“How much money is the school trying to raise?” Melanie asked.

“The campaign was for fifty mil over two years. It concludes at the gala Friday night.”

“Fifty million? Wow. Did they reach their target?”

“From what I understand, yes, or at least they will have by Friday. Holbrooke alumnae come from the wealthiest families in America. Besides, Patricia is a clever businesswoman. She gets what she wants.”

Hogan opened a door with a frosted-glass window and beckoned her in.

“My humble abode,” he said. “Sorry, I’m not much of a housekeeper.”

The office was claustrophobically tiny, littered with files and papers, and had an absentminded-professor air about it. To say Hogan couldn’t keep house was an understatement. Even the books in the shelves lay askew, as if they’d been shoved in any which way.

“Please,” he said, indicating a chair shoved into a corner next to the door.

Melanie had to move a stack of books off the chair in order to sit down. She picked last year’s Holbrooke yearbook from the top of the pile, flipping through it as Hogan searched through file cabinets looking for the girls’ transcripts. Whitney Seward’s photograph leaped out at her. Whitney had one of those perfect faces that made everyone else in the world look like a badly drawn cartoon. Absolutely symmetrical features, straight blond hair, and blindingly white teeth. Carmen Reyes was on the facing page, looking serious and shy, with big dark eyes and braces. Melanie had to search for Brianna Meyers. Despite being quite pretty, with long, curly dark hair, light-colored eyes, and a nose so pert that it smacked of the surgeon’s knife, there was something nondescript about Brianna, something nervous and self-effacing. Melanie felt a ripple at the tip of her consciousness, like if only she could understand these girls, she’d solve the puzzle.

“While you’re looking for those files, Dr. Hogan, may I ask you a few questions?” Melanie said.

“You can try. Anything sensitive, though, I’m gonna have to refer you back to Ted Siebert, the school lawyer.”

“Why is that?”

“Patricia runs a tight ship. We don’t give out personal information on students without the okay from our attorney.”

“Mrs. Andover was extremely cooperative, I assure you. She sent me here specifically to get this information from you.”

Hogan grimaced meaningfully. “She might’ve acted that way in front of you, but I know what side my bread is buttered on.”

“Did Mrs. Andover instruct you not to answer my questions?” Melanie asked.

“She’s too clever to come right out and say that. But I know better than to air dirty laundry about the daughter of a major contributor like James Seward.”

“Was the faculty aware that Whitney Seward was doing drugs, Doctor? Is that what you’re getting at?”

“I’m not gonna say Whitney was pure as the driven snow. That would be a lie.”

“Can you be more specific? I’m looking for anything that would help explain what happened last night.”

Hogan seemed to be avoiding Melanie’s eyes. “Her grades were mediocre, and she was in danger of failing English, but college wasn’t an issue. She was a legacy many times over at Harvard. Buildings named for her family, that sort of thing. She was getting in, no matter what…” He trailed off, occupying himself once again with the filecabinet. Melanie nodded. She knew all about those Holbrooke girls who got into Harvard. But there was more here.

“I’m getting the sense you want to tell me something, Doctor. I understand you’re concerned about the repercussions. You have my word I’ll keep everything in strictest confidence.”

Hogan looked up and sighed. “You didn’t hear it here.”

“Of course not. I never reveal a source.”

“Whitney was big into the club scene. Mixed up with a bad element. You should check it out.”

“Just the club scene generally? Do you know any names or locations?”

“She was hanging out at a club called Screen, with a guy named Esposito who’s really sleazy.”

Melanie noted the names on her legal pad. Come to think of it, they sounded familiar. “Thank you, Doctor. Anything else about Whitney?”

“I heard she had a blog where she was doing some wild stuff. Not sure, though.”

“A Weblog? You mean like a personal Web page?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard some of the other girls talking about it.” Hogan glanced nervously at the door, then at his watch. “Patricia is going to wonder what’s taking us so long,” he said.

“Two more questions, Doctor. What can you tell me about Brianna Meyers?”

“Okay, now, Brianna was troubled.”

“Troubled? In what way?”

“Terrible home life. Parents divorced, father out of the picture, mother a big socialite who had no time for her. So Brianna acted out.”

“Acted out how?”

“She was dating this creepy kid, kind of a goth type. He used to come around the school a lot. Had a really scary affect. Like, made you think of Columbine. I wondered about his mental stability.”

“What was his name?” Melanie asked.

“Trevor Leonard. He goes to Manhattan Learning. It’s a high-end school for kids with behavioral issues who are mainstream academically.”

She noted the information on her legal pad. “Any reason to think he was into drugs?”

“That’s possible, sure.” Hogan nodded. “In fact, I’d bet on it.”

“Okay. Last question,” Melanie said. Hogan glanced nervously at the door again. Man, this guy was scared of Patricia Andover. Interesting, really, when you thought about it. “We’re very concerned about Carmen Reyes. Apparently Carmen went to Whitney’s apartment last night right around the time the girls were doing the drugs, and she hasn’t been heard from since. Is there anything you can tell us about Carmen, her friends, her connections, her habits? Anything that might help us locate her?”

“Carmen was relatively new to the school, and I didn’t know her well,” Hogan said. “I could give you my gut reaction. But I’d rather not.”

“Why not? What do you mean?”

“Well, it isn’t based on much, frankly, and I hate to speak ill of a kid.”

“What? Please tell me, Doctor. This is too important to stand on good manners.”

Hogan sighed. “Okay,” he said with obvious reluctance, “but you have to take this for what it’s worth, which isn’t much. As head of counseling, I knew that Carmen had real money problems. She was very concerned about paying for college, not only for herself but for her little sister, Lourdes, who goes to school here also.”

“What’s your point?”

“I don’t know a faster way for a kid to make money than selling drugs. And Carmen struck me as that desperate.” Hogan stopped talking and looked up at the ceiling, scratching his head. “Seems I’ll have to get back to you on the girls’ files. They’re not here.”

“Are you serious?” Melanie said.

“Yeah, I’ve gone through every pile. Somebody must’ve taken ’em. Unless they’re lost, which is always a possibility. As you see, organization is not my forte.”

“Who would take them?”

“You could try Ted Siebert, for starters. He’s been known to just walk into people’s offices and remove records when there’s some kind of legal issue.”

There was a sharp rapping on the frosted glass of the office door.

“Yeah!” Hogan called.

The door opened inward, slamming into the back of Melanie’s chair.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Ray-Ray Wong said.

“We’re just finishing up here, Ray-Ray,” Melanie said. “Any luck searching the lockers?”

“Oh, yeah. We hit the jackpot big time with Carmen Reyes’s locker. We found heroin. And it’s the right stamp.”