No wonder the girl went so wrong, Melanie thought. Her mother set the perfect example of a wasted life.
“Our evidence is solid,” Melanie said.
“But who would want Whitney dead?”
“What about your husband?”
“You’re not here to investigate him, are you?”
“It depends. Carmen Reyes is missing. She was working on the Holbrooke endowment campaign, and somebody’s trying to embezzle a lot of money from it. Your husband may be involved.”
“Carmen,” Charlotte said, startled, and looked away.
“Do you know something about Carmen?”
“I just-No, I’m not sure.” She kneaded her forehead with her fingers.
“What about the Holbrooke endowment money?”
“Well…” Charlotte fell silent, looking absently at her cigarette, which was dripping ash onto the comforter.
“Mrs. Seward, you can’t pick and choose what to talk to me about. Things may fit together in ways you can’t understand.”
“I don’t want James arrested. I’ve spent too much time and money keeping him out of trouble to let that happen.”
“I’m going to follow this trail wherever it leads. If it leads to him, I’ll find out anyway. So you might as well tell me whatever you know about the endowment money now.”
Charlotte looked gaunt and ill, and there was misery in her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know. He’s sleeping with that headmistress, and she’s an evil, scheming little bitch. James would do a lot for money. He’s stayed with me all these years, hasn’t he? All right? Satisfied, now that you’ve humiliated me?”
“I’m not trying to upset you, Mrs. Seward, but I have to ask these questions. Carmen Reyes disappeared from this apartment the same night your daughter and Brianna Meyers died. I know you were here then. Is it possible your husband-”
“Wait a minute! You say Carmen was here, in my house?”
“Yes. She came upstairs around seven-thirty. I know your husband brought you home around nine o’clock.”
“Let me ask you something,” Charlotte said, her mind behind her tortured eyes working furiously. “What exactly is the evidence you have that Whitney was murdered?”
“The toxicology screen found a suspicious mix of substances in her blood.”
Charlotte clutched at her throat as if she couldn’t breathe. “What substances?”
“Highly lethal doses of heroin and OxyContin-”
“Aaagh!” Her eyes popping, Charlotte hauled herself to the edge of the bed and began digging furiously among the bottles on the bedside table. Tears began to stream down her hollow cheeks.
“What is it? Are you okay?” Melanie asked, alarmed.
“Bud! I trusted him! I thought he was helping her. Yes, here it is!” she cried, holding up an empty bottle. “OxyContin. It was full, and now it’s empty! He was here that night. I’m remembering.”
“You know Bud?” Melanie asked, startled.
“Of course.”
“The Bud who worked for Jay Esposito?”
“For who?”
“Jay Esposito, the nightclub owner.”
“Bud worked for a nightclub owner?”
“Yes, the same one your daughter was dating. Esposito was murdered last night.”
“Whitney was dating a nightclub owner who was murdered? I never heard any of this! Are you making it up?”
“No. Of course not! Listen, Mrs. Seward, please, this is extremely important. You say Bud was here that night. What can you tell me about him? Do you know his last name or where he lives? A telephone number, a physical description? Anything, anything at all that might help us locate him.”
“Are we talking about the same man? Bud Hogan! He was Whitney’s guidance counselor at Holbrooke! I remember now. I came home in bad shape. Whitney took me to my bed. I heard a voice calling, and it sounded like Carmen. I’ve known the child for years, you see. Then it just…stopped, like she’d been silenced. I asked Whitney about it, and she told me I was hallucinating. Which was entirely possible, given everything I’d ingested that night, so I believed her. I passed out. And then, sometime later, I woke up to find Bud standing over my bed, going through my pill bottles. He told me I was dreaming and to go back to sleep. So I did.”
“Harrison Hogan is Bud?” Melanie said.
“Yes, that’s what Whitney called him. And he killed my daughter!”
60
AS SHE LEFT the Sewards’, Melanie reached Detective Leary on his cell phone and explained what she’d just learned. She needed a patrol car dispatched to Harrison Hogan’s apartment right away. But there was a problem. Charlotte Seward hadn’t known Hogan’s home address, and it turned out his telephone number was unlisted. That meant that the fastest way to get the address-short of asking somebody at the school, which might tip Hogan off-was sending a rush subpoena to the telephone company. But by the time Melanie could get back to her office, type a subpoena, and fax it over, Hogan would be long gone with the money, and Carmen would probably be dead. No-their best bet was intercepting Hogan at the school before he could transfer the ten million.
Detective Leary agreed and said he would back her up as soon as he could get there.
“But I’m on the Williamsburg Bridge now, heading for that warehouse Esposito owned,” he said. “Remember? The one we found the key to? I just got a call from the blue-and-white that checked the scene. Whole place is drenched with blood.”
“Blood? From…from who?” Trevor!
“Don’t know. It can’t be from Deon Green, because he was killed in that subway station. But they didn’t find no other body. Somebody got seriously hurt there, that much is clear, and not too long ago neither. So when you think this money transfer is gonna happen? Should I just come straight to you and leave this for later?”
“No. What you’re doing is much more important. I have a witness missing. It could be related.” She told him about Trevor.
“Okay, I’ll be on the lookout for a body matching that description.”
That was not what Melanie wanted to hear, though she couldn’t ignore the terrible ring of truth to it. She wouldn’t let herself think about Trevor dead. Not now. There was still work to be done, and she needed to hope in order to function.
“However you want to play it,” Detective Leary was saying. “But if I’m not gonna back you up myself, let me find you some other guys.”
“Yes, but here’s the problem: If the school’s suddenly crawling with cops, this scumbag will just disappear with the missing girl. We’ll never find her, or my witness either, since he definitely knows where both of them are.”
“I can ask for plainclothes instead of uniforms, if that helps.”
“That would be better,” she said.
“Let me see what I can do. With Christmas and all, not a lot of guys working overtime. Give me your cell number, and I’ll call you soon as I know something. But do me a favor, okay? Hang back till you hear from me?”
“I’ll try. But hurry, okay?”
Melanie needed every second between now and seven-thirty to prepare for what was coming next. The worst thing she could do would be to walk into an encounter with a known killer with no backup and no way to defend herself. She of all people knew how stupid that would be, because she’d done it once before, on the Jed Benson murder case. She’d survived, but she’d rather not make that same mistake twice.