The grounds were even more lavish than I had been able to discern from my bedroom window, and the air was so fresh and crisp it made me feel newly alive. We strolled along the paths, through the full color wheel of flowers: the arching birds-of-paradise, the fluttering lantana, the wisteria-heavy trellises. It was like a bejeweled wonderland, a monumental garden fit for royalty.
After leading me down a flight of stone steps, Lexi walked me along a gravel path that led to the lake, that little island sitting at the center of it like a lonely beauty. The water was a brilliant blue with an opaqueness to it that struck me as odd. A short pier jutted out over the water and toward the island on jagged-looking wood pilings, a section of which had been worn away as if something had been repeatedly tied to it, but there was no boat in sight.
“You’re welcome to come down here as much as you like—we find it’s a good spot for meditation—but I’m afraid…”
“Right, no swimming. Dorian told me. Too cold.”
“Actually, it’s environmental,” she said with a tilt of her head. “There are several species of endangered fish, and of course you can see by the color that the ecosystem is quite delicate. So we ask that you don’t put so much as a toe in. And the island is off-limits.”
“That’s why you removed the boat?”
She nodded gravely. “We had an incident.” She clapped her hands, her mood shifting abruptly. “Now let me show you the apothecary garden.”
As I followed Lexi down a side path that led to the same brick walkway I’d traversed the previous night, anxiety rose in my belly. I hadn’t wanted to mention my night excursion to anyone. I’d never experienced sleep paralysis or sleepwalking before, and it wasn’t like it was going to happen again, so I didn’t want to call attention to it, but now that we were here, I suddenly felt like an interloper. I didn’t know much about how sleepwalking worked, but I’d read that people could do all kinds of things during an episode, even drive a car. Some part of me must have been conscious enough to leave the house and find Casimir’s cabana, but why?
Was I so desperate to find the relic that my subconscious had begun acting as a free agent? I’d read some about somnambulism and knew that people were actually capable of committing crimes while asleep. There had even been cases of sleepwalkers being acquitted of crimes because they were afflicted with what was called non-insane automatism due to somnambulism. But the question remained: Even if a person’s conscious mind had no desire to commit that crime, was it possible that they werespurred into action by a subconscious drive so strong that although it could be repressed during waking hours, it couldn’t be contained during sleep? Not that I had committed any kind of crime, I told myself as I stood there, beads of guilty sweat nonetheless beginning to form on my brow.
In the light of day, the cabanas lined up alongside the path had a bright Caribbean feel to them, the blue of their wooden shutters bringing to mind pineapples and tropical breezes. As we passed one, I could hear laughter trickling out from between the blue shutters, and for a moment I thought I recognized one of the voices.
“Some of the faculty housing is down here. Hildegard College is unique in that…”
Lexi stopped suddenly and stared at the front door of what I now realized was Dr. Casimir’s cottage.
“That’s strange.”
She strode up the flagstone path to what I now saw was an open door. Panic surged through my body. Had I misremembered the night before? Had the door actually been unlocked when I tried it? Cautiously Lexi opened it and stepped inside.
“I’m just going to check that nothing is amiss,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m sure it’s fine, but I really should check. You’re welcome to come inside.”
I did so with some trepidation. Luckily, I hadn’t scrawledRobin wuz hereon the wall or anything. The cabana was lovely, decorated in rosewood and teak with island prints. A plush bed took up the majority of the space, but there was also an alcove with an elegant sitting area and a mid-century writing desk. In the back was a bathroom and a kitchenette. The walls were dotted with tasteful artwork, and French doors led out into a small back garden.
Quickly I scanned the room. I didn’t really think Casimir would keep an ancient artifact in her own living quarters, but I knew so little about the woman that I didn’t want to rule anything out. I still didn’t understand what a neuroscientist would be doing on an archaeological dig, or for that matter, why she would have been allowed to take the piece back to her own institution. There had to be something more to the story, but it was hard to make any assumptions without knowing anything about the woman.
Something about one of the paintings caught my eye, and I moved to take a closer look. It was a nature scene that showed a pair of cardinals perched on the edge of a fountain. As I stared at their crimson plumage, I was reminded of the dream I’d had on the way to Hildegard, of that odd compulsion to find my bluebird. I had no idea what it could mean, but it suddenly felt terribly urgent.
“Everything okay?” Lexi asked.
“Yes,” I said, startled. “It’s a lovely painting.”
“It was one of Dr. Casimir’s favorites.”
“Dorian told me about her,” I said, trying to seem casual. “She sounds like a fascinating woman.”
“Oh, she was—our most promising researcher,” she said, and again I sensed she was on the precipice of some intense emotion that she was trying very hard to suppress. “I’m sorry she’ll not be continuing on. And even more sorry that she felt a need to leave without giving notice or the decency to let us know what she was thinking.”
I craned my neck to get a better view of the garden patio. “I peeked in her office this morning and I noticed there isn’t much in there. I was wondering where her things are.”
“Why?” Lexi asked, blinking slowly.
“I was just thinking she might have left something behind in there, something that might give you a clue where she went.”
“Hmm, that’s a thought,” she said somewhat absently, but if I was hoping for an invitation to go search it, it seemed none was forthcoming.
We started to leave, but when Lexi reached the door, she stopped and looked at me, raising her eyebrows as if surprised by her own idea. “You know, you’re welcome to take over this bungalow if you like. There’s no reason you should be trapped up at the house when this is standing empty. Would that interest you?”
I tried to seem nonchalant, but I was already imagining prying up floorboards and digging in the garden for the artifact.
“That might be nice,” I said. “If it’s no trouble for you, that is.”
