Michele Martinez - The Finishing School

“You’ve been working very hard,” Hogan said.

“Naturally, things went wrong, as things often do. There was some unfortunate collateral damage. Deon Green-”

“You’re giving me credit for something Jay did. Jay was a strict disciplinarian when it came to rats.”

“Your use of the past tense is telling, Doctor. You know Esposito is dead, because you killed him. You tried to make it look like a suicide, but you made a critical mistake. You tracked Expo’s blood out into the alley. We took a perfect lift of the footprint. I’m betting it exactly matches the Nikes you’re wearing.”

Hogan looked startled but then recovered quickly. “Bravo, Melanie. I’m impressed. But let’s see if you can nail the extra-credit question. Why kill Jay?”

She thought for a moment. “It was personal. You wanted Whitney. But she wanted him .”

Hogan’s face went so livid that Melanie’s insides lurched. He looked like he wanted to rip her apart with his bare hands. She raised her useless gun to defend herself.

“You think you’re so fucking smart, ” Hogan spit. “You don’t know the half of it. I got your boy! That’s right. Trevor Leonard, that fucking freak. I bashed his brains out with Jay’s golf club, so it would look like Jay did the murder. But nobody’s ever gonna know that, because you won’t live to tell about it.”

Trevor! A wave of nausea rushed through her. Just at that instant, Hogan lunged for Melanie, dragging Carmen with him, using her as a human shield. Melanie fumbled frantically at the Beretta’s safety, diving out of Hogan’s way. She hit the floor hard and grunted in pain, rolling back toward the desk, her brain intensely focused on her fingers’ work. The safety finally clicked, and she sat up, finger on the trigger. Hogan and Carmen were at the threshold, shards of glass crunching beneath their feet. If Melanie fired now, she risked killing the girl.

Hogan gave a smile of pure evil. “You make a pretty target,” he said, pointing the gun at Melanie’s head.

MELANIE’S HEART was in her throat. She held her breath, waiting for the sharp report of Hogan’s gun.

“If you follow me, she dies,” Hogan said. The next second he and Carmen vanished through the door.

Melanie breathed out. She was shaking uncontrollably. Damn, she’d faced down killers before. You’d think it would get easier.

As their footsteps receded, she leaped to her feet, and the room went black for a second. When her vision cleared, she yanked several tissues from a box on the desk and wrapped her dripping hand. It was tough to fire a gun when your hand was slick with blood.

Melanie rushed to the door. Hogan and Carmen were just disappearing down the main staircase. She ran after them. She’d catch this lunatic before he harmed the girl. You can run, but you can’t hide, scumbag. The route Hogan had chosen would take them all smack through the middle of the gala. That must be his plan-to fade into the crowd. She paused at the top of the stairs to be sure they were out of earshot before starting down after them. The buzz of voices drifted up to her from the floor below. Guests were streaming out of the auditorium toward the main doors of the school. Melanie glimpsed Hogan far ahead, gripping Carmen tightly by the arm and pushing her through the crowd. Nobody seemed to pay them any attention.

Melanie flew down the remaining steps, struggling to keep her prey in sight. But the minute she reached the first floor, the throng engulfed her. Even standing on her toes and craning her neck, she could no longer see Hogan. She fought her way to the exit, earning outraged stares from the power elite. Just as she was about to barrel through the red doors, somebody grabbed her from behind in a powerful grip.

“Hey!” she yelled, whirling.

“Where you going, princess? You don’t like to stay put,” Dan said, looking down into her eyes.

“Where’d you come from?”

“The airport. Lulu Reyes called my cell phone, said to get over here right away.”

“Oh! I told her to hit redial. I thought it would call Detective Leary, but she must’ve done something wrong. You’ll have to do.”

“Gee, thanks a lot.”

“Seriously! We’ve got to catch Hogan. He has Carmen Reyes. He’s using her as a hostage.”

“Any weapons?”

“I have a gun,” she replied, patting her coat pocket.

“Not you -Hogan.”

“He has one, too.”

“Where’d you get a gun? Never mind! Which way?”

“Outside. Come on, let’s go!”

Out on the sidewalk, the snow was coming down hard. Between the flakes and the horde of guests milling in front of the school, visibility was limited. Melanie scanned the block frantically.

“I don’t see them!” she cried.

“Any idea where they’re headed?”

“No. God, I wish I had a megaphone.”

She turned around to face the well-heeled crowd and held up her hand, wrapped in blood-soaked tissues. She projected in her best courtroom voice.

“May I have your attention, please! There’s been an abduction from the school. We’re federal law enforcement. Did anybody see Harrison Hogan just now?”

People gasped and murmured, looking at one another in surprise.

“We need your help,” she demanded.

“I saw Dr. Hogan with a girl. They were running toward Central Park,” said a woman in a black satin cape.

“Me, too!” a man yelled.

“Somebody call 911 and tell the police about this!” Melanie exclaimed, and she and Dan took off at a run toward Fifth Avenue, snow whipping into their faces.

Within minutes Melanie’s feet were soaked through and numb with cold. The cut on her hand stung bitterly in the harsh wind. She slipped and slid, trying desperately to match Dan’s pace. At the intersection the light was against them, but Fifth Avenue was deserted in the heavy snow. They tore across the street and entered the park at Seventy-ninth Street. Snow lay thick on the path, and two fresh sets of footprints led straight ahead. In the halos cast by ornate street lamps, thick flakes blew sideways. They sprinted forward as fast as they could, following the footprints, their breath billowing up in great puffs as they ran.

The path sloped steeply upward past Cedar Hill. As she sprinted up the incline, Melanie’s feet went out from under her and she fell hard, coming down on her injured hand. Dan turned to help her.

“No! Go! Help Carmen. I’ll catch up,” she said.

“But you’re bleeding. I can see it in the snow.”

“It’s just a cut. Please! Don’t worry about me.”

He helped her to her feet and brushed her off. “I’ll take it from here, sweetheart. Just turn around and go for backup, okay?” he said.

“Sure. But hurry, you’ll lose them!”

Dan turned and bolted up the hill. Once he reached the top and disappeared from view, Melanie took right off after him. Go for backup, my ass! Who did he think he was dealing with here? The little woman? She heard sirens in the distance anyway, hoped it was for them, but she had no intention of waiting around to find out. Sweet Jesus, the boy was fast! Melanie reached the crest of the hill and sprinted across the Seventy-ninth Street Transverse, getting her second wind. Dan was nowhere to be seen.

She was alone in an eerie, magical landscape. To her right, Turtle Pond was a frozen expanse, and the lights of Central Park West shone so dimly through the snow over the Great Lawn that she might have been at sea glimpsing a distant shore. She plunged into a tunnel of dark, overhanging trees, still following the footprints. Counting Dan’s, there were now three sets, and they were clearly heading toward Belvedere Castle. Did Hogan plan to murder Carmen and leave her body in the castle tower? He would be just demented enough to come up with a plan like that.