Warming Trend (14 page)

Dean Malmoat started to say something, but Monica cut him off with, “Where are the notes, Ani?”

Sticking to the literal truth, she said, “I don’t have them. I didn’t take them from Professor Kenbrink, either.”

Dean Malmoat said, “The fact that they weren’t in your pack I’m afraid doesn’t clear you of anything. At this point they could be anywhere.”

Ani tried to look calm even as her mind grappled with the scenario. So Monica hadn’t told him about the notebook in her office yet? Had they walked into her office and she’d seen it was gone and realized that Ani had decided to do the one thing that would get them out of this mess? Her proximity to the boiler room had to be obvious to Monica.

“Ani.” Monica’s patience was exaggerated. “Just tell us where they are, and it doesn’t have to be this way.”

Ani tried so hard to say with her eyes that everything was going to be okay now. The bright blue cover would be spotted within twenty-four hours. Slowly, she said, “I didn’t take them from Professor Kenbrink, and maybe it’s time to search the route we took from camp two. Anybody could have stashed them along the way.”

Dean Malmoat said firmly, “Oh, we’re going to search all right. If we have to we’ll search your friend’s house too.”

There was an extra edge to the way he said
friend
that made Ani realize Monica was right about him. He wouldn’t stick up for either of them. Over his shoulder, Ani made fleeting eye contact with Tan Salek, who was watching all of them carefully. Her expression was not as hostile as the Dean’s, nor as accusatory as Monica’s. Ani had to look away, though, because the disappointment in Tan’s eyes was obvious. With a sinking feeling, she realized she did care about some people having a good opinion of her. Then it hit her between the eyes that she hadn’t even given a thought to what Eve would think. Surely Eve would realize she’d done the best she could.

Well, when the notebook was found, there’d be no way to tie it to Monica, and if people wanted to believe that Ani had ditched it in the culvert somehow, at least Monica knew why. Tan had always been so supportive—she’d give her the benefit of the doubt.

“What did you do it for, Ani?” Monica looked tentative, like she was on the verge of telling the dean the rest of the story.

Please, Ani pleaded silently, just let it be. We can weather this.

“I didn’t,” she insisted. Then she realized that by appearing to accuse her, Monica was scuttling the whole Lesbian Lovers theory. Okay. She’d stick to true statements. “I never saw anyone in our team handle his notebook while we were out, either.”

Even as she had said the words, she had heard her father predicting nothing good would come of lying by telling the truth. He’d hated academia, though, because of the competitive shallowness that undercut the research. That kind of behavior had never been in her nature, but these circumstances had been extraordinary. Someone had tried to frame Monica.

She stretched in the narrow airplane seat and gave Lisa a wan smile. “So you can see how well it all worked out for me.”

“I don’t get how he didn’t have his stuff on a Blackberry or something.”

“I wish he had. But he was the last of the pencil and paper guys. He didn’t trust anything that needed power out on the ice.”

“Did she get the big grant and all the money?”

Ani nodded. “University of Fairbanks GlacierPort Facility won the multimillion dollar grant to assess the possible amount of methane gas to be released at the current rate of melt. Raw data has been released, with preliminary findings.”

Looking sleepy, Lisa stretched out her legs. “So they found the notebook and people still thought you ditched it?”

Ani nodded. “Well, this is the part where my own stupidity comes into play. The drainage ditch where I’d thrown it was always dry in summer, but I couldn’t tell from that angle that the outlet had clogged. There was water in it. The notebook was water-resistant, but not waterproof. By the time someone saw it, the pages had semi-dissolved. There was no saving any of it. I wasn’t just a data thief, I was a data killer. I might have just as well thrown it into the boiler.”

It was Ani’s turn to look out the window. She had never considered that the data would be destroyed, that Kenbrink’s last project would go unfinished, that his brilliance as a scholar had been diminished. When she’d seen the notebook, bloated and worthless, she’d burst into tears. She’d acted guilty—and she was.

“Monica was right. I should have left it on her desk, but I thought I could fix it. I thought I was so smart.”

