Several weeks later, toward the end of October, I was back into my usual routine. Work, work, work. I had some good students that year and I was enjoying the teaching. Some days I stayed late in my office, to research new cases to use in class.
That night I didn’t. I had just changed into my jeans and was beginning to fix dinner when the buzzer rang to tell me someone was in the lobby for me.
“Hello?” I said as I pressed the intercom button.
“Alison,” a man’s voice said. “It’s Wesley Wilson. Can I come up?”
“Of course, Wesley,” I pressed the button to unlock the lobby door. I waited by the open door until I heard the elevator arrive. Wesley stalked down the hall.
“Wesley,” I said as I hugged him and ushered him through the door. “What brings you to Montreal?” Then I had an odd feeling
