“I’m calling for backup,” she said. “This should be handled by a crisis intervention team, and you know it. We need hostage negotiators-”
“Call them, then!” he snapped. “But I’m not waiting around for the cavalry.”
“Do you have a Kevlar vest?” Kit asked. “Cameron is an excellent shot.”
Alex swallowed hard, thinking of the shooting in Long Beach. “Open the trunk, Ciara.”
She hit the release, and it popped open. He reached beneath the bag that held his climbing gear and found his vest. He held it out to Kit.
“No, you should wear it,” Kit said. “He’ll probably go for a head shot with me. Or he might try garroting-that’s how he killed his father. And my dog.”
Alex, hearing nothing but cool deliberation in Kit’s voice, stared at him for a moment, wondering what kind of partner he was taking on now. He put the vest on.
“Bring a flashlight, too. And-do you have a first aid kit?”
Alex found each.
Kit looked down at Alex’s shoes. Before he said anything, Alex said, “I’ll change them. But I can’t do anything about the suit.”
“Keep the coat buttoned if you can-your white shirt will be easy enough to see as it is. Leave your pager here, please.”
“Good point.”
“I’m keeping his girlfriend hostage,” Ciara called out. “You hear me, Mr. Logan? Anything happens to Alex, Ms. Taggert here is going to meet lethal force while resisting arrest.”
“Cut it out, Ciara,” Alex said. Still handcuffed, Meghan Taggert moved her elbow to press the control that lowered her own window-Ciara must have released that lock, too. “I’m not his girlfriend,” Meghan said. “I want to be, but I’m not.”
Kit blushed furiously. He reached out, though, and Alex saw him drop something into the backseat, next to Meghan. The rabbit’s foot.
Ciara rolled the windows back up and locked the doors.
Kit took off walking at a rapid pace, and Alex followed, feeling strange wearing his lightweight hiking boots with his suit. Soon, though, he was glad to have them on-the ground was uneven. Logan had a strange way of pausing a little every few steps. Before long, Alex figured out that there were seven steps between each pause.
They avoided the gate, staying out of view from the school, and continued along the wrought-iron fence that fronted the entrance. When they reached a wooded area, Kit found a stick. He began making a quick sketch in the dirt.
Speaking softly as he drew a rough layout of the school, he said, “Sedgewick has been around for a long time. Some of it was built in the nineteen twenties, but most of the buildings are newer than that.”
“I thought I saw signs of construction work when I was here earlier.”
“You were on the campus?”
“No, just looked through the gates. There’s a sign saying it’s closed for renovations.”
“That’s strange.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t understand why he bought it. Everett always hated Sedgewick. He considered himself above it.”
He pointed to a place near the center of the map.
“Here’s the bell tower-the tallest building. You can see it from here if you look through the trees. It’s in the center of campus. The tower and most of the buildings around it are made of fieldstone. When I was here, enrollment was declining. Only these four buildings were in use.” He pointed out buildings close to the tower. “The others were locked up, but most of the boys broke into them at one time or another.”
“Keeping their skills up.”
“Or learning them. The old crooks train new crooks.”
“Like prison.”
“In many, many ways,” Kit said.
Alex looked up at him.
“Not for me, really…I had been in worse situations. And I would have gone to any school as long as I could come home to my grandmother. Gabe and I were day students. Everett, Cameron, Frederick, and Morgan lived on campus.”
“But their families lived in Malibu, didn’t they? Or close by?”
Kit shrugged. “Their kids weren’t in the way if they lived here, were they?”
Alex stared down at the sketch on the ground.
Kit added some buildings at some distance from the others. “These are the old stables. When it was a better school, they used to give riding lessons. No horse has been in any of those stalls for decades. There’s a way into the property near there, a gate leading out onto an old trail. We’ll go in that way-if you don’t object? There are lots of trees and bushes between there and the campus. That will give us some cover, at least until we get to the baseball field.” He drew a diamond. “That’s out in the open, but if we can get past it, we can start working our way through the buildings while they’re still watching for us to come in through the front gate.”
“Sounds good-any chance that Everett knows of this back way in?”
“Probably. But my guess is that he’ll stick to the central buildings. In school, he never wanted to go into the woods or to hike around. Cameron likes the outdoors, though, so we’ll have to watch out for him.”
“We’re about to lose the last of the light. Can you find your way around this place in the dark?”
“Easily. And before long, if he stays indoors, Everett will probably turn on lights. We’ll get a better idea of where he is. I think everything will depend on locating each of them before they see us.” He paused. “I talked to your uncle. He says you’re good with weapons, and that he taught you to…to move quietly. Moriarty taught me that, too. If we can take Cameron out of the picture, things will be easier. I’ll do what I can to help bring him into your range.”
After a moment, Alex said, “I only have my own weapon with me. And I don’t think I can get Ciara to part with hers.”
“I wouldn’t want her to be without one. She needs to protect Meghan. It’s better that you have the gun. I haven’t been out to the range much since Spooky came to live with me. Moriarty says…” He gave Alex a quick, rueful smile. “Probably, your uncle told him-if you’re going to use a gun for self-defense, you need to practice a lot, so that you can fire from any position, and not just in a booth at a firing range, because bad guys seldom stand around like paper targets.”
“John verbatim,” Alex agreed. “Moriarty taught you self-defense?”
“Yes, I learned a lot from him, and some things from…from my life before he found me.” He looked away.
“From surviving.”
“Yes. And of course, I’m really lucky.”
He moved off again before Alex could ask him how anyone who was raised by a drug addict and a serial killer could consider himself lucky.
He closed the distance between them as the last of the light continued to fade. The moon would not be up for several hours, and here, in this small canyon, the sunlight was lost sooner. Kit slowed a little. Alex felt rather than saw the ground level out as they reached the old trail. When they came to the gate in the fence, instead of opening it, Kit crouched down, then bent close to the ground. When he stood again, he whispered to Alex, “Someone has been here already. The grass has been flattened by the gate.”
“What do you recommend?”
“Let’s listen.”
They waited for what seemed an eternity to Alex before Kit climbed agilely over the gate without opening it. Alex did the same. He moved as quietly as possible, but he couldn’t see three feet in front of him. He nearly bumped into Kit at one point. Kit took hold of Alex’s left hand, put it on his shoulder, and began leading him in that way. Alex adjusted to the seven-step gait as they made their way to the edge of the woods that lay between the stables and the school buildings.
Kit came to a sudden halt. He stood very still. Alex began to feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise and unsnapped his holster. He let go of Kit. A sound came from somewhere up ahead-the snap of twigs.
