Kate? Colin? Someone
else? Had Lance opened a portal from his jail cell and come here to destroy potential evidence?