Lisa put her hand on Ani’s forearm. A quick glance revealed Lisa’s eyes fluttering shut. Ani turned her gaze to the clouds outside the window. They were white and even, like someone had poured whipped cream from here to the horizon. From far above, the ice fields looked almost as soft and magical. But up close they were sharp and brittle, an icy moonscape. Like friends who wouldn’t look you in the eye. Like Eve… Eve asking in horror, “How could you?”

Going home was a mistake. She was probably the only one, after all this time, who still felt the cold of the ice and none of its fire. But maybe she could let go by making sure that Eve had moved on. Say she was sorry, without excuses, own her mistakes, get her stuff and go. Tell Tan not to send her any more boxes and find a life she could embrace with as much love as she had had for her old one.

As grateful as Eve was to have Monica Tyndell’s financial support, along with Monica’s adherence to the meaning of
silent
in
silent partner
, being beholden to her had its drawbacks. The Dragonfly was only closed on Tuesdays and she was spending most of her one day off making and delivering an array of desserts for a fundraiser that Monica was chairing.

“It’s for charity,” Monica had said, which was a double whammy. Eve couldn’t say no, regardless of her other commitments, and she had to do it for cost, or nearly. Not that she had anything against breast cancer research, of course not, it was just that she already supported the cause other ways, and she could have used the day off for laundry and paying bills. Plus, it seemed like two weeks out of four she was doing something on the side. Honestly, she thought, there were reasons she didn’t have a personal life.

She had been to GlacierPort many times since Ani had left, for catering functions and meeting with Monica about the restaurant. She made herself think about anything but dancing on the glacier, but it was hard not to when the event was on the patio adjacent to the glacier access. In summer, the research facility looked like a sprawling ski lodge with a bodacious view. The event was set up on the patio there, taking advantage of a glorious summer evening and the truly majestic landscape of the half-mile wide Naomi and its dramatic moraine strip as a backdrop. With evening shadows rising, she could count at least ten shades of white and cursed her monolingual limitations. Natives had dozens of names for all the shades and types of ice and she was stuck with
white
and
cold
.

It took two trips with heavy trays to get most of the desserts moved. She went back for a last sheet of lemon bars and let Tonk out of the van to have a run. Tonk had been back less than she had, and she wondered if he remembered that night—she caught herself. She was thinking about it again.

That’s how it works, she told herself. Think about it, live it, let it go. If that was the case, then, she ought to live all of it, not just the good parts. She had to remember that last night, when Ani had come and gone without another word.

“Eve, these look fabulous! You’re a miracle worker.” Monica and her usual following of grad students emerged from the building with stacks of chairs. “And you’re early.”

“I’m happy to do it.” One of the people setting out chairs was wearing slacks and a simple twin set—not a student at all. Eve said, “Hi, Tan.”

Tan Salek had always been unfailingly polite to Eve—to everyone, for that matter. As the head of GlacierPort’s administrative services, she was reputed to rule faculty and students with a precise carrot-and-stick system, softened by a sympathetic ear. Ani had always spoken highly of Tan. “How’s the restaurant business?”

Eve answered lightly, trying to decide what it was in Tan’s tone that had always seemed a little
too
polite ever since Ani had left. It was almost as if Tan blamed her for something, but what on earth could it be? Ani had admitted what she’d done, at least privately. Monica had confessed to failing to use the best judgment in the situation. Eve had just been the girlfriend who hadn’t suspected a thing. Had thought Ani loved her. “My biggest worry is making it through the first winter. But I’m really hopeful.”

“It’s a tough time to be doing anything risky, so I applaud you for it. I’m holding on to my university benefits and retirement plan with both hands.” Tan tweaked a tablecloth into place. “I’m outta here when I’m sixty. Twenty more years and I’m set.”

Twenty years, Eve mused, as she unloaded the boxes of tarts and cookies onto the platters that a student had brought from the cafeteria. She had not really thought that far ahead. Her mind always seemed so filled with work that there wasn’t room for anything else. “What will you do with retirement?”

“Travel, I think. Everyone says Canada is beautiful. All I have to do is be healthy as a horse—and I’m working on that every day.”

“I’d like to travel too. I’ve always told myself I would, but the years go by and I’m always investing more into my business. I’m basically a homebody, I guess.” I just never thought I’d be an alone homebody. With a rueful inward smile, she acknowledged that Ani had ruined her standards. She couldn’t settle for just anybody. She wanted somebody who made her feel the way Ani had.

