“Sweetheart, you sound really tired,” she says. “I know your dad puts a lot of pressure on you, but you need to take care of yourself. Are you sleeping enough?”
“Yes.”
“Will you be coming home for Christmas?”
“I don’t know.”
“But, Mason—”
“I have to go.”
I’m twenty-two years old and an adult now. She knows she can’t intrude on my life if I don’t let her.
“Okay, honey,” she says. “But… let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“I will.”
The truth is that I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to class or to the lab. It somehow all faded into the background. I’m trying to save my reputation. My reputation and my life. And put a murderer behind bars, where he belongs.
But nothing I do seems to bring me closer to that goal. As it is now, I have nothing. No evidence of wrongdoing. Conlon’s just going to get away with this.
Unless…
The idea, once in my head, suddenly seems so obvious. I check the date and time on my computer. The date registers as familiar, and it takes me a second to connect to the fact that our anatomy final exam is tomorrow. That means it’s a Sunday—Sunday night. If I go to the hospital, there will be students in the library but no classes going on. I’ll have the place to myself… all the time in the world to bust into Dr. Conlon’s office and search for dirt on him.
I throw on a pair of scrubs over my boxer shorts. I haven’t changed shirts in over a week, at least, but it’s not like I need to look presentable. I shove my bare feet into my sneakers and pull on my dark-brown jacket. I grab my car keys off my dresser, and as I drop them into my pocket, I feel the cold metal against my fingers. My father’s Magnum.
I hesitate, my fingers still on the gun. Something deep inside me is telling me to take the gun out of my pocket and leave it in my room. There isn’t going to be anyone at the hospital this late. And if there is… well, maybe it’s better if I don’t have a gun.
And then, I hear that horrible voice again in my ear.
Take the gun, Mason.
I slowly remove my hand from my pocket, leaving the gun inside.
Not so fast. You still have to load it.
74
I driveto the hospital at a steady pace, keeping my eyes pinned on the road. I’m completely focused on the task at hand, like a secret agent infiltrating enemy headquarters. I keep my lights off, though. I’m not sure, but it seems like there is a good chance someone might be following me. Well, it’s not impossible.
I flash my identification at the security guard by the entrance from the parking garage. The guard barely looks at me. That’s good… better if nobody can identify me later. If I find evidence to incriminate Dr. Conlon, everyone will understand—but if I don’t, well, this might look really bad. And I’m certain that Dr. Conlon will do everything in his power to destroy me when he discovers I busted into his office.
The building is empty, and the sound of my sneakers hitting the tiled floor sounds like claps of thunder. I try to walk quietly, but urgency gets the better of me. My heart is racing. Hell, I canhearmy heart thumping in my chest.
I pass by the anatomy lab, where the lights are on and there’s movement inside the room. Two students from my class are in there. Leave it to med students to be spending their Sundaynight in a lab with a bunch of dead bodies. I’m irritated because it means that I’ll have to make an effort to be quiet.
When I reach Dr. Conlon’s office, however, I’m shocked. There’s a light on under the door. It’s almost midnight on a Sunday night—how could Conlon still be in his office? Now what the hell am I supposed to do?
Of course, maybe this is a good thing. Maybe I can persuade Conlon to tell me the truth.
I shove my hands deep into my jacket pockets and feel the reassuring cold metal of my father’s Magnum. It’s true—nobody says no to a gun in their face. At least, certainly not an anatomy professor.
I take a deep breath and knock on the door.
There’s loud shuffling on the other side of the door. I hear Dr. Conlon’s voice: “Who’s there?”
“It’s Mason Howard.”
