She nodded. “Oh, right, Trevor Leonard. The school psychologist at Holbrooke says he was Brianna’s boyfriend.”

“I’ll tell ya, he’s a fucking treasure trove of information about these girls.”

“So he’s talking?”

“Yup. I grabbed him on the warrant, and come to find out he had twenty tabs of ecstasy in his jacket pocket. With the drug charge piled on, he rolled in a heartbeat.”

“Great. I’ll sit in with you so we can lock him into a statement.”

“Yeah, sure, but one thing you should know first.” Dan moved even closer. He was leaning down, practically whispering in her ear. There was no call for it. Yes, they were standing right outside the interview room where Bridget held the prisoner. But the door was closed. Dan couldn’t reasonably think they would be overheard. Melanie took another step back, heart beating way too fast.

“What?”

“Bridget got Whitney Seward’s phone records already,” was all he said. “That wack job actually has good phone-company contacts, I’ll say that for her. Anyway, you’ll never guess who’s all over Whitney’s phones-cell and landline.”

“Who?” Melanie asked.

“Jay Esposito. That nightclub guy.”

“Right, the school psychologist mentioned him, too. Who is he?”

“Remember a few years back it was all over the papers? Wiseguy wannabe, owned a string of nightclubs, investigated for moving product?”

“Club drugs?”

“Nah, serious shit. Heroin, cocaine. I just talked to a guy I know on the squad that did the investigation. They were looking at Esposito for running a string of heroin mules. Moving Colombian product from Puerto Rico to New York.”

“But they never arrested him?”

“They were just about to go up on a wire on his phone when their main snitch got fished out of the East River. Minus his head, which they never found.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Esposito doesn’t fuck around. Since then, as you can imagine, nobody’s been willing to flip on the guy. You never hear about him, unless he’s in ‘Page Six’ with some model.”

“And you say he shows up in Whitney’s phone records?”

“Yeah, big time. We got numerous calls, including-get this-a call placed last night at nine-fourteen from the Sewards’ home telephone to Esposito’s cell phone, meaning Whitney called Esposito during the incident.”

“Or someone else called Esposito from her telephone,” Melanie pointed out.

“Excellent point, Counselor. You’re very smart, you know that?” He gazed at her, grinning. Was he flirting with her?

“ Puerto Rico is an important transshipment point for Colombian narcotics, because it’s a domestic flight. No customs inspections,” she said hurriedly, blurting the first thing that popped into her head to quiet her fluttering heart. She was beginning to think she should’ve refused to work with Dan. Not that Bernadette had given her any option.

“Mmm-hmm.” He was still looking at her.

“You’re thinking maybe Esposito supplied the heroin that killed the girls?” Melanie asked.

“There’s another angle I’m just getting into with this kid, and it’s even beyond that. It’s gonna surprise you.”

BACK IN THE INTERVIEW ROOM, Bridget and Trevor Leonard sat next to each other on one side of the conference table, Bridget cradling her head on folded arms. She jerked up when Melanie and Dan walked in.

“Finally! I was getting tired of shooting the shit with Beavis here all by myself.”

“That’s not too secure a posture, Bridget,” Dan chided as he took a seat on the other side of the table.

“What? Kid’s a pussycat. Plus, he’s cuffed to the chair, right, Trev?”

Trevor didn’t say anything. Underneath his fearsome looks, he seemed vulnerable and young.

“How old are you, Trevor?” Melanie asked, sliding into the seat next to Dan. If Trevor was a juvenile, they shouldn’t be interviewing him without counsel and a parent present.

“Nineteen.” His eyes were an unusual yellowy green, like a cat’s, but wide and frightened.

“Oh, okay, good. You’re legally an adult under federal law. Have you been advised of your rights?”

“He signed a waiver,” Dan said, sliding a piece of paper toward her. Melanie glanced at it and nodded.

“I understand you were taken into custody on an outstanding warrant for fraud?” she asked.

“I was hacking. I sent out a game. If you were stupid enough to play it, it would invade your PC and steal some personal data. I didn’t ever do anything with the information. I was just, like, punking on people. Like, for kicks.”

“Unfortunately, it turns out that’s a federal crime, Trevor. You skipped out on your warrant, which makes it worse. Plus, when these agents arrested you, you had a distribution quantity of ecstasy in your possession,” Melanie said.

“Yeah, okay. A small amount, but enough to sell.”

“Twenty pills. Not nothing. So you’re facing some serious charges. Which gives you an incentive to talk to us, to get a more favorable plea offer. Now, have the agents explained what we’re interested in?” she asked.

“Yeah, they just told me Whitney Seward hot-loaded last night.”

“You hadn’t heard?”

“No. I’m not much for reading the papers. I told these guys what I know about Whitney. She was hooking up with this total psycho club-owner dude, like, old enough to be her father. Now, he moves product. That’s where you should be looking.”

“Jay Esposito?” Melanie asked.

“Expo. Yeah. He owns nightclubs and sells heavy-duty drugs. My thing is strictly like X or K-”

“Meaning ecstasy and ketamine?” Melanie asked.

“Right. Club drugs, you know? Go down easy, don’t fuck with your head too much. But Expo moves the real McCoy. We’re talking H. Not that Whitney Seward messing with hayron surprises me in the least. That girl was constantly pushing the envelope, looking for the next jones.”

“Brianna Meyers, too?”

“What about Brianna?” Trevor looked blank. Melanie glanced over at Dan, who shook his head almost imperceptibly. He hadn’t broken the bad news to Trevor yet.

Melanie looked Trevor in the eye. “I’m sorry to inform you that Brianna Meyers OD’d last night also.”

Trevor swallowed hard. His strange eyes welled up. “Did she…did she die?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Jesus. I didn’t know that.” He fell silent, his face reddening. Tears began to slide down his cheeks.

“Uncuff him,” she instructed Bridget. Melanie stood up, got a box of Kleenex from a side table, and handed it to Trevor. Shoulders heaving, Trevor rubbed his wrist, then pulled out some tissues and pressed them to his eyes with both hands.

“Are you okay to talk, Trevor?” she asked, resting her hand on his shoulder for a moment.

“Yeah, okay. I had no idea.” He took the tissues away and shook his head like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“Did you know Brianna was using heroin?” Melanie asked gently, settling back into her seat.

“No. She wasn’t. I mean, you can tell me that, but I don’t buy it.”

“You were dating Brianna?” Melanie asked.

“I’ve known her since nursery school, but dated, no. We’re like BFFs.”

“BFF?”

“Best friends forever. It’s only since she started hanging with Whitney that things got weird with me and Bree. Whitney had Brianna pretty brainwashed. She only let me hang with them if I paid for shit, and it was at the point where Brianna was going along with her on that.”

Melanie waited as Trevor blew his nose and wiped his eyes some more.

“What kind of stuff did they want you to pay for? Like, drugs?” she asked.

“No. I mean yes, but not only. Just everything, you know? Whenever we went out. My parents are divorced, and my dad’s a dentist, which doesn’t rate shit on the Upper East Side. So I start saying no, because I really couldn’t afford it, and Whitney goes, ‘Oh, Trevor, I used to like you when you gave me money, but now you bore me,’” he said, adopting a high falsetto. “The fucking bitch, I’m glad she’s dead,” he added, wadding the Kleenex into a ball in his fist, though his tears were still flowing. Melanie fed him a few more from the box, until he got himself somewhat under control.