Michele Martinez - The Finishing School

“Detective,” she whispered into her phone, “it’s Melanie Vargas from the U.S. Attorney’s Office again. Please call and let me know what arrangements you’ve made to get me backup. Nothing’s happened yet, but I’m expecting Hogan to show up any minute. In fact, I have to turn my phone to silent, so if I don’t pick up, please leave a message. It’s very urgent. I really need your help. Thanks.”

She hung up nervously. Surely Leary would come through for her. She’d made the situation sufficiently clear, hadn’t she? He had to understand that she was in danger, although she would’ve thought he’d have called back by now. There was nothing more she could do at the moment, however. She wouldn’t call 911 to get a car dispatched unless the situation became truly desperate. If Hogan saw uniforms, he’d just cut and run.

Rounding the corner to the administrative wing, Melanie pulled back sharply, her heart skipping a beat. Goddamn it, he’d beaten her here! The entire hallway was dark, except for a single rectangle of light illuminating the floor in front of the development office. The door was closed, two distinct shadows visible in relief against its frosted-glass window. The muffled voices coming from within sounded low and urgent, as if they were arguing. That was bad. She’d better move, before Hogan did something to Carmen, before he harmed her.

Hugging the wall, Melanie advanced toward the brightly lit door, struggling to control her anxious breathing, to still even the rustling of her clothes. But when she got within a few feet, she realized that Hogan hadn’t trumped her after all. The voices coming from the development office belonged to James Seward and Patricia Andover.

“I don’t understand why you won’t do this one thing for me,” Seward whined.

“How many times do I have to explain? I can’t. Changing the fingerprint access requires Carmen!” Patricia sounded on edge, almost hysterical. “Besides, I’m not doing anything until you answer my question. Where were you Monday night when Whitney died? Answer me, damn it!”

“You think I was with someone?”

“I just need to hear that you didn’t kill your stepdaughter!”

“Are you serious? Wow, Patricia, that’s crazy. Completely insane. Although I have to admit, I’m somewhat flattered.”

“You didn’t?” The audible relief in Patricia’s voice confirmed for Melanie that the two were having an affair. The headmistress obviously cared for this man.

“Of course not. Whitney’s death was extremely ill timed for me.”

“Just tell me where you were, so I believe you.”

“Take my word for it, it’s better if you don’t know the details.”

“You were with another woman, weren’t you?”

“ No! Jesus, Patricia, you’re like a broken record. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but I was doing some fund-raising.”

“So why the big mystery?”

“ Because . It was with a gentleman who represents a consortium of interests that prefer to avoid government scrutiny. Do I make myself clear? Now, don’t ask me anything else.”

“If you have other sources of money, James, why the hell are you putting me at risk like this?”

He chuckled. “What’s that line about too rich and too thin?”

“You have enough, James,” she said flatly.

“Oh, come on, you know I need money, Patricia. You promised you’d help. I thought you had the guts to see this through,” he said.

“I can’t believe this! You don’t give a rat’s ass if I get caught, do you? I’m going downstairs right this instant, before the Van Allens end up at the podium without me. You can come or not. I don’t give a shit anymore. And I’m not going through with it. I’m just not. ”

The door flew open with a bang. Melanie shrank back into the darkness, heart pounding, as Patricia Andover flounced down the hallway in her ball gown. Seward immediately followed, flipping off the light and pulling the door of the development office closed behind him. He didn’t lock it, so unless the door locked automatically, she should be able to get in.

Melanie waited, holding her breath, until their footsteps had faded away and everything around her was deathly silent. Then she crept swiftly back toward the door, grasped the handle, and turned it. It was locked. What an idiot-why hadn’t she thought of this? The office held not only confidential financial information but evidence of Patricia’s crimes. The headmistress was a careful woman; she would never leave it open. Melanie should’ve thought about getting her hands on a master key somehow.

“Goddamn it,” she muttered, jiggling the handle, then sucked in a startled breath. Around the corner, behind her, she’d heard something. Like a footstep. A footstep that stopped when she made noise. Man, she was screwing this up big time. Get smarter, Melanie Vargas! She hurried on tiptoe to the next office: HEAD, LOWER SCHOOL. She turned the handle as silently as she could. It gave. Yes! Diving in and pulling the door closed behind her, she silently thanked the head of the Lower School for being so careless.

Melanie caught her breath and strained to listen. The footsteps started up again. Reverberating in the deserted hallway, they advanced toward her. She made out the sound of one person walking. Yes, definitely one person. Could Hogan have killed Carmen already? Wait a minute! The footsteps passed the development office’s door. They were moving closer. They were outside the door of this office. Melanie backed farther into the room, looking around frantically. In the dim light filtering through the blinds, she saw only one place to hide. Under the desk. She pulled the swivel chair out and crawled into the desk well, dragging the chair in behind her, heart hammering against her rib cage. Just then she heard the doorknob turn. Somebody was coming in after her.

THE FOOTSTEPS HAD STOPPED outside the office door. For a moment nothing happened, and chill silence prevailed. Melanie slipped her hand into her evening bag and grasped the Beretta, getting ready to defend herself. The door squeaked open on noisy hinges. She heard the sound of ragged breathing and thought it was her own, that it would give her away. But it came from her pursuer.

“Carmen? He-hello? Are you here?” a frightened voice called out.

Dizzy with relief, Melanie pushed the swivel chair out and rose to her feet. “It’s me, Melanie.”

Lulu was in the act of reaching for the light switch.

“Don’t!” Melanie covered the distance to Lulu’s side in two rapid steps, knocking the girl’s hand away in the nick of time. “No lights,” she whispered urgently. “Hogan could show up any minute. He could already be in the hall. You have to leave.”

“Carmen’s my sister. I’m staying.”

“What you’re doing won’t help her. If I have to worry about you, too, I’ll get distracted. Go. Now .”

“I want to help.”

“Fine. There’s something important you can do for me. I have a detective who’s supposed to show up to make the arrest, but I haven’t heard from him in the last half hour. I need you to call him. Take my phone, go outside, tell him where I am and to get here fast. Just hit redial. His number is the last one I called.”

Lulu looked at her in confusion. “I…I don’t know. I-”

“Do it!” Melanie commanded. “Trust me, it’s the only way. Come on, I’ll take you to the front staircase. Hogan will use the back, and I don’t want you running into him by accident.”

Grabbing Lulu firmly by the wrist, Melanie leaned out the office door and stole a furtive glance down the hallway. “It’s clear. Let’s go.”