container. Alex touched her finger to it. The little vine unfurled, a lone white bud appearing from its leaves. Its petals parted in a burst of glittering seeds like a firework, with a soft but audible puh, and it withered to nothing.
Outside, Alex found a lean woman in jeans and a barn jacket digging through a bucket of some kind of mulch with gloved hands.
“Hey,” she said, “can you tell me who uses that greenhouse?”
“Sveta Myers. She’s a grad student.”
Alex didn’t remember her name from Tara’s case file.
“You know where I can find her?”
The woman shook her head. “She left a couple days ago. Took the rest of the semester off.”
Sveta Myers had gotten spooked. Maybe she’d done the work of destroying the greenhouse herself. “You ever see her with a couple? Skinny little blond girl and a big guy, looked like he lived at the gym?”
“I saw the girl here a lot. She was Sveta’s cousin or niece or something?” Alex highly doubted that. “I might have seen the guy once or twice. Why?”
“Thanks for your help,” said Alex, and headed for the gates.
She tried to shake off her feeling of disappointment as she made her way back down the hill. She’d hoped to find more of Tara in the gardens, not just piles of dirt heaped like a fresh grave.
Turner had said he’d meet Alex outside Ingalls Rink, and she spotted his Dodge idling by the curb. It was blessedly warm inside.
“Anything?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Someone cleaned the whole place out, and the student they were working with skipped town too. Someone named Sveta Myers.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, but I’ll see if I can track her down.”
“I’ll check the alumni rosters to see if she’s connected to any of the societies,” said Alex. “I want to talk to Lance Gressang.”
“You’re back on that?”
Alex had almost forgotten she’d feigned interest in talking to Gressang before. “Someone has to question him about the new information we have.”
“If the case goes to trial—”
“It will be too late. Someone sent a monster after me. They killed Tara, stole all her plants. Maybe they got to Sveta Myers too. They’re cleaning house.”
“Even if I could get an interview with Gressang, I’m not bringing you with me.”
“Why not? We need Gressang to believe we understand more about all of this than he does. It will take him about thirty seconds to realize you don’t know your ass from a hot rock.”
“What a colorful turn of phrase.”
“I saw you in that apartment, Turner. You almost wet yourself when Lance disappeared through that wall.”
“You have a real way about you, y’know that, Stern?”
“Is it my charm or my looks that you can’t get enough of ?”
Turner twisted in his seat to give her a long stare. “You don’t always have to come out swinging. What are you so angry at?”
Alex felt an irritating jolt of embarrassment. “Everything,” she muttered, gazing at the fogged-up windshield. “Anyway, you know I’m right.”
“Maybe so, but Lance is represented by counsel. Neither of us can talk to him without his lawyer.”
“Would you like to?”
“Of course I’d like to. I’d also like a rare steak and a moment of peace without you yapping in my ear.”
“Can’t oblige. But I think I can get you an interview with Gressang.”
“Let’s say that’s true. Nothing we learn will be admissible in a court of law, Stern. Lance Gressang could tell us he killed Tara twelve times over and we wouldn’t be able to pin it on him.”
“But we’ll still get answers.”
Turner rested his gloved hands on the steering wheel. “I’m pretty sure when my mother was talking about the devil, she had you in mind.”
“I’m a delight.”
“If I said yes, what would we need?”
Turner already had a nice enough suit. “You own a briefcase?”
“I can borrow one.”
“Great. Then all we need is this.” She pulled the mirror she’d used to gain access to Tara’s apartment from her pocket.
“You want me to walk into a secure jail with a compact and a nice attaché case?”
“It’s worse than that, Turner.” Alex flipped the mirror in her hand. “I want you to believe in magic.”
24
Winter
The plan was trickier than Alex had anticipated. The mirror would fool the guards they encountered but not the cameras in the jail.
Dawes came to the rescue with an actual tempest in a teapot. Alex hadn’t thought Darlington was being literal when they’d walked through the bizarre basement of Rosenfeld Hall, but apparently back in their heyday, St. Elmo’s had managed all