Conjured

sonnets. It’s not what we need.”

Still without looking up, Eve said, “You could tell me what you need.”

She heard their surprise—a rustle of their clothes as they turned toward her or toward each other. She knew Malcolm’s startled expression without having to see it.

“See, even she agrees,” Lou said. “You are too damn cautious!”

“You push too far, too fast, you’ll break her,” Malcolm said.

Eve raised her head to look at Malcolm. Just Malcolm. She didn’t want to look at Lou. “I’m already broken,” she said. “And this girl is already dead.”

Malcolm’s mouth thinned. She knew that expression too. It crossed his face before he exploded—it was the moment before the backdraft. But he held in the firestorm. “You don’t know what’s best for you. I do. And you need a return to normalcy.”

“Agent Harrington—” Lou began.

Malcolm slapped the bulletin board, the one with the photo of the antlered girl on it, and raised his voice, the first time that Eve had ever heard him do so to Lou. “This is progress! I have … she has made progress! So let us continue! My way!”

Lou was silent for a moment. “Very well. For now.”

“Good,” Malcolm said in his usual calm, measured tone. His chest was heaving as if he’d sprinted a marathon. “We’re done here. For now.” He took the tablet from Eve. Hand on her elbow, he hauled Eve to her feet. Her knees felt solid, and she didn’t shake, to her surprise. To Aunt Nicki, Malcolm said, “Call Patti Langley. Let her know we’re incoming.” To Lou, he said, “Short-term results don’t justify jeopardizing the long-term goals.”

“I said ‘very well,’” Lou said, his voice still mild. “But if the situation changes, if he starts again … I will have no choice but to accelerate matters.”

“Understood,” Malcolm said.

He pulled Eve past the bulletin board. Dragging her feet on the carpet, she slowed to look at it. The board was vast, nearly the size of the office wall, and the photo of the antlered girl was tiny within the expanse of empty cork. Two dates were under her photo—today’s date and five years’ prior—plus a reference number and a case number.

The photo looked lonely on the huge bulletin board. She wondered … No, she thought. Don’t wonder. Don’t think. She let Malcolm lead her out of the office. Numbly, she walked through the halls. Other conversations—bits of phone calls, briefings, meetings—swirled around her in a meaningless melange of noise. She barely saw the people who brushed past her.

Ahead, two marshals escorted a boy into an interrogation room.

That looked like … “Zach?” She rushed forward as the door to the interrogation room shut. Malcolm’s hand clamped on her shoulder, stopping her. The door was closed, and the shades were drawn.

Spinning around, Eve faced Malcolm. “I saw Zach!” She thought of the phone call that Aunt Nicki had made to Lou. She’d assumed that had helped Zach, but what if it had made things worse?

“You didn’t,” he said firmly.

“But—”

“He isn’t here.” Putting his arm around her shoulder, Malcolm guided her firmly toward the elevator. Eve felt her rib cage loosen. She sucked in air. If Malcolm said he wasn’t here, it must have been her imagination. “Come with me. There’s nothing for you here.”

“It wasn’t him?” Eve asked.

“It wasn’t.” At the elevator, Malcolm pushed the down button. It opened immediately. Without looking back, Eve walked in with him. The tinny music crooned.

Eve clasped her hands behind her back and thought of Zach and of the brown-eyed girl with flowers woven around her antlers. She thought of them for the entire drive to the library, and tried to think of what to say to Zach when they were alone in the stacks again.

Malcolm let Eve off as usual in the parking lot, though it was hours after her shift had started. Wind blew in the branches of the trees, scattering drops of rain onto the pavement. The clouds had drifted apart, leaving patches of dull gray between them. Puddles filled all the crevasses in the asphalt. As she stepped out of the car, Malcolm handed her an umbrella.

“You did well today,” Malcolm said.

“Thank you.” Eve wasn’t sure if she meant for the umbrella, his words, or more.

She put the umbrella over her head and ran for the lobby door.

Chapter Twelve

Inside the lobby, Eve shook out the umbrella. Drops spattered on the carpet and the wall. Near her, a man seated on a bench lowered his book to frown at her umbrella and wet shoes. He wore a suit and had sunglasses tucked halfway into his coat pocket. She wondered if he was a marshal. As she wiped her feet on the mat, he raised his book, but she felt as if he were still watching her.

She expected to feel better once she was inside the library, but she didn’t. I’ll feel better once I find Zach, she thought. Talking to him, or listening to him talk, always made her feel better. She crossed to the circulation desk.

Two librarians were working the desk—an older woman with bobbed hair and a man with a tattoo on his neck. The woman clucked her tongue. “You’re late, Eve.”

The man was scanning returned books and adding them to a book cart. He didn’t look up. “Patti is pissed. Very, very pissed.”

Eve wished she knew their names. She was supposed to have known these people for weeks, but they seemed less real and less familiar than the antlered girl. “Have you seen Zach?”

“Not today,” the woman said. “But he’s probably in the stacks, where you should be.”

Eve eyed the door to Patti’s office. It was cracked open, and the light was on. She didn’t want to be delayed by a conversation with an irate librarian. With her umbrella dripping by her side, Eve hurried out of the lobby and into the main library.

The reference librarians scowled at her umbrella—or at her. She didn’t know their names either, though she thought they looked familiar.

Eve ducked into the stacks. She ignored the book carts full of books to be reshelved, and she steered around patrons. Systematically, she combed the aisles: reference, nonfiction, memoir, audiobooks, fiction, mystery, science fiction and fantasy … She checked the children’s room and the teen section. She looked in the presentation rooms, the reading room, the staff room, even the men’s room.

She didn’t find Zach.

He’s not here, she thought. Her heart thudded fast and hard in her chest. He should be here.

Maybe she’d missed his shift. Or maybe he’d stayed home sick. Or maybe that had been him in the interrogation room … Her hand reached for her phone and then stopped. If Zach had been there, then Malcolm had lied. And if he had lied … Standing in the middle of the stacks, Eve felt as if she were crumbling.

Stop, she told herself.

She didn’t know that Malcolm had lied to her. Zach could have left to run an errand or taken a break. Or she’d simply missed seeing him as she’d scurried through the library.

Patti would know, Eve thought. Patti Langley was obsessed with security. She’d know whether an employee was here or not. Clinging to that idea, Eve walked out of the stacks … and then jogged … and then ran.

Reaching the lobby, she stopped cold.

Aidan leaned against the circulation desk. He waved to Eve and aimed his dazzling smile at her, as if the sight of her filled his day with delight.