The sound that came from his throat wasn’t exactly a groan, but it was close. He fell back on his conjured bed, covering his eyes. His skin wasn’t back to a healthy shade, even now, and his hands trembled.
“Please, no more questions tonight. I’m way past my tolerance level.”
“You’re still unwell,” she said, anxious for him and upset at herself. She should have noticed sooner.
“Exhausted. Better tomorrow.”
“Could you use help getting ready for bed?”
He smiled. Faint, ironic, but there. “Are you offering to undress me?”
She hadn’t meant it that way, but now undressing him was once again all she could think about. So much for changing the subject.
He had the good taste not to tease further. “The bathroom’s all yours,” he said, gesturing behind him. “I should be able to manage on my own once you’re done.”
As she brushed her teeth, she ticked off all the reasons to wait. Topping the list: Getting to know him better first—the day’s revelations were a start, but only a start. Surely she could last a month if she focused.
Nothing focused the mind like a need to save the world, or at least part of it.
13
Practice, Practice
The next morning, they’d just finished breakfasting on food from Hartgrave’s mini-fridge (unplugged, powered by magic) when Willi showed up, a bleary-eyed Bernie in his wake. It was the first time she’d ever seen the latter on campus before nine o’clock.
Willi shucked off his coat and pushed up his sleeves. “Ready?”
Hartgrave shook his head. “First, we’ve got to do something about Dr. Daggett’s car. If we don’t handle this properly, we’ll lead them right to us.”
That gave her a start—not because she thought he was right, but because she’d forgotten all about her poor wreck of a vehicle.
“Why should they think it has anything to do with us? You’re a convincer. They’ll assume you popped intoClear Lake for some reason,” she said. “Which you did, actually.”
Bernie, finishing a tremendous yawn, nodded his agreement. “A broken-down car on the side of the road in a snowstorm—that’s hardly suspicious.”
“They’re not going to overlook the possibility of a connection,” Hartgrave said. “They have no other clues to go on. Here, take a look at this.”
He held up his cell phone so they could see what was on the screen. A map of Clear Lake. Dead center: two red dots.
“Crawford and Shaw—the ones from last night,” he added, no doubt for her benefit. “They’ve been back for the last two hours.”
She must have slept right through the SOS. She stared, aghast.
“It’ll be fine,” Bernie said. “Really. We’ll call the nearest mechanic at eight sharp, have them tow it in and then we’ll just let it sit in the shop until after ourfaitisaccompli. No appearance by any of us. No connection. Give them a story about how you were on the way to the airport and won’t be back for a month, at which point you’ll bring the key so they can repair it. We can wire the payment using an assumed name.”
That eased her mind. But Hartgrave, pacing about, did not look appeased. “What if they’ve already looked inside the car?”
She patted him on the arm as he passed by. “Don’t worry ...”
“Don’t worry! Look, you don’t want them to know who you are. You were so bundled up yesterday, I doubtthey could identify you by sight, but if they work out yourname—”
“They won’t,” she said. “They can’t get it by calling in my license plate number and asking, because it’s against state law to give out any particulars. And there’s nothing in the car but unwrapped Christmas presents. I keep my registration and insurance card in my wallet.”
He considered this for a moment. “Well. All right, then.”
Bernie grinned at her. “His idea of high praise.”
After they’d settled things with a mechanic, she insisted on more details of the plan she’d agreed to help see through. “Tell me about the time problem.”
