Desert Dark (24 page)

“Medicine's not everything, Dad,” Jack answered.

“What could be a more noble calling?”

Oh, I don't know. Hunting terrorists? Finding and disarming nuclear weapons?
Most of the time, Jack didn't mind keeping his studies surreptitious. It gave him a secret power over his father. But occasionally, when Dr. Felkin launched into his if-you're-not-a-doctor-you're-nothing speech, it took all of Jack's willpower to remain silent.

So stepping back onto campus, even with all his worry over Nadia, was a welcome relief.

Before he left for the weekend, Jack had attached the receiver for the wireless transmitter in Nadia's earring to a voice-activated tape recorder. He dropped his bags, grabbed the American lit book and raced to the language lab, excited to hear what he'd missed.

The recording opened with feedback. Then pieces of a conversation
between Nadia and her mom. He rewound the tape, straining to decipher their words. When Nadia complained about connection, he realized what had happened. His heart skipped a beat. The frequency waves of the wireless transmitter had interfered with the telephone. The bug caused the noise.

Had Nadia realized it too?
Does she know I wired the earrings? Does that have something to do with why Damon didn't see her this weekend?
He leaned onto the table, eyes wide, while he listened to the rest of the tape. She was talking to Sensei—he said something about “earrings.” Then the recording stopped.
Four days, and I have three minutes of incoherent conversation
.

Jack glanced at his watch—almost dinnertime. The second he saw Nadia he'd be able to tell if she found the mike. Her reaction would give her away. He packed up his equipment and left for the dining hall.

Libby, Alan and Nadia were already seated, eating their chicken parmesan.

“Did you miss me?” Jack asked, approaching Nadia from behind.

She jumped as he touched her shoulder. “You scared me. When did you get back?”

Jack couldn't get a read. If Nadia had found the bug, she was definitely playing it cool. She wasn't wearing his earrings. He couldn't ask about them; he'd brought it up too many times already. “Not long ago. How was your break? Spend a lot of time with Damon?”

“Not much. I was mostly at the dojo and Damon went camping. It's nice to see you.”

She's lying to me. I wish Damon were here so I could confront her
. “Yeah, good to see you too. I'm gonna go unpack, but I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we'll go for a run tomorrow night.” Jack playfully kissed the top of Nadia's head.

That was useless
.
What was she doing over break? There's no way she stayed on campus and Damon never saw her. It doesn't make any sense
. Jack absentmindedly chewed his lower lip as he walked
down the path.
Maybe they're both lying. Maybe they hooked up and forgot to get their stories straight
. He swallowed, not liking the thought of Nadia with Damon. He passed a group of girls entering their dorm.

I'm sick of her games. Why should she call the shots? I need hard evidence, so I can end this once and for all
.

The next morning Jack woke at 0500. He went for a run, showered and ate breakfast. By 0800 he'd chewed the whites off his fingernails. At 0915, confident all other students were in class, he snuck into the girls' dorm.

He hurried past Casey's empty desk. She wasn't needed during the day. It was after classes, in the afternoons and evenings, that the school required a chaperone.

Jack moved silently down the carpeted hallway to Nadia's room. He tried the doorknob—locked. He slipped a small tool out of his pocket and proceeded to pick the lock. It took longer than he expected. Beads of sweat collected on his forehead. A deep breath only slightly calmed his nerves. After two minutes of intense concentration, the door clicked open. With one last glance toward the lobby, he crept inside.

He started with the medicine chests in the bathroom: deodorant, hair gel, sunscreen. The room smelled like coconuts and vanilla. It reminded him of summer. Like Nadia.
Focus
.

Back in the bedroom, he spotted a wooden jewelry box on one of the dressers. Black velvet lined the compartment, and the earrings he'd given Nadia sat in the center. Her other earrings were pushed into a pile toward the back, with a silver bracelet, a shell choker, a ring made of blue glass. He replaced the lid. Above her desk, he inspected the bookshelves.

He walked to Libby's side and looked through the containers arranged on her dresser. Hair ties, makeup, jewelry. He was closing the last box when he noticed a bit of paper jutting out from underneath. A worn note read
MISS YOU, SUNSHINE! LOVE, MOMMA
.

He crossed back over to Nadia's side and picked up her jewelry
box. Taped to the bottom he found an unsealed envelope. He opened the flap and removed a ticket stub from Air Canada Airlines, issued to Nadia Riley, from Phoenix Sky Harbor to Vancouver, Canada. The date of departure was Thanksgiving, returning on Saturday night.
Finally, some actual evidence
. He pulled the ticket from the envelope and stuck it in his pocket.

Why would she keep a ticket stub? She screwed up and forgot to throw it out—that's why she hid it
. He shook his head.
Rookie mistake
.

Jack stood quietly in the middle of the room, considering his next move.

What was she doing in Canada? Meeting another agent? Sensei must have gone with her—his voice was on the recording
. It occurred to him Canada would be freezing this time of year.

Nadia's closet door was ajar; he searched the rack for her jacket. It took him a minute—it was all the way in the back. The coat wasn't heavy: red fleece, with a reflective stripe along the hood. His search of the pockets revealed a note printed in cipher text, scribbled on a crisply folded piece of yellow notebook paper. Jack wiped his palm on his khakis, and then jotted the code on his hand using a felt-tip pen from Nadia's desk. He stuck the paper back in her coat.
Did she write it or receive it?

He checked the clock on her nightstand.
I need to get moving
. He let himself out and locked the door.

Jack glanced at his sweaty palm as he hurried down the hall. He kept his hand open and flat, cautiously preserving the message.
I'll go to the library, crack the code and then report to Dean Wolfe
. He nodded as he imagined the Dean's response. Jack forced himself to focus on the positive. Nadia might've outplayed him on the operative field, but she would not win an emotional battle.

He rushed across the lawn and through the revolving doors of the library. His eyes surveyed the room as he approached the reference desk. This time of day, the building was deserted. The librarian sat typing at her station. The clicking of the plastic keys interrupted the dull drone of the heating unit.

She smiled as he approached. “Jack, why aren't you in class?” Her fingers continued tapping across the keyboard.

“Good morning, Dr. Wilson. You look very nice today.” He leaned against her desk. “I'm working on a special project. I need to use the cipher computer.”

Her smile widened. “Your flattery is transparent, but I'll help you anyway.”

The cipher computer, locked in a small room behind the language lab, wasn't available for general use—otherwise, students would never learn to crack a code. But Jack was in a hurry and didn't have time for games. He followed Dr. Wilson down a narrow corridor of closed doors. She jiggled the key in the lock and opened the room. “Close it up when you're done.”

Jack waited for her to leave before entering the numeric code. The screen flickered as one letter popped up after another. T-A-W-S-I-T-U-O-C . . . He waited. S-Y-O-B-G-N . . . Finally, the last three letters in the sequence appeared. Jack grabbed a piece of scrap paper from the stack beside the monitor and jotted down the results.

TAWSIT UOCSY OBGNIHC.

He stared at the letters. Sit
is the only word I see. Maybe it's every other letter
.

TWI UCY BNH,
no, no
. AST OS OGIC . . . 
nothing. Maybe it's backwards
.

CHINGBO YSCOU TISWAT.
SWAT
jumped out immediately.
A SWAT team?
Then
BOY
.
Boys, cout, swat . . . Ah
, boy scout.
Boy scout is. Ching boy scout is wat
. Suddenly he saw it—the sentence wasn't in order. It wrapped around.

Boy scout is watching
.

Jack's heart raced. He struggled to catch his breath.

Someone warned her. She knows I'm watching
.

A new surge of panic gripped him as he realized what he'd done.

And I just stole a ticket stub from her room
.

Monday morning was brutal. After the four-day weekend, each professor tried to cram three days' worth of material into one hour. Nadia furiously scribbled her class notes. After first period her hand already felt as though it would snap.

She and Libby stopped by their room before lunch. Libby talked nonstop about her holiday and how wonderful it had been to see her family. Her mother made the
best
meal and she and her brother played touch football with all the neighborhood kids and blah, blah, blah, perfect American Thanksgiving.

