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Kim didn’t mind. In fact she preferred it. The last thing she needed at the moment was a long lecture on some arcane experiment.

She found Edward at his printer. His computer was busy spilling out data. He smiled at her, but the smile was fleeting. In the next second his mind was back on what was coming out of the printer.

“I’m going into Boston for the day,” Kim said brightly.

“Good,” Edward said.

“I’ll be spending the night,” Kim said. “I could leave a number if you’d like.”

“It won’t be necessary,” Edward said. “If there’s any problem, call me. I’ll be here as usual.”

Kim said goodbye and started for the door. Edward called to her. She stopped.

“I’m really sorry I’m so preoccupied,” Edward said. “I wish we weren’t so busy. We’ve got an emergency of sorts.”

“I understand,” Kim said. She looked at Edward’s face. There was a hint of awkwardness she’d not seen for some time.

Kim hurried from the lab and got in her car. She drove out of the compound with Edward’s demeanor on her mind. It was as if the old persona of Edward were reemerging: the persona she’d been attracted to when they’d first met.

It didn’t take long for Kim to begin to relax, and the farther south she drove, the better she felt. The weather helped. It was a hot, Indian summer day with bright sunshine and fall clarity. Here and there were trees tinted with a hint of their dazzling fall foliage. The sky was so blue, it looked like one vast celestial ocean.

Sunday was not a difficult day for parking, and Kim found a spot within easy walking distance of Kinnard’s apartment on Revere Street. She was nervous when she rang his bell, but he immediately made her feel comfortable. He helped carry her things into his guest room, which he’d obviously taken the time to clean.

Kinnard took Kim on an invigorating walk around the city, and for a number of blissful hours she forgot about Omni, Ultra, and Elizabeth. They started in the North End with lunch at an Italian restaurant followed by espressos in an Italian cafe.

For an entertaining interlude they ducked into Filene’s Basement for a quick scouting of the merchandise. Both were experienced Filene’s Basement shoppers. Kim surprised herself by finding a great skirt originally from Saks Fifth Avenue.

After their shopping they strolled around the Boston Gardens and enjoyed the fall foliage and flowers. They sat for a while on one of the park benches and watched the swan boats glide around the lake.

“I probably shouldn’t say this,” Kinnard said, “but you do look a bit tired to me.”

“I’m not surprised,” Kim said. “I haven’t been sleeping well. Living in Salem hasn’t been particularly idyllic.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” Kinnard said.

“Not at the moment,” Kim said. “I suppose I’m confused about a lot of things.”

“I’m glad you came for a visit,” Kinnard said.

“I want to make sure you understand that I’m definitely staying in the guest room,” Kim said quickly.

“Hey, relax,” Kinnard said, lifting up his hands as if to defend himself. “I understand. We’re friends, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” Kim said. “I must seem hyper to you. The fact of the matter is that I’m the most relaxed I’ve been in weeks.” She reached over and gave Kinnard’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you for being my friend.”

After leaving the park, they walked down Newbury Street and window-shopped. Then they indulged in one of Kim’s favorite Boston pastimes. They went into Waterstone’s Booksellers and browsed. Kim bought a paperback Dick Francis novel while Kinnard bought a travel book on Sicily. He said it was a place he always wanted to go.

Late in the afternoon they stopped into an Indian restaurant and had a delicious tandoor-style dinner. The only problem was that the restaurant lacked a liquor license. Both agreed the spicy food would have been far better with cold beer.

From the Indian restaurant they walked back to Beacon Hill. Sitting on Kinnard’s couch, they each had a glass of cold white wine. Kim soon felt herself getting sleepy.

She turned in early in anticipation of having to get up at the crack of dawn for work. She did not need any Xanax when she slipped between Kinnard’s freshly laundered sheets. Almost immediately she fell into a deep, restful sleep.

19

Monday, October 3, 1994

Kim had almost forgotten how hard a normal day was in the SICU. She was the first to acknowledge that after a month’s vacation she was out of shape for both the physical and emotional stamina that was needed. But as the day drew to a close, she had to admit that she’d truly enjoyed the intensity, the challenge, and the sense of accomplishment of helping people in dire need, not to mention the comradeship of shared endeavor.

Kinnard had appeared several times during the day with patients coming from surgery. Kim made it a point to be available to help. She thanked him again for the best night’s sleep she’d had in weeks. He told her that she was welcome anytime, even that night, despite the fact that he was on call and would be spending the night in the hospital.

Kim would have liked to stay. After her isolation at the compound, she’d enjoyed being in Boston, and she’d become nostalgic for the time she’d lived there. But she knew she had to get back. She wasn’t under any delusion that Edward would be available, but she still felt a strong obligation to be there.

As soon as Kim’s shift was over, she walked to the corner of Charles and Cambridge streets and caught the Red Line to Harvard Square. The trains were frequent at that hour, and after only twenty minutes she was walking northwest on Massachusetts Avenue on her way to the Harvard Law School.

Kim slowed her pace when she realized she was perspiring. It was another hot Indian summer day, without the previous day’s crystalline clarity. There was no breeze whatsoever, and a hazy, muggy canopy was stalled over the city, making it seem more like summer than fall. The weatherman warned of possible violent thunderstorms.

Kim got directions to the Law Library from a student. She found it with no difficulty. The air-conditioned interior was a relief.

Another inquiry directed her to Helen Arnold’s office. Kim gave her name to a secretary and was told she’d have to wait. No sooner had Kim sat down when a tall, slender, and strikingly attractive black woman appeared in a connecting doorway and waved her in.

“I’m Helen Arnold, and I’ve got some good news for you,” the woman said enthusiastically. She led Kim into her office and motioned for her to sit down.

Kim was struck by the woman’s appearance. It wasn’t what she expected at a law school library. Her hair was done in the most exquisite cornrows Kim had ever seen, and her dress was a brilliantly colored silk chemise loosely gathered at the waist with a gold chain belt.

“I spoke this morning, quite early if you must know, with Ms. Sturburg, who is a wonderful woman by the way, and she told me all about your interest in a work by Rachel Bingham.”

Kim nodded through this dialogue which Helen delivered in rapid-fire.

“Have you found it?” Kim asked as soon as Helen paused.

“Yes and no,” Helen said. She smiled warmly. “The good news is that I confirmed Katharine Sturburg’s belief that the work survived the fire of 1764. I am absolutely sure of this. Mark my word. Apparently it had been rather permanently housed in the chambers of one of the tutors who’d lived outside Old Harvard Hall. Isn’t that good news?”

“I’m pleased,” Kim said. “In fact I’m thrilled it wasn’t destroyed. But you qualified your answer to my question whether you’d found it. What did you mean by ‘yes and no’?”

“I meant simply that although I hadn’t found the book itself, I did find reference to the fact that the work did indeed come here to the Law School for the Law Library. I also learned there’d been some confusion and difficulty of how or where to file the work, although it had something to do with Ecclesiastic Law as your letter from Increase Mather suggested. By the way, I thought the letter was a fabulous find, and I understand you have offered to give it to Harvard. That’s very generous of you.”