Her tone markedly neutral, Tan said, “I have a friend in Key West who has offered to put me up if I wanted a nice beach vacation. I might take her up on it someday. For a change. Though I can’t imagine liking it much—it’s hot and I hear they have really big bugs. Let me get another cloth to put over the top of everything until it’s time to serve.”

She watched Tan’s small, sturdy figure disappear into the building. As far as she knew, Tan wasn’t married and didn’t date, but then she wasn’t hooked into university gossip. Well, they’d never be friends, Eve allowed, and there was no reason to fret about it. She just couldn’t stop hearing Tan’s voice on the phone later that day, the day after Ani had returned from that awful expedition.

Eve had been unnerved by that unexpected visit from campus security that morning to collect Ani’s pack and jacket, and that was on top of the surreal quality life had taken on since word had spread about the accident. Ani’s dorm room phone just rang and rang, and Professor Tyndell’s phone clicked immediately to voice mail. She finally tried Tan’s number.

Tan sounded more officious, and certainly more tense, than usual. “Really, Eve, I’m not at liberty to discuss it. Did you try her dorm room?”

“She didn’t answer. I expected her back here is all. Thank you. I’m a little bit scared—security was here and Ani was so exhausted we hardly talked before she left again this morning.”

Tan’s tone was ominous. “I wish I could be of help, but my hands are tied.”

Eve hung up, very confused and more than a little scared for Ani. She’d pulled into her driveway after her catering gig, fully expecting Ani to be there. The sun was still well above the horizon. There was no sign of Ani’s truck, and Ani hadn’t left a message. Eve had wanted to add Ani to her cell phone plan, but Ani couldn’t afford it and wouldn’t let Eve foot the bill. Now Eve wished she’d insisted.

She cleaned up the kitchen, showered, tried to focus on her shopping list for her next couple of jobs. She was staring at the phone when it rang.

“Eve? It’s Monica Tyndell. I apologize for being so slow to call you, but I don’t know what to say, except that I’m so very sorry.”

Her throat was suddenly so tight Eve was surprised she could speak. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t—Ani hasn’t called?”

“No. Nobody’s called. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh. Eve…I should let her tell you.”

“Where is she?”

“By now she’s in her room. I’m afraid…for right now she’s been asked not to leave.”

“You’re kidding! What on earth—”

“She should tell you herself, Eve. I’m sorry, I assumed she had called. Maybe she wants to tell you her side in person. I blame myself. I haven’t handled anything very well, least of all how I relate to Ani. She misunderstood and it’s all a mess.”

Her life had become the kind of nightmare where she was turning in circles, looking for something to anchor her to reality. “Please tell her to call me.”

“I will, Eve. When I see her. I don’t know when that will be, though.”

Eve hung up, deeply alarmed. Her worry all day had seemed overwrought, but now she wished she’d already given in to the urge to drive to GlacierPort and find out what was happening. If Ani couldn’t or wouldn’t come to her, she would go there.

She wasn’t numb, not exactly, as she crossed the main concourse to the residence wing and took the elevator to Ani’s floor. Time didn’t seem to be passing at a steady pace. It took forever for the elevator’s indicator light to click from one to two, then abruptly it was on four. Why hadn’t Ani called? What could be so bad that she didn’t at least need the comfort of talking about it? And what had Monica meant about Ani misunderstanding something?

Ani’s door was just a few down the corridor. Someone had taped a paper to it. In big bold printout it read
Get out bitch
!

Eve tore it down. She wanted to protect Ani, but how could she when she didn’t know what was going on?

There was no answer to her knock, so she called out, “It’s me.”

Eve’s whole world became Ani’s grief-stricken face, blotchy skin and swollen eyes. She kicked the door closed and pulled Ani into her arms. “Oh, baby, why didn’t you call me?”

“They…they…” After a minute Ani managed to control her voice. “When they searched my room they took the phone.”

Monica must not know that, Eve thought. Letting go of Ani, she said, “They can’t imprison you here, cut you off from help and support. That’s not right.”