“Gimme one second,” Libby said as she stepped into the bathroom, prattling on through the closed door. Nadia rolled her eyes, thoroughly annoyed with her roommate's sunny disposition.
Knock it off
.
It's not her fault your family can't afford two plane tickets
.

Nadia glanced toward the photographs hanging by the door, but her eyes stopped on Libby's dresser. The boxes were askew; the backside of each wasn't perfectly lined up with the wall.

“What happened?” Nadia asked, as Libby came out of the bathroom.

“Well, if you must know, I peed.”

Nadia laughed. “Not that,
that
!” She pointed to the dresser.

“Did you borrow something?” Libby asked.

“No way. I know better than to mess with your system.”

“Are you sure? Because I don't mind if you did.”

“I promise it wasn't me.”

Libby turned toward Nadia, her face pale. “Someone's been in our room.”

“Why would someone come into our room?”

“I don't know, but I guarantee I didn't leave it like this, and you didn't touch it, right?” Nadia shook her head. “Check your things.” Libby rushed to her desk and pulled open the top drawer. Just as quickly, she pushed it shut. She examined the boxes lining the dresser, then her dresser drawers.

Nadia opened her jewelry box. She didn't have anything worth stealing, except maybe the earrings from Jack. “Thank goodness.” She slipped them on. “I would've been devastated if these had been stolen.”

“Nothing seems to be missing,” Libby said. “What do you think happened?”

Nadia thought for a moment about the surveillance equipment she'd seen over the weekend.
But why would anyone want to listen to our conversations?

She'd promised Sensei she wouldn't discuss their lesson, and in any case, she didn't want Libby to panic. “I don't know. I'm sure it's nothing,” she said finally. “Let's go to lunch.”

They found the guys at their usual table. “Someone was in our room,” Libby said breathlessly, the instant she sat down.

“For real?” asked Damon.

“You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Alan?” Nadia asked, spreading her napkin in her lap.

“Why would I?”

“It wouldn't be the first time you were in our room.”

“That's my boy!” Damon laughed. “You were in their room? How did you pull it off and
what
were you doing?”

Alan glared at Nadia. Obviously he hadn't told Damon about his awkward confession.

Knowing Alan's inability to lie, Nadia did it for him. “Dropping off Libby's wrap after the dance.”

“Hold up. You risked getting expelled over a sweater? What were you thinking?” Damon shook his head. “We need to talk, 'cause I tell you what: if I show up at Nadia's door in the middle of the night, it's not gonna be about a sweater.”

Damon took a bite and Alan scowled.

Nadia winced and mouthed, “Sorry.”

“So how do you know someone was in your room?” Damon asked.

“My dresser was out of order,” Libby answered. “As you can imagine, I'm fairly particular about my things. And I don't mind telling you, I feel violated.”

“What's the big deal?” Alan asked. “It was probably some girl on your hall.”

“Doing what?” Libby asked.

Alan shrugged. “How should I know?”

Nadia took a few quick bites of her salad, then pushed away from the table. “I need to stop by the dojo. I'll see you guys in class.”

Nadia found Sensei in the meditation room. She waited in silence until he'd finished.

“You are not in uniform,” Sensei said, before turning to face her.

“Can I talk to you about something?” she asked, her face suddenly hot.

“Of course.”

Nadia hesitated. “I think someone was in our room this morning, uninvited.” She felt foolish saying it out loud.

“Why would you think that?”

“Um,” she hesitated. “Libby's dresser—”

He nodded. “Enough said.” He studied her face for a moment, his dark eyes unwavering. “What do you need from me?”

“Well, it doesn't look like anything was taken, so I'm thinking maybe something was left behind,” she said tentatively.

“Ah. You wish to sweep your room,” he replied, not quite a question, not quite a fact.

“I was wondering if you'd lend me a piece of equipment for counter-surveillance. I could bring it right back,” Nadia continued, gaining confidence. He hadn't laughed at her—that was a good